#neon green my beloved

[angryjojofrog]

REPO MAN!

[hells2008]

💚 :D

💚 playlist

[riveatstoes]

jeanscott save me. save me jeanscott. jeansc—

[strixiebean]

As a fun lil challenge, I greyscaled my tablet so i wouldn't know the colours I was picking from, only guessing from tone if it fit there.

I don't regret this for a second

[komashkathesilly]

hello everynyan

[teacolouredink]

Do people post their splatfest art here?? Either way this is my first time playing in over a year I just HAD TO come back for the team closest to my heart ehehe (sorry for missing you team beach I GENUINELY FORGOT ABOUT SPLATFEST THAT TIME im sad)

[baalzebufo]

here come the boys... 2/3 kurnoth hunters done!

so I changed the weapons and bugs since last time! I decided I really didnt like how the blue came out. so instead I opted to go for the same brass on the weapons but then made the bugs and sprites and such bright green. it looks so much nicer imo and its pretty fluorescent irl which looks super cool :)

[hotcat37]

deaf!jere inspo???

AWWW YESSS sometimes when I see him fiddling with his ear piece during gigs I like to pretend they're hearing aids lol Or in some pictures it almost looks like he's actually got one in haha

[roastedinmarch]

i miss having dyed hair but also i feel like dyed hair doesn’t fit my aesthetic anymore so i can’t :(

[fagdykebassboy]

look at her.

[neon-danger]

why do I just casually have 61 ts4 kits/packs

[tiyawnyana]

A/N: thought I'd hop back in to writing but for my dear, beloved wife. I can see her as at first being rough around the edges; you gotta work for her love ya know? But at her core she's a lover and will worship her partner essentially. Also! She likes being called handsome!!

Characters: Sevika x Fem Reader

Warnings: cutesy couple, soft smut, oral (reader receiving), fingering, strap-on usage, some dirty talk kinda, maybe a little ooc

Men and Children DNI

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Long Day

Lately, you'd been finding yourself dozing off on the couch, waiting for your partner to return to the safety and comfort of your shared apartment by the bar.

Tonight wasn't any different; you were curled beneath one of your old blankets, eyes becoming heavier as the bustling below didn't cease in the streets. The neon lights of the various buildings filled the room in a green glow.

Just as warmth seeped into your bones, you heard footsteps, large boots, approaching the door. The mechanical click of a metal arm followed by the door unlocking has you slowly coming back from a not so satisfying sleep.

The door creeks open and you blink slowly.

She's trying to be quiet, you can tell. She always slips those big boots off by the door, locking the door behind her as she carefully walks in through the small hallway to find you in the living room.

"Mm-" you hum, rolling over to face the ceiling as she comes into view, hovering over the back of the couch. You give her a sleepy smile, stretching your legs with a satisfying 'pop'.

"Hey, baby," she murmurs softly, flesh hand reaching down to cup your cheek as she leans against the back of the couch,"Sorry, did I wake you?"

You shake your head,"No- if you were maybe five minutes later then most likely," you lean in to her hand, cupping it with your own.

She nods, gazing at you.

She's silent for a moment before she sighs, shoulders finally sagging as she slowly relaxes.

You lift your arms, beckoning her in.

She huffs, circling the couch and hovering over you for a moment before crawling onto the couch to lay her head over your chest. Her legs hang off the couch, but she doesn't seem to mind it.

She slumps against you, head rested over the swell of your breasts.

You bring your hand down to pull the ponytail from her hair, carding your fingers through any tangles while drifting your other hand lower to lightly scratch over her shoulders.

She releases a low hum, her arms moving to hold on either side of your torso.

It's quiet. Serene, for a little while. You can almost tune out the bustling people outside the apartment.

"Did something happen, Sevi?" You ask softly, your gaze lowering to her relaxed form.

She grumbles against you, tensing for just a moment before sighing.

"Same bullshit, different day," she huffs, voice low and filled with frustration.

You hum softly, acknowledging her,"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," she murmurs,"it's a job."

You manage a half shrug, a hum once again before brushing some hair from her face.

"You're not injured or anything, are you?"

She hums a 'no', remaining quiet otherwise.

Gradually, the tension in her shoulders and back begin to smooth out, slowly allowing her weight to completely cover you.

It's comforting, really; her solid weight, concrete and toned perfectly aligning with yours.

She didn't believe in soul mates. But if they were real.. she's positive you're it for her.

At first, you don't realize she shuffles upwards until you feel her press a soft kiss against your throat. Her breath brushes the soft skin there, causing goosebumps to form across your chest.

"You're too good to me," she murmurs between kisses, moving them up to the skin beneath your jaw.

Your eyes flutter, a soft laugh escaping your lips,"Sevi- you deserve it," you hum, baring your neck further for her surprisingly soft lips. First time she kissed you, you had expected chapped lips- but no, just perfectly kissable lips.

Her flesh hand moves, ducking beneath your shirt to cup beneath your breast. Her kisses become more heated- your eyes flutter when she sucks softly, right over your pulse.

"Need you," she mutters between kisses.

"You have me," you respond back.

She pulls back, gaze locked with your before she moves up to slot her lips over yours, her kiss soft and sweet. Just tasting, refreshing her memory over the silk feel of your mouth before she tongues at the seam of your lips, begging for entry.

You grant it, humming at the back of your throat when her tongue presses against yours, tasting you.

You can feel her shift her weight upwards, pressing between your thighs as her metal hand moves down to grip your thigh, spreading you open and wrapping it around her waist.

You cup the side of her neck, thumb tracing the faint scarring from the warehouse incident all those years ago.

She kisses you harder, almost as if to swallow you whole. She would- with the guarantee you'd be with her everywhere.

She lightly bites your lower lip, soothing the slight sting with her tongue before pulling back, pressing hotter kisses over your cheek, down to your jaw and back to your neck where she intends to make her mark once more.

You shiver, panting softly, baring your neck once again,"Sev- Sevika-" you hum softly.

She grunts against your neck, not stopping her nipping and marking.

"As much as I love this couch- mmmph-" your eyes flutter as she sucks a mark over your shoulder,"Can we- can we move this to the bedroom-?"

You yelp as she's immediately sitting up to drag you closer by your hips, legs wrapped around her waist, lifting you and standing as she grips your rear.

You press soft kisses to her throat, one hand cupping the back of her head carefully.

She treads carefully, taking her time as she walks you to the bedroom before gently placing you on the bed and cupping your cheeks to kiss you again.

This kiss is deep but brief, she pulls back to grip the bottom of your shirt, looking at you for confirmation before carefully tugging it up and over your head. You're bare beneath the fabric and she's glad- one less obstacle for her feasting eyes.

She takes her shirt off quickly, and you're grateful for the heavenly sight of her as always.

Toned abdomen, dark skin, faint and new scarring across her body with those silvery blue scars beneath her metal arm and across her shoulder. Full breasts come into view as she takes off her bra, nearly having you salivate at the sight.

Your hands move to cup her sides, leaning closer to kiss over the muscle over her stomach, the gesture stirring something in her heart.

She stops you, though, and gently pushes you back against the bed, hands moving down to untie your bottoms and tugging them off. She kisses over your hips, almost like she was worshipping you and the feel of your skin beneath her lips.

That's exactly what she was doing.

She takes her time, remapping your body beneath her lips and hands- the warmth of her flesh hand a stark but welcoming contrast in comparison to the cold of her metal hand.

She was always so careful, cautious as to not knick your skin with her metal hand.

Shivers roll down your spine as she trails back up your legs, lingering above the band of your underwear before moving up to kiss and suck marks over your breasts.

She hovers above you as she moves, mouth coming to suck over a perked nipple.

"Mmph- Sevi-" you whine softly, fingers lacing into her hair,"Need you-"

"You have me," she murmurs, kissing over your heart.

She leans back, standing to grab her strap and belt, coming back and dropping it to the side before kissing back down your front. She pulls off your underwear, tossing them somewhere to be bothered with later.

You sit up slightly, peering down at her as she kneels down on the floor, tugging you in by your hips and lifting one leg over her shoulder, holding the other down against the blankets.

You're embarrassed to see she's just gazing down at your soaked folds, arousal clear as day.

"Sevika-" you groan, attempting to close your legs in embarrassment but she doesn't let you- instead, she leans in, blowing cool air over you teasingly before pressing a soft kiss to your folds.

This is what you loved (hated) most- she took her time, was a certified munch; drawing out the pleasure by giving light and soft touches, slowly spreading you open and licking over your hard clit. She'll pull back to nip along your inner thighs, teasingly kissing around where you most needed her.

You slump back against the bed, whining softly as she prolonges the pleasure while not quite giving enough-

"Sevi- please," you whimper, attempting to roll your hips up to no avail,"More-"

She groans against you, lips sucking over your clit and relishing in your yelp of pleasure. Her grip on your legs is firm, not giving you the chance to squirm into her or away.

Her metal hand holds you down with a firm grip over your stomach as she moves her flesh hand to spread you open further, almost admiring you before her middle finger prods at your hole, carefully pressing in and gaging your reaction for any discomfort.

You sigh in bliss, the discomfort and stretch a far memory from all the times Sevika had honestly fucked your brains out.

She leans back in, flicking her tongue over your clit as she thrusts her finger in and out of you, gradually adding another.

Your knuckles go pale as you grip the sheets, neck arching as moans tumble from your lips.

"Please- please! Sevi-" you babble, chest heaving with the harsh breaths you take in.

Sevika grins, gazing up at you as she quirks her fingers, rubbing into that spot.

"Perfect," she mouths against you,"So perfect for me."

A high whine escaped your lips, drawn out under her rough tongue and deliberate fingers as your thighs tremble. You reach that crest, tumbling over it with her force.

You're warm- so warm, you can feel the cool sweat across your body.

You whine, pushing at her hand as her grip never left, giving her more time to suck over your sensitive clit.

"Too much-" you groan, panting harshly, grimacing at the overstimulation given.

She finally relents, pulling back to gaze up at you with a faint smirk. Her lips are shiny with your slick much to your embarrassment.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, standing up to hover above you and press a soft, lingering kiss to your mouth as she reaches over to grab the strap and belts.

You watch as she pulls it on, securing it over her thick thighs and buckling it over her hips. You spot she managed to grab your personal favorite- a deep purple colored dildo with ridges lined along the topside.

She again, leans in to hover over you as she reaches for some pillows whilst lifting your hips carefully, placing them beneath your lower back.

"You okay, baby?" She murmurs, always careful with you.

You nod, a soft, fond look in your eyes.

"Just admiring the art," you manage to speak softly.

"There's no mirror in here," she retorts, rolling her eyes fondly as she drips lube over the strap before leaning back over you.

You cup her cheek sweetly, tugging her closer to slot your lips over hers.

You can't help the groan escaping your throat, her strap giving slight stimulation as it rubs against you.

She kisses back like she's drinking you in, reaching down between your bodies to guide the tip to your hole, carefully pressing in as she swallows your gasp.

Her tongue pushes in, the faint taste of yourself a surprisingly hot aspect.

She pushes in completely, disconnecting her lips from yours to kiss down to your neck and muttering praises into your skin.

'So good, doll','Take me so well', and 'Always taste so good' to list a few.

You pant, gazing up at the ceiling as you adjust to her strap.

Your arms finally move, having felt like lead, to wrap around her shoulders and one hand cup the back of her neck.

"You can-" you swallow,"You can move, Sevi."

She kisses your shoulder, humming as she slowly pulls out, then pushes back in. She begins a steady rhythm, slowly picking up speed as your soft moans begin to tumble from your lips.

She pulls back from being burrowed into your neck, one hand gripping your hip as she speeds up more, gazing down between your bodies to see the strap covered in your slick upon each thrust.

"Fuck, baby," she muses,"so wet- all for me?"

You manage a weak nod, whimpering a soft moan.

At this point, you kind of go starry eyed. You can't help but gaze up at her, taking in each and every mark- every form of muscle flexing as she bucks into you, the sweat beading up around her temples.

Her short hair even manages to stick to her skin or swaying with her thrusts.

"You're so-" you moan, eyes fluttering as it takes you a moment to get back on track,"so handsome- fuck, Sevi-!"

Sevika groans at that, her hips stuttering as she sits up, chest heaving. Both hands now grip your waist, tugging you into her thrusts. Her tits bounce with the force she's picked up and you can't recall a time you wanted to touch her more.

You cry out a series of moans, head tilting back and eyes fluttering as the onslaught of pleasure builds up fast, that coil below your gut winding up quick.

"Ah- mmph-" you whimper,"Sevi- oh, fuck!"

She smirks down at you, groaning alongside you.

What you don't see is that the straps belts perfectly form over her own cunt, where she grinds her clit down as she fucks into you. She can almost imagine it's actually her cock that fills you up.

"C'mon, baby," she coos, flesh hand reaching down to press her thumb into your clit,"Cum on my dick-"

You bark out a moan, a plethora of various moans and whines ripping from your throat as your back arches almost painfully- you find your release per her request, tightening up on the strap like a vice.

Your vision goes white just as you clench your eyes shut, gripping over her metal hand still holding your hip. Your thighs tighten up, not letting her go.

You heave for breath, panting harshly as you slowly slump back onto the bed.

But Sevika doesn't stop, relishing in the sight of your release slicking up the strap even moreso. She bucks, rolls her hips, chasing her high as her clit grinds into the belt.

You whine softly, watching through nearly closed eyes as she folds in, hovering above you and rolling her hips until they stutter, a low groan coming from her throat as she cums.

She slumps on you, gasping for breath.

It's silent for a few moments and you realize you had completely tuned out the noise outside.

You slowly bring your hand up to card your fingers through the hair at the back of her head.

She hums against your chest, kissing you there softly.

"So good for me, baby," she praises you, before carefully sitting up and pulling the strap from your core.

You wince, feeling empty but she's quick to come back once she's finished taking it off and tossing it to the side. She had grabbed a damp cloth, carefully wiping you down and cleaning between your legs before cleaning herself. When she turns to toss the cloth elsewhere, you sit up, watching her move about and collecting the clothes into a pile.

"Do you want me to..?" You murmur in the quiet room.

She looks at you, a soft smirk on her lips as she crosses back over to you and tugging the blankets back before settling in. She pulls you into her side, covering you before she hums.

"I already.. did," she speaks softly, kissing your temple.

You pull back to look at her, eyebrow raised,"you did?"

She only nods in response before murmuring a soft,'Sleep'.

You settle in beside her, naked form pressed up against hers. You idly trace the metal design across her prosthetic before cupping her cheek and kissing her softly.

When you pull back, you manage to mutter,"Thank you, handsome."

Her cheeks warm, a small scoff coming out before she rolls her eyes and tugs you back down to sleep.

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A/N: lmk if you wanna be added to a taglist! I might start writing for some other characters, lmk if you have any requests!

[coralinnii]

"Eyes are Windows to the Soul"

↳ Admiring your Dark Brown eyes

feat: Idia ❋ Sebek ❋ Kalim ❋ Trey genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used for reader, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

Idia grew up sheltered in a sterile world, filled with LED lights and sleek metal walls. Shades of brown were not common in his daily routine, so he didn’t have a lot of opinions on it. 

In a world of neon blue and cold silver, your brown eyes ironically stood out in Idia’s world. 

Your eyes remind him of fluffy brown kittens, filled with warmth and mischief. You remind him of those adorable teddy bear prizes in claw machines that everyone covets. You were everything he dreams of holding, but often out of reach.

That is until the two of you grew closer, then he sees your eyes in the ice-cold colas he’s chugging during long grinding sessions with you. He feels a tingling sensation when he sees your eyes in the dry autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet whenever you drag him out to “touch some grass” 

Your brown eyes remind him of everything fluffy and warm, of fuzzy feelings and snugness. 

Your eyes give off energy, but it’s not scary or overwhelming at all. Rather, it’s soft and enjoyable like a refreshing drink on a hot day.

You seem so out of place in his old world, but Idia couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore.

”Uggh, that cat is just too cute, what a sensory overload! Huh, when did brown cats become my fav? I-I guess kinda recently?”

Sebek holds himself with prestige and integrity, a well-kept man with honor to uphold. 

But his experience is filled with the great wilderness, with the natural and unbending beauty of the forest. He proudly recalls his childhood living close to the world of fae and nature. 

You were a human. Your upbringing was nothing like his own, a pair of opposites with nothing in common

But, when you look at him with your sweet brown eyes, Sebek sometimes feels lost in nostalgia. In your eyes, he sees the beautiful trees of his homeland, he sees his beloved worn-out books in his bookshelves passed down by his grandfather. 

Not only his childhood memories, Sebek feels the same feeling of familiarity in his current lifestyle. He’s reminded of the joy and excitement he feels when he trusts his whole self to the majestic brown horses in the campus wooden stables. 

Is it because just like his trusted steed, your warm brown eyes effortlessly shine with so much strength?

Lost in your eyes, he recalls feelings of comfort and home, a connection to what makes Sebek…himself. Though he may not admit it, the stubborn young man finds solace just by staring into your eyes.

"Do I ever feel homesick? Of course I do! I simply… haven’t been feeling all that distant from my homeland as of late”

Kalim is not only surrounded by shades of brown, but also reds, yellows, greens, and everything else in the large spectrum of color. His world is bright and vibrant, never a dull moment for the boisterous heir. 

You fit right into his life, adding more happiness to his routine. Your existence gave off a sense of wholesome, sweet fun. You join him in his highs yet keep him grounded when he flies too close to the Sun

To anyone else, Kalim lacks nothing in terms of riches. He is financially blessed for generations to come, and Kalim is not ignorant enough to deny otherwise. 

But lately, whenever he watches you, he ponders on what the word “rich” truly meant to him. 

Some would call your brown eyes pretty but rather plain, but regardless Kalim would catch himself swimming in the hue of your irises. 

In your eyes, he sees the deep color of expensive cognac that many would gift his parents, he sees the color of flawless leather prized by countless merchants, and he sees the color of fertile soil that nurtures and feeds his country. 

If someone were to ask his opinion, Kalim would say that richness and pricelessness could be defined by your eyes. Kalim may have an abundance of gold and silver but there is no price that could compare to the look of pure love in your exquisite eyes.

"Have you ever seen a chocolate diamond before? They’re really pretty with a wonderful shine. I really like them, I’ll show you one someday!”

While he isn’t against dabbling in certain subjects and interests, Trey has a pretty solid idea of his future, to become a patissier and to either inherit his family's bakery or start his own business. 

Trey doesn’t see himself as anyone extravagant nor does he really want to be. Sure, he may be in a prestigious school, and he may hold an enviable position as a vice-Housewarden, but the green-haired senior holds himself more modestly. 

You knew well of his humble dream, and he appreciated the way you would support him however you can, be it a taste tester for new recipes or assisting him in the kitchen before a busy unbirthday party. 

In this close proximity, Trey is allowed more chances to glance your way, especially your eyes. 

He sees the resemblance in your eyes the color of the chestnuts you collected with the mischievous freshmen, the first day he noticed how cute you were. He’s reminded of warm brownies and cookies he would bake in secret just for you, all to see those very eyes sparkle. He imagines a brick house in the same shade as your eyes, where he’ll live out his peaceful life with you.

In your warm brown eyes, he feels reassurance and security. Trey doesn’t need a lavish lifestyle or a grand plan. All he could wish for is a life where he could bake cakes and pay taxes with you.

“I’m not exactly the most romantic with words, but I do like your eyes. They remind me of…my oven. Ah, that sounded a bit…” 

[izzabela]

white noise - audio 1

a/n: I just wanted to drop in and say....THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE ORIGINAL IDEA SO HARD GUYS!!! special thanks to @junovae , @red5tars , @devil-in-hiding , and @beloveds-embrace for boosting and hyping my idea up. i've been letting this marinate in my head for a long time, and I'm so glad that it's well-received :)

please please PLEASE enjoy guys, i worked really hard to make sure this was a perfect first chapter :>

"What on God's green Earth do you think you're doing with this schedule!?" your boss's words flying to you as fast as the papers he threw off the side his desk.

As the assortment of schedules, checks, files, and folders rain down like snow, you simply look at your boss with a cool smile and dead eyes. You've dealt with things like this before, the same tantrums over and over again with a man who's still growing up at forty-five.

The sun was setting over the New York City skyline, and you've just about had it for the day. It's been thirty minutes since your allotted time to clock out, and this man-child is still holding you up like a baby with his pacifier.

"Sir, you have a meeting with XYZ's CEO stand-in Friday morning," you calmly explain to the toddler as you pick up his mess. "That same day, you have a lunch on Wall Street with Mr. Allen in regard to the upcoming acquisition to one of your sub-companies."

Without breaking a sweat (but most definitely popping a blood vessel), you continue to give reasonable excuses for your choice in scheduling.

"And on that same day, sir, your presence is requested at your brother's residence, to celebrate his third engagement," you finish, giving him a good once-over to see how he's doing. "Speaking of, did you purchase that Rolex I linked you? I had sent you a message via work-phone with the exact link."

He's matting his poorly-worn toupee wig down and coughing profusely.

100-0, you tally your mental game you've been keeping track of.

As you grab the last piece of paper, ironically the one with his Friday schedule, you place the stack back on the center of his desk. There's enough force pressed down that his name plaque jumps (maybe in fear for your wrath too).

"Do you have any other questions sir? Or am I free to go home?" you smile tightly, hands neatly over themselves on your belly.

"Y-you're free to leave," he pulls his necktie nervously, beads of sweat on his forehead and palms as his butter-fingers attempt to fix his tie.

You nod, keeping the tight smile all the way past the threshold of his office, past the snarky bitch of a front-desk woman, and all the way to the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Pumps," the elevator-doorman greets you. "Long day in the office?"

"An understatement, George..." you sigh, rubbing your temples in circles to soothe an incoming headache.

George was probably your only peace in this hellscape of an office: kind demeanor, soft voice, manners, it seems the bar is below the ground with how poorly people behave here in your office.

It's silent on the way down, the light jazz of the elevator music filling the conversation-less space.

Ding

George's gloved hand presses the open door button, and you mosey on out with a little falter in your step.

"Take a rest, Pumps. Lord knows what will happen if you leave that man to his devices," he humors, earning your chuckle as you give him one more wave before walking past the front desk of the main entrance and into the revolving doors.

You spin in the revolving doors for a mere moment before getting spat out back on the street. You'd think that the sunset would help soothe your growing pain, but the streets come to life with blaring neon lights and flickering street lamps.

This is New York City after all.

Slapping your shades on and plugging your earphones in, you begin the trek home. Your houlders slumped and legs dragging like an army man coming home from deployment, you mindlessly listen to your de-stress playlist to try and relax before heading home. You don't think the pain of your head will leave until Siri reads a notification.

A NEW POST FROM GHOST PLUS A LONG MESSAGE, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO READ IT?

Suddenly all your pain felt nonexistent, and you've regained bounce in your step once again. Your favorite voice actor posted, and a long notification means scripted content.

You discovered him, a VA named "Ghost" after scrolling through Reddit for a bit. The nation of subgroups and communities, you found your forever home with him after a ramble fap of his after a stressful day of work a couple of years ago.

Enamored by his husky voice, low timbre of his throat, and his British accent, you learned he had more than just Reddit. You didn't think you'd be addicted, but after exhausting his master-list on Reddit, you decide to follow his links to other places.

Other than his fifty-thousand on Reddit, he has one-hundred thousand on Youtube for his SFWs and one million on TFCo (the audio company he belongs to)- and when you saw his exclusive content? Well, you just had to get your hands on it all. Not to mention he's a successful voice acting career in audio books (you've bought those solely because he voices some of the characters).

And if one thinks this is degenerate, try working for a man who can't think for himself- you'd do anything to decompress and relax.

Which is where you are in the present, picking up your pace to head back to your house so you can relax with the voice that makes you delusional.

The walk felt like a marathon, but you finally made it to the lobby of your apartment. You don't even need to push the door open when they swing inwards for you, accompanied by another familiar voice.

"'Notha long day, Pumps?" a thick Yankee accent rings in your ears. You offer a bright smile, trying to hide the fact your leg muscles have been screaming at you all day.

You take your earphones out. "Nothin' I can't handle, Tony," you describe your day in a mere two words. He only sighs and shakes his head, offering to walk you all the way to the elevator.

Tony looks at you funny, "Can't fool me, lil' miss," he scolds. "Your calves are twitchin', 'ich means you need a good 'n long bath."

You chuckle, "You got it Thomas. Warm bath and sleep."

You hear a faint "atta girl" as you step into the elevator, and his figure disappears behind the silver walls as you go up to another battle.

Ding

The doors part, and you hear the echo of your shoes bounce off the walls as you near your flat door. Lost in the sea of your stuff, your keys probably lost in the void called "your purse," you hear a shuffle and a click of another door opening.

Out walks the guy that moved in right next door. You watch with a glare, eyeing him like someone eyes a stain on their clothes. He wears the same black trousers, black t-shirt topped with a black jacket with his head hooded, and that stupid black face mask with the lower part of a skull.

"Evenin' Simon," you begrudgingly greet. He turns towards you, also eyes you head to toe, and nods.

You do everything in your power to hold yourself back from strangling him.

Simon always struck you as odd: didn't talk to anyone, wore black (and black only), and dressed poorly. Everyone who lived in this side of NYC came from daddy's money, mommy's trust fund, or a mix of both. You took his apprehension in talking as introversion, so you tried to make your presence (and support) known from afar.

In the first month he moved in, you tried to strike up conversation whenever you'd see him leave or enter his room. Just like he did now, he'd offer nothing but a simple glance-over and a sizing, eyeing up and down like a child.

Over the next couple of months, you tried peace offerings of food and snacks. From homemade meals, to little snacks and munchies, you left them at his doorstep for him to grab by himself. You're pretty sure he hated them, usually finding nothing left on your door.

(Unbeknownst to you, Simon ate everything of yours to the bone- no crumbs left).

Since his initial move-in, you've counted that it'll be almost a year since he moved next door to you. God found you his strongest soldier with the way you remained so patient with him and his disdain for others.

One thing you haven't let go, though, was the noise he made late in the night. Whatever he missed in the day (which is usually 100% of noise he never made in the day), he'd make it up tenfold deep into the night. Sometimes you hear him curse loudly, or the annoying creak of his bed slamming into his wall. There were even moments where you've heard him laugh like a villain, before he'd goes back to letting curses wring out like water from a wash rag.

You've really tried to be patient with him, but juggling between a fool of a boss and an ignorant man, you felt it chip away at you like weathered stone.

You make your frustration clear, shuffling the stuff in your bag a bit louder, hoping that he'd get the memo, but he walks past you like a speck of dirt- unnoticed and left behind. Finding your flat key, you groan as you twist, unlock, and make it inside your apartment. You drop everything in the hallway, kick your heels off, and crash on your couch.

Usually you'd take this time to scroll through Instagram, catch up with messages you missed, or simply flip through Netflix to find the perfect show, but all you craved right now is sleep, a shower, and food (maybe a bit of wine too).

"Get to it, Pumps," you scold yourself, pushing yourself off the plush cushions. "For George and Tony..."

Seems your doorman and elevator-man were right, a hot shower does wonders. Though you came out of the shower a bit dazed, at least you were relaxed now. Your stomach wasn't, though, as it grumbled angrily.

"Yeah yeah, I heard ya," you mumbled, opening up your fridge to find it empty and sad (was that a fly leaving?). You curse and make a mental note for groceries tomorrow after work.

"Ramen will do just fine," you answer yourself, walking to the pantry to grab an instant pack to cook.

It's nice and quiet as you cook your noodles, the faint sounds of the city traffic sounding more like a lullaby than record scratch. You look over to your side as you stir your pot, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing full view of the Empire State building, park, and the other buildings in the area.

Taking the pot off the stove, you carefully place it over a pot holder and grab a bowl. Pouring the soup and noodles in, you multitask and check anymore notifications you missed through the day, and the one from a couple of hours ago is first in line. The TFCo notification banner is calling your name, and you press it immediately to see what's new with your man, "Ghost."

The notification read an announcement for a new exclusive drop, a werewolf!shifter! in rut taking his pretty bunny!shifter in heat, and the tags filled your belly with butterflies: primal play, chase, CNC, shifters, and a mean!ghost tag- the list is filled with dirty tropes that make your core tighten and panties damp.

You're tempted to drop everything and fall victim to your desires, but ignoring your stomach felt like a bad omen in the making (and another earful from Tony would not be good). Besides, it was on your phone- you can wait.

Enjoying the loaded sodium soup of your ramen, you do some more doom scrolling on some other accounts and socials of VAs you follow. You occasionally listen to Soap Dish, a Scot with a fiery temper and even hotter audios, you listen to him when you want something goofy or silly. Occasionally though, he'll drop a great CNC, mean audio that really gets you heated.

Then there's Gazzandgoo (Gaz for short), another British VA with great all-around content. Ranging from mean BDSM audios to him whimpering and subbing, you enjoy Gaz's flexibility and range with his voice. A guilty pleasure of yours is his whimpering and sub audios (high powered job needs equal amounts of destress right?).

Slurping the last of your soup down, you didn't realize the time left you as your phone's clock read "eleven thirty" (was the doom-scroll that bad this time around?). Doesn't matter since it's officially "you time"- where only you, your search history, and the government knows what you're doing tonight.

After a quick rinse and toss of your bowl and utensils in your dishwasher, you dig for your headphones from your bag so you can indulge. Scooping it out, along with some papers, hair pins, and business cards, you leave the mess for tomorrow as you enter your room. Pictures of your friends, the few family you had in contact, diploma, and posters judge you as you get into bed and in a comfortable position.

Leaning back, headphones in, you press the notification of the TFCo app and watch your phone light up with the direct audio link of Ghost and his latest content.

There's lots of sound effects as the audio plays, the script being very in depth. You hear the rustling of leaves and grass, the billowing breeze, and the faintest noise of pebbles rolling over each other. The image of a forest is painted in your mind, and the painting gains a new addition with the sound of ragged breathing.

"Ah.... fuck..." the recording of Ghost's voice is in the background as you hear his groans and moans grow closer.

You close your eyes and let yourself go in the audio, imagining Ghost's werewolf character pouncing on top of you.

"'N what's this pretty bunny doin' here?" he muses in your ears. "Wandered on the wrong side of the forest, huh? Stupid fucking bun..."

Your legs twist and close, the friction of your panty fabric and your legs pressing together getting you worked up. Imagining what Ghost looks like, what he feels like, is sending you into overdrive as he continues to speak in your headphones.

"You look fucking delicious," he groans, and you shiver as you hear the sound effects of his hands running across a toy he uses for a body. "So soft, so fucking perfect. Gonna be a meal for me?"

You dumbly reply to the emptiness of your room, and your cheeks blush as Ghost groans again.

"You sound so cute begging for your life. How 'bout a deal?" he eggs you on, and you nod once again.

"If you can outrun me and make it out the forest, you get your life," he offers the first half of his wager.

He chuckles, "The other part? That's easy, isn't it bun?" you hear him brush over his mic to get real close. "If you can't, you'll be my meal."

"On the count of three. One, two," your chest is rising and falling quickly, the anticipation of what he'll do pushing you to the edge. "Go."

The sound effects of your character running through the grass, hopping and sprinting in order to stay alive. You cave and shove your hands down under the waistband of your panties, fingers flicking over your sensitive bud as you can hear Ghost grow closer and closer.

You hear the sounds of Ghost wrestling, noises of foliage and nature bending and breaking under you. The audio paints the picture of you pinned under Ghost, and his maniacal laughter rolls through your ears thanks to binaural headphone settings.

"Pathetic," he spits out at your futile escape. "Were you even trying?"

It sounds like Ghost was sniffing you, his inhalations close to the mic as he comments on your scent. You can also hear the sfx of him reaching down and to your aching pussy.

"Oh... maybe you weren't trying bunny," he teases, the audio effects of pussy squelching invading your ears. "Maybe you wanted this- wanted to get lost, caught, and eaten alive by the big bad wolf..."

You whimper, circles over your little clit growing faster and needier as his voice rings through your mind. "Beg me for your life- 'please don't eat me, Mr. Wolf'- beg me nice 'n proper..."

The squelching grows more obscene, and you can't tell if that's your own cunt or the toy he's using in the audio. It doesn't matter though, as the sounds of wet pussy stop, and you hear a shift in weight and position.

"I take it back- no need to beg when your cunt is drenched, bun," he teases, and you're so sure his cock in tapping the entrance of the toy that represents you.

"What? Scared? 'Fraid my cock's gonna hurt?" he asks, and you respond with a sad keen (ironic, since your fingers are working overtime for you to reach your peak).

Suddenly, a deep grumble and "oh fuck" is heard, and you realize Ghost is stuffing you full in the audio. You moan a little louder, slipping a single finger in, curling it to make sure it hits your spot just right.

Perverted sounds of Ghost's cock bullying the toy he uses to represent his listeners fill your ears, and the sounds of said toy smashing into his hips add sprinkles of erotica as you imagine yourself getting stuffed full of him. Lost in your own pleasure, you squeeze your eyes tight as you focus on reaching your finish.

You must've wandered a little too far in your imagination as you didn't feel your earbuds fall of your ears. The audio is no longer heard for you, but you can't tell when you're riding off of your imagination (and maybe the faint audio that's coming from the earbuds, since they're on full blast).

You're drawn out of your lust as the earbuds fall like marbles on your hardwood floors. Immediately, your hand flies away from your aching sex, and you see the buds lay pitifully on the floor. You groan, borderline sulking over the fact something so simple drew you away from your peak.

As you reach for your tech, your ears catch on to another noise. It's coming past your bedroom walls, and it sounds a lot like the audio you're listening to right now.

"Such a good girl f'r me..." the voice groans, a strangled moan escaping the lips of your neighbor and entering your ears.

"He sounds so familiar...." you whisper to yourself, and the next line he grunts out pieces all of the issues you've had with him together.

"You wanted this, didn'tcha? Takin' all 'f me like a dumb slag, but'cha wanted this didn'tcha?"

"You like this, don't ya?" he annunciates, semi-muffled noises of a pocket-pussy getting stretched out like actual cunt floating into your ears.

Every ounce of arousal has left your body as your braincells fire and connect the dots, and you swear you can hear the sounds of bells echoing in your brain.

"Ghost" is Simon, and Simon is "Ghost."

And "Ghost" is your neighbor.

ding ding ding

[richardsgraysons]

speak of her over my grave (and watch how she brings me back to life)

Make no mistake; Jason Todd will crawl back to you with blood frothing in his mouth, beaten and bruised. He will crawl back to you like a stray dog who has learned the touch of kindness from a gentle hand.

He crawls back to you like a stray dog, like something worth loving. He crawls back to you with hope in those violent eyes of his because when he runs rampant every night in that cold air, all he dreams of is you.

These hands are stained with violenceㅡhow can you love them?

It’s not impossible if it’s you. If it’s you, I will.

I will cross a thousand rivers for you; and I have. I will fight a thousand men to keep you safe; and I have. I will defend you to my dying breath; and I have.

He does not regret going to that warehouse instead of you. He does not regret that ‘J’ carved in your face for you. 

Because he knows that when you thought he had left you permanently, you wrecked havoc on the world. You screamed for a thousand men, you screamed when no one else did. Clambering his weary bones out of that green pit was worth it.

As he lays in the bed, holding you in his arms, he looks down. His green eyes, once forest green, now violent neon, stare youㅡhis beloved, his reason for living.

You contain eons in the quiet way you slumber. You bring down empires with your soft nestlings. And when he holds you, he feels warm again. No longer does the cruelty of the green embrace him. All he feels is warmth.

When he holds you in this bed, you crawl inside his rotten heart where you nestle between the stains. He holds you a little tighter and it his way of beggingㅡlove me there, where I am most ruined. Haunt me in the places where there is no light.

Jason knows he doesn’t deserve such kindness.

When he closes his eyes and all he can see and hear is the Joker, when any noise and sound reminds him of that damned warehouse in the Middle Eastㅡwhen his arms tighten you so hard that you cannot breathe, you accept him for the man who he is.

There are places where his heart darkens. He goes beyond the edge of the earth. He goes where you cannot follow yet you pick up your pace anyways.

You go where he goes.

That is the way it’s always been.

He holds you a little tighter because he knows of the pains of this world. He experiences them daily. Every night, when he adorns that hood and wears those weapons, he stares death in the eye again.

And he comes home and his sins are cleansed by your smile.

You who holds the sun; you who bring him back to life every morning.

[outofconcheol]

resonance (scb x f!reader)

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, arranged marriage, e2l (a little bit), sort of cyberpunk au, 18+

summary: Perfection - an idea that’s been drilled into you from birth. As the sole heir to the empire known as Miroh Labs, you’ve watched technology and tradition collide. However, your family’s latest venture is one that puts your own fate in limbo – ambitiously arranging a marriage to an android of their creation, known as C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N. Grappling with the idea of marrying a machine, you come to realize Changbin is more than a set of intricate codes – the profound depths of his abilities are capable of changing the fabric of society, and you, forever.

warnings: strained parent child relationships (OC's parents are jerks), mentions of past abuse (very mild and not described in detail), class differences, failed past relationship references numerous times, cameos from Chan, Jisung, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Yuna (ITZY), fair warning OC is a lot, Changbin is precious, self-doubt and negative feelings, arguments, alcohol, blood and injury, swearing, genetic engineering, talks of self-determination and agency, Streetlight my beloved makes an appearance

word count: 12k

a/n: happy (belated) bday to my beloved Changbin (almost a month later, nice)! i hope this is enjoyable and worthy of someone as wonderful as Changbin seems (i might have slightly fallen in love with him while writing this, don't look at me). the lovely banner is by Sarah (@caelesjjk). I hope you enjoy!

smut warnings under the cut!

smut warnings: sexual tension (lots of it), making out, kind of hatefucking?, sex outside (against a railing), clothed sex, dirty talk, brief nipple play, thigh riding, fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex (just because Changbin can doesn't mean you should), honestly more mild than the warnings imply

It’d been years since you’d seen candles - forgotten memories of birthdays past that faded into oblivion. Their warm, nascent glow had flickered much like your own life had, the comfort of past years giving way to the bright, grating pixels of the lights that illuminated New Domino - bright pinks, vivid greens, cool blues and silvers. Lights that greeted you from your window when you went to bed every night, reminding you that no matter how much your life stalled, the city never would, much of it your own family’s doing.

The years before Miroh Labs, your family’s company, took hold of the city,  became difficult to recall — before the towering skyscrapers blocked out the sun, neon lights replacing its rays, technology weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of your lives, like the patterns on your dress.

Picking at the threads – you wonder if someone had put love and care into intertwining each one, meeting perfectly to create the image of a flower. But the thought quickly dispels — knowing that a specialized machine was behind it, or an android doing the work that was once meant for humans. 

Resonance, your family prided themselves on saying. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – only it’d progressed beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Systems had advanced from being motherboards connected to screens to full blown humanized machines, who not only had to ability to perform human functions, but excel at them when it came to speed, efficiency, and cost. 

The thought of it made you sick to your stomach. As the presumptive heir to Miroh Labs’ empire, you’d seen firsthand how ambition had slowly given way to greed, your family creating and creating and creating, giving no mind to how their projects always seemed to end up in the hands of the city’s elite.

You’d been to the outskirts, the fringes of society failing to catch up with the advancement of the inner city, a ruined wasteland where people struggled to find work to bring home food for their families.

But they had candles, you muse, smiling lightly to yourself, remembering how you’d passed by a home once, devoid of any electricity, a single candle flickering in the window, the family huddled around their only source of light. It had brought them closer in ways that you could only dream of.

Which is why the intimate setting of the dining room shocked you today – lights dim, candleglow every prominent. Except instead of comforting you, it felt strangely eerie, casting shadows on the faces of your parents, seated at the head of the long table, your own chair pulled out at the very opposite end. 

Of course - your parents spared no opportunity to turn even the simplest of dinners into a boardroom meeting. Wincing, you feel the chair screech as you slide it across the cool tile, the sound grating your ears, which have begun to ring, pain throbbing at your temples.

The food is untouched, grave expressions on your parents’ face, and it’s your father who breaks the deafening silence.

“There’s a new project we want you to be a part of—”

“Forget it,” you pick at your plate. “I’m not interested. It’s not like I can contribute anything useful anyway.”

“This one’s different,” your mother’s voice cuts you off, and it’s softer, more gentle than you’ve ever heard it. For a moment, you could believe she actually cared.

Your father’s footsteps reverberate against the tile, walking over to your side of the table. A picture is set in front of you – a man. Dark curly hair, full lips, a strong jaw, the faint hint of muscle underneath his shirt. But it’s his eyes that pierce through the page – stark hazel. Your throat feels tight, closing in on itself.

“New employee?” you ponder, even though you know it’s not the answer.

Hazel eyes were for androids — no human would have eyes so piercing, ones that could glint in the darkest room, or pale in the brightest sun.

“___, meet C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Advanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. Our pride and joy.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the words, knowing they’d never applied to you – you with your rebellious streak, your lack of achievements, your failed engagement to a man that was far too good for you. 

Hyunjin’s face flashes in the back of your mind, and you fight to keep your expression from shifting.

“C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N was created for a very specific purpose you see — he’s been built and programmed to be the perfect companion. To provide all the qualities that one would normally seek in a spouse. Although humans are falliable, C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N is not. But we need a beta tester.”

The reality of what your parents are proposing dawns on you, horror creeping up your spine.

“No–,” you begin to protest, but you’re cut off by a wave of your father’s hand. 

“The announcements have already been uploaded to the city-wide servers. Starting tomorrow, news of C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N’s launch will go live, along with your engagement announcement. The wedding will be held in a week’s’ time.”

You look despondently to your mother, hoping the pain in your eyes is enough to dissuade her. Were you really that worthless to your parents that they’d hand you to a hunk of scrap metal, dooming you to loneliness for the rest of your life?

Your mother shakes her head. “___, dear, this is the least you can do for us, and for Miroh Labs. Especially given everything that’s happened.”

They always wielded it against you — the fact that you were hard to love. You hadn’t been enough to persuade Hyunjin to stay, and they’d experienced the fallout from whispers all around New Domino. Now, you were barely human in their eyes, not even equal to, and probably lesser than this machine they’d fabricated, one whose fate had become irrevocably intertwined with yours. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

When Changbin wakes, everything is a blur. While his lungs don’t burn for air, his circuits are driven haywire anyway by the new environment - the harsh gleam of fluorescent lights, the gentle whirring of motors, the coolness of the metal table. It hits him all at once, and he’s tempted to close his eyes again, to return to the darkness of being powered down.

A figure looms over him, a taller man in a lab coat, his eyes gentle and full of concern, almost as if he’s holding his breath looking at Changbin.

“Hello C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, my name is Chan. I am one of the lead research developers at Miroh Labs. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Changbin feels his system boot up, gentle heat spreading through the center of his body, all the way to his fingertips.

“Good morning, Chan. I am C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Andvanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. How may I be of assistance?”

His voice reverberates through his speakers, a monotonous tinge resounding against the empty walls of the lab, and he watches Chan’s face twist,

“Do you know why you’re here right now?” Chan asks, curiosity in his gaze.

“I am an advanced computer-human android, programmed to fulfill the role of a partner. My duties and capabilities include companionship, emotional support, and assistance with domestic tasks, designed to blend into one’s life seamlessly.”

As he speaks, Changbin notices his sensors blinking, watching different parts of his arm, chest, and the rest of his body light up as various programs are activated. 

Chan slides something in his direction – a sheet of paper with a picture on it. He takes a look at it, his cameras analyzing the woman in the photo. Everything from the colour of her hair to the tiny mole on the back of her hand, to the way she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, perhaps evidence that something is different with her psychology from normal humans.

“This is ___, the next in line to be CEO of Miroh Labs. You will be her future companion,” Chan sighs heavily. “The family has already gone live with the announcement for the wedding, we only have a week to prepare.”

Changbin’s sensors beep, red lights blinking while he processes what Chan is saying, and Chan looks on, a deep furrow in between his brows.

“A w-week?” Changbin, stutters, and Chan already wonders if there’s something wrong with his circuitry. That couldn’t be possible though, the ___ family had tasked him with working on this for the better part of nine months, dedicating each and every hour of his spare time to this endeavour. He brushes off the thought, knowing that there was no way your parents would proceed unless everything was guaranteed to be perfect. After all, the motto of Miroh Labs was to create a more perfect world.

Changbin straightens, legs swinging over the edge of the table as he rises, standing slightly shorter than Chan.

“I understand my responsibilities, Chan. I assure you I will carry them out to the best of my abilities, until ___ is nothing less than satisfied.”

Chan looks at the android in front of him, his face softening. For a moment, Changbin looked as real as him – from the way his hair curled to the strong lines of his body. He almost reminded him of a younger sibling, and a protective instinct washed over Chan.

“I know you will Changbin. But there’s also something you should know.”

Changbin looks up with anticipation at Chan, wondering if there was a new program Chan wanted to add, and whether that meant he had to wait before he could meet ___.

“Please don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, but should you ever decide that this is what you want, or that you desire to do something different, to be somewhere else, there’s always a way out. You’re more than just an android Changbin.”

Changbin’s processors began to hum. More than just an android? It didn’t make sense to him. His programs were designed to be the best, to cover every single duty one could expect from a partner. What more could there be? Still, Chan’s words sparked intrigue, and he saved a recording of them to his memory, just in case they would be useful later.

“Alright then Changbin, shall we get started? There’s a lot we need to go over about ___ before the wedding happens. Her favourite colour, favourite foods, the layout of her apartment … these will help inform your programs to adapt even more perfectly to your duties,” Chan’s voice is calm and even, with no hints of the darkness of the previous conversation in his tone at all.

They tour around the laboratories, Chan introducing him to the new world he was now expected to be a part of — from the windows, Changbin looks out onto New Domino, watching the hovercrafts zip down the neon-lit streets, and the skyscrapers graze the clouds, a dense fog covering up the skyline. 

Changbin listens intently as Chan goes on, his motors continuing to whir and sensors lighting up as each new piece of information is revealed — the new dimensions of his existence seemed vast and overwhelming, and he worried whether he’d be up to the task, knowing what happened to androids who were faulty – they were deprogrammed, becoming no more than scrap metal to fuel the fires of those on the fringes of society. Shuddering at the thought, Changbin knew he had no choice but to succeed. All he could hope was that you would accept him too. 

Goosebumps rise all along your arms — you feel the thorns of the roses prick your fingers as you clutch the bouquet in your hands tighter, listening from behind the door as the muted whispers of the guests fill the ceremony space. You can hear cameras going off, preparing yourself to be met with a grand scene - shimmering lights, velvet drapes, everything bathed in opulent hues of gold and silver. 

There’s an uncomfortable buzz – everything had happened so quickly. From the invitations going out to the details being finalized, you’d had little to no say in any of it, the uncomfortable lace of the dress you could barely voice your resistance to scratching against your skin, setting it on fire. For once, you wished you could down a glass of champagne or two to keep the nerves at bay. 

A pit settles in your stomach once the door opens, and you’re blinded by the twinkling lights of crystal chandeliers. Heart pounding in your ears, you move automatically without thinking, heels clacking against the polished marble floor. Everything around you is a blur – senses in overdrive, it all melds together. The bright flashes of the photographers, the uncomfortably cold temperature of the room, even the soft tones of the piano becoming grating to your ears.

The only thing that remains clear is the figure waiting for you at the end. You suck in a breath – seeing Changbin for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning of a specimen he was. Of course, he’d been designed to be crafted to perfection, but he was beyond flawless. 

Clad in a black tux, the fabric hugs his broad, muscular, frame and tapers at the waist, highlighting his athletic build. His dark hair is swept away from his forehead, exposing the prominent angles of his face. The put-togetherness of his appearance must only serve to highlight the chaos of your own, the makeup doing little to cover up the lack of sleep you’d dealt with ever since that fateful meeting with your parents. 

Coming up to the altar, Changbin extends his hand in your direction, and you’re shocked when you feel the warmth of his hand. Sparks jolt where your skin makes contact, and for a moment you forget that he’s not human like you, a jumble of circuits and running electricity. But it floats away when his posture goes rigid once again, with no hint of emotion on his face. 

Mechanical – that’s how every bit of this felt. From the brittleness in the officiant’s tone as he droned on about the sanctity of marriage, to the pointed stares and light din that surrounded what should have been a sacred moment – two souls joining together as one. But Changbin didn’t have a soul. And you weren’t sure you did either. The two of you were just glass figurines, put on display for everyone to ogle, cogs in the machine of this elaborate public spectacle that your parents had crafted. 

For a brief moment, you wonder if Hyunjin’s somewhere in the crowd, eyes widening as you search frantically for him, the one person who could have been your out, your chance at a normal life. But not a single face stands out to you – a crowd of strangers looking back at you. A bead of sweat pools at the base of your neck, and you suck in a breath.

You feel fingers wrap around your own, Changbin’s hand coming to clasp around yours, and it takes a moment for you to reorient yourself to the scene going on around you. The officiant is asking you to join hands, ready to repeat the vows that will join you and Changbin together. 

Changbin’s eyes bore into yours, the hazel containing more depth than you’d imagined for an android. 

“Are you ok?” the words are whispered so quietly you may have almost missed them. In fact, you believe you might have missed them, unable to believe what’s coming out of Changbin’s mouth. His voice is deeper than you’d expected, gravelly yet with a pleasant tone, far from the flat and monotone affect you’d expected. 

Either two things could have been true in this moment: 1) Changbin knew you better than you knew yourself, or 2) he was malfunctioning, a slip in his meticulous programming. But androids weren’t people, they weren’t capable of feeling for people. They were only capable of completing the tasks set out for them. 

You drop his hand, lips parting, unable to croak out a reponse for fear of arousing suspicion. But the moment is over before you’d even had a chance to respond, buried underneath his calculated rigidness once more. 

The knife twists deeper in your gut when your lips curl around the “I do”, the words sounding as artificial as Changbin’s own, sealing the vows that doomed the two of you to a loveless existence by each others’ side.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you pull the heavy diamond earrings out of your ear, setting them on the cool crisp marble of your bathroom counter, rubbing at your burning earlobes. Alone in the comfort of your bathroom, you feel like you’re finally able to breathe again. And that’s when it all hits you, the gravity of what had just transpired weighing on you with the force of a heavy boulder. 

Throat closing in on itself, you struggle to breathe, doubling over as tears fill your eyes. Fingers, shaking, you fumble with the laces of your dress, until the tightness is removed from your rib cage and you can finally breathe again, the dress falling to the floor.

If Hyunjin was here, he’d help you take it off, his fingers dancing delicately across the skin of your back. He’d remove the pins from your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your head in the spot where each one of them had been, until you finally grew tired of his teasing, pulling him in to meet your lips. If Hyunjin had been here, your wedding would have been full of love and joy and laughter, the most vivid of paintings come to life. But you’d lost him, and now yourself. You were alone.

A distant clanging jolts you from your misery, and you slip into your pyjamas, softly padding out from your bathroom to see what the commotion was about. Immediately, you’re hit with the aroma of savoury garlic and herbs, stomach rumbling in response. You’d barely eaten anything the whole night, scared that whatever you tried to would just come back up due to the gnawing feeling in your gut.

It hits you that you were no longer alone in this apartment — there was another being here now, one who’d managed to crawl inside the walls that you’d kept up. Changbin had no choice but to be here with you, to see you at your most vulnerable and exposed. 

The hallway is dark as you make your way to the kitchen, pausing when you see Changbin bent over the stove, a crisp white apron around his waist. He’d changed too, clad in a comfy pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt that showcases his wide shoulders.

The grumbling of your stomach gives you away – Changbin turning to see you at the threshold, his face lighting up in a smile. You notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes, restrained and polite – like the ones that littered the billboards of New Domino, promoting the latest breakthroughs.

“Dinner is almost ready,” he assures you. “I made aglio e olio.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the Italian dish he’d mentioned — one of your favourites, but it sours when you think about how he’d probably been trained by the researchers to know your preferences. If it had been another person, maybe he would have made kimchi jigae or maqluba. It meant nothing.

“Smells great,” you manage to croak out, grateful for the hot meal. In a few moments, the table is full of two steaming plates of pasta, Changbin taking his place at the other end. You’re grateful he doesn’t try to sit next to you, allowing you to eat in piece. Silence passes, filled only with the clanging of forks, and you watch Changbin bristle in his chair. He pauses every few moments, like he wants to say something, but holds back, until you can no longer take it.

“What is it?” you spit out, uncaring at how harsh the words come across. Changbin doesn’t flinch, but you watch lights run across his arm, whirring emanating from him, like he’s trying to process your actions. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you enjoy the meal?” he asks, and you’re taken aback. You hadn’t expected such a simple, yet earnest question. You’d half-expected him to ask you to rate his skills from one to ten, like the surveys that popped up whenever you dined out at a fancy restaurant.

“It was delicious,” you refuse to lie. The pasta had quelled the burning hunger you’d felt, making you considerably less irritable, and Changbin whirs to life again, processing what you’d just told him.

You help him clean up, the two of you working in tandem to clear the table, carefully skirting around each other. Shadows dance across the wall from the city lights reflecting through the window.

Warmth emanates from Changbin, as you feel his heavy breath fan the back of your neck, startled by how life-like it actually felt. You realize you’re caged behind his arms as he puts the dried plates into the cabinet above you, the air growing thick with something you couldn’t name.

Turning around, you’re pressed against the hard planes of Changbin’s chest, and you lurch at the way your body comes to life against his, nipples peaking in the cold air. 

A light flickers at Changbin’s temple, and he studies you curiously, watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your breathing quickens.

His gaze lingers on your lips, leaning in closer. But before he can meet yours, you’re pulling away, shame and guilt in your chest. This wasn’t real. None of it was. And the sooner you learned to accept it, the less miserable both of you would be.

“I’m tired,” you whisper into thin air, turning your face away from his. “I want to go to bed.”

You swear Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment before he straightens, responding with the mechanical tone you’d expected all along.

“Of course, you must be exhausted from today.”

You falter, not knowing whether he’d follow you into your room. Now that you were married, it was expected you’d share a bed. Stepping away, you’re relieved when he doesn’t follow.

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, your mind replays everything that had happened – the fake fanfare of the wedding to Changbin asking if you were okay, to whatever had just happened now. Changbin couldn’t have wanted to kiss you, right? He lacked his own desires. Someone had probably told him that was what couples did. 

The softness of your sheets and the light streaming in from your window did nothing to quell the turmoil arising within you – your room no longer felt like the safe refuge it had once been, where you could shut out the rest of the world. 

In the silence of the night, the weight of what your life had become settled heavily on your chest. Once full of warmth and love, it was now cold and unfeeling, as clinical as the hallways of Miroh Labs. 

For a brief moment, you hear steps come towards your bedroom, before they retreat. The hallway light flickers, before it’s turned off, and you’re able to retreat into the darkness once more.

No, you’d told your parents when they’d brought up the idea. Absolutely not.

As usual, your pleading fell on deaf ears. The invites had already been accepted, your dress had been arranged, and a night filled with mindless drivel and booze chatting with the city’s elite waited for you and Changbin. 

You hated it – this pretending. At home, it was easy to accept, the way you and Changbin moved around each other, the uneasiness of that first night permeating every interaction you’d had after. But out here, in New Domino, the pretending had to happen. You had to play the part of a couple in love.

Changbin took to it easier than you’d expected. You’d nearly stumbled the moment you’d stepped out of your room, watching him turn to you with hands tucked into the pockets of yet another black tux. You briefly wondered if it was the exact same one he’d worn to the wedding – it wasn’t like there was a need for him to have different outfits, since his clothes never got dirty. 

You hoped Changbin didn’t notice your gaze lingering on just how good he managed to look – outshining even your emerald silk gown. You wait for the same from him – a falter, a nod, some sort of acknowledgment that he was just as taken by you. But it never comes, his arm slipping stiffly into yours. 

The car ride to the gala is silent, a sea of nerves and anxiety filling the space between you two. The lights from the city pass you by, illuminating Changbin’s face in a strange, yet beautiful glow. 

However, you barely acknowledge it, lost in thought while watching the cars speed by on the freeway. Before long, the glittering lights of the manor greet you, and it feels as though you’re transported back in time. As much as the upper echelon of New Domino loved their androids and their hovercrafts, nothing could replace the value of a night full of egregiously expensive liquor and brainless chatter about how far society had come, knowing they’d done little to contribute to it besides emptying their pockets.

Changbin lingers by your side, and you’re painfully aware of his scent – the one he’d chosen for tonight. Black leather and sandalwood saturate the air in between you, and you notice the stares from other guests as the two of you weave through the crowd, you in search of water to clear the pounding headache that had begun to form at your temples.

For how out of place he is, Changbin dances the dance of your peers well – meeting their fake smiles with a polished one of his own, waving and happily introducing himself to anyone that passes by.

It shouldn’t bother you that none of it directed at you – you told yourself you didn’t want his affection, that he could never give you what he desired. So why did it bother you when he stops one of the hostesses for a glass of champagne, watching her face turn sour when he swerves to hand it to you?

You down the drink before he can even blink, moving away from him and further into the throng. Your head is buzzing, and you feel the alcohol come straight back up, rushing to the bathroom when you hear it – a soft whisper, but it cut through the music like a blade.

“It’s almost amusing,” a woman says, “to see such a flawless machine with someone so... human.”

“You know what happened with her last engagement, right? Hyunjin left her for another woman…”

It’s too much to bear, bile rising in your throat, before you feel a hand on the small of your back. If Changbin was human, you’d almost expect his knuckles to turn white with the force he uses to grip your waist. 

“I suggest you keep your unwanted comments to yourself,” Changbin seethes, watching the guests turn pale. You sway under his touch, head spinning from the combination of alcohol and Changbin coming to your defense, before he’s leading you away, the crisp night air from the balcony nipping at your backs.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you gently, while you watch the same light at his temple flicker. 

None of this was okay. None of it at all. But you didn’t want to make him understand how much was wrong with you being here with him, when it should have been someone else, someone you actually had loved. 

“It’s fine,” you clear your throat, peeling his hand from your waist. His touch continues even after you’ve removed his fingers, and you shiver. 

You were used to it – the stares, the whispers. They’d followed you your whole life, the cuts left in their wake eventually turning into hardened scars. You didn’t need defending, least of all from him.

“I’m going to leave,” you tell him, stepping away. “You’re free to stay. Please don’t let me ruin your evening.” 

“I can go with you,” his voice echoes from beside you, “I was getting tired anyway.”

A sick, twisted laugh bubbles from your throat at his insistence. Changbin didn’t get tired, he couldn’t get tired. He wasn’t like you.

“Stay,” your voice is resolute. “That’s an order, Changbin.”

Changbin turns to face you, recoiling at the red rimming your eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent when the lights of the manor illuminate you from behind. 

You don’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Your paralysis slowly melts away and you’re pushing him away without realizing it, walking away without another word. You don’t dare to turn around, knowing your heart would twist when you found Changbin looking at you again with that same blank expression – the one you’d come to know all too well.

Dawn is is barely trickling when you slip out of your apartment. Passing by the living room, you notice Changbin in the corner, standing against the wall. For a moment, he looks so peaceful you would almost think he’d fallen asleep. However, you take one look at the outlet and realize he’s powered down for the night, free from his duties of following you around. A pang of annoyance rattles through you. It should have been romantic, knowing Changbin had no point to his existence if it didn’t revolve around you. All it did was made you sick to your stomach instead. 

Curling your jacket tighter around you, you duck your head down, few vehicles on the streets due to the early hour. The city seemed eerie yet peaceful at dawn, the dim rays of sun barely breaking through the clouds, casting everything in a soft orange glow. Such a stark contrast from the bright neon and gray that tinged its walls at every other time of day.

With only the sound your heels slamming against the pavement to keep you company, your walk slips into a run as your coat flies behind you, the wind whipping through your air. The city is soon left behind, tall skyscrapers giving way to modest brick houses, plumes of smoke wafting through the air.

Fire. You smile at the thought of it. Fire meant happy homes, with happy families. Families who relied on each other, who loved one another.

The haze that had clouded your head last night seems to have subsided, head clearer from the fresh air. But thoughts of Changbin cease to depart as easily, and it leaves you to wonder exactly where you stood with him.

He cared, more than an android should. For a moment it almost seemed like maybe he–

You shake the thought away, rounding the corner, shoulders immediately slumping in relief when you see the worn-out sign of the clinic.

“___?” a voice calls out to you. “Is that you?”

“Hello Jeongin,” you smile at the younger boy who bounds down the steps when he sees your figure standing outside, hair windswept and cheeks flushed as he comes to a halt next to you.

“Noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, and you feel yourself shrink underneath his sincere gaze.

“What do you mean? I always come by this time every week,” you raise an eyebrow, watching Jeongin bounce on the balls of his feet.

“But noona, you’re married now.”

You freeze at his statement, not realizing that the news had reached here too. Jeongin’s eyes are alight with excitement, and you know he’s going to ask questions that you don’t have the heart to answer.

As if he can sense your trepidation, Jeongin ushers you inside, the warm smiles of the elderly patients you’d come to know and love greeting you.

Before long, the two of you are at work, you helping them fill out their paperwork while Jeongin works to check their vitals and bring them back for the doctor to see them. All the while, you’re regaled with stories about their lives, including lost loves, mischievous grandchildren, and fond memories of a time that has since passed. 

This is why you loved coming here. It reminded you that away from the hustle of New Domino, actual life existed. Life imbued with meaningful moments, connections, and people. Something that society seemed to have forgotten. 

“You have such a beautiful smile,” one of the regulars, Miss Choi, pinches your cheek affectionately. “It’s such a shame we didn’t see it in any of your photos.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, shoulders tensing. “I guess Jeongin must have shown everyone.”

“Of course dear, you looked lovely. And such a handsome groom too!”

She titters, and you ponder about whether or not she knows the actual details of your wedding, of who Changbin really was. Even if she did, would she understand it? Even though he’d long since passed away, Miss Choi had a husband who’d loved her, who was capable of loving her. She wasn’t a victim of someone else’s greed, of their ambition. She’d never understand the kind of abyss that New Domino had become, and if she did, she’d probably be horrified. 

You pat her shoulder, hoping she can’t see the way your breath hitches, before you’re rushing to the back, curling in on yourself as sobs wrack your entire body.

Jeongin is by your side in seconds, a steady arm on your shoulder, and you lean into the younger boy, someone who despite not having spent that much time with, had become your one of your closest friends. 

“How much of it did you hear?” you mutter, looking at the floor.

“I heard enough,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry, noona.”

You don’t know how long you stay glued to Jeongin’s side, unable to stand upright, the two of you failing to notice the figure watching from outside the window. 

. . .

Changbin hadn’t meant to follow you. He’d heard you slip out in the morning, not having powered down completely last night. After what had happened at the gala, his processors had gone into overdrive, replying everything – the whispers of those awful guests, the way you leaned into his touch, to your harsh words telling him you didn’t want him around.

Changbin wonders if he’d already failed at his task – it seemed like you didn’t care for his companionship, no matter how hard he tried. The walls you had built were too high for even his sophisticated technology to penetrate, and he hums, wondering if this meant he’d be deprogrammed. 

Chan’s words from before echo in the back of his mind – what did he mean an alternative? Was there another task he could be useful for, even if you didn’t want him?

Not wanting to dwell too long, he trails a safe distance behind you, watching you break into a run, limbs heavy with fatigue, your breathing labored, until an unfamiliar neighbourhood materializes, the grandeur of luxury boutiques and high-end restaurants fading into older buildings.

Finally catching up to you, he watches you embrace a younger man, the two of you walking into a battered, broken down building together. Heat floods Changbin, his gears kicked into overdrive, struggling to make sense of what he was witnessing. Did you already have someone else? Was this Hyunjin, the one who’d left you?

The air turns crisp the longer he lingers outside the door, waiting for any sign. He gets it when he sees a leaf fall, your figure appearing in the window, hunched over like you’re in pain. The same man from before is by your side, offering you his shoulder to lean on.

Changbin doesn’t know what comes over him — he’s at the door before he can think, even rationalize what’s going on. 

He waits until your figure materializes from the back, wanting to see who the new entry was. Your lips part in a silent gasp when you see Changbin standing there.

It’s like he’s malfunctioning, gears whining and lights glinting, his jaw tense when Jeongin comes up behind you.

“Noona,” he hears the other man whisper. “I think you should go.”

You nod wordlessly, motioning for Changbin to walk with you, the two of you ignoring the many eyes that follow you, making your way down the dimly lit street.

The wind whips around him as Changbin jogs behind you, watching as you push through the crowds of passerby. You walk and walk, and he follows, watching the houses disappear behind him as you go higher and higher, eventually stopping when the road ends.

The view isn’t even comparable to the one from your penthouse – it’s even better. From the hill, he can see everything – the houses you’d passed on your way, to the bright lights of the city center, to beyond the horizon, where a mass of dense clouds covers the horizon. Which is exactly where you’re looking, and Changbin can’t help but look too, wondering what lies past their cover. 

“I used to come here with Hyunjin,” you break the silence. “Before everything fell apart.”

“We’d just sit here and look at the sky,” you continue, words crashing into each other as you rush to get them out. Changbin doesn’t know whether he should reach out for you, but decides against it, not wanting to startle your trembling figure.

“We’d look at the sky and wonder about what the future would look like — a million different scenarios. Sometimes we’d be rich, other times poor, living in the city, living out of it. But we always had each other. Until he decided to leave.”

“We should get you home–”

“Am I really that hard to love?” you blurt out, and Changbin freezes, the naked truth of why you’d been so cold finally exposed to him. 

“___, it’s not, you shouldn’t think like this–,” Changbin struggles to analyze this, something far beyond the limits of what his data sets had compiled. This was different, this grief was beyond the depths of his understanding. This yearning for something else, someone else. 

“Can you make it go away Changbin? This emptiness that lives inside me. This feeling that my life has never been mine, will never be mine?” you taunt him, knocking against his chest, scoffing when you hear the hollowness of metal.

“You can’t, can’t you? You’re just an android–”

“I’M NOT!” Changbin screams, his circuits devolving into chaos at the sharb jab of your words, Chan’s words coming back to him. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not.”

He feels sparks inside him, his words stilting as he struggles to get them out. His fingers grasp at the back of his neck, searching for the one button he knows can end this, can put him out of his misery. He doesn’t want you to see him like this.

He doesn’t even notice how close you’ve become until he feels your breath fan against his lips, like that first night.

“Prove it,” you whisper, eyes off to the side like you didn’t expect him to listen.

But he listens.

Changbin surges forward, seeking your lips, and you stumble for a brief second, thinking you’ll hurtle off the hilltop, before his arm comes up to wrap around you, your hands tangling in his hair in an instant. The wind howls around you both, yet a shiver ran down your spine, blood pounding in your ears.

His lips were softer than you’d expected, and you capture him with your teeth, drawing him in, a moan bubbling up in your chest. 

He feels so real. This felt so real. 

Changbin can hardly think either, kicked into overdrive, the feel of your hungry mouth against his, the fervent swipe of his tongue against your lips. You knew this was a bad idea, that it would complicate everything, but you didn’t have it in you to care, hands roaming everywhere, slipping  underneath the hem of Changbin’s shirt to trace circles against his hard stomach.

A strangled sound escapes Changbin’s throat, and the two of you part, flustered and trembling, Changbin resting his forehead to yours. Your fingers card through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he moves again, roving down your jawline, lapping at your skin. Despite it being freezing out, a thin trail of sweat trickles down your neck, and Changbin doesn’t miss the opportunity to taste you, teeth grazing as he goes.

“Let me show you,” he rumbles into your chest, voice raspy from the lack of air. 

The cold metal of the railing juts against your back as Changbin lunges, his arm locking you into place. Your cry of protest turns into a gasp when he nudges a knee in between your thighs, spreading them apart. 

“God, just fucking touch me already,” you seethe, gasping when he thumbs at your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, the swollen peaks stiffening when he tugs them with his fingers.

An ache begins to build between your thighs when you look into Changbin’s eyes, their laser-like focus on you and you only, and that’s when his fingers slip underneath your skirt and straight to where you need him. 

“Say please,” he whispers, and for a moment, you imagine the same desperation in his tone that colours yours.

Even when you don’t say anything, he knows from the tremble of your lips and the slight nod of your head that you want this. 

The moment he swipes his fingers against your core, Changbin curses, palm meeting the furious grinding of your hips.

Your hands ball into fists, feeling the slick leak out of you, and you whine, a warm flush settling over your body, evidence of its betrayal.  

“Pretend all you want,” Changbin hisses. “Pretend you hate me. Pretend you don’t see me. But we both know you want this.”

You try to hold your resolve, your wet cunt leaking even more, walls fluttering around his fingers. One wrong move and you’d go hurtling over the railing. But Changbin’s grip on you is like a vice, which only makes you squeeze harder around his knee. 

He changes his pace, circling faster, harder, and your head goes hazy from the stimulation, your hands grabbing fistfuls of Changbin’s shirt. When you feel yourself teetering on the brink, body flushing with anticipation, it all stops. 

Panting, you look at Changbin, his dark eyes surveying you hungrily, and you hear the clink of his belt, quivering as you try and spare yourself from being utterly wrecked by the sight of his cock.

“Look. at. me,” he grabs your chin and turns your head towards him, your eyes fluttering from the delirium of it all.

Gripping your thighs, he sinks you down onto him. You cry out as the initial pain subsides and you feel his hips snap up into you, pubic bone rolling against your clit.

“Changbin, I, shit-, it’s too much!” you plead, shamelessly rocking aginst him as he sets a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathy moans echoing bouncing from the walls.

Changbin says nothing, planting a messy kiss on your lips, prodding his tongue into the seam of your mouth to taste, and you anchor your palms against the railing, allowing him to roll his hips upward, the two of you moving in tandem.

The fire in your abdomen reaches a peak, a new wave of arousal suddenly washing over you as you feel your hips jerk, coming undone as you collapse against Changbin, stifling a groan against his throat.

Lifting you off of the railing, Changbin’s arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel something wet against the side of your face. Tears.

“Changbin–”

You wobble to your feet, head swirling with emotion, but he’s already pulling away, the faint outline of his figure the only thing you see as he heads off into the night.

Sighing, you pull your glasses down onto your face, hoping they can diguise the fact that despite your best efforts, your night was absolutely restless, swimming with thoughts of Changbin.

After leaving you on the hilltop, he’d vanished, leaving you to make your own way home. And now, not even a day later, your parents had decided to add to your headache by summoning you for a board meeting. 

You expected them to ask for updates on your relationship with Changbin, to pry into your life, pretending like they cared. It was what they’d always done.

But you never expected this.

“I–, I don’t understand,” you gnaw at your lip, biting down so hard the skin may break. In front of you, the powerpoint gleams brightly. You can read the words off the slide, but you struggle to actually process them. And what they mean.

The beta testing was successful. Although people responded rather tepidly at first to the idea of a human-android relationship, we’ve gotten more positive feedback and requests to expand than ever. We’re on the verge of a new breakthrough here at Miroh Labs. And we want you to take charge of it. 

Your father’s words have been echoing ceaslessly in the back of your mind, ever since he uttered them the moment you walked in.

The news has you deeply unsettled. You’d thought that this was some kind of social experiment, that you and Changbin were some freaks of nature, two outcasts in society brought together as a spectacle for others. You’d never anticipated it would come to this. 

Miroh Labs wasn’t just looking to change the future of human-android relationships. No your parents twisted plan took it a step further – they sought to create models beyond Changbin’s capabilities as a companion, ones who would be equipped with the ability to reproduce. 

We’d never have to worry about birth rates or a weak genetic pool again.

Looking out the window, you look out onto New Domino, the blueprints reflecting onto the screen, clashing with the holographic displays outside, a stark contrast to the storm that was brewing inside the boardroom. 

Face illuminated by the blue glow of the screens, your breath comes out in short, uneven bursts. Your mother reaches out, watching your handles tremble, but you yank them away before she can clasp them in hers,

“Don’t touch me!” you hiss. “Was this all a fucking joke to you? Playing with my life, my emotions, so you could turn me into some kind of laughingstock for whatever sick idea you had?”

Standing up, you clutch the the documents to your chest.

“I’m done,” you declare. If you’d asked seven years ago, maybe you would’ve have done it, so desparate to please everyone around you that you’d say yes to whatever came your way. But now you knew better than to trust anyone. It’d only end up in heartbreak, and you refused to be a part of this sick and twisted legacy. 

You needed to talk to Changbin. 

. . . 

The soft thud of shoes at the entryway feels louder than ever, knowing that you’ve been lying on your bed for the past eight hours, willing the tears to stop. But they never did.

Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you prod your aching limbs to get up, soreness flooding your entire body when you stand. Padding softly out into the hallway, you gasp when you see Changbin there, standing solemnly against the window.

He knows you from even the quietest sound, head turning when you come up behind him. There was so much you had to talk about, so much to address. But you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

You reach behind you to grab the papers you’d stolen,and Changbin’s eyes widen with surprise when you push them in his direction, confusion marring his handsome face. 

The two of you stand there while he reads, a multitude of moments passing in silence.

“I don’t get it,” he protests. “This seems like a logical progression. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“You don’t get it, do you Changbin?,” you declare firmly, doing your best to overcome the wobble in your voice. “This changes everything.”

You hear Changbin whir, temple lighting up with red, and for a moment, all there is to fill the silence is the sound of clicking and beeping. Was this it? Had Changbin finally reached his limits.

You’d been thinking about this for hours, about how to tell Changbin, how to break the news to him. You had no idea where you stood without, about how he felt after what’d you’d both shared at the lookout. And despite the thousands of theorized and calculated ways you’d thought of in your head, telling you that this didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t hurt him, you still choke back a sob.

“Don’t you understand? They want to change everything, to alter what it even means to be human? If an android can reproduce with a human, then what’s the point of marriage? What’s the point of falling in love? It all just becomes a stupid commodity, a race to see who can pop out babies the fastest, who can engineer the most perfect spawn. All the meaning from life as we know will be gone.”

Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment, hurt and confusion settling on his face.

“What are you saying ___? Look at me. Please.” 

The words come out in a desperate whine, Changbin lifting your face up to his, searching your eyes for a spark of emotion, but all he finds are hollow pools of emptiness.

You take a moment to respond, knowing that what you have to say will be the end of this, will probably drive a stake through the farce that had been your marriage.  

“You’ll never understand Changbin. You can simulate every single emotion and fulfill every task. Hell, even if they upgrade you and you’re somehow able to reproduce, you just won’t get it. Because you don’t know what real love is like; all you know is the substitute. And it will never be enough.”

“This isn’t fair,” Changbin chokes out, recoiling. “All I have ever done is my best. All I can ever do is my best. Why is that not enough?”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him, tears blurring your vision. “I wish it was.”

“A-are you going to deprogram me?” Changbin hums, and all of a sudden, his sensors go haywire, every single one lighting up and blinking until they devolve into chaos. Your heart lurches seeing him like this, reaching out for him, but he slaps your arm away.

“Do you know what the worst part of this is ___? It’s not you, or whatever you think you feel. Because you’ve never fucking known what you wanted. No, it’s that, for one fucking night, you had me convinced. Convinced that I was something more than just a hunk of scrap metal to you. Convinced that there was some sick, twisted part of me that actually thought you could love me.  But I don’t want you to lie to yourself anymore. I want to leave.”

You don’t say a word to him as he pads out of the kitchen, slipping his coat over his shoulders and tying his shoes. 

As he slips out the door, you hears his voice, so quiet that you’re almost not convinced it’s real.

“Forgive me.”

The moon shines on the dark streets, it’s gentle light almost swallowed by their neon glow. Changbin runs, heart pounding in sync with his frantic steps. 

Taking in a deep breath, he watches the city melt away again, the night air becoming colder, heavier with the fog of polluted smoke, until he’s there again. The hilltop. Looking out onto the city, he marvels at how it had once been a place full of so much intensity, maybe even love. He thinks back to the feeling of your lips on his, to the way you’d gasped his name. But now he feels nothing but emptiness. 

Maybe he deserved that emptiness. Maybe you were right, maybe he could never be more than what he was – an automated program. Maybe it was better that he’d never see you smile again, never get to watch you hum contentedly when you took a bite of food that you loved, that he’d never ever have the chance to even say that he loved you. Because he wanted to, not because he had to. 

“Changbin?” a voice calls out to him. “Is that you?”

Turning, he watches as the lithe figure of Chan comes into view, face furrowed in confusion at the sight of an android wandering alone on the streets. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, and Changbin feels himself shrink, embarrassment cutting deep into him like a knife.

“I had to leave,” he feels himself heat, drive replaying the memories of his last conversation with you. “I had to go, I didn’t know what else to do–”

Changbin clenches his jaw, body tense as he fears Chan’s response, wondering if the other man will laugh at his stupidity. 

Androids don’t get choices. 

Surprisingly, the look on his face is one of understanding. Chan motions for Changbin to follow him, the two of them heading out into the lonely night.

. . . 

The flickering lights of a warehouse come into view, casting long shadows on the ground. Changbin turns to Chan, body going rigid, and the lights cast an eerie glow on Chan’s face, the other half bathed in the darkness.

Stepping through the door, he’s surprised to find it more cosy than industrial, a clean, fresh scent overtaking his senses, one that reminded him of your apartment. It smelled like home. Something that Changbin was unsure he’d ever find. 

“Come sit here, Changbin,” Chan motions to a sofa. “Now do you want to tell me what you were doing roaming around at night like that?”

“You told me once that if I decided this life wasn’t what I wanted, that if I wanted to be more than an android, there was a way out. Is that still true?” Changbin’s words sound hollow to his own ears, and he watches Chan flinch in surprise.

“You’ve heard about the project.”

Chan bristles, reaching over to wrap an arm around Changbin, pulling him into a hug, and Changbin collapses against his shoulder. He was so tired.

“It’s not about the project,” Changbin mumbles into Chan’s shoulder, and Chan pushes him away gently. If he wasn’t mistaken, Chan could almost imagine Changbin’s eyes glimmering with tears. “It’s ___.”

Changbin can’t stop the words from spilling out, and he tells Chan everything. Everything from how cold you’ve been, to those little moments of warmth he’d come to live for, ones where your exterior of ice melted into something kinder, more gentle. He tells him about that night the two of you had shared, the one where your walls had come crashing down. And how he desperately wanted them to keep coming down for him every single day. He didn’t know whether or not he was capable of love, but he wanted it with you. And yet, you didn’t feel the same. You told him you couldn’t. 

Chan listens to it all, and without saying anything, stands up. Changbin looks at him despondently, wondering if he’d just made a fool of himself, but Chan motions to one of the doors, telling Changbin softly that he’ll be right back.

A few tense moments pass, and Changbin wonders if he’s been abandoned. But then Chan comes back, and he’s not alone. With him is another person, slightly shorter. His long, brown hair curls around the base of his neck, chubby cheeks wide in a huge heart-shaped smile. If Changbin didn’t see his hazel eyes, he would have also assumed that he was human, just like Chan.

Another android.

“Hello, I’m Jisung.”

Changbin’s eyes widen at Jisung in front of him, wondering what someone like him was doing here on the outskirts, where most people were too poor to own an android.

“Jisung used to be a domestic android,” Chan explains. “He worked for a family in New Domino that wasn’t very kind to him.”

“They took advantage of me,” Jisung has a far-off look in his eyes. “In many different ways. But that’s why I ran. Chan-hyung found me in a coffee-shop one day and brought me back to live with him.”

“How did you, I mean, how could you just leave like that? People need you,” Changbin is perplexed at the sight in front of him. 

“Do they really?” Jisung counters. “Think about it, Changbin, what do they need us for? To make their lives easier? So they can sit back and reject every sense of responsibility they have towards others? The system we have is so flawed, and there’s so many others out there like me and you who suffer because of it.”

Chan nods his head in agreement. 

“Why should you and Jisung have to pay the price for the mistakes of others? Why are you left questioning your identity, your own existence? You could be so much more in society than an end for other people’s satisfaction.”

“I make music now,” Jisung has a soft smile on his face. “Chan-hyung showed me how to use a production software, and now, I can go out to shops, walk around the neighbourhood, and use that inspiration for something beautiful. It’s not much, but it’s better than what I had to live for before.”

“Aren’t you scared, though? Of being deprogrammed, of being replaced?” Changbin can’t help the question from spilling out, his mind flashing back to how you had Hyunjin before him, and how easily you leaned into Jeongin, the employee at the clinic. Who was he compared to them?

“Life is so much more than living in fear, Changbin,” Jisung tells him. “If you just take a chance, maybe you can see that.”

And Changbin wants to believe him, to believe that he can leave this all behind, to start over again. But that would also mean leaving you behind, and that’s something he’s not sure he live with.

As if he can sense Changbin’s trepidation, Chan lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder again.

“You’re smarter than you think, Changbin. You’ll figure things out.”

You stare up at the ugly popcorn ceiling of the gallery. For being a space dedicated to showcasing the beauty of art, it paled in comparison to its inhabitants, cold concrete floors along with walls filled with cracks and peeling paint.

It has to be that way. Otherwise, would you even focus on the art?

The words bring a soft smile to your lips when you think of the last time you’d heard them. They ring true when you look at the painting in front of you – bold, dark colours interspersed with flecks of white. You get what the artist was trying to go for - the brightness of snow gleaming against a hillside, the snowflakes tiny pearls of brightness against the inky black backdrop of the night sky.

Lost in your study of the piece, you fail to notice the footsteps behind you, only turning when you feel a shadow loom over you.

“That one’s new,” Hyunjin says, coming to stand next to you. “Me and Yuna went to Interlaken last winter, you know I had to paint it.”

You bristle at his voice, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in your chest. You’d always imagined this, meeting him again. What you’d say, what you’d do. Somehow, your dreams always ended with him taking you back. But now, that no longer felt right. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” you breathe out, realizing how stupid it sounds. Hyunjin literally worked there.

“I heard about the wedding. Congratulations.”

“Nothing to congratulate me for.”

“___,” Hyunjin croaks, and you stiffen at your name tumbling from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

There was a lot Hyunjin had to apologize for – leaving you suddenly, ending years of a relationship in one single moment, only for him to turn around and marry your best friend months later. A friend you no longer spoke to.

But it all seemed trivial now – it seemed like the past had consumed you, your demons chasing and chasing until they’d cornered you, leaving you with nowhere to run, no one to to turn to.

You’d had Changbin, and now he was gone. And you were alone, like you were always mean to be.

Your lips purse into a straight line, giving no indication that you accept Hyunjin’s apology.

“___ please, I know I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. I know it’s unforgivable. But please, you have to move on. You deserve to be loved. To have love.”

You’re unsure how much Hyunjin knows about you, or even Changbin, but the bitter regret in the his voice tells you that you weren’t the only one with wounds who’d been festering for longer than they should’ve.

“It feels like I’m trapped,” you finally admit out loud. “I’m trapped and there’s this lead weight that’s crushing me, and I can’t think, I can’t feel, I can’t even breathe— god, I just want to breathe, Hyun. And I lost the one person that was my chance to live again.” The words come out as sobs, Hyunjin raising a concerned eyebrow, and you shake your head, dismissing his suspicions.

“You care about him. The android.”

“Don’t call him that. He has a name.” 

You bite your tongue at the grating response, mouth filling with the taste of blood. Changbin’s words from that night echo in your brain – I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.

He wasn’t. 

Hyunjin sees the heat rush to your face when you mention him, the way your entire being changes – your once despondent body coming alive with emotion. And he knows that what you felt for him will never compare to now. Fate had steered you on opposite courses, your destiny intertwined with Changbin’s, his with Yuna’s. 

“You know what you have to do then,” are his last words to you before you hear his boots tap against the cold concrete, walking away.

. . . .

The abandoned railway station lay forgotten at the edge of the city, a silent witness to years of decay. The iron tracks were tangled in weeds, and the once-bustling platform was now a graveyard of rusted metal and cracked concrete. The setting sun cast long, melancholic shadows, painting the scene in shades of orange and gray.

Changbin feels the cold metal of the bench against his back, and cards his fingers through his hair. He wonders if the disheveled strands, or the stains and threabare seams of his clothes, make him look more real. More human. 

Holding the flyer in his hands, he stares at the face on it, in disbelief that it was once his face. So composed, so put together. So much had changed since then.

Finding Jisung and Chan had been a blessing, but it wasn’t enough. The emptiness remained, filled with thoughts of you, and he wonders if he’ll ever see you again. Whether you even thought of him. 

The hum of an approaching vehicle broke the oppressive silence. Changbin’s head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw headlights cutting through the dusk. 

They’d found him. He had to run.

Miroh Labs had always been a prison – your prison. A cold, glowing fortress against the backdrop of New Domino, a place once full of so much promise. The place where you thought you’d prove yourself. But now it was time to let it go. 

Chan is waiting for you at the entrance, lips parted in surprise when he sees you approaching. You don’t blame him for thinking that you’d bail. The plan had come together in mere hours, chaos unfolding the moment you’d returned to your apartment, going through every paper, every file as to how you could set your plan in motion.

Somehow, Chan seemed like a person you could trust. You briefly remember Changbin mentioning how Chan had been the first one to see him, shocked at how many of the little details about his presence you’d actually committed to memory.

It scared you, putting your heart and life on the line like this. But it had to be worth it – for the chance to live again, to love again.

“You ready for this?” Chan asked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your mess of emotions. His eyes glinted curiously in against the backdrop of darkness. voice steady and reassuring.

You nodded, full of determination. It was now or never.

“I am. I’ll take care of the security systems. You get to the servers.”

Chan gives a quick nod, before disappearing into the building.

You freeze, realizing you should have asked Chan if he knew anything about Changbin, where he was, what he was doing. You just had to hope this worked, and that you would be able to later. That was the only way.

The maze of the building is one you slip through easily, the long, dark hallways familiar to you from years of roaming around. You knew every door, where every secret was hidden. And how to shut it all down.

Fingers dancing across the keypad, you find the one you’re looking for. Booting up the system, the lights from the screens bathe the room in an eerie glow, and you begin to type.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered to yourself, eyes darting between the screen and the shadows outside. “Almost there…”

Your phone pings to life with a text — shoulders sagging with relief when you see it’s from Chan.

At the servers. Starting data extraction now.

You shoot a reply back quickly – two mins and i’ll initiate the shutdown sequence.

The two minutes pass by in agony, heart pounding out of your chest at the feeling that you could be caught at any time, that this could end.

The lab’s lights began to flicker and dim, casting an eerie glow over the deserted corridors. It worked.

You tiptoe silently out of the room, breaking into a run when you hear the sirens. You run and you run until you’re far enough away, Chan waiting for you a few blocks away.

“We did it,” he smiles, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “We got what we needed.”

He pauses when he sees you tremble, sobs wracking your entire body. You don’t know why the tears started, but they refused to stop when you think about everything – about how you’d just destroyed your family’s entire future, about how you were free, about Changbin.

His name slips from your lips without even thinking, and Chan freezes. 

You hold your breath momentarily, waiting for the bad news to come. But all Chan does is let out a deep sigh of relief, the corners of his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Come with me.”

When Changbin wakes, it’s like the first time all over again. Senses assaulted by a bright light, fear strikes him in the worst way possible. How long had it been since he powered down? Weeks? Months? Had he been captured? Was this the end?

His systems go haywire with the possibilities, until he feels something. A breeze, ruffling his hair. He was outside. 

The abandoned train station materializes amidst the fog of his muddled senses, his fingertips coming away with rust when he brushes them against the old, dilapidated bench. Relief washes over him. He was okay. He’d live another day.

The crunching of gravel startles him from his reverie, and he feels someone plop down next to him on the bench.

Turning to meet his company, he nearly short-circuits when he sees you, face illuminated by the sun’s rays. You’re smiling. At him. 

Changbin tries to form a coherent thought, but everything is jumbled and clunky. The sun. The air. You. You. You.

You offer him something, and he pales when he sees it, an earbud extended to him.

“I need you to listen to something,” you say softly, and his hands shake as he accepts it, watching you hit play.

The first few melodious notes ring in his ears, and a shiver goes down his spine when he realizes what you’d chosen to show him.

Like a streetlight, like a streetlight

At the end of a lonely day, standing vacantly

In the middle of the lonely night, I try my best to smile brightly

It was the song he’d been working on with Jisung and Chan, the first thing he’d had of his own. The first step he’d taken to becoming himself, to becoming just Changbin. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the music, a tear slipping out at the last few notes, when he feels the weight of your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Changbin,” you sigh, voice wavering, whisper so low he can barely hear it among the reverberations of the final note.

“I want to fix this,” you say again, more resolutely this time, turning so his forehead meets yours. And you feel the dam break, tears flooding both of you as you collapse against each other.

“Wherever you’re going, I want to come with you. I want to show you that you’re more than enough. Because you showed me the same. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

Changbin nods, his tears mingling with a smile of hope. 

“The song. It’s for you. It’s for us. For what we had and what we can still have. I can prove it to you.”

“You don’t need to prove anything, Changbin. You’ve done enough.”

And he had. Somehow, despite having no heart of his own, he’d managed to re-start yours, to show you that you didn’t have to live in the city’s shadows, under the iron grip of your past. That you could be more.

Hope fills your chest – it’s bright and vivid, the force of your love for Changbin knocking you back like a supernova.

Changbin’s fingers brush away the tears on your cheek, shining in the sunlight, and his gaze drops to your lips. You don’t know who leans in first, the next thing you feel being the soft press of his lips to yours. The skin is slightly chapped, but you melt into his touch anyway.

Soon the kiss becomes heated, the roughness of Changbin’s jeans dragging against your thighs as you push yourself onto his lap, prodding the seam of his lips with your tongue. 

Here with Changbin, you realize you’d never really been weak at all. Neither of you had. Not like the world saw both of you. 

Resonance. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – the ability that you and Changbin now possessed to know whatever the world threw at you, wherever it took you next, you’d come out of it choosing each other every time.  

a/n pt. 2: they are totally fucking after this btw (i don't make the rules)! all jokes aside, I'm so sorry if this sucks. I genuinely haven't written anything plot driven in over 8 months so I know there was a lot more I could have done and improved on. If you read this, thank you for giving it (and me) a chance. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

tagging: @jellyleggz