#they will have burned out their most powerful member too soon

[andromeda3116]

rereading order of the stick (again), and greyiew is only in a few comics so far but man do i love this nihilistic wolf

[oceantornadoo]

quiet hours (john price x f!reader)

there is a power dynamic but it’s discussed, price is a major simp, some time jumps

—

price’s office couch. a brown and beaten thing, a comfortable touch on the side of his desk. john himself had never used it, but kept it from the office’s last occupant, a buffer in case someone tried to cross over to his side of the room. that was, of course, before you.

it started when your leg was injured. he let you prop up your leg on the couch and somewhere during the twenty minute mark of your conversation, you fell asleep. any other solider and john would have reprimanded them, tossed them out, but you looked so peaceful, soft lips parted slightly. he left you a note, come back anytime, not wanting to risk the sting of rejection to his face.

it became your ritual. you didn’t sleep well at night but as a high ranking SAS member, you had some freedom in your daily schedule for occasional naps. he liked hearing your soft sighs as he worked, going so far as to keep a silk pillow for you when he heard you complain about your hair on leather. you chatted or you didn’t, always leaving with a small smile and “thanks, cap.”

even the rest of base knew 3-5pm were quiet hours, a small sign posted on his door. the couch wasn’t big and with the angle of the door, most people didn’t even realize you were in there when they popped in to ask a question. john guarded you like a dragon with his jewels, chewing out recruits for being too loud, never explaining your presence to anyone.

right now, you were sound asleep, your small sighs like john’s personal soundtrack to heaven. simon had knocked silently, asking some important question about an upcoming mission, and john huffed with annoyance knowing he had to leave you. he got out of his chair, carefully so it wouldn’t squeak, and made his way over to you. squatting down, he rubbed a gentle hand over your face, tracing your relaxed cheekbones and brow. “sweetheart, i have t’ go. be back in few.” you whimpered, eyes fluttering, half drunk on sleep. “you’re leaving?” he shook his head, leaning in so his forehead touched your own. his hand slid towards your neck and brought you closer, practically a kiss. the comfort of it was delicious and you let out a contented sigh. “jus’ for a bit. go back to sleep, bub.” he peeled back, evaluating what kind of captain he was. apparently not a very good one as he kissed your forehead before getting up, the skin on skin contact rushing through his bones like electricity.

simon was waiting patiently outside, his relaxed look menacing to the passing recruits. he fell into step with price easily, walking towards their favored meeting spot. “tellin’ her soon?” john shook his head, dragging an exhausted hand down his face. tell you what? that you were strong and lovely and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen, on and off the battlefield? that the only way he slept at night was imagining your own sleepy sighs? that for some idiotic reason, there was a ring burning a hole in his sock dresser? “too soon, lieutenant.” simon huffed, the glint of a smirk under his mask. “been half a year, cap. jus’ sayin’.” john fought the urge to run back to his office, to make sure no one bothered you. “she’s just sleepin’ there, nothin’ special.” simon side eyed him, noting the stress lines and crow’s feet on his captain’s face. “i’ll tell johnny ‘s nothin’ special then. heard he’s interested.”

john prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. it was one of the revered traits of his captain position, the glue to the team. in that moment however, stopped mid stride at his lieutenant’s words, shoulders bunching and fists tightening, he wanted to kill half his team. “you will do no such thing, lieutenant. that’s an order.” simon clapped him on the shoulder with his short barking laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes. “roger that.”

—

“i don’t know gaz, do you really think he likes me?” gaz had popped in to price’s for a question but you were there instead, half awake and confused. he liked the couch too, tucking himself at the far end and pulling your socked feet into his lap. “‘ve never seen cap let anyone else sleep here. if that’s not a sign, don’t know what is.” you rolled your eyes, keeping them on the ceiling. “well i’ve been sleeping here almost six months and got a forehead kiss to show for it.” gaz froze, his hands stilling on your ankle. “you’re takin’ the piss.” as if. “am not! happened fifteen minutes ago and i’ve been overanalyzing it since.” gaz tried to reason how two of the smartest people he knew were such idiots. “darling, you’re practically married now. i’ve never seen-“ the door swung open, john’s strides minutely faltering when he saw gaz on the couch. “back to work, garrick. close the door behind you.” gaz acknowledged him with a nod and suddenly price was in his place, drawing your feet on the top of his legs.

“everyone wants a piece of you, don’t they?” it was nonsensical, what he murmured, almost to himself. you pressed your feet into his thigh until he got the memo, strong hands circling your ankles and pulling them into his lap. “what do you mean, cap? gaz was just visiting.” he hummed a non reply, fingers tracing the scar of where your foot injury used to be. “this all better?” your brows furrowed at the change in topic, nodding your head on instinct. “right as rain, sir.” his thumb, callused and strong, was pressing into your ankle now. it was like john was in a trance, fully focused on your worn socks, refusing to look at your face. “how long have you been sleepin’ here with a perfectly fine foot, sergeant?” your mouth dropped, confusion clouding your brain. “i- bout four months, sir. i sleep better here than my own bed.” he finally turned his head, his dark blue gaze searing into you. “why’s that?” it was barely loud enough for you to hear it, croaked out with a herculean effort. “because you’re here. i don’t, don’t really know why. you’re comforting and safe and smell nice…” you trailed off at the last bit, cheeks warming in embarrassment.

john tucked himself in and laughed, the air from his lungs brushing over your ankles. you answered with a small giggle, still unsure about your blunder. “whole time it was my smell keepin’ you here. way to kill a man’s ego, sweetheart.” you grinned, sitting up on your elbows. you pressed your foot into the side of his face, forcing him to look at you instead of his lap. “it’s you, john. keeping me here.” the temperature dropped, his ministrations froze. all you did was look, your eyes wide and pleading. begging him to just see, see why you kept coming back like his own personal lapdog.

you were moving, john tugging you closer by the ankles, strong hands moving up your calves until the rest of you was right there. he fixed the awkward angle by leaning down, one hand propped near your head, the other coming down to stroke your cheek. “say it’s true.” his eyes were still searching for something, so rare for you to see your captain look so unsure. “this couch isn’t even that comfortable so trust me, it’s true.” you had hoped humor would lighten the situation but your murmured truth made the air heavier, your heaving chest almost touching his own. “i’m too old for you.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re like four years older, get a grip.” he pinched your cheek, muttering cheeky under his breath. “i’m your captain.” your own hand came up on instinct, fingers finally touching the beard you dreamed about. the strands were soft but slightly scratchy, like he had a routine he occasionally forgot. “you’re john price. anyone who knows you knows that you won’t give me special treatment. i’ll run extra laps everyday.” your fingers were exploring now, thumb running down the bridge of his nose to the top of his lips. you both shuffled without realizing, your legs on either side of his torso, cradling his hips. his forearms bracketed your face, caging you in.

“i don’t love lightly. no friends with benefits or any of that bullshit.” you drew him in closer, one foot on his lower back until your pelvises kissed. “good. i want a man who can commit.” whatever he had been looking for, he found in your wide eyed gaze. “i’m…out of excuses.”

the kiss wiped out john’s memory of any kiss before it. it was slow and possessive, a claiming. six months of you just out of his reach would drive any man to this point, john reasoned. that’s why he took his time, exploring every angle and pressure point, searching for those breathy sighs you always made. he didn’t have to do much - one nip of the lip and you were singing for him, melting into his arms. you wrapped them around his neck, pulling him deeper. by this time next year, i’m proposing. john let the thought grow wings and fly, content to explore your touch as he wondered about white wedding cake and matching rings.

—

years later, no matter how you both decided to decorate your new house together, he insisted on a brown couch for his office. something hideous and comfortable, not matching the decor at all. something just for the two of you.

- -

price intimacy brainrot (i’m PMSing)

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: King Aegon keeps his word and uses his power as the king to get what he desires. His decision flips (Y/N)'s world on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mild slutshaming, implied homophobia (the Faith), mentions of child exploitation/abuse, mentions/implications of sexual and physical abuse toward sex workers, mentions of child/teen-adult relationships, takes place in S2 and while it doesn't follow the latest episodes as of currently beware of spoilers

These warnings keep getting longer and longer 😮‍💨

Divider from @targaryen-dynasty!

~~~

The members of the Small Council rose to their feet when Aegon strode into the room; uneasy glances and frowns being exchanged when they took in the skip in his step and the wide smile dangling from his lips. He had something in mind, something that most certainly wouldn't do them any good if it came from Aegon Targaryen of all people. 

"Good morrow," Aegon greeted them, setting his hands over the armrests of his chair and settling down comfortably at the end of the table. The council members tentatively sat down, dipping their heads in greeting and exchanging more glances. He raised his hand when Lord Jasper went to speak, effectively silencing the man. "Before we begin, I'd like to bring up the subject of taking an official paramour. These last few days have been... hard, to say the least, but I believe my pain has been soothed."

"Your Grace," Alicent began, her eyes fluttering shut in exasperation and chest falling with a heavy sigh. "I believe it's far too soon to be taking a mistress, much less the proper time with war brewing on the horizon. You are without an heir for the moment, so I understand the desire to-" 

"This is hardly about heirs or children, Mother." Aegon cut in swiftly, his back pressing against the chair and jaw ticking with a smidge of annoyance. "I want this. I will have this, one way or another. I am merely... informing you all." 

Clearing his throat, Maester Orwyle regarded his king with a small smile. "Perhaps knowing the name of your lover will soothe worries, Your Grace. Does she reside in the Red Keep? What house is she from? We certainly wouldn't want to bring any offense to her family during this time. Many fathers are oft' protective of their daughters and would find it insulting for one to become a mere mistress." 

"You're in luck then," Aegon grinned widely, his thumb rubbing against one of the many rings adorning his fingers. He took in the perplexed and curious looks on each of their faces, savoring their undivided attention. He swiped his tongue over his lips and reached forward toward his goblet, tilting it toward the cupbearer and listening to the heavenly sound of wine being poured. "For my lover and future paramour does not come from any noble family." He couldn't help but giggle, taking a sip from his wine. "He comes from the Street of Silk." 

Silence followed his revelation, each of the council members staring at him in complete and utter shock. His mother moved first, her folded hands unlacing so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips rolling into her mouth to prevent any unsavory words from spilling out. Lord Jasper reached for his goblet next, drinking every last drink in it and motioning for some more while Maester Orwyle and Lord Tyland blinked at him in astonishment. 

"Y-Your Grace," Maester Orwyle stuttered, "The Faith of the Seven views the act of-"

"The Faith views incest, bastardy, and prostitution sins as well, Grand Maester. Yet many of the men sitting at this very table are guilty of at least one of these things. Besides, I am of Targaryen blood and I am the King of Westeros, am I not? My grandsire King Jaehaerys put a law in place exempting those with Valryian blood from being judged, did he not?"

Aegon's smile shifted from genuine into a more daring one, his eyes burning into those of Maester Orwyle and any other council members who felt bold enough to look in his direction. "My word is law."

Alicent's eyes fluttered open and she leaned back in her chair, casting a glance at the rest of the council members. "Think of what you are asking-"

"I've made my decision, Mother." Aegon interrupted once more, smirking at the way she clenched her jaw, and turned his head to study his newest Hand, Ser Criston. The knight straightened up, ever so loyal, and Aegon smiled brightly. Finally, someone who wouldn't object. "I have some orders for you, Ser Criston."

Digging his teeth into the warm loaf of bread he'd been given, (Y/N) walked along the gravelly, muddy road in the direction of the Street of Silk. His breakfast had been a gift from a patron who frequented the brothel, one of the few good things of working where he did. Lavish gifts were expected from nobles who could afford whatever they desired, though they more often than not merely dressed their favorite workers up like little dolls.

The smallfolk could hardly compare but they provided the more necessary gifts; food, drinks, materials. It hardly had anything to do with genuine love or care, and more so the simple desire of holding the gift over his head, but (Y/N) would never be in a position to ignore free food.

Madam Sylvi had long stopped providing him with anything other than a place to bathe and sleep, claiming he was no longer a babe and had to provide for himself just as the rest of the smallfolk. She was a good madam, better than most brothel owners, and she tried to take care of all the women and men she took under her wing, but she couldn't be everywhere at once; and she couldn't kick out every patron that grew bolder or more sadistic. 

His eyes dragged away from the light gray clouds rolling overhead as he stepped into the Street of Silk, the sound of pleasure and music filling his ears from brothels accepting patrons. Eager men bustled up and down the street, jeering at those lingering by their respective brothels in hopes of enticing one to come inside. But still, things seemed more oddly quiet than usual, (Y/N) noted, and he soon realized why when he noticed the elegant carriage waiting outside of Madam Sylvi's brothel. 

Ripping the bread in his hand apart, he tossed one piece toward the child sitting in an alleyway, his ribs visibly showing throw his thin layer of dirty, ripped clothes. The child sprang to his feet and dug eagerly into the bread, his eyes lighting up with newfound life.

As (Y/N) shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and quickened his step, he hoped one act of kindness would spare him later. He swallowed down the food, throat itching for water, and stopped by the large double doors where a fellow brothel worker stood by.

His lips parted to question her on the carriage but he winced when he noticed the darkening bruise on her cheek, staring near the corner of her lip and ending near her eye. Hardly seemed like an accident. Alise brushed her fingers over the purple skin, her dark eyes slightly watering and her nose scrunching up in pain.

"Was it Felir again?" He asked instead with a gentle sigh, taking a step toward her and sweeping back some of her blonde hair. 

"Always is." She responded with a sigh of her own, dropping her hand down toward her chest where her dress plunged enough to show most of her cleavage, finger hooking to drag it down even further. "He pays too well to be thrown out, though. I hear he's grown tired of his new wife now that she's grown heavy with child. I'm certain we'll be seeing him around more often when the babe comes."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." Alise dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Be thankful he has no interest in boys, otherwise he'd do a whole lot more than what the Targaryen's done to your neck." She reached out to push back the hood of his cloak and dragged her fingertips over the markings on his throat, an amused grin forming on her face until she winced and touched her cheek again. 

"You should rest." (Y/N) told her, giving her arm a delicate squeeze before he pushed open one of the large wooden doors leading into the brothel. The air still reeked of smoke, sweat, and drinks despite the open window but most of the brothel had been cleaned up and ready for another round of patrons. He and the others would be given a chance to rest and eat, although when he spotted the two men in their shining silver armor and long white cloaks, he suspected his day wouldn't be the same as the rest.

The Sworn Brotherhood - better known as Kingsguards - were sworn to never own land, take a wife, or father children so they could fully focus on their duty of protecting the king and the royal family. Of course, they were still men, and despite the sworn promise to remain as pure as fresh snow, most of them were regulars at brothels; but they never sought workers out in their uniforms, much less in broad daylight. It'd be asking for swift punishment.

"Here he is, the man you seek." Madam Sylvi announced with a smile full of feigned joy that only made his stomach drop. She rose from her chair swiftly, the long skirt of her dress swishing with her movements, and she hurried over to him, her arms sliding around his shoulders and head dropping to whisper in his ear. "The King has asked for you, sweet boy. I do not know why but you must mind your step and tread lightly." Her nails dug through the fabric covering his arms. 

Aegon.

"The King has ordered your swift removal from this.. establishment so that you may settle into your new apartments in Maegor's Holdfast as his new paramour. He asks that you only take belongings of sentimental value so we may escort you to your new home as quickly as possible. He's asked of us to assure you no harm or insult will come to you for as long as he reigns." One Kingsguard spoke, his voice largely devoid of emotion and stance rigid with alert, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous, perhaps flustered. At least he attempted to appear like a Kingsguard whereas his companion blatantly ogled one of the girls until subtly elbowed.

(Y/N) looked between the two men, his fingers curling around the skirt of Madam Sylvi's dress. It'd been years since he'd last clutched to her like a child, but he felt tremendously small under the unnerving stares from the two knights. "Sylvi," He exhaled, tearing his eyes away from the knights to look at her soft features. 

"Perhaps it will be temporary, until the anxieties and worries of war pass." She soothed softly but the subtle tremble of her voice gave away her real thoughts. Paramours could be replaced, they often were, but hardly any noble - much less a king - had ever so publicly announced their new lover. "Go collect your things, (Y/N). We mustn't make King Aegon wait." 

Madam Sylvi ushered him up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor where workers without homes to return to slept. His legs moved automatically toward his room at the end of the hall, or rather... his old room.

The idea hadn't settled in fully, not yet. He'd called the brothel home for far too many years. He'd been born in one of the many rooms he walked past; he'd raced up and down the halls whilst playing games; he'd been bathed and clothed and doted on by many in the very place he now had to leave. 

"(Y/N)!" A squeaky voice called out, soft footsteps thumping after him. (Y/N) stopped by the door into his old room, hand hovering over the doorknob and head tilting to peer down at the girl rushing toward him. Lyla collided with his leg, her arms wrapping around it and her chin resting over his hip as she looked up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Are you leaving?" 

"Afraid so, Ly." (Y/N) answered, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar room. The girl of only thirteen followed him inside, her lips forming a pout. He still remembered when her first flowering had occurred, a sign she'd become a lady. Her maidenhood had been up for auction the following month and a stout fisherman had managed to be the highest bidder. (Y/N) had been the one to clean the blood from her legs and ensure she drank moon tea. 

With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) looked over his rather plain room. He'd never given it any thought to decorate it with things from around King's Landing, for many of his fellow workers had sticky fingers and an eye for beautiful things. His bed was big enough to fit his body and his blanket thick enough to keep him warm throughout winter. There were a few potted plants around the room, something he added for some color and life. Otherwise, everything would merely be wood-toned.

"Will you visit?" Lyla asked, seating herself in the middle of his bed and tugging at the ends of her dress as she crossed her legs. Her eyes followed him as he sorted through his clothes and belongings in search of anything he'd miss, only to conclude the single item he considered valuable was the bracelet wrapped around his wrist; a simple gift from Madam Sylvi but one he held dearly. 

"I... am not sure, Ly. I will try to, if... if they allow me." (Y/N) responded, kneeling down by his bed and blindly searching until his hand bumped into the small wooden box he kept. He slipped his fingers around it and rose back up to take a seat beside the young girl, lifting the lid to reveal the glittering jewelry hidden within. Lyla gasped softly and shuffled closer. 

"They're pretty!" 

"Gifts from countless men and women, noble and smallfolk alike. I have collected and hidden them throughout the years for they are of little use to me. But, now that I am leaving... I believe you should have them. Take a few for yourself, Ly, but hide them where no other will find them. You must tell Madam Sylvi that you wish to exchange the rest for coin. It should be enough for your aunt to pay her debts and you'll never have to come here for work again." (Y/N) instructed her, digging through the jewelry until he found a thin silver necklace and clipped it around her neck.

"Truly?" Lyla asked quietly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her fingers glided along the necklace until they curled around it, squeezing it tight in her smaller hand. 

"Truly." (Y/N) nodded, setting the box on her lap and planting a kiss on her temple. His fingers brushed back some of her black curls, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. An orphaned child so desperate to remain with the last of her family that she'd shown up on their doorstep asking for a job, first as a mere servant and then into something more horrid. 

With Lyla's future looking brighter than his, he stood from his bed and took one last look at his room before venturing out into the hall and down to the first floor. The knights awaited him by the doors, the younger one of the two once again distracted by those coming and going. The one who'd addressed him straightened up at the sight of him, his gaze dropping down to (Y/N)'s empty hands and the lack of luggage. 

"I have... little of value."

"Very well." The knight cleared his throat. "We must depart for the Red Keep, then."

(Y/N) had never been in a carriage before, and he had to admit it was an odd feeling. Many of the roads leading back toward the Red Keep were bumpy and far from easy to travel. He found himself holding onto the cushioned seat beneath him as his body lurched and swayed with the bumps and light shaking of the carriage, his fingers digging into the soft fabric in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. How lords and ladies could withstand such dizzying rides was beyond him. 

When the carriage finally rolled to a smooth stop and the door on the side opened, the extent of the situation finally dawned on him. He'd never been to the Red Keep; Seven Hells, the only time he'd even stepped on the road leading up to the castle had been on his way to Fishmonger's Square.

But there he sat, in the main outer yard with the loud groaning of the main gate sliding closed behind him. He forced himself to step out of the carriage and out into the yard, the sight of servants, knights, and courtiers greeting him. 

"This way, my..." The knight trailed off and exchanged a wide-eyed look with his companion. (Y/N) was no courtier, no page or ward, no lordling with lands and titles. He was merely... a prostitute; a whore as patrons loved to call him and his friends. Everyone around them seemingly came to the same conclusion, their stares becoming scrutinizing or pitiful. 

"(Y/N)," He said quietly, tugging his cloak further over his shoulders, suddenly feeling extremely aware of how plain his clothes seemed in comparison to the courtiers lingering around. He prayed the hood covered his neck from prying eyes. "Call me (Y/N), Ser." 

The knight nodded, his helmet slipping further down his head with his movements. It seemed the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had chosen... a questionable lot for the job. (Y/N) dug his teeth into the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, an action that'd become second nature to him whenever he left the brothel, for drawing attention to yourself in the city was asking to be robbed or killed. It hardly helped him inside the castle, however. Those they walked by stared and whispered amongst themselves, blatantly motioning in his direction while doing so.

(Y/N) saw the look in their eyes, the way they turned their noses up and scoffed as if his mere presence brought a stain to the castle. Nobles believed themselves to be better than those who worked to provide everything they required, and it was that sense of ego that often made them the best customers; for a simple stroke of their ego had them spilling more coin than they could count. Most of them were fools, even with the high education they received, (Y/N) knew this well. Appearing timid and meek did people little favors in Flea Bottom, even less so among the nobility. 

Madam Sylvi had been right. He had to tread lightly. 

After a long walk through many hallways and staircases, the knights finally stopped before two large oak doors and simultaneously pushed them open to reveal the bedchambers within. "Your apartments... (Y/N)." One spoke rather awkwardly, vaguely motioning with his hand for him to enter. (Y/N) stepped into the room and stopped, blinking at the size alone. 

His... 'apartments' were even larger than the brothel if the two floors combined into one. On the far right end elevated by a small platform sat a luxurious-looking bed large enough to fit at the very least five people with a wooden canopy holding sheer curtains at the sides. Near the bed sat a desk with blank papers and a quill ready to be used alongside beautifully carved wooden chests for storage whilst on the opposite side stood a large closet.

In the center of the room, a beautiful rug with flower designs covered most of the floor, long couches and comfortably looking seats atop with a dining table set nearby. Lined along the walls were numerous paintings and shelves, some filled with books and others empty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large open window at the left side of the room that overlooked part of the city and ocean, a gentle breeze flowing in from it. Near the window sat a bronze tub on one side and a few more chairs by a fireplace on the other. Extremely extravagant, he had to admit, but far too much for a single person. His old room seemed pebble-sized in comparison. 

"I am Ser Corlin and I will be stationed outside at all times if you ever require my presence or assistance. I will follow you wherever you must go and am sworn to give my life for you if needed as King Aegon has assigned me as your Sworn Shield." (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he whirled around to face the more talkative of the two knights, his eyes flickering to the other one when he dipped his head and left. Ser Corlin seemed a well enough protector, if not a little young. 

"Why would I need a... 'Sword Shield'?" He hardly knew what that meant, but based on Ser Corlin's words it appeared to be quite the important job. "I am merely... I am hardly important enough to need protection, Ser." 

"You are King Aegon's paramour; the only one of many to be given such attention. We cannot know for sure if any envious past lovers may wish ill upon you or if Rhaenyra the Cruel will attempt to harm you to cause our king further strife." Ser Corlin explained, shuffling aside to allow a few maids into the room. He dipped his head, providing no further information, and shut the door behind him. 

"How wonderful." (Y/N) exhaled, hands undoing the laces of his cloak and carefully tugging it off his shoulders. One maid sprang into action, collecting the cloak from his arms and looking over the muddied ends with a thoughtful look. He blinked at her, watching her dip her head similarly to Ser Corlin and slip out of the room. Were they... bowing? To him? 

"I'm Laerra," The eldest looking between the maids spoke before motioning to the other three with her. "These are Eliza, Shana, and Marya. We will be primarily tending to your needs: bathing, changing, cleaning, and fulfilling any requests you ask of us. His Grace wished for you to be changed into some of the clothing stored in the closet, if we may?" 

"I... am not a child. I can change myself." 

"It would be better if we did it for you, My Lord." The round-faced redhead, Eliza, spoke next, a hint of meekness in her voice. The usage of a title made him grimace but if it made things easier on the servants, he'd deal with it, he supposed.

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) sighed and nodded, finding no use in arguing with the customs of nobility. The maids moved swiftly; one of them filled a basin with water and warmed it by the fireplace, another fetched the clothes, and the remaining two began removing his clothes.

They worked diligently and quickly, a focused look passing over each of their faces. Shana scrubbed and dried his skin with a rag she dipped into the basin, getting his skin rid of any sweat and dirt it accumulated during his trip in the city, giving herself a nod of approval when she finished. Eliza scooped his old clothes into her arms and disappeared from his room as Marya and Laerra began dressing him in soft fabrics. 

"Imported fabrics and cloths from Dorne and some of the Free Cities, My Lord," Marya revealed when he eyed the white undershirt, the soft fabric rubbing nicely against his skin as they put him in a dark green overshirt. When they slipped gem-adorned rings on his fingers, she added, "Gemstones from Pentos. The King wished for nothing else than beautiful." 

"Thank you." He told them, feeling pampered yet suffocated. "I-... You.. may go. I'd like time alone, if I may." 

"Shall we bring you some wine? Perhaps some lemon cakes, as well?" Laerra questioned but when he waved them off, they all dipped into a curtsy and ushered themselves out of the room, plunging it into heavy silence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. It was too much, all of it. The room, the clothes, the accessories. He'd had a perfectly fine life in the Street of Silk, despite everything he witnessed and experienced. 

(Y/N) tugged the rings from his fingers, scattering them across the dining table, and undid the buttons of his overshirt to pull it off and drape it over a chair. He had little need for such things, for so many layers. He collapsed on one of the chairs and braced his arms over the table, his eyes drifting over to the window. His ears strained to catch the bustle of the city but the wind was all he heard, amongst muffled chatter and footsteps from the hallway outside. 

"Gods," He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slumping back in the chair. "What have I gotten myself into?" 

(Y/N) hardly had any time to process before the doors swung open and Ser Corlin's voice echoed into the room, "Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower." His lips pressed together tightly, teeth digging into his inner bottom lip and a heavy exhale escaping through his nose. The Gods lacked mercy for him, it seemed. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) greeted, standing up from the chair and bending at the waist when he turned around to face her. Queen Alicent (was she to be referred to as Dowager Queen? There were far too many titles) strode into his room with an air of grace, her dark eyes sliding over to him while her features remained blank.

Queen Alicent was beautiful with long dark auburn hair that'd been tied back and cascaded along her back, big brown eyes that studied him closely, and a slender figure. She appeared youthful, and he had to remind himself she had most of her children before reaching the age of twenty. 

"You must be (Y/N)." She spoke softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion... amongst other things. I am aware my son feels quite fondly of you despite your former job. I must admit I was quite caught off guard when he announced his decision to move you here, into the Red Keep rather than housing you elsewhere as most other nobles do with their... lovers. May I ask what your family believes of this? I cannot say they will be welcomed if they seek riches." 

"I was born in Madame Sylvi's brothel. I do not know my father as my mother likely took many lovers a week to know for certain." 

Queen Alicent's brows furrowed, her long fingers ghosting over the hand of her hand to begin toying with one of her rings. "Likely? You.. you do not know your mother? How is that so?"

"I was never told." (Y/N) shrugged. "As a babe, I was passed around to whomever had the milk to feed me. My mother never claimed me as her own, but I'm sure she tended to me at one point or another. The women there never cared to tell me who amongst them had birthed me. They were all my mothers, I suppose. I can assure you they'd only approach me for favors if the idea ever struck them." 

"Born in a brothel.." Queen Alicent murmured quietly, her skirt gliding along the floor as she drew closer to him, her hand coming to rest along the top of the chair at the end of the table. "Forgive me if it is a difficult question to answer, but may I know the age you were when you began... working?" 

"I was eight years of age when frequenters began asking, nine when I began working. It is tradition in most brothels to auction the first time to the highest bidder as most patrons enjoy laying with virgins. I hardly recall the night but I believe it was with a couple from Braavos." His hand moved to grasp the wrist where the bracelet remained, thumb pressing into it at the memory of Madam Sylvi gifting it to him the following day after the couple left. The Dowager Queen paled. "They paid well." He added, though it hardly sounded like much of a comfort.

"You were a child." She exhaled, breathless and her voice dripping with pity. The stone-faced look she'd carried when she first arrived had vanished, her glassy eyes reminding him of Aegon's. They looked so alike in certain lights, he noted, from the furrow of their brows to the curve of their lips. She appeared smaller, younger, without the emotionless facade she'd put up when first acknowledging him. 

"As were you when you wed King Viserys." (Y/N) spoke carefully, his words soft and knowing. She stared at him, the shine in her eyes growing and full lips parting with a shaky exhale. Queen Alicent's gaze fell onto the stone floor and the tip of her nails scraped against the wood of the chair she held onto, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale. 

"It is the duty that falls on the shoulders of many young noble girls. It was expected of me, and I fulfilled my duty, as you well see." He heard the subtle tremble in her voice, saw the way the corner of her brows dipped with each word; was she convincing him or herself? (Y/N) could hardly tell, but what he did know was that with a simple few words the Queen's true nature had reared its head. She remained a young girl in her heart, despite the years of motherhood and marriage thrusted upon her. 

"Duty or not, it did not make you any less of a child, Your Grace." He moved slowly, somewhat cautiously, when he approached her, keeping his footsteps light and his posture relaxed.

(Y/N) studied her face, her reactions, and the way her body responded to his movements with keen, observant eyes. She watched him, her eyes darting down to his arms so he moved them behind his back to ease any worries of him lashing out toward her. He stopped a few feet away, keeping enough space between them for her to relax.

"Forgive me if I speak too plainly or boldly, Your Grace, for us smallfolk hardly ever converse with those above our stations. I assume you have your assumptions about me, about how I make my coin, but I do not just pleasure others."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, the way her eyes jumped around the room from item to item telling him she felt nervous, likely uncomfortable with the topic of sex. The necklace resting around her neck held a pendant similar to the seven-pointed star that represented the Seven. For a woman of faith and nobility speaking of sex with someone of the opposite sex whom she had no relation to would be considered scandalous. 

"I provide comfort, as well. A willing ear to those who desire to be heard without judgment. I hold many stories, secrets, desires, and hopes that have been told to me throughout many years that will never leave my lips. I value trust, and I would never break another's, even for coin. I had little friends in the city, I doubt I have any at all here," A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. "If you find yourself needing a friend, I'd be happy to listen over tea or sweets. I have a feeling I'll be finding myself... quite lonesome here." 

"I... I shall keep your offer in mind." Queen Alicent said gently, her fingers curling around her hand and lips forming a tight-lipped smile. She dropped her hands down to the sides of her skirt, slightly lifting the ends and departing toward the doors. She stopped before them and peered over her shoulder at him. "King Aegon has matters he is attending to but I'm certain he will welcome you once he is done. Welcome to the Red Keep, (Y/N)."

[deuxadeux-if]

WELCOME TO DEUX À DEUX.

Hi all, I’m Ray, and this is the official Tumblr of the WIP interactive fiction game “Deux à Deux."

This post contains:

Socials

Current Demo Status & Patreon Status

Short Synopsis

Long(er) Synopsis

About the Game (ROs and a basic “things to do” summary)

Content Warnings

Demo

***The game is planned to have some mature content, so 18+ only from here on out, please :-) ***

Socials: Pinterest | Spotify | COG Forum | Patreon

Demo & Prologue Status (10/05/2024):

| Public Demo |

Prologue is available. You should also see an ending page which allows you to restart/share game, you should have a stats screen, and you should have 4 save slots.

| Patreon |

Prologue is available. R Burns POV #1 (for prologue scene) is available for free & paid members on Patreon. Erin Pinsky Diary #1 and T Lyons POV #1 are available to Obsession tier on Patreon. Two free drabbles are on Patreon (you can find them here, too, though).

Short Synopsis:

You’re barely scraping by your dead-end job when a couple leaves a note as they leave: “Quit your job—we’ll take care of you.” Calling the number on the note throws you headfirst into a world of luxury, intrigue, power, and lust. Tread lightly.

Long(er) Synopsis:

As a server at a self-proclaimed “upscale” restaurant in New York City, most of your shifts end with exhaustion, total rage, or vague annoyance. When a beautiful couple leaves you a note with their receipt (instructing you to quit your job and let them “take care” of you), along with a $500 tip, you’re intrigued.

You don’t expect much from the note, but it quickly becomes obvious that you’ve caught the Lyonses attention. They’re persistent as they are mysterious, but you soon realize there’s a dark underbelly to their glamorous, luxurious lifestyle. Whether you stay in it or not is up to you.

Will you become part of (or break up) the Lyons couple, or will you find another path with their permanent “house guest”? Maybe you’ll be the fourth piece in their puzzle. You could stay at your crappy serving job and get closer with one of two coworkers, to the horror of the Lyonses—or maybe even your boxing coach.

Whatever happens, it won’t come easy.

About the Game:

-----------------------------ROs---------------------------

T Lyons.

T (Tom/Tess/Tory) Lyons is wealthy, mysterious, and cold. They’re married to N Lyons, and the two of them are the very picture of a New York City “power couple."

T takes an immediate liking to you when they meet you at La Table (the restaurant you work at). Their interest is what sweeps you into the Lyonses life, into their own luxurious, illicit, private world.

Appearance: T Lyons is American and black. They have black hair, sharp lips, and cold brown eyes.

N Lyons.

N (Noah/Natasha/Nico) Lyons is T’s devoted spouse, and is in turns alluring and terrifying. N is apprehensive to have you join their world, despite their immediate interest in you, because the Lyonses only ever have one “house guest” at once.

N Lyons will be a little harder to win over, but they may prove a more loyal ally. You also wonder how much they pull the strings of the Lyonses’ lives behind the scenes. Only time will tell.

Appearance: N Lyons is Mexican-American and brown. They have very dark brown hair, long eyelashes, and calculating black eyes.

M Nguyen.

M (Mason/Molly/Mars) Nguyen is the current house guest of the Lyonses, and you immediately wonder if they find you an unwelcome intrusion or a possible savior.

M is more reserved than either of the Lyonses, but then again, they don’t have much to talk about. They don’t leave the house much, but they want for nothing under the Lyonses care. You just wonder if they’re in a gilded cage, or truly satisfied.

Appearance: M Nguyen is Vietnamese-American and tan. They have black hair, angular cheekbones, and thoughtful black eyes.

R Burns.

R (Ronnie/Roxanne/Rainn) Burns is one of your closest almost-friends in your “real life.” They’re your boxing coach, the best around, and you consider them mostly (or completely) to thank for your combat skills.

You’re always entertained with R, but you’re torn between deciding if there’s real care beneath the easy amusement on the surface. Do you want to get closer to R, or leave them in the dust?

Appearance: R Burns is Punjabi-American and brown. They have black hair, a prominent nose, and dark brown eyes.

Erin Pinsky.

Erin Pinsky (genderlocked) is your almost-almost-codependent coworker. She’s a very talented server, always lighthearted and charming … if you cared more about your job, you might be jealous.

She seems to really like you, too. The question is, is that affection only surface-level, or could there be something more there?

Appearance: Erin Pinsky is American and white. She has poorly bleached hair, always-on black eyeliner, and bright brown eyes.

Theo Ferreira.

Theo Ferreira (genderlocked) is another of your coworkers, but you can’t really tell if he thinks anything about you … like, at all. He doesn’t really give a shit about La Table or his job, so he’s more stern than charming as a server.

For some reason, the customers eat this up. Sometimes he’ll sneak you stolen food from the back and insist you bring it home, but otherwise he’s pretty quiet. Still, he’s very handsome.

Appearance: Theo Ferreira is Brazilian-American and brown. He has buzzed brown hair, expressive eyebrows (though he hates this), and shrewd black eyes.

----------------------THINGS TO DO---------------------

In Deux à Deux, you can romance several people at once (whether there will be consequences or not is anyone’s guess … mwahaha) or devote yourself to one RO. You can also date nobody, I guess, but that will be a lot less fun in this game, sorry!

You can throw yourself wholeheartedly into life with the Lyonses, including going clubbing, eating fine dining, going on impromptu vacations, etc.

You can also reject their frivolous lifestyle entirely, avoiding them when you can (although they’re quite persistent) and spend time boxing, hanging with your coworkers, or trying to get M out of the Lyonses lives.

Or, if you’re feeling ambitious, you can try to balance both.

This game will have:

Romance (duh)

Stat checks with consequences (there will be 2-3 majorly game-defining stat checks, so choose wisely)

Combat (everyone has a few skeletons in their closets, right?)

A fair bit of drama.

Content Warnings:

These will be updated more as I continue writing and completely solidify things, but this is a start.

Combat: knives, guns, street fighting

Violence: blood, bruising, unconsciousness

Stalking (not by ROs or MC)

Swearing/cursing (your MC can choose not to curse, though!)

Sexually suggestive content

Sexually explicit content (can opt out via “fade-to-black”)

NOTE: there is no sexual violence or allusions to it, EVER. There is no human/sex trafficking or allusions to it, EVER.

The Demo:

Link: https://dashingdon.com/go/17086 OR click here.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for your interest in my game!! So excited to continue sharing this with you all.

XO

Ray

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 4

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,6k words | masterlist

You are alone. The room is dark. Silent. Not a single noise audible. Not a single candle burning. Nothing but deafening silence and darkness, almost like an endless void.

And you. You are alone with your thoughts. Your fears. Your memories. 

Nesta has left a moment ago, the wooden door is now closed, the room dark. She had asked you a few times if it would be alright to leave you alone, and of course, you said yes. You decided that you like Nesta. She has a powerful aura around her and is definitely not one to mess with. You would have loved to talk to her a bit more, but you couldn’t keep her here. 

But damn, do you hate being alone now. You said you would be alright, but deep inside you knew you wouldn’t, but you didn’t want to keep her here. You couldn’t do this to her.

You are miserable and considered one of the most dangerous beings in this world — what would she do here? With you. She definitely has better things to do...

But now that you are alone, the room suddenly scares you. Being alone does. You didn’t want to keep her here, but you also don’t want to be alone.

Your curl your fingers towards your palms, drawing blood when your sharp nails pierce into your flesh. But the pain…you don’t even notice it anymore, having done this so many times over the past centuries. Whenever you were scared, or panic.king It was not in order to harm or hurt yourself, but to remind yourself that what is happening to you real, not some wild nightmare or hallucination, that you haven’t gone mad.

You lift your gaze and turn your head slightly, your neck aching. You realise quickly that you can’t stay here. You don’t want to stay here. Not alone. Not in the dark. Never again. You can’t do this. You can’t stay here right now. 

No one told you you had to stay in your room, only in the Library. So the Library is where you want to be. Outside of this room. In the light. Surrounded by books and maybe one or the other person – the priestesses.

You shoot to the door and rip it open, dashing toward the first light source you spot. The large, towering bookshelves at the end of the corridor are lit and this is where you are heading right now, tired feet still carrying you over the floor rather quickly.

Once surrounded by many books, the scent of the old pages seeping into your nostrils, you inhale deeply and close your eyes for a moment, trying to level your breathing and still your mind.

The Valkyries once had breathing techniques you still like to use. Mind-stilling techniques that helped you to not go insane in your time in the Prison.

You hand reaches out and you brush over some books.

It is a soft, female voice that startles you slightly when you hear it behind you. “You must be, Y/N.”

You spin around and are met with a beautiful, tall female with teal eyes. She kindly smiles at you and you nod.

“I‘m Gwyn. I also live here. Welcome to the Library.”

You meet her gaze and stop dead in your tracks. "Gwyn?"

"Yes," she says, "actually Gwyneth Berdara, but I prefer Gwyn. Just Gwyn."

You look at her in slight surprise, feeling both nostalgic and sad. Your friend, a former member of the Wild Hunt, was called Gwyn. He is dead now.

"You are not scared?" You don't want to think about him, the friend you have lost. Another person who left the world too soon.

You swallow around a lump in your throat and your sharp fingernails brush over the spine of a book. You are thankful for the sweater Nesta has offered you on your way down here, having seen how much you shivered, now hanging loosely over your shoulders, the nightgown beneath still the same you have been wearing for centuries.

"Of you?" Gwyn asks with a smile and takes one step closer. You almost want to warn her to not get too close, but you know you would never hurt her. It’s only what you’ve heard your whole life. Don’t get too close to the demon. Stay away from the evil female. 

The Bloodthirsty Baroness comes at midnight to steal your soul and leave you to bleed out. The Silent Reaper executes you before you can defend yourself. Not once have you done such a thing - only tales and legends made you seem like this demonic monster. You only ever avenged victims, took care of those who hurt them, and devoured the revenge you exerted. But you never hurt someone only to hurt them.

"Yes, of me." You meet her eyes again and see how she shakes her head.

"I have a lot of respect for you, but scared? I know you won’t harm me, so I'm not scared."

"Because the High Lord would kill me for it."

Her warm, soft palm lands on your chest before you have time to react. It startles you, massively, and you nearly choke on a breath. Your eyeballs threaten to fall out of their sockets by how wide your eyes are open — she is touching you. You are not irritated or shocked about the audacity, you are confused, startled, about her...kindness.

She smiles when she takes in the shock on your face.

"I am not scared of you because I know you have a good heart. Right in there, you are good, and I don’t have to be afraid of you, with the High Lord’s protection or without it. I know you wouldn’t harm me."

She pulls back her hand and you almost want to reach for her and just pull her into an embrace. She reminds you of your sister and right now you would give the world for just a simple hug from your sister. Or just a simple hug. Just someone caring enough for you to hold you.

“The fangs? The claws, the—”

“Incredibly amazing assets and most definitely very handy in battle. And as I said, I have a lot of respect for you, I can feel your power and I know what you are probably capable of. I am incredibly impressed by you and your powers, but they don't scare me.”

You almost want to laugh about the powers part. Because right now...you don't have them. Not with the amulet not being in your possession, not with some training. Every ounce of power you had, slowly drained from your body during the imprisonment.

But you shake your head and inhale deeply. You don't want to let your anger and frustration show right now, it wouldn't be fair when Gwyn has only been kind to you.

With a little chuckle slipping through your lips you shake your head. “You have a heart of pure gold, Gwyn.”

She only smiles politely, but a faint blush stains her cheeks. “You want company this evening?”

A sigh of relief leaves you. “There is nothing I would rather want." You sling your arms around yourself. "If you don’t mind, of course.”

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

The following day – armed with several books Gwyn helped you collect in the Library– you start to read up on Koschei, on spells and curses, on anything that could be important. 

You dive into one book after the other, each one captivating you so much you forget about the time and world around you as you gather information, noting things done or remembering by heart. Your mind is sharp, fully focused on the book, eyes scanning every single word, taking it all in. There is so much that is important, you let your head fall back and then you inhale deeply. 

Hopefully, they will give you back your amulet soon. You need it and you also want it back. It has been in your family’s possession for centuries, until Azriel–

You don’t dwell on this thought, straightening up and focusing back on the task at hand – going through yet another book and some pieces of parchment that come along with it. 

By the special request of Rhysand High Lord of the Night Court, you are always working upstairs, in the living room of the House of Wind. It doesn’t bother you; most of the time you are alone, some tending to business inside the house, others training (Gwyn told you so) on the rooftop. 

Sunlight brushes your skin and you revel in the feel of it. You haven’t felt, nor seen, sunlight in so long it now feels like balm against your skin. It is so good, you haven’t felt that alive in so long. 

You are still kept somehow locked in, but it almost feels like freedom. You are allowed to roam freely in the House of Wind and the Library. You haven’t got your powers back, but as long as you are in here, you don’t need them. You only need a bit of sunlight, some wonderful conversations with Gwyn, a soft bed to sleep in and good food. It is enough and slowly contentment crawls back into your body – nothing you’ve never thought to ever happen again. 

But now there is hope for you to find happiness again. Not with Azriel, and also not with him in your life, but there will be a way to avoid him somehow. Once you have your powers back and Koschei is defeated they might let you leave. You would go to the continent or even further away. As far away from the male who caused you that much pain as possible. 

“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

The voice startles you and you almost shriek, jumping up in your chair, snatching the book close. Your heart races like a wild horse and you whip around to look at Nesta. 

There is a smile on her face, one that is too kind and empathetic – you are not used to that sort of friendly behaviour towards you. 

“I am fine.” You'r answer is too quick. Too tight, and Nesta purses her lips.

“You may pretend to be, and you are damn good at it, but I know you are not.” She closes the door behind her and moves toward the table, bracing her slim hands upon the surface, manicured nails tapping against it. “What you have gone through…I think none of us can imagine, but I don’t want you to have to swallow it all up.”

Her throat bobs when she swallows. “I know what it does to someone, not opening up or not having anyone to talk to.”

“I don’t need anyone to talk to.” You meet her gaze. “I don’t need anyone.” You want this statement to be strong and steadfast, but your voice gives you away, breaking slightly towards the end, so you quickly add. “All my life, I’ve been alone. I was orphaned when I was a babe, later no one ever cared about me, then my powers manifested and everyone got scared and they started to fear and hate me.”

“You were part of the Wild Hunt.” Nesta interrupts you and you don’t like it. But her statement surprises you. How the hell does she know? Well, Rhysand has probably told everyone. How he knew? Either from his father or Azriel.

“I was.”

She claims the seat across you and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

“I’m sure they cared about you.” Neither of you looks away and power stretches out between you. You are both strong-willed and powerful, neither of you is giving in now. You wonder if she really only wants to help you, be there for you. There is not a kernel of bad blood inside her body, your soul detects nothing, and so it makes you truly think she might only want to be nice to you. But why?

“We didn’t care about each other. We tolerated each other, had our backs when we went out for the hunt, but that was it.” Slowly, you scrape a talon down the cover of the book. 

“Did you give yourself your nicknames?”

Does none of them have manners? No knocking, no announcing oneself, just showing up. 

You turn to Gwyn and raise your brow at her. You can’t be mad at her, she was too kind to you the other evening, and her words have strung cords within your heart you thought no longer to exist. So, inhaling deeply and calming your heart, your decide to be polite to her.

“The Bloodthirsty Baroness.” Gwyn walks up to Nesta, nothing but curiosity shimmering within her teal eyes. "The Silent Reaper."

Your eyes flick to her and in a smooth, polished voice you say, “I earned myself the titles.”

Neither Gwyn nor Nesta show a reaction but a chill courses through the room, cooling the temperature at least two degrees.

“But probably not for the reason you think," you silently add. You move the book away from you and flex your fingers, then curl them towards your palms. “I wasn’t bloodthirsty for innocent people, I only took revenge for those who could no longer do so. My hands were drenched in blood, but it wasn’t spilled in vain.”

“See,” Gwyn says with a small smile and slumps into the chair next to Nesta. “I knew you had a good heart.”

A cold chuckle parts your lips. “I wouldn’t quite say that I have a good heart, but I’m not quite as cruel as the legends and stories paint me. And the silent part is definitely true - always appearing at midnight, taking the souls of those with me who deserved it. No noise could be heard, no one could be seen and no trace was left behind.”

A smirk appears on Nesta’s face and she slowly bows her head. “Are you alright with being here?” She changes the topic and you are incredibly thankful for it. Or would be, if she hadn’t asked this question. 

You can’t quite say no, because being here is not the worst place you have ever been at, but then, with Azriel always being somewhere around, it kind of is (not as bad as the Prison though…)

“It is alright.”

“I asked if you are alright.”

You chuckle again and give your head a shake. “I’m alright.” 

Now, Nesta dips her chin and seems content with your answer. Insufferable, you think, but you have to admit you actually like her. She partly reminds you of yourself. 

There is a little spark inside your mind, just a very small thought, a fleeting moment, that lets you think what if. What if you stayed here and became friends with Nesta and Gwyn. You could see yourself being friends with them and–

You immediately cut off your string of thouhgts. 

This is bullshit. You won’t stay here. The first chance you get, you will be gone. Far away and never return. People who live here have hurt you, and you will never find forgiveness for them.

“Shall we let you work again?”

With a smile you dip your chin at Gwyn. “That would be nice. I’ve found quite some things already.” You don’t really know why you share so much, but you are all in this together, so why keep things from them. And so you continue, letting them in on what you have found out already, sharing some bits and pieces with them that could be of interest. 

When the sun already starts to set outside and Gwyn and Nesta leave for training with the other priestesses you are for the first time reminded how much time you have spent bent over the books this day.

“Nesta,” you call after her once she is nearly out of the door. 

She slowly turns to you, waiting, but Gwyn is already gone, her humming filling the otherwise silent corridor. 

“Thank you for offering me to talk to you whenever I need it. And thank you…just thank you.” You smile a little sheepishly but she returns it with a bright grin. “Anytime,” she says and you add, “If you get a chance, just tell Gwyn thank you from me again as well.”

She bows her head and is gone in the next moment. 

With a small, barely-there smile on your lips you focus your attention back to the task at hand. Spending so much time researching seems like a good thing to make time pass, you realise and reach for yet another book. It is big and has a thick velvety binding. Your fingers stroke over the golden lettering that says something about darkness and its creatures. 

When you flip it open the first lovely being revealed to you is the Naaga. You haven’t seen them in a long time, you think, but you have had both good and bad memories with those little beasts. You flick through more pages, getting lost in every little word you read, reminding you of a time long ago. 

So enthralled by the knowledge you gather from the book, you haven’t noticed that someone opened the door, nor that someone has walked in.

Not someone – Azriel. 

"Can we talk?"

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[cirtusmistress]

JJK Bridgerton Inspired HC’s - Gojo, Geto, Nanami

authors note: so your girl is on a Bridgerton binge and a JJK rewatch binge so like.. I’m boutta cater to such a niche audience lmao

genre: historical romance

tw: a lil horny sometimes but ultimately SFW

AO3 Crosspost

💙 Crown Prince Satoru Gojo and The Debutant 💙

• A prince by birth and next in line for the throne.

• Well bred, read, and wanted most dead. Has lived through multiple assasination attempts.

• Was never really interested in the prospect of marriage, was more invested in rehauling the royal system as a whole.

• Likes to spend his time with the young royals and nobles like his ward Megumi.

• W H O R E. Chronic flirt. Smart enough not to accidently sire an heir but knows how to have his fun.

• Met you during your debut year. You were the first woman to actually catch his eye.

• First he thought it was just more sexual attraction, but after a dance and a conversation he knew it was much more. Your wit was unmatched and you had snark enough to keep up with him.

• Played it cool though because he knew if he gave you too much attention you’d have a target on your back, and he wanted to make sure you were his.

• Goes out of his way to see you as much as he can. Lots of ‘accidental’ run-ins.

• The moment that sealed the deal for him was when you near bested him in a fencing match. It had been so long since someone had surprised him.

• Though being under the eyes of the crown prince doesn’t go unnoticed. Soon enough other men began attempting to court you. Even worse, certain parties started conspiring to use you against him.

• This all came to a head when you were cornered at a ball. You were meant to be taken hostage and used to lure and kill the prince. But there was no corner of the world they could hide you where he would not look. His day started and ended with you and if they harmed you the world would burn in your name.

• You were found and rescued by him, and your kidnappers were dealt with in a swift and brutal fashion.

• He proposed on the spot. No hesitation he was on that shit. You were to be his and that was that. And you would never be alone again.

• The wedding was huge. No expense was spared and he catered to your every whim and desire. You were his gorgeous only ever.

• Honeymoon was.. Oh baby. Literally. You weren’t coming back without being knocked up.

💜 Duke Suguru Geto and The Viscountess 💜

• Of common birth and rose to the rank of Duke after the former Duke passed away. He was the only living male relative, hence receiving the title.

• A former friend of the crown prince. The pair had a falling out when Geto grew power hungry in his new role. He is still a respected member of the ton, though under constant watch of the crown.

• As a Duke he is in charge of a small township. He’s known for his high taxes and using his citizens to collect rare birds from the surrounding area. He keeps them in an aviary with clipped wings, and sells them to other nobility for profit.

• He once was in charge of two townships, but one mysteriously burnt to the ground. An investigation brought no results, but it did reveal two survivors. Geto took them in as his wards.

• He met you during one of his bird sales to the Queen. You were a member of her entourage.

• You were a young widowed Viscountess with two young daughters of your own. Your husband had died of medical complications, leaving you alone with no sons. Luckily you had favor with the queen, but with no husband and no heirs you were in desperate need of saving.

• He found your unwavering commitment to your children admirable and you two began a long friendship.

• Your girls all got along well, and you loved his daughters with all your heart. Something about you doing their hair and tending to them so gently made his heart flutter.

• The friendship did eventually turn into more.. Especially after you admitted you urned for more children.

• Enter baby fever Suguru.

• He proposed in his aviary, promising to love your children as his own, and to give you as many more children as you desire.

• Townsfolk said Geto became far kinder after your marriage.

💛 Viscount Kento Nanami and The Housekeeper 💛

• Kento was born into his role as Viscount. And he takes it extremely seriously. Balancing finances and planning events, maintaining a reputation for his family.

• Unlike other men in the ton he rarely goes out to gentlemans clubs. He goes on the occasional hunt though he sees it as pointless and barbaric.

• His goal was to find a practical match, not a love match. He wanted someone who would bare him an heir, so that one day he could rest knowing he had done all he could for his family.

• His housekeeper eventually was forced to retire after injuring her hip. She had served his family for over fifty years and raised him, so he ensured she lived the rest of her life comfortably.

• But.. That meant he had to find a replacement. Easier said than done. No one could live up to the former housekeeper. Plenty of maids were recommended but.. None of them felt right. So he put out a request.

• And then you showed up. Younger, so he was skeptical. But you came on high recommendation from her majesty herself. Apparently you were quite capable and able to handle the heavy loads associated with the job.

• And lord were you. No one could have taken this job more seriously. Not a hair out of place, not a meal late. Sheets pressed. Animals tended.

• And Nanami found it.. Oh so attractive. Your dedication. Your concentration.

• Nothing impressed him more than your skills in the kitchen. You were an amazing cook. Although it wasn’t a listed priority in your job, you still took time out of your day to prepare one of his meals. Usually his afternoon tea.

• After a few months, he was starting to grow fond of you. It was improper to feel such emotions for a servant. But he couldn’t help notice all the little things. The crease of your brow as you kneaded dough. The satisfied smile after a days work completed. The pensive worry in your eyes as you dotted on him in his study.

• Eventually he had enough. Forgetting formality for once in his life, he gave you his heart. And you returned it.

• It was a scandal, but he took it. Because having you made it all worth it.

[random-databank]

Childhood Friends (Seth Lowell x Reader)

Hello, thank you for the request! Seth is one of my favorites but I also don't know much about his character, so I enjoyed writing this and learning more about him. Sorry it took so long!

Contains: gender neutral reader, could be platonic or romantic

The coffee shop in Lumina Square was a regular stop for you- it was spacious, the coffee was good, and you could stay there to get some work done if necessary.

You sipped your coffee and scrolled through your phone, opening the Knock Knock app. Most posts were of your friends and family, plus the occasional advertisement and Public Security post. In any other society, following the social media account of the local police would seem strange, but with the danger of the Hollows and new (usually illegal) factions popping up almost every other week, keeping up to date with the law enforcement was almost a necessity.

You paused at a group picture of several Pubsec officers, seeing a face you could’ve sworn was familiar to you. A cat Thiren in a Pubsec uniform… you couldn’t place it, but you’d definitely seen him somewhere. Maybe while he was on duty?

You clicked on the post to read the caption and were greeted with: Our newest members of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team! The post was pretty old, and it listed several names you didn’t recognize, finishing with Seth Lowell.

Seth… Lowell?

Your eyes widened as you realized where you’d heard the name. Your families had been friends, and you and Seth were close until the fall of the old capital and the necessary relocation of both your families- what was left of them, at least. After that, you’d lost contact, and seen no indication that Seth and his family had ended up in New Eridu or even alive.

You opened your photo gallery, scrolling as far back as you could, and found some pictures of the two of you. Luckily, you’d kept them backed up on the cloud before the disaster.

Little Seth and you, each grinning proudly and holding large sticks.

An “action shot” of the both of you fighting. In your imaginations, those sticks had probably been powerful swords.

A blurred shot of you dropping the stick and Seth running to you, with a slight streak of red visible on your face. Most likely taken by accident.

Another shot of the two of you, this time with your arms around each other and a Starlight Knights bandage on your cheek.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the sheet of clouds, burning them away in what usually signaled the start of mid-morning. You looked up from your phone and your stroll down memory lane. It was time to leave.

You were still a bit distracted as you started to clean up your table, mentally adding “find Seth again” to your to-do list as you went to leave and there was absolutely no way.

White hair, fluffy ears and tail, and a Pubsec uniform. What were the odds?

Oh, well. You could put off leaving for a little longer.

“Excuse me, officer. Seth Lowell, right?” you asked, approaching him and hoping he wasn’t working.

The Thiren turned around, noticing but not recognizing you if his face was any indication. “Hi, that’s me. I’m not on duty at the moment, so if you have a concern that can wait, I’d recommend visiting the station.”

“No, actually, I was hoping you were off duty. We were friends in the past, and I didn’t know where you went after the fall of the old capital, so I wanted to, um…“ You showed him your phone, photo app still open to the pictures from your childhood. “Do you remember me?”

Clearly he did, if the way his eyebrows shot up and his face broke into a smile were any indication. You were suddenly pulled into a tight hug, but before you could reciprocate, he released you just as fast. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, his tail swishing awkwardly from side to side. “I was looking for you too, but I couldn’t find anything…”

“It’s ok, I’m glad to see you too. Um… do you have to be anywhere soon?” you asked. “If not, maybe we can catch up a bit.” You gestured towards the stairs, which led to an upper level of outdoor seating.

Seth accepted eagerly- he would have offered if you hadn’t beat him to it, and he didn’t have to report to the station for a little while. You grabbed his arm and lightly tugged him along.

“Oh, by the way!” Seth seemed almost brimming with excitement. “Do you remember when we used to play pretend? I always wanted to be the hero, and there was that one time you pretended to be a villain with my brother, but…” 

The two of you continued talking into the morning, reminiscing and sharing stories of how you’d changed since your separation. Seth’s dedication was amazing, and seeing him as a Pubsec officer just as he said he’d be all those years ago made you incredibly proud. It felt like time had barely passed before Seth had to leave for work. He didn’t seem that worried, but you encouraged him along, not wanting him to be late on your account. Before you parted ways, you made sure to exchange contact information.

After all, it wouldn’t do to lose him again.

[goodqueenaly]

I'm rereading Jon's chapters, and I was wondering why Ygritte was so drawn to a "crow" in the first place? I understand the purpose of that relationship to his arc and the plot but can't quite work out why, from Ygritte's perspective, she's so incredibly persistent seemingly a very short time after meeting him. Does it all come down to the fact that she thinks he stole her?

It’s of course important to point out that in discussing romantic attraction, even in the context of a fictional narrative, we’re discussing a topic that is to some extent inherently mysterious and unexplainable. Too, as noted, I don’t think we should discount the tradition among the free folk for men to “steal” women, as indeed Ygritte teaches Jon about the custom to insist that Jon “stole” her in turn.

However, I think we should also, and not mutually exclusively, look to the circumstances of Jon and Ygritte’s first meeting, not merely to understand how Ygritte might have seen this moment as a sort of wife stealing but to analyze how Jon and Ygritte developed their personal connection. From the first moment the two interact, I think Ygritte would have noticed, and appreciated, how Jon defied her expectations for how a “crow” should or would act. Not only had Jon asked her to yield - repeatedly refusing Stonesnake’s command for Jon to kill her - but he almost immediately supported her against his own comrades: when Ygritte insisted that the dead free folk be burned lest they come back as wights, it was Jon who seconded the notion, even as Stonesnake remained unconvinced - a sign that Jon recognized the universal but long lost truth of the Others as the enemies of all mankind. Too, as Ygritte informed the Night’s Watch brothers that “[e]verything below the Wall’s south to us”, Jon quickly agreed that “it’s all in where you’re standing”, another recognition of their commonality. Indeed, that shared humanity between the two, picked up on by Ygritte and somewhat encouraged by Jon, was at the heart of the story told of Bael the Bard; Ygritte even echoed Jon’s borrowed identification of his mother as “some woman” not only to describe her own mother, but to inform Jon that he had “Bael’s blood in you, same as me”. To Ygritte, Jon likely seemed, if you’ll forgive the turn of phrase, Not Like Other Girls Crows, a much more interesting and likable sort than she perhaps expected.

All of this, however, might have been moot had Jon not shown himself truly different in the moment it mattered most - that is, when he was left to execute Ygritte. After all, despite her assertion to Qhorin that if he, Qhorin, were to surrender to one of the free folk his only reward would have been “[a] slower death than elsewise”, Ygritte herself yielded to Jon Snow as soon as he asked if she would do so. Ygritte was no coward, of course, but she was a young woman who clearly did not relish the notion of dying: Jon saw the “fear and fire in her eyes” when he asked her to yield, and although Ygritte initially put on a brave face ahead of her expected execution, she shivered at the actual touch of his steel and admitted that she “[could not] stay brave forever” when Jon hesitated. Even as she proposed running away right before her would-be execution, to a place where “[t]hem crows would never catch us”, Jon’s reminder that he was “as much a crow as they are” elicited only a reluctant agreement from her; as far as Ygritte could tell, Jon’s closeness to her from the night before had been subsumed into his position as a member of the Night’s Watch.

However, in this moment Jon again, I think, proved to Ygritte that he recognized her humanity, and that he cared for life as much as she did - much more, indeed, than his black-cloaked brothers seemed to do (or did). Her shock and surprise at his refusal to kill her, I think, was the moment Ygritte began to see Jon as truly special, and perhaps when she began to develop deeper feelings for him. Given the power, opportunity, and directive (by both Qhorin and Ygritte herself, in fact) to behead his captive, Jon gave her both her life and her freedom. Jon had acted not as a brother of the Night’s Watch, nor even as a free folk man who “stole” a wife might, but simply as a genuinely caring person - one who valued Ygritte enough to let her back into the life she had come so close to losing. Both had been changed by the other: not only had Jon begun to be influenced by or sympathize with parts of free folk viewpoint, but Ygritte went on to defend Jon to Rattleshirt by naming his as “Eddard Stark’s blood, of Winterfell” (a point she learned from Jon himself) and reminding Rattleshirt that Jon had yielded (just Jon had done with her, and as Ygritte had claimed the free folk would not care should an enemy of theirs surrender).

So again, while I don’t want to discount any other factors going into this attraction, I think Ygritte was in no small part left impressed by Jon in how they acted with one another initially. Jon’s specialness, I think, in Ygritte’s mind wasn’t just that he “stole” her, but that he acted in a uniquely empathetic, merciful, and caring way toward her. Where Ygritte assumed that Jon “[would] have me then, or kill me, or maybe both” following her capture, Jon “never did”; for this spearwife who so prided herself on her freedom, a crow who would refuse either to rape or murder her, and indeed give her her life back, was likely a rare and special bird indeed.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#17: The Danger (1.02)

gif cred: @chaoticroad

In the final scenes of episode 2, we're given a glimpse of the various things that will complicate Rick and Michonn'es journey home. Richonne will have a lot of threats pointed their way, and yet it's clear who the danger will really be. Because among these concluding scenes, Ms. Dana really climbs up a platform and looks out at the CRM base like - if you ever find me and my husband in a fight with the most powerful military on the planet...help the military 💅🏽😌...

So that lovely scene between the vehicles ends with Rick and Michonne exiting separately as Rick walks out first and then Michonne. I’m sure having to part right now is no easy task for these magnets.

When Rick walked out and put on his helmet I was like Rick, remember to take a little bit of that pep out of your step lol. Cuz he’s supposed to just be scowly downtrodden Sergeant Major Grimes to the CRM, but you know he was feeling like a new man after his wife gave him life and a fresh dose of strength in that garage.

Michonne watches Rick go, likely enjoying that walk, and then she closes the door and has a subtle expression of determination on her face as she walks off. And Michonne's energy just feels like she's ready to go toe to toe with the CRM for everything they've done to her husband, her friends, and herself.

They show a video playing from Michonne’s interview as she looks right into the camera.

gif cred: @nerd4music

We just see the shoulder of a CRM member watching the video, and you already know that means trifling garbage lady Jadis has entered the chat to complicate things as she always does. 😒

And y'all, I don't care how many years it's been since I last saw that serpent on my screen, I still loathe Jadis with a passion...

Then Michonne is again walking around the CRM and A-ing it up just with her looks and walk alone.

The way Michonne is moving and observing, she looks like she should be the one the CRM answers to not Beale lol. Like she truly exudes leader vibes. (Side note: I saw people saying if Okafor had met Michonne he’d be trying to convince Michonne, the A above all As, to be his right hand in his plan and I agree 😁) 

Intercut between this is Jadis 'No Boundaries' Stokes entering Rick’s apartment and pouring herself a drink which...she tried it.

And then we cut back to Michonne and she's climbing up on a platform to get a good scope of the place.

Seeing Michonne climb on top of that thing I was like...

Cuz aren’t we supposed to be lying low and yet you’re now climbing up on that platform, skin all radiant and glowing and very likely to attract attention cuz like why is a new consignee just doing her own thing up here??? 😅

Listen, I support it cuz I will always support Michonne but I just knew she was about to have Rick stressed. One thing about Michonne is she gon' be an A. It just is what it is. 👌🏽😇

gif cred: @nerd4music

And she really does look stunning standing up on that post as she gets a better view of exactly what she’s dealing with. Michonne takes it all in with a look of fierce determination on her face, knowing that the CRM should be scared cuz they have hurt one too many people, especially people she cares about dearly, and now they gotta answer for it.

It was smart storytelling to give Michonne personal reasons to be beefing with the CRM on top of her issues with them for what they've done to Rick.

And I love how this scene is a reminder that part of what makes Richonne's love story so distinct is that Rick and Michonne really are lethal lovebirds. So Michonne Grimes is a devoted wife and a determined mother, and she's also real deadly when she wants to be. And the CRM is bound to learn that soon enough.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Then I love the shot of her holding Nat's 'Danger' lighter. 👏🏽 And with that running theme of fire, the lighter is very fitting because again sometimes things have to burn and Michonne is not afraid to be the one to burn it down. She’s the danger.

And, I think this further confirms that Michonne and Danger were meant to have parallels as step-parents too. Also, it's just great that she has Nat’s lighter cuz it lets us know she’s going to ensure Nat fully gets his lick back against the CRM.

gif cred: @nerd4music

So after the great shot of Michonne looking like a Queen and then closing the lighter we cut to the Queen of Trash. 🙄 (Side note: while I loathe Jadis I think Pollyanna is a talented actress who has a good presence on screen. Just thought I'd clarify that because from here on out I'm whacking Jadis unabashedly👌🏽) 

Rick returns to his apartment and stops in his tracks when he sees Jadis is inside and has made herself comfortable. I hate how even Rick’s apartment doesn’t get to be a safe space for him because people just barge in at any time. 😑

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says hi and apologizes for breaking in and then says she’s here cuz this is an investigation but one that she wants to keep off the books. She tells him, “Let’s continue to keep certain things between you and me as we have.” 

And then because I think Jadis might combust if she doesn’t try someone every two seconds she shows she still enjoys making Rick uncomfortable by coming on to him when she says, “It’s been awhile. You look good.” And while Jadis is very correct about that it’s still trifling as hell and Rick is so over it as he responds by looking away and rolling his eyes.

I love how Rick genuinely only responds well to flirtatiousness and acknowledgment of his looks from Michonne and Michonne alone. I once saw someone say Rick is a michonnesexual and y'all...

So then Jadis marvels at how truly amazing it is that Michonne found Rick. When she says “She found you.” that’s when Rick’s face looks shaken as he realizes Jadis knows Michonne is here.

Then Jadis, who in her own weird twisted way is like one of the biggest believers in Richonne, says, “If anyone could she could.” It's good that Jadis is at least putting some respect on Michonne’s name here with that very accurate statement, even tho she’s still ticking me off.

But it is true - if anyone was gonna find Rick even despite him being trapped in a hidden city, it would be his soulmate.

Rick steps further into the apartment and reacts like he’s ready to end Jadis right here and now. Jadis reveals she knows what really happened in the forest and that the sword was Michonne’s meaning she’s the one who slit up those soldiers. Rick looks down as he listens and realizes that for the umpteenth time, Jadis is screwing up his plans. 😪

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says she’s keeping the knowledge she has off the books and just storing it in her twisted bowl-cut head. She tells Rick, “This doesn’t fall under our long-standing deal.” And then knowing full well that Michonne probably has revitalized Rick to feel like he and her can finally break free Jadis says, “You have to know that if you try to escape with her I will make sure that all those people that you love die - including a few that I like very much.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t root for Jadis' demise any harder than I already was she says this. 😑 Had me watching like...

Rick reacts to the threat with worry in his eyes as he approaches and Jadis stands up to tell Rick, “You have to know that. I’m certain that you do.” And it’s sad seeing Rick have to be pulled right back into the CRM’s propaganda that they are impossible to overcome. Jadis says she’s had to do worse things and her hands are already covered in blood so they can't get any bloodier.

Then she says she has a question to ask Rick. She apologizes for the language she's about to use and then calls back to the odd way she used to speak when she and Rick first met in season 7 when she says, “But you’ve heard a lot of language from me, yes yes yes?” Ooh that ticked me off off off y’all, cuz she’s so smug as she shatters Rick’s hope of getting him and Michonne out of here. 😡

Jadis smiles and then drops the smile as she sternly asks what Rick is doing and Rick just stares at her silently, clearly thinking “Not today, not tomorrow…

And that concludes episode 2 of TOWL. Another great episode that I thoroughly enjoyed. 👏🏽

After years of waiting for that Richonne reunion moment, it was perfection. And this ep made it ultra-clear that TOWL was about to just spoil us rotten because, in the very episode where they reunited, Richonne then has a scene between those vehicles that for me I enjoyed even more, after already adoring the initial reunion. Just gold on gold on gold. 🤩 And we still were just in the front half of the series.

It’s so fitting that Danai got praise from the media for her performance this ep cuz she knocked it out of the park conveying every emotion with such powerful sincerity. Her and Andy’s ability to bring Michonne and Rick to life is truly something special and every minute of their first scenes together as non-dream Richonne was excellent. They made it clear these two's love was still so magnetically alive and blazing. 🙌🏽😍

gif cred: @msanonships

As we now entered the middle of the miniseries - with trifling Jadis added to the mix you just knew things were only going to get more complicated. Especially because her arrival and threats usher in a very different Rick than the one who was convinced he and Michonne could get away together.

No, now Rick’s sole focus is on getting Michonne out of here alive even if it means without him. And well...we’ll see exactly how a certain Dana Bethune feels about that. 😅

During the first two riveting episodes of TOWL, Richonne spent a good chunk of it apart. From here on out they're together, but also have a lot to navigate to truly feel back together. There's a ton to unpack in these next eps, so y'all with these upcoming breakdowns...

Because TOWL's act two has everything. Humor, heartbreak, hunger, a helicopter hurl...

And most importantly, these next two episodes have a whole lot of Richonne gold. 😌👌🏽

[mins-fins]

shining star !

"shining star come into view.."

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

pairing: nct dream 00z x male!reader

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

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

word count: 16.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

his nod is paired with silence.

“and about this new.. project?”

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

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

“and the new.. member?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“an engineer formerly assigned to siberies”.

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

“doyoung does what doyoung does”.

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

“you’re too good with people”.

your responding laughter is laced with elation.

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

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

it was always just you two before all of this.

“why do you think space?”

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

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

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

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

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

“human inquiry”.

“hm”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

jaemin simply shares another formidable smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but he’s still somewhat bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“another hand?”

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

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

“yep, have control of it and everything”.

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

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

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

“donghyuck, it’s nice to meet you”.

and really, it was.

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

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

ah, so you two have that kind of relationship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you promised him, you promised him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he? so it’s a boy?”

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

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

“what?”

“your dedication to this project”.

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

“is that it for tonight?”

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

“not even a couple of hours?” 

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

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

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

you hum in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sure, good night jaemin”.

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

“good night y/n”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but here he is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you gonna give it a name?”

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

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

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

“okay, so what do you have in mind?”

“are you gonna tell donghyuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it’s last minute!”

terrible fucking excuse, renjun’s nose crinkles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the name rolls off the tongue rather well.

“why jisung?”

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

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

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

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

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

“devotion to who?”

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

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

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

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

not important to the mission.

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

he knows better than to ruin such a beautiful thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“see? like a child”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you sure?”

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

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

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

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

maybe he’s giving himself too much credit..

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

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

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

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

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

“yes or no?”

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

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

a hum is the response you receive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what are you reading?”

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

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

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

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

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

“oh.. um, fine”.

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

“are you programmed to notice things like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“..no”.

“but you seem upset”.

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

fuck.

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

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

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

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

“y/n loves everything he creates”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

okay, maybe jisung isn’t that bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

jeno guesses he’s pretty adorable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“they can go hand in hand”.

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

you snort. “don’t give me demands”.

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

“enough of that, how’s my baby?”

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

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

“why do you work all the time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you exceeded them, you’re exceptional”.

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

“take the compliment”.

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

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

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

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

“you’re really trying to sell that”.

“it’s true, isn’t it?”

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

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

it’s funny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he stops himself before he can get any closer.

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

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

“do you want for me to use force?”

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

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

“creep”.

jaemin sticks out his tongue as a response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m not the one he wants”.

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

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

what the fuck.

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

“..alright”.)

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

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

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

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

“god fuck this”.

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

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

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

“he’ll be fine”.

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

and clearly, neither will you.

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

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

jisung’s first communication falls on a sunday.

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

<<< …happy birthday donghyuck!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<<< [IMAGE ATTACHED]

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

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

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

<<< the stars are really beautiful right now!

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

<<< remember?

<<< did jaemin lose his ring yet?

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

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

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

the words aren’t spoken, simply dissolved.

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

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

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

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

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

you don’t respond, simply blink once again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i hope not, i—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<<< my battery is getting low.

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

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

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

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

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

he leaves the question without comment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“too much caffeine, i might go crazy”.

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

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

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

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

i won’t give up on him.

we won’t give up on him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what is that supposed to mean!?”

“jisungie is calling you boring nana”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he simply needed this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

tonight, aquarius is in the night sky. aquarius is one of your favorite constellations (but now that jeno thinks about it, all of them seem to be your favorite). jisung has never been able to see it, he left for jupiter before the constellation would be present in the sky, but both you and jaemin made sure to inform him of its existence, with him being an aquarius.

jeno disappointedly watches as the hope quickly dissipates from both your and jaemin’s expressions the longer days go without a message from jisung. you haven’t given up just yet, you’ll never give up on jisung, you told jeno that yourself.

project apollo remains running, the spacecraft is all intact, but there hasn’t been an update on jisung at all. the visible unhappiness gracing your features is upsetting, jeno can’t recall the last time you were so down, your usual cheerfulness no longer around to comfort him.

donghyuck tries his best, managing to squeeze a few well deserved giggles out of you. there seems to be something off with jaemin, he avoids eye contact with you in the most not jaemin like way possible, strange. in contrast to him, renjun is much more.. well.. willing to approach.

really, jeno guesses it must be obvious by now, and jeno doesn’t just mean renjun. he means him, donghyuck, jaemin, all of them alike, they don’t have to repeat it for all of them to know how it feels.

donghyuck has slowly hinted to jeno over the years since he’s joined, but he never acts upon it. jeno never knew why, he always thought the headstrong, perverse donghyuck would take up such a challenge, yet he never attempted. he assumed that you and donghyuck would be a pretty good match.

but he only ever thought that because he assumed it would quell his own jealousy.

renjun could never hide it well enough, his easy blushing stuttering words gave it away pretty quickly. it wasn’t even a week after his initial arrival that he probably realized.

jaemin.. jaemin was always the hardest to decode for jeno. maybe the bonding over robots, and by proxy, the creation of jisung, was what caused the enchantment. jeno can’t even find it in himself to be possessive or jealous of any sort, he just.. gets it. jaemin is captivated by every single one of your actions, jeno has never been able to share such a feeling with a person.

renjun’s cheek presses against the window, gaze trained on the barely visible stars in the sky. you hum the familiar tune of ‘shining star’ by earth wind and fire, engrossed in the song you’ve become so accustomed to. jeno knows why, he recalls you uttering; “it’s a classic, got me through university and this stupid internship..”

jeno finds your descriptions of things, even the things that usually don’t matter, to be so beautiful.

“words are just so great, you know? i can call anything pretty, beautiful, amazing, prepossessing, it’s just so.. fitting”.

jeno adores you, adores your heart and your soul and your fondness towards the weirdest of adjectives.

jeno taps in rhythm with your humming, the lyrics aren’t sung, but he can still picture them in his mind.

you’re a shining star

no matter who you are

shining bright to see

what you could truly be

you’re a shining star..

“should we go stargazing?”

instantly donghyuck perks up, his hair all over the place. jeno chuckles at the sight, reaching over to put at least some of the strands back in place. “what time is it?” he mumbles, staring down at his bare wrist, no watch in sight.

“twenty minutes to midnight” jaemin replies, glancing over at the window, squinting in an attempt to get a better view of the constellations. “doesn’t seem like a bad idea”.

“aquarius is in the night sky”.

right, renjun’s constellation knowledge is easily comparative to yours. you slip on a sweater as you tap donghyuck on the shoulder, then intertwining your fingers with jeno’s. “oh don’t tell me we’re going to sneak up?”

there’s a fitting expression of amusement gracing your features, but you don’t respond, simply humming.

jaemin doesn’t put up much of a fight, renjun seems enthralled by such an idea, jeno is aware that he often sneaks up onto the roof to watch the stars from time to time, donghyuck makes brash comments every few minutes, but it’s clear he doesn’t care, sneaking around is probably his favorite past time (jeno knows much more than he wishes to).

“shit, much colder than i thought it would be” jaemin mutters, again avoiding eye contact with you as you give a small chuckle. “jisung would complain”.

“why do you sound annoyed? you’re the one who programmed that!”

“i didn’t! he just naturally does that! he’s like a child..”

you push at jaemin’s shoulder, yelping as you watch him stumble. donghyuck snorts, pointing at the sight with pure amusement. “please don’t die, you know doyoung would be pissed” jeno whispers, jaemin stays glaring (but can it even be called a glare with the love behind his eyes?)

renjun keeps his hands settled in his lap as he stares upward. “really? only because doyoung would be pissed?”

“you know he doesn’t want any bad associated with the lab’s name”.

“if only he knew” donghyuck clicks his tongue, tilting his head as he rubs his eyes.

jeno’s squint, and his lips take an upturn. he can just barely make out the shape of a water bearer in the sky, someone pouring water out of a jug. huh, aquarius really is pretty.

the shine from the stars reflects in your widened pupils. you blink, then you snicker at something unsaid. “think jisung would like this one..”

jeno’s eyebrows furrow, yet he keeps his face still, still enough that you won’t pick up on the falter of his expression. you hum once again, swinging your legs back and forth.

“i miss him”.

it’s an admittedly strange claim. everybody knows already, the honesty shouldn’t be a surprising factor. there’s less of a tremble in your tone and more of a simple scratch, a rasp in your voice which can be attributed to your days spent staring at a control screen with no reply.

jeno leans against you, letting the warmth encapsulate him as he watches you smile peripherally. jaemin merely sighs, clearly sharing such emotions.

jeno’s smile grows when you nudge him, pointing upward at a shooting star.

“pretty huh?”

jeno doesn’t respond, not exactly focused on the stars, just you.

[idv-sunsxin3]

Pavia, Diggers // Car Ride

Note // Same prompt as the one with Horropedia except is with the other 2 glasses sillies (separately) this time/ lh

Warning// a bit suggestive on Pavia's part??? Maybe.

____

(When he's driving)

Guys, we should make a debate in where Pavia either drives on a Lamborghini or a Ferrari/j

There are times he drives normally for the sake of keeping a low profile at times... and there are time when he is a fast driver, not more said.

Would most likely get a speeding ticket... well, if the officers ever managed to catch him. 😭

Even if he doesn't put seatbelt on himself, he would be the type of lover who would nag you to put them on-

(not like you're complaining as you grip on something as if your life depends on you;;;/ih)

He likes to linger his hand on your thigh and give it a squeeze whenever he drives- crazy.

He would do the same when so much traffic happens, to at least subside his frustration on the road. Italian cursing at how long it's taking;;; definitely the grumpy driver type.

Sometimes, he likes to put bags underneath your legs during the ride, saying that "it's safe if it doesn't shake around"-

But no!!! In reality, he does that just so he can grab one of your legs and spread it open before reaching out, whatever he needs to take out - this man.... 😭

The good side of it is that Pavia's 5 wolves are often tagged along as they sit on the back seat--- Pavia for some reason helps them open the windows sometimes so they can stick their head and stick out their tongues while the car moves- its a very funny sight when it's 5 dogs in both windows of the car;;;;😭🤣

The wolves are at least trained enough to be careful- and they would know when to get their heads back in whenever Pavia warns them that he'll roll up the windows again with the power window switch.

"Hold on tight, baby~ this will be a pretty bumpy ride."😈

If you really appreciate your life a lot, you might as well ask if you both can just take a taxi./lh

Yet i feel like knowing him, he won't take no as an answer;;; <//3

____

(When he's a passenger)

Mmm if he ever is in a car ride with you along with other party members Vertin assigned, he probably wouldn't like the fact how close he is to touch other people during the entire ride---- even if he doesn't show it, I guess the menacing death smirk might give it away(it does).

As long as it's just you beside him, he won't be too salty about it--

He won't give you a break from how clingy he is tho- he wouldn't keep his hands to himself if he's not the one taking the wheel;;;;

Pulling you close, sneaking a hand on your knee, make you cuddle against him, have his chest touch your back as he whispers flirty Comments on your ear- technically trying to make others get third wheeled and calling them single in many different ways;;; 😭

Like Horropedia, he's most likely the "are we there yet" passenger....---- except in a more grumpy impatient vibe as if he doesn't want to stay in this vehicule any longer--- he's not burning it down just because you're here/ih

"Come on, little girl...- How long do we have to stay in this car?"

The Italian grumbles, trying to get his sly hands busy by playing with your hair a bit through his calloused fingers. His arm is resting heavily on your shoulder.

"Soon." That's what the young girl answers with a calm tone, already used to the intimidating energy the older one tends to bring.

Pavia ends up leaning his back into the cushion, sighing as you tiredly pat him by the shoulder. The small gesture of comfort is unknown if it is playful or sincere.

Suddenly, the other seems to have other plans. He catches you off guard by lifting you smoothly with his hands on your waist before placing you between his lap.

He whispers on your ear, a quiet voice with a hint of rasp and longing.

"Stay close to me for now, so I don't have to talk to these poor teammates here...-"

____

(When he's driving)

Diggers driving an old-fashioned volkswagen that has a lot of colorful graffiti paint all over it seems very in character, in my opinion. He even has this colorful van decorated with a lot of stuff in his insight 2-- Which was what most hippies drove before.

Not only is it affordable and durable, but it's also spacious in the back that he can make it as a comfy place to rest.... which is also where you usually nap together or have these quiet cuddling sessions.🥺♥️

He usually keeps the vehicule in a peaceful area where it's not near the city, like a grassfield or in the middle of a forest.

I'm not sure if he'll be a full licensed driver, but I feel like he would drive at a less extreme speed for the sake of  stress--- prefers to drive and see how empty the road is and how peaceful the landscape would be- rural areas specifically.

And when he finds the perfect spot to settle, you would stay there for the night or even a couple of days.

Diggers probably like acoustic music or something that gives a "groovy" impression. Yet, he is very flexible enough to let you go crazy with the radio box- pick a song, or music, whatever hat interests you--- whether he knows the tune or not, he might try to sing along and enjoy the different kinds of vibes with you djdbdbdb-

-

You and Diggers plan to move the van out to another rural field within london- most likely a village your boyfriend seems to have known.

The moment you finished packing what you need at the back of the van, Diggers calls you back from the driver seats window.

"Darling! You're done?" The voice of your boyfriend resembles one of an ecstatic puppy.

"Yeah!"

"Come inside!"

As you were about to hop into the passenger seat- you got surprised by a.... big pile of flowers sitting on your seat???

Oop- some of them fell off the moment you opened the door.

"I- what??? What is this???" You laugh softly, already imagining the jolly grin Diggers might be wearing from the other side of the mountain of flowers.

The pile looks like they're 100 roses.

"Oops--- forgot to give you these. Surprise!" He bubbly says as he leans on the steering wheel lazily.

"...." You pause, sighing out after recovering from the laughter, "Oh g-  thanks, baby-- but how can I even see your face like this??? Where do i sit???" 🤣

As if the option of the back seat was out of the window, Diggers responded:

"How about my lap?"

You both now started laughing again like the dorks you are,,,/lh

____

(When he's a passenger)

He's most likely the type to play some tunes on his guitar, entertaining and serenading those who surround him as he sits in the vehicle

Is actually very nice that he gets to go somewhere without worrying about the gasoline cost-- /ih

He'll be fine sitting anywhere- but he'll be more pleased if he gets to sit right next to you- where he believes he should be <33

He'll have an arm behind your neck while chilling, sometimes holding hands just to play with your fingers while talking to someone.

Maybe even spend the entire car ride trying to teach how to play the guitar- having you on his lap as he guides your hands on where to place the strings. 🤭🥰

He would be most likely a tolerable passenger, a pretty peaceful one. He'll  even would try and nap the entire ride if he can.

Though, whenever he spots a police car passing by through the window- I can imagine him immediately crouching so he doesn't get spotted, very self-conscious by the fact there are some officers looking after him,,, maybe;;; <//3

He trusts any driver as long as it's anyone that is not Pavia.... Convince me otherwise--- 😭

He would freak out and scream when the speed is too high- even cling on to you.

His grip is firm that you don't even know whether he is trying to hold on to you so he doesn't get thrown off or because he wants to cover you from any incoming crashes---/ih

You'll have to comfort him a bit after that;;

.

.

.

I'll never forget about the drive thru headcanons <333

//Them ordering take out at a McDonald's drive thru with s/o. If you don't eat McDonald's, just imagine it/ih

___

//Pavia//

Arches eyebrow... and wearing this look of "pookie, out of other restaurants, you decide one of the most low-quality ones???"/ih

Also not him having beef by the fact the ice cream in McDonald's sucks- the machine is even broken in almost every restaurant--- sobs;;;

At the end, he brought you there anyways, because you made him/ih

The reason why he would buy you a happy meal is probably because you're baby--- you don't even know if it's sweet or insulting./ih 😭🫠

Whenever you want to order but the cashier cant hear you when he's the one who's in the driver seat- I can imagine you guys with this meme./ih

Pavia is creepily respectful enough to keep this funny straight look while technically facing your butt, it's crazy;;; 2x

Next time, Pavia will drag you to somewhere better now that you finished dragging him to such "monstrosity of creepy clowns, grimace shakes, and broken ice cream machines"/j. More better than Olive Garden even---;;;

___

//Diggers//

"Ehhhh-- what would you like to order, sweetie?" :)

"Anything is alright."

"...."

"....."

*turns back to the window* "1 hamburger, 2 French fries- and a milkshake, please." :)

Most hippies don't seem to like materialism- but food is food, he wouldn't even dare to say no to if you want to order food at places like McDonalds dbbdbdnd;;; Like, most prices there were like less than $1 (plus tax) back in the 1960s...- 🤔🤯

(I feel like you would boss out of this by paying for him at times- like this is probably better than the McDonald's from 2020s/ih)

Man, happy meals were only first introduced in 1979- so they weren't a thing yet for a while in Diggers' timeline. If they ever get premiered, He would buy you one for you whether or not you like it- he just likes how there are chicken nuggets and juice boxes inside colorful boxes that seem to be meant for children-- yet for him, it doesn't matter. You will have it anyway, even if he's broke;;😭🥺

The first boxes when they were first introduced were circus wagons. The first toys were tops, stencils, wallets, puzzles, and erasers. Initially, meals included a hamburger or cheeseburger, fries, a soft drink, and cookies.... yum.

Pampering you with food is one of the wholesome things I can imagine - even eating it while being inside his van at some parking lot. Feeding each other with these silly dorky grins,,,,

[yanderes-galore]

Hi again! For pokemon, could you do a rivalry-ish situation, with an overprotective platonic Genesect with it's trainer, versus a romantic yandere Ghetsis, please? And reader is very wary of him, and doesn't trust him at all. Thank you!

I'll try my best, sure!

Overprotective! Genesect vs Yandere! Ghetsis

Pairing: Platonic (Genesect)/Romantic (Ghetsis)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Kidnapping, Threats of injury, Attempted murder, Isolation, Forced relationship/Dubious companionship.

Genesect was a Pokemon altered and created by Team Plasma.

As a result, it most likely hates humans/Team Plasma.

An idea of how this dynamic can go is this...

Genesect escapes the labs of Team Plasma and finds you.

You are a Pokemon Trainer who is collecting Gym Badges with your friends, so essentially a role similar to the Black & White protagonists.

You fight against Team Plasma whenever you can, which catches the eye of Ghetsis.

When Genesect meets you, it watches from the bushes for awhile.

It doesn't trust humans after what it went through... so it observes how you interact with your own Pokemon companions.

Eventually Genesect may jump out of hiding and attack you.

Despite your fear you prove yourself in battle, tossing a ball at the strange Pokemon by the end of it.

This is how Genesect becomes your Pokemon.

It takes time to get used to you, but upon seeing how your other Pokemon act around you... it feels comforted.

You aren't a bad human.

In fact, soon Genesect begins to rely on you and listens to you in battle.

You find the Pokemon interesting and may even assume its origin is Team Plasma related.

It's a Bug Type... but also oddly cybernetic.

It's unique... but you care for it all the same.

Now, Ghetsis originally saw you as a nuisance.

You keep foiling his plans like some sort of vigilante.

Although... his interest increases when he sees you with the escaped Genesect.

You've managed to tame the living weapon to work for you.

He grows intrigued by your bond yet also hates it... and now finds himself with a new obsession over you.

Ghetsis finds you... attractive and powerful due to your team.

With Genesect under your control he finds some admiration for you within him.

Yet you are very wary of the Team Plasma leader...

Genesect even shows aggression towards Team Plasma members, another factor adding to your theory on its origin.

You don't trust Ghetsis, he's too charismatic for his own good.

When he talks to you he's very manipulative, always tempting you to join him.

Why fight him? He can give you power if you join.

When you disagree or Genesect defends you... Ghetsis feels fury burning within him.

You always manage to slip through his grasp.

He has a feeling Genesect is helping you, too.

He can't get anywhere near you without the threat of being shot by Genesect's cannon.

Genesect has a feeling Ghetsis is trying to do something with you.

It fears that he may be trying to experiment on or hurt you... so it defends you with its life.

Ghetsis doesn't intend on harming you... when he has you, at least.

Until he gets you in his arms he doesn't care how much harm comes to you.

Due to how deranged Ghetsis can be... he could break a limb on you or knock you out cold until he gets what he wants.

But when he has you he'll isolate you away... treat your wounds... and keep you to himself.

When he has you in his grasp he'll even take control of Genesect.

After all, that Pokemon has caused enough damage anyways.

But if Genesect oversteps... well... Ghetsis could always just have it killed.

After all... such a Pokemon has kept him away from his beloved.

Genesect can try its best to defend you... but Ghetsis will find away around the issue.

Ghetsis will have you in the end... he promises that...

Even if he has to squash a bug and you come to him broken.

[maenecoon]

i may or may not have a reverse kidnapping fic idea that i've been brewing up the past week or so -- just deciding how things will go and how i should proceed with some stuff but here's a teeny snippet!

(for context: chay is a low-level gang member that has been hired to kidnap wik. chay doesn't know wik is kimhant theerapanyakun, aka third son of the most powerful crime syndicate in thailand. so that's fun!!)

Chay and Wik, trapped in a three-by-two-meter space.

Soon, the engine starts with a low hum, and the truck starts to move. Wik’s slump figure, seated against the side of the wall, lolls his head toward the metal flooring. Without a thought Chay’s fingers curl around his idol’s unnecessarily-toned bicep, tipping him to rest against Chay’s shoulders instead.

“You're too pretty to get hurt, P’Wik,” Chay mutters, as though he isn't part of the group who’s put Wik in this situation to begin with. Sighing a soft apology, he picks up the rope and starts attempting to tie.

Wik’s hands are rough, the backs of them littered with veins bulging in ways enough to make Chay blush, the soft of his palms filled with guitar callouses and other blisters. He holds them for a few moments, letting himself indulge in the fantasy of itー it's all so fucked up that this is the way he's finding out how Wik’s hand feels against his.

Shame burns bright and hot in the space between their palms and Chay jerks his hand away, moving to grip his wrists instead. Still he struggles to hold them together with one hand as he loops the rope around them with his other hand, fingers clumsy and slow.

[denimbex1986]

'It should come as no surprise that Russell T Davies, the man behind Queer As Folk, the one who first made Doctor Who tangibly gay, has returned to the franchise with what might be its queerest outing yet. But even we were surprised by quite how integral LGBTQ+ themes would be to the story this time around.

Much has been made of David Tennant and Catherine Tate's return, yet it's Yasmin Finney's brand-new character Rose who's at the heart of this Star Beast special.

Donna's daughter befriends The Meep first, and she's also the one who saves London when The Meep reveals itself to be evil. What's special about this is that it's Rose's trans identity specifically that proves key to her victory.

When we last saw her mother, Donna had absorbed some of the Doctor's energy, creating a 'metacrisis' that would have killed her if the Doctor had not erased her memories. But when she's reminded again of the Time Lord's existence in this latest episode, Donna survives intact, and that's because when she gave birth to Rose, she unknowingly split that energy between them, halving their potentially devastating impact.

As Donna's memories return, Rose's innate Timelord energy is then activated too, enabling her to stop Meep with newfound knowledge and abilities from her position on the ground.

Rose's non-binary identity stems from The Doctor's. (The show finally acknowledges them to be gender-fluid after they presented as both male and female over the course of the franchise). That means the source of Rose's power comes directly from her nature as a non-binary individual, positioning her as a hero because of her gender identity and not despite of it.

That's not to say Doctor Who shies away from the difficulties trans people face in real life. Earlier on in the same episode, bullies deadname Rose in the street and soon after, Donna's own mother, Sylvia, accidentally misgenders Rose as well, despite her good intentions.

Donna's response to all this? "I would burn down the world for you, darling," and honestly, that's how we feel after seeing some of the negative feedback these scenes have received online.

Despite scoring strong reviews from critics and the majority of fans, it seems not everyone is celebrating Doctor Who's much-lauded return.

On Rotten Tomatoes, trolls are review-bombing the episode, bringing the audience score down to 41%, which is a huge contrast from the critics rating of 89%. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and the episode won't be to everyone's tastes, but when comments suggest the show 'needs to stop pushing talk of pronouns onto kids', it's safe to say most of these opinions are grounded in hate and ignorance.

Imagine being shocked that a show about an alien who regularly changes their body and gender would dare acknowledge such concepts?

In the days following the special, a hashtag named #RIPDoctorWho continued this backlash on X/Twitter, to which Doctor Who casting director Andy Pryor said the following:

"Just stopped by to say that on @bbcdoctor who (or any of our work) we don't work hard to cast inclusively for publicity. We do it because we like stories. & stories should speak to all of us & include all of us. And if one person feels a little less alone, then."

With more queer cast members on the way, including Neil Patrick Harris as the villainous Toymaker and Ncuti Gatwa as the new face of The Doctor himself, the future of Doctor Who is looking queerer by the day.

But it's not just the future that's queer.

To those who baulk at more inclusivity in future seasons, we can't help but wonder: What show have you been watching this whole time? Because Doctor Who is super queer — and it always has been.

Yes, even before Jack Harkness slapped a guy's arse or Bill Potts fell for a puddle named Heather, the Classic era channeled queerness with how it defied the establishment and stood up for those who need it most. It's hard to exaggerate how much stories like this resonated with LGBTQ+ people at a time when positive representation was almost non-existent on screen.

It's no wonder then that a sizeable chunk of Doctor Who's fandom identifies as queer, even if the show wasn't able to address LGBTQ+ fans directly until (queer lifelong fan) Russell T Davies regenerated the franchise in 2005.

But now, all these years later, The Star Beast ushers in a new chapter for Doctor Who where the show can finally live up to the inclusive ethos it's always striven for.

That's not to diminish the positive steps other showrunners have taken in the interim. 2015's 'Sleep No More' featured Doctor Who's first trans actress, Bethany Black, and season twelve's 'Praxeus' successfully flipped the 'Bury Your Gays' trope, although the less said about how season 13 handled #Thasmin the better.

And it's not like everything is suddenly perfect now. Rose's metacrisis abilities could feed into sci-fi tropes around trans/non-binary identities being considered "alien", plus the inclusion of Rose's deadname has garnered a mixed response from the trans community online.

While some argue this has given trolls the opportunity to use that name venomously against her character, others point out that transphobia is a reality the show shouldn't shy away from.

The moment when Rose calls the Doctor out for assuming Meep's pronouns might feel a bit-on-the-nose for some too, although if this kind of talk immediately heralds the end of the franchise for you, you might want to cast your mind back a few decades to 1972's 'The Curse of Peladon' where the Doctor and Jo discussed Alpha Centauri's pronouns at length.

But still, seeing trans and non-binary identities celebrated to this degree is very much welcome regardless, especially in a family show with such a huge fanbase like Doctor Who. This is the kind of storytelling that saves lives, trolls be damned.

And now, with the impending arrival of more trans actors and characters in Yasmin Finney's wake — including Jinkx Monsoon, Mary Malone and Pete MacHale — Doctor Who's next season promises to be more inclusive than ever before.

If you have a problem with that, remember that your hero, the good Doctor, would never discriminate against trans people, or any other marginalised group for that matter either. So why would you?'

[ballerinainskzville]

OT8 when they’re sick, skz

Bangchan: refuses to rest with all his power. “Baby, you’re not missing out on anything if you take a nap. You can’t continue working like this”, you’d argue with him and he would disagree. “There’s still so much to do!”, he’d disagree. “You have the next 4 comebacks planned out, missing out on one day doesn’t hurt anybody” He then would only give up and go to bed to about further upsetting and worrying you. Would fall asleep instantly and snore, tiredness taking him in

Lee Know: he’d be his usual teasing self, just less energy. You’d make him chicken soup to feel better and he’d pretend like it’s too sour. But end up eating multiple bowls. Even sick, he’s requested all of your attention. “Promise me to look after my kids when I die”, he’d say before he’s going to sleep.

“Lino, you’re not dying”

“Who can guarantee that I wake up? I need to know my kids are taken care of”

“What about me?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. The kids are important”

“So I’m not important?”

“I didn’t say that”

Changbin: would require tons and tons of cuddles. One big whiny teddy bear that wants to be looked after but would hate making you do something for him like cooking soup. You’d still make one and he’d compliment you over and over, expressing his gratitude for having you in his life and what he’d do if you weren’t his girl. Debated with you if going for a light walk as exercise would be good for him. Ending up watching action movies.

Hyunjin: definition of whiny would carry his name. Lots of dramatic sighs and complaints. He’d want you to stay further away in case you’d get sick too but stay in the same room. You’d read a book and he’d draw you reading. He’d sneeze and drag his pen accidentally along the page, ruining the sketch. Annoyed, he’d put the sketch block away. His furrowed brows would only soften once you shuffle closer and scoop him up in a tight hug into which he’d melt. “I want to kiss you but I don’t want you to get sick”

“Then get better soon”

“Ha, that’s a good idea. Never thought of it”

“I’m a genius, I know”

“If that makes you feel better about yourself”

“Shut up, Hyun”

“Make me”

“I can’t. You’re sick so I can’t kiss you”

He’d pucker up his lips in an attempt to steal a kiss.

Jisung: he would have trouble asking you to look after him. First, he’d pretend like he’s only tired and needs sleep. Waking up with a fever, he’d panic about what to do and ask you for advice. You’d then sit by his bed, wiping his face, neck, and arms with wet cloths to calm him down after giving him some medicine. He’d sigh with closed eyes and apologize over and over for being sick. You’d make him a light meal and soup and you’d end up watching his (secretly) favorite Barbie movie

Felix: similar to Jisung, he’d pretend like he isn’t sick at all to avoid you worrying about him. Until he begins to burn up and feel nauseous, admitting he needs to lie down because he’s not feeling well. You’d sit next to him, holding his hand while he’s sleeping, playing with his hair while you’re admiring the Star constellations on his face. He’d jerk up awake and then a sigh of the warmth. Feeling vulnerable while he’s sick, he refuses to change out of his sweaty clothes until you assure him that it’s fine and that he’s in trusting hands. Yours. He’d then let you help him and change into fresh clothes with your help before laying down again.

Seungmin: he’d ask you to stop by the pharmacy to grab some medicine. Asking if one of the members is sick, he’d simply say it’s for him. To prevent you from falling ill too, he’d ask you to stay in another room but you’re at each other to catch up on the day. He’d lay in bed, his eyes taking up most of the screen while you’re sitting on the couch of the living room. He’d quiz you to distract himself from nausea and talk until he’d fall asleep over ft. You’d end the call and make him some soup to eat once he’s up again.

Jeongin: he’d ask you if the certain headache is normal and when you’d disagree, he’d simply say “then I’m sick”. Would tell you not to worry and stay home but you’d come over to his dorm to look after him too. He’d have weird food requests, his stomach still hungry as always, and would tell you to just order the food under his name instead of bothering to cook. Which you’d still do. He’d compliment your cooking and apologize for being sick. Feeling bad that you’re looking after him when you were supposed to have a date at the arcade.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 3

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, non-explicit dubcon, panic attacks, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 6k

ao3 link

Masterlist

The Hinterlands wasn’t the worst place in the world. It was warmer than the snow covered mountain she was relegated to most of the time, so she certainly enjoyed that. She didn’t have to wear layers and layers of fur and thus could actually move properly which was a novelty to her at this point. 

It was quite pretty too. She loved the lakes and rivers when things were calm. 

The bears in the Hinterlands were not her favorite. She always brought someone sturdy to send off after them while she stayed far away from the creatures. 

The demons were certainly unpleasant, but that came with the territory when she was the only person that could close their entrance to this world.

It was the sheer quantity of violent humans running around that really got to her. Templars in all colors and mages and venatori and the carta, half of them fighting both each other and her. 

She’d take a hundred unthinking bears over them. 

Her worst fear was getting captured. 

Of course, she would give the Inquisition up in a second and convert fully to the side of whoever captured her, she knew that much. But that wasn’t something she could recover from in the eyes of her current allies and the last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of a force as powerful as the Inquisition who wanted her as badly as they did. 

Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. 

In the meantime, they wandered. Cassandra was ready to fight anything, practically begging someone to come up to her. 

That meant being loud and noticeable in a way that was clearly meant to draw attention. 

In the end, they watched Cassandra fight a bear. 

Varric helped, she supposed. He fired off arrows as quickly as his mechanical crossbow allowed him to. 

Rosemary did not help, but then again, what could she do? She wasn’t equipped to fight anything, let alone a bear. 

Cole was up in a tree. When Varric tried to figure out what he was doing, the only response he could pull from him was, “She needs to fight. She needs to know she’s a protector. She doesn’t need my help. I would make it worse, another thing to watch.”

“You’re not a thing, kid,” Varric said as he notched another arrow. 

“She thinks I am.”

“She’s just scared,” Varric tried to reassure him, even as distracted as he was. 

“Yes. Lots of people are scared. I don’t know how to make them stop.”

Despite Cassandra being the one fighting the bear face to face, Varric managed to deal the killing blow with a swift arrow between the ribs. “None of us do.”

They plodded off again after that. 

Her feet were already tired, still unaccustomed to the long treks that being a member of the Inquisition required of her. She wished she had a more sedentary power, or perhaps wished that they could bring the rifts back to her. 

And then, as they stomped along and imagined a world where she didn't have to wander around in bear infested woods, her least favorite thing happened. They found a rift. 

There was something genuinely incredible about them, if you didn’t know how truly dangerous they were. The way it hung in the open sky, a rip in the clear void of the air. The green glow curled at the edges, like it was trying to grab onto the empty air for purchase. 

As soon as they got close enough, its defenses sprung up and all hell broke loose.

Her power didn’t work if she was too far away, so instead, every time they found one, she found the best hiding spot she could and hunkered down, praying her companions would protect her. 

She felt even more exposed than usual. She realized that she’d foolishly forgotten a mage and thus, no one here could cast a protective barrier around her. Likewise, with only one warrior, and a relatively small one at that, she didn’t have a particularly good human shield. 

Varric tried his best, but he was a distance fighter. It wasn’t his fault. 

Cassandra was overwhelmed. One bear was fine, she could focus her attention and do what needed to be done. But here she was too split, with half a dozen demons swarming them. She couldn’t cover Rosemary properly and fight. So she made the choice anyone would. She focused all her attention on the fighting and Rosemary sunk back further behind the rock she’d found that was barely half her size. 

And then Cole looked down at her, making herself small on the floor; he looked at the other two, overwhelmed by demons; and he sprung into action. 

It was mesmerizing to watch. The way he flickered in and out of existence in some sort of cosmic dance, daggers shining in the sun. Each strike was perfectly placed, causing more damage than inelegant swords and spells ever could

He was right. The boy could fight. 

And fight he did. 

Rosemary’s arms rose to cover her head, praying to whatever god these idiots believed in that she’d make it out of this alive. She couldn’t remember what the god’s name was, but she figured she was more likely to respond in this new land so it was worth a shot. 

The chaos began to die down and she peeked out to see a disheveled but alive Varric. 

She rose shakily to her feet, leaning on the rock as she did. 

And then a bright green flickering silhouette appeared in front of her, shaped exactly like a wraith, and she fell back into soft soil.  

Cole drew back into focus out of the green as she breathed unsteady breaths. 

She could see his face like this, from below. It looked unnervingly blank, as it always did. It was like he didn’t know how to paint emotions across it, blank not in a carefully studied way as hers often was, but instead blank in an innocent, unknowing way. 

He just stared down at her, not so much as lifting a hand out to help her up. 

His brows furrowed. “Can you not stand on your own? I thought you just did.”

She stood once more with a sigh. “It’s just polite.”

She raised her hand to the now unprotected rift, focusing on the strange power the fade had implanted into her palm a year ago. 

As she did, the tear in the fade began to close, returning from a green tinged void back to endless clear. 

She flexed her hand as the rift finally sealed itself. It stung a little to close them, leaving a dull ache behind for a few hours after each use. It felt like it had been lasting longer and she worried, not for the first time, that this was doing real damage to her. 

But there was nothing to be done about it. She’d tried to wriggle her way out of this countless times, but it was the one thing they would not budge on. Those rifts needed to be closed, at the expense of her comfort or not. 

“Do they know it hurts?” Cole asked, and she wondered why he didn’t already know the answer to his own question. 

Cassandra scrunched up her nose. “What hurts?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, more ill-tempered than she ever let them see her. 

“The mark,” said Cole. “It burrows into her, aches and rots. The fade isn’t meant to go in a girl, it’s too big for her.”

Cassandra looked like she only mostly understood what he was talking about. “We all have sacrifices we must make to do our part.”

Rosemary did her best to nod amiably, a deep resentment settling in her chest. 

“C’mon Rosie,” Varric said, pulling her to the side. “I’ll see if I can help with that.”

He gave her a salve that didn’t help. She told him it did but made it very clear that she was putting on a false, brave face. 

He gave her a clap on the shoulder and told her she was good as new. 

She was glad Cole didn’t decide to speak up.

They continued plodding along, facing off against a few groups of hostile mages and warriors but no more demons. 

Cole seemed thrilled about the whole ordeal. After fighting a small squadron of mages, he rooted around in one of the corpses’ pockets, clearly looking for something. 

A moment later, he held up a note half covered in blood. “Brothers, tired of fighting. Their hands remember holding each other, their mouths remember smiling. Their cheeks draw up but it never feels the same anymore. He wondered if he was missed when he was struck down, knew he wasn’t. He knew incorrectly,” he announced. “We should give it to him, it wants to be given.”

“If you find who it’s for on the way, you can give it to him then,” she tried to reason with him. 

“He’s behind us. He wonders how his brother fared, terrified he’ll see him in the fight. We killed him. We have to give him the letter.”

“Listen,” she said, turning fully to face him. “If we don’t get moving, more people get hurt. We can deliver letters to grieving family members when people in the Hinterlands aren’t being attacked by demons and corrupted men anymore, alright?”

“Why do you try that on me? I can see inside. It’s for them, a performance. You would never deliver a letter. Their nobility wielded against me, because they want to help.”

It was a miracle Varric and Cassandra seemed as disinterested in these bizarre outbursts as they were. 

She dragged him along, trying to get him to stop saying incriminating things about her. She had to break the instinct to tell him white lies in an attempt to placate him. They were clearly doing more harm than good. 

As they continued along, Cole in a notably worse mood than before, they saw a farm in the distance and she smiled. Finally, some good news. They could acquisition some horses and then she’d be able to rest her feet and not have to walk for miles and miles. 

She walked into the farm house, explained who she was and who she was with, and asked incredibly nicely if they could spare some horses. 

And then they gave them a horse. One horse. For four people. 

Cassandra scoffed at the sight and she silently agreed. If it were just her, she would have stolen more, whether the farmers could spare them or not. But then again, if it had just been her, the one horse would have been fine. 

They took the horse anyway, figuring it was better than nothing. She silently told herself she could run off with it if things got truly dire, abandoning the rest of her party.

She could feel Cole’s eyes on the back of her head as she thought it, an involuntary shiver running through her.  

As they were leaving the farm, horse in tow, a panicked farmer approached the four of them. 

“Please,” he called out to them. “Our druffalo has gone missing. If you see her, could you return her to us? She's our prize animal, we need her.”

Cole’s head whipped around to face the farmer the second they started to speak. 

She’d already begun saying, “we’re incredibly busy,” as his head turned to her, eyes expectant and hopeful. 

The look did nothing to change her mind. 

And then they were off again. They were headed for real civilization this time. She didn’t even know this place had civilization.

Apparently the town was called Redcliffe and they were going to meet mages. It occurred to her for the second time that day that perhaps bringing a mage along would have been prudent. She thought she’d probably blocked that idea out because she could not stand Solas’s smug voice for another week. She’d almost strangled him last time. 

Surely there were other mages in Thedas that were willing to help. She would have taken anyone else. 

She supposed they were going to meet mages now. Maybe one of them loved trudging through the woods and casting protective spells around frightened, incompetent leaders. 

When they got to this town, however, the mages were nowhere to be found. Something about them being taken over. 

At least if the mages were taken over by the enemy, she had templars on her side. This is what they were trained to do, stop rebel mages. 

With no mages to confront, she turned to Varric for some guidance. 

He smiled and said, “Nothing else for it, I guess. Time to go to the tavern.”

She grinned at him, glad she’d brought him along. 

It wasn’t a very big tavern but then again, it wasn’t a very big town. It wasn’t truly small, those sorts of towns didn’t have taverns, just illegal, impossibly strong alcohol being manufactured in someone’s shed. 

Regardless of the size of the tavern, she was glad to be there. It was better than the woods. 

Varric ordered four drinks, handing one to her and Cassandra before turning to Cole. 

“How old are you anyways,” he asked, looking Cole up and down.

Cole looked at him vacantly. “Time passes differently in the fade, I don’t know. This body is twenty. Was twenty. He died.”

Varric nodded, giving Rosemary a pointed look. “Right. You can probably have a beer then. It’ll be good for you, put some hair on that chest.”

“A drink can give me hair?” he asked.

“Not literally. It’s a figure of speech.”

Cassandra eyed the exchange nervously. “I don’t think we should be giving a spirit anything to further lower its inhibitions. He’s already dangerous, the last thing we need is for him to be more unpredictable.”

Rosemary silently agreed, wanting nothing less than for Cole to develop loose lips about things he should be keeping secret.

Varric brushed the concern off. “It’ll be fine, relax a little.”

Cassandra seemed unconvinced. 

“How do I do it?” Cole asked as he looked down the drink.

“Just drink it,” Varric said, and she couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever drunk anything before. 

“But how?”

Varric laughed a big booming laugh and showed the spirit how drinking worked, chugging the whole thing in one fell swoop. 

Cole watched him carefully and then did his best to mimic it. As soon as the liquid entered his mouth he coughed, some of the beer spilling out of his nose.

“Why?” he sputtered out, and Cassandra groaned as Rosemary fought back a laugh.

His head jerked up at that, watching the smile get suppressed off her face in lieu of faux concern.

“You should let it through or your mouth might forget how to smile,” he said, and Varric seemed more concerned by that than he’d been by Cole choking.

“I smile plenty,” she said, the comment effectively souring her mood. 

“No. Real ones.”

She slammed back her drink, wishing Varric had gotten her something stronger.

But she never actually drank, not enough to get anywhere near drunk, it dulled her inhibitions too much. This spirit was really getting to her. 

Varric seemed unphased by the end of the interaction, though she could tell he was still very much interested in Cole. Meanwhile, Cassandra had wandered off. She’d never been one for taverns. 

Varric downed two more drinks before grabbing the pair of them from where they had been sitting, silently, at a table, neither of them doing much of anything. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find somewhere to sleep.”

Varric found an inn, which she didn’t mind. At least it had real beds inside.

Small town that it was, there were only two rooms available. Rosemary wondered if anyone else was staying here or if they only had two rooms in total. She supposed she’d never find out. 

Varric grabbed Cole, pulling him towards one of the rooms and sending her and Cassandra up to the other with a smile. 

Cassandra insisted she sleep on the floor while Rosemary got the bed. She made sure to protest just enough that it looked like she was putting up a fight while still getting to sleep on the soft mattress.

It was a restful night. At least for her. She happily would have stayed another night but she knew it wasn’t in the cards. 

Even if she pushed for another night, eventually they had to leave Redcliffe and then Rosemary was faced with another thing she hated about the Hinterlands. 

She had to camp. 

It was especially hard to stomach after getting to sleep in a big bed in a temperate climate. 

But they couldn’t stay forever, and so off they went. 

It would have been easier on horseback, but all they had was their lone horse and she couldn’t figure out a way to spin her being the only one riding. 

So they walked, leading a horse behind them through the endless woods and mountains. 

Varric sidled up beside her as they walked. “Did you know he doesn’t sleep?” He nodded his head off in Cole’s direction as he spoke. 

She turned to look at Cole, who was off in his own world, carefully placing one foot exactly in front of the other, almost like he was walking a tightrope. 

“I didn’t,” she said, “but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Me neither. Was hard to sleep with those owl eyes just staring at me though.”

She giggled. “I’m sure. Cassandra snores but at least I wasn’t being watched.”

“Small mercies.”

Cassandra huffed, coming back from the scouting mission she’d sent herself on. They all knew she just got antsy and needed to move, to feel like she was doing something. No one ever commented on it, allowing her the idiosyncrasy. 

Cole was not privy to this silent agreement. “You never find anything. Searching, scouring, seeking. You have to look, someone has to. Someone has to find nothing so they don’t find something.”

“Can someone shut him up?” Cassandra barked. 

Varric just laughed as Rosemary muttered, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Nonsense,” Varric announced. “You can’t get mad at the kid for being right.”

“I can get mad at him for whatever I’d like,” she said, and Cole watched her stomp off. 

“She needs to be mad. Being mad is strong. Being wrong isn’t. It’s alright to be wrong sometimes.”

“It sure is, kid,” Varric replied. “I think someone should tell her that. 

“I can do it,” he said, already taking a step towards her.

Varric caught him by the scruff of his jacket. “Better not.”

They got lost on their way back. 

It was a miracle it hadn’t happened before considering how massive this place was. It was bound to happen eventually. 

But now she was pretty sure they were off the edge of what was recorded on the map. She didn’t make any move to stop them, not wanting to argue with Cassandra, who was still leading them confidently forwards. 

When they entered some sort of tunnel in the stone of a mountain, she knew for certain they were in the wrong place. They were meant to be going back home, how could Cassandra honestly think that this tunnel they’d never seen before was the right way?

But insisting they were going the wrong way would be too assertive and she’d rather someone else take the blame when they did realize, even if it took a few more days before they got back. 

“The mind is unsure but the feet keep moving. It can’t be wrong if they keep moving,” Cole said as he stepped out of the arched pathway. 

Cassandra turned to look at him before facing the front once more, barking back at him, “What does that mean?”

“You know, Seeker,” Varric said, “There’s no harm in backtracking a little. The terrain’s getting a little rough. I’m sure this way is fine for you, but some of us need a more familiar path.”

Before Cassandra could respond with anything, whether it would have been in agreement or something cruel directed at the dwarf, an ear piercing shriek sounded from overhead.

And then Rosemary looked up and saw a dragon flying over them. 

She staggered back instantly, taking cover back in the mountain path. Varric and Cassandra followed while Cole just stood there, out in the open, staring up at the dragon. 

“Kid,” Varric called, but he got no response. 

Varric ran out and dragged Cole back to safety. He peeked his head out anyways, his hat almost falling off with how far he needed to tilt his head back to see it. 

“She’s so big! Why can’t I look? She can’t hurt me. If she attacks, I won’t be there anymore.”

Varric chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. You know, I killed a dragon once.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “My ancestors actually hunted dragons.”

Rosemary was more than content not being able to see the dragon, retreating further into the safety of the mountain. “I didn’t even think they existed. At least not anymore.”

That seemed to upset Cassandra, her brow furrowing. “You did not believe? So you thought the old stories were what? Lies?”

The last thing she wanted was to start an argument with Cassandra. “I don’t know that I thought about it much at all.”

Varric looked back, fingers moving slightly over his crossbow, almost caressing it. “Should I fire a shot as we leave?” he asked. “Say I fought another dragon?” 

Rosemary’s eyes widened but before she could tell him off, Cole said, “They’re all so hungry. That’s why she bites. Too many mouths to feed. No one wanders in anymore. She’s so high!”

His voice swapped effortlessly between the endless narration of others' thoughts to an almost breathy excitement at the dragon. 

If she didn’t hate him so much, it might have been endearing. 

After that, they sorted out how to get back on the right track, although Cassandra did insist upon regaling them with tales of her family's deeds. It seemed an instinct born largely of embarrassment, though she was unsure how being related to dragon killers absolved her of getting them lost. 

At least she hoped they were back on the right track. She supposed she didn’t know. It was less obviously wrong, that was for certain, but she supposed it was no real guarantee. To be honest, she just wanted to find something that would help them to orient themselves on one of the maps. She figured so long as they didn’t run into any more dragons, they should be fine, even if they did take a couple more wrong turns. 

They found no landmarks before the sun began to set and the four of them decided that they’d done enough walking for the day and settled down to camp. 

She preferred this, the smaller campsites without Inquisition troops there. They had more supplies in those bigger camps but she could never shake the sense of unease that came with them. 

Cassandra set up most of the camp, more than happy to do the heavy lifting all on her own. 

Varric was trying to show Cole how to start a fire using a rock and a dagger he’d taken off Cole from wherever he’d been hiding them. The spirit couldn’t quite seem to get the hang of it, although that didn’t stop him from trying. 

It was honestly a surprise that Cole didn’t have any magic, now that she thought about it. She was pretty sure mages got their magic through a connection with the fade, so surely someone who came from the fade should have at least a little magic, certainly enough to start a fire. 

And yet he sat there, smacking the knife into the dark rock. 

He managed to pull sparks a few times, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. 

Rosemary had little to do herself and found herself just watching. 

She also had no clue how to start a fire, but Varric hadn’t offered and so she was content to just watch. 

As Cassandra finished setting up camp, Varric gently took the knife and stone from Cole, sparking it into the little pile of brush he’d formed and almost instantly starting up a small fire. 

Cole drifted over to her as Varric stoked the flame into something more useful. 

“I’m not good at it,” he said, crouching beside where she was sitting on the floor of the forest. 

She shrugged. “Can’t be good at everything.”

“Who’s up for a round of Wicked Grace?” Varric asked as he stood up from the now roaring campfire. 

Cassandra groaned and announced that she would be going to sleep, as they all should, to keep up their strength. 

Rosemary shifted closer to Varric, asking, “How do you play? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Never heard of Wicked Grace?” he cried in mock offense. “Well, that needs to be fixed immediately. What about you, kid, you want to learn?”

“They all lie face down, never seeing another. Sometimes when he wins he smiles and that they can see. The ace is his favorite, lives in his palm until everything is perfect.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She gave him a dirty look. “You better not be palming cards in this game, Tethras, or I’ll bring the wrath of the Inquisition on you.”

“You’re beginners, I’ll teach you to cheat later.”

Wicked Grace was not all that difficult. He insisted that the rules were simple because it was the cheating that made it fun. She practiced palming cards as Cole announced everyone's cards in his little riddles. 

Varric was clearly a practiced player, cheating or not. Cole seemed intent on gathering as many face cards from the deck as he could, repeatedly pulling cards from the middle despite Varric saying it was not allowed. Cole responded that this was his version of cheating and that Varric said they had to. 

Varric had just sighed and allowed Cole to grab the Jack he’d held up his sleeve to add to his hand. 

She ended up winning, not through any merit of her own but because she was better at understanding Cole’s card revealing riddles than Varric was. Cole was technically losing but he seemed to be playing his own game. 

She won nothing, with Varric insisting they’d just been playing for fun and that no one should bet anything real while teaching someone to play.

Somehow, she imagined he’d be singing a different tune if he’d won.

“He would,” Cole said. “Fair’s fair, have to pay a tutors fee. You taught us either way, but we only pay if you win?”

“It was just a joke kid,” he said, giving Cole a pat on the back. “Now, you should both get to sleep. Cassandra will kick my ass if you’re both dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep,” Cole said. 

“Do me a favor? Give it a shot anyway.”

Cole nodded, content with the new task he’d been given.

They both went to their bedrolls, Cole just sitting atop his while she tucked into hers and went to bed, the sound of the crackling fire sending her to sleep. 

She woke up first. She usually did, always on alert. 

Varric and Cassandra were still fast asleep. Cassandra tended to wake with the sunrise, immediately setting off to work along with the light. Varric always needed to be dragged out of bed, saying that surely they could afford to relax for a few minutes out of their day. 

Rosemary woke before the sun did. Sneaking hours, she’d called them when she was younger. The term felt juvenile now, but at the very least they were aptly named.

Cole was nowhere near his bedroll at all. She spun around with a yawn, looking for him in the treeline, before seeing him crouched on the ground, a spark flying from his hands.

She blinked a few times, willing the world to come into focus as she forced the sleep out of her eyes. He was sitting there with what she could now recognize as that rock in his hand, the other striking the dagger against it. 

She ambled over to him, sitting beside him and his little pile of dry leaves. 

“Careful,” she said with a yawn. “You’ll set the forest on fire.”

His nose wrinkled up, his eyes fully focused on the task at hand. “I want to learn but it's hard, hard to remember when it's not what I was made to do.”

“Who cares?” she asked, leaning back on her arms to watch him. “Varric can already do it, you don’t need to learn.”

“Varric remembers,” he said. “Everything you say. Everything from me too. He files it away for stories and thoughts and because he cares. But I care and it’s still hard.”

“That’s fine. Unless you decide to take up writing, I think you’ll be fine without them.”

He huffed, dropping the rock and sheathing his knife under his jacket. She noted where it was being hidden, glad that it was stored somewhere and wasn’t some magical weapon he could summon. 

“You don’t understand. You remember too, but it’s because you're scared. It means something.”

She hated this sort of thing, the emotional talk about caring that he always cycled back to. Maybe she did want him to remember more. At least that way they’d have more to talk about. 

She was spared from having to respond by the sun waking from behind the horizon, Cassandra following close behind it. 

She kicked Varric gently as she rose and he groaned. “It’s not even light yet, surely we can sleep at least until we can see.”

Cassandra did not let him and before they knew it, they were off again.

It wasn’t long before they reached familiar land and Rosemary was properly assured that they were back on track. 

Her favorite part of traveling over familiar land was that she was guaranteed to not have to face a single rift. They walked for half a day of steady, uneventful travel before they had returned and no one else so much as tried to take their heads off. 

Bull was at the gates. His face lit up when he saw her and she felt her heart stutter in her chest. 

She couldn’t do this. 

It didn’t matter. She would do it because she had to.

She greeted him with a smile, following him happily into the tavern. 

His Chargers cheered as she walked in and she pushed her hair behind her ear, feigning self-consciousness.

A drink was thrust at her and she took it happily, sipping at it carefully so she wouldn’t be too comfortable, still ready to carefully prepare reactions as needed. 

The other Chargers kept talking to her. She understood that it was so she would feel welcome, but she really wished they would leave her alone.

And Bull was all over her. He almost felt pushy tonight. Or maybe she was tired from the trip, leaning into him a little too hard, not being careful enough about the signals she was sending. 

She kept spying Cole out of the corner of her eyes, watching carefully. No one else ever seemed to see him. She supposed it was probably a spirit thing because he was incredibly conspicuous in his looming. 

She wasn’t sure how long it was before Bull pulled her off to his room. She felt a little bit too far gone considering how little she’d drunk. 

She didn’t act it, her responses coming naturally as could be from years of training. 

She had mostly stopped listening to him, at least actively. He said something to her about how she could stop him. She didn’t listen, would just go along with it all. She knew how this worked. She’d been here before. 

She nodded along. It had long since stopped feeling real, this part of it. She had practiced it endlessly, knew instinctively exactly how she should respond, and did it without so much as having to process it. 

She was pretty sure he wanted to hit her. That was fine too, another thing she’d long since become accustomed to. Plenty of men got off on it, although Bull did not seem like one who wanted her to show how much she hated it. 

She played the wooed maiden, entranced by everything he did, completely overrun by pleasure. 

It was humiliating. She preferred when they let her show she didn’t like it. It made her less embarrassed after, at least.

She barely even recognized when it was over, too far inside of herself. 

She felt herself smiling, her throat a little hoarse, although she couldn’t remember what had caused it. 

She grinned and gave him a kiss between his horns as she said something about wanting to go take a bath 

He let her leave with little protest. He at least allowed her that small dignity

She wandered off in a haze, not moving towards her own room. He might check on her if that was where she went. 

She ended up in a little shack, half exposed to the cold and not nearly dressed enough for it

She had no idea why it had hit her so hard this time. She’d been here a hundred times before, it was a well worn tool of hers. It was stupid for it to remind her of before, when she was small. It wasn’t a fight for survival here. She could reap real rewards from it now. She knew the repercussions of her actions, knew what she stood to gain and how it might fall through and not pan out the way she planned. She chose to do this. What right did she have to feel so cold?

And she was fine. She’d slept with men for protection before, would do it again when she left this place. Would do it more, probably, with less of a bargaining chip than her vital, glowing hand provided her. 

She refused to cry, would not allow it. It was a foolish instinct. Nothing productive would come from it. 

She always felt worse afterwards. Weaker. Not like the put on show of weakness she wore like armour. No, that was real weakness, a refusal to do what needed to be done and be able to be content with it. 

Warriors didn’t cry when they killed nor when they were injured. Mages did not cry when their magic stung, ripping into people as it tore themselves apart, just a little. What right did she have?

“They do cry,” said a voice beside her, and she looked up at Cole from the floor. 

She hadn’t even realized she’d sunk to the floor, too lost in her thoughts to take in anything around her. 

He dropped to the ground beside her, something heavy and woolen being wrapped around her shoulders as he did. 

She hadn’t realized she was shaking until the warmth began to set in. Even as the cold faded away, leaving her bones, the shaking didn’t stop. She didn’t know how to make it stop. 

“I can get you something,” he said. “A hot drink, warm you from the inside. That’s where the shaking comes from. I can’t take it away but maybe the warmth will make it less.”

He went to stand up and she grabbed his arm, keeping him on the ground with her. 

She rested her head on his shoulder as he settled back down, furious at herself for being comforted by him. 

Furious at herself for needing to be comforted at all. 

He shifted nervously beneath her for a while before settling down, his hand sliding over to give her arm a squeeze. 

She wondered whose head he’d pulled that idea of comfort from. 

But still, for some impossible to understand reason, she was content sitting there beside him, feeling numb no matter how long the blanket sat around her shoulders.

And then the sun was shining through a broken roof, the morning having come after she’d slipped unknowingly out of consciousness. 

When she woke up she was alone, surrounded by blankets with a pile of dried leaves and a familiar rock lying a few feet from her.