#this barely counts as soft sci-fi

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, insecure eddie makes an appearance, eddie’s pov, tons of kissing, drug use (weed), grinding/dry humping and a whole lot of cheese, what can i say? (it’s a given with these two)

part four | part six

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4.9k

a/n: damn this was a long time coming. thank you guys for being so patient with me during this writing slump. also big shoutout to @strangerstilinski for gifting me that one porno title. but i really need to give the biggest thank you to my bestie @undead-supernova ! august, you have truly helped me improve my writing so much over the past year, and i hope you know how much i love and appreciate you. this chapter is dedicated to you boo xx.

“You cannot be serious, sweetheart,” Eddie deadpans, looking between you and the VHS tape clutched between his fingers.

You feel your face warm, his overly exaggerated tone causing another customer in the horror section to give you both a sideways glance.

“As a heart attack,” you mumble, grabbing a copy of Children of the Corn to read the back cover in order to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Never seen Alien, she says…” he huffs under his breath, “It’s a classic!”

When you finally dare to peek up at him under your lashes, he’s giving you a look of utter disapproval that wavers on the edge of teasing.

“Sci-Fi isn’t really my thing,” you shrug, putting the tape back and reaching for another.

“But Evil Dead is?” he muses, leaning forward over your shoulder to glance at the cover art.

The background is dark, with two grotesque-like hands reaching into the frame and toward a bloodied Bruce Campbell holding a chainsaw above his head. When Eddie leans in closer to get a better look, the tips of his fingers brush against your own in the process. The gentle touch sends your body into overdrive and you swear your heart is about to leap out of your chest from the proximity.

“Well…what about this one?” you ask, stepping out of his embrace to head further down the aisle, ignoring the rising heat in your cheeks as you nearly stumble. Damn heels.

“I would argue that this is a classic.”

But Eddie just slips in behind you again, resting a hand on your hip while you hold a copy of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in your hands.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, holding back a snicker as you gasp in mock offense.

“You doubt my judgment?”

“Of course not,” he insists with a small snort. “But…maybe you have a thing for guys who wield chainsaws.”

You catch the sly grin that stretches across his lips out of the corner of your eye, a loud laugh puffing out from his chest when you playfully smack his shoulder. Eddie grabs the tape from you, leaning in a little closer until his lips brush against your ear.

And he doesn’t miss the subtle hitch of your breath.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart…” he cheekily assures, “Your secret is safe with me.”

When you throw a playful glare his way, he merely winks in response. Then he turns on his heel to stride back toward the front counter, snagging a box of Reese’s Pieces on his way. You fumble a step behind him before glancing up.

The employee manning the counter is someone you know all too well.

His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, the ends brushing against his forehead and falling into his eyes. But he’s still just as handsome, if not annoyingly so. And when Eddie sets the tapes on the counter, Steve barely spares him a passing glance. His brown eyes quickly settle on you as his lips pull up into a lazy grin.

“Find everything you were looking for?” he asks, the cadence of his voice is low but filled with a sticky sweetness that has your cheeks warming.

And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was flirting with you.

“O-Oh, I, uh— ”

“Yeah,” Eddie cuts in, his voice a little strained. “We found everything just fine, man.”

Steve gives you another soft grin as he snaps open the first case, a small snort leaving his nose.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the gore fest type.”

But that slight hint of disbelief in his tone has you wanting to shrink in on yourself.

“Then you don’t know her very well,” Eddie mutters under his breath.

Only, his snide comment isn’t as quiet as he initially intended.

But Steve says nothing, just clears his throat and runs a hand through his chestnut locks before sliding the movies across the counter. The clacking of the keyboard fills the uncomfortable silence as you tug at the worn vinyl on the counter.

“That’ll be $12.35.”

You can feel Eddie tense beside you.

“I thought the movies were 2 for $4 tonight?” you chime in softly, confusion scrunching your brows together.

Steve’s lip quirks up in a slight smirk as he glances between you and Eddie.

“Well, Munson here has racked up quite a lot of late fees…” he trails before whistling. The flash of amusement in his eyes has Eddie’s narrowing in warning.

But that look only seems to encourage him.

“Looks like we’ve got Erotic Night of the Living Dead, returned three days late. Munch Masters Vol. I…”, Steve pauses to scroll further down the list. “…and Vol. II, that was a week late.”

He flashes Eddie a condescending grin, “Must’ve really liked that one, huh?”

But before Steve can embarrass him further, Eddie fishes out his wallet and slams a couple bills down onto the counter. He grabs the tapes, tucking them under his arm and slips his hand in yours. The boy all but pulls you out of the store, his chin tucked toward his chest to try and hide the flames licking his cheeks.

Despite his ever growing irritation—fueled by the embarrassment of what just transpired—he still opens the door and helps you into the van.

Ever the gentleman.

“Harrington’s got some nerve,” Eddie mutters under his breath as he slides into the driver's seat. “With his nice smile and his stupid hair…” His voice drips with condescension as he slams the driver's door shut behind him.

“Embarrassing me is one thing. But blatantly flirting with my girl, right in front of me—like I wasn't even there?! That’s low even for him.”

Eddie doesn’t even realize what he just let slip, too busy fumbling to stick the key into the ignition.

A beat passes before you manage to gather the courage to speak, the jingling of keys echoing in your ears.

“Your girl?” you ask carefully, heart lodged in your throat.

Eddie’s whole body tenses, taking his time in setting the tapes down on the dashboard before finally turning to face you.

“Well…I, uh, shit,” he whispers, splotches of red beginning to creep up his neck while he exhales sharply through his nose. “I wanted to ask you in a proper, more romantic way—”

You suddenly turn in your seat, your grip on his collar firm while your lips manage to cut him off with a surprised hmph.

But he’s quick to recover, mouth molding over yours with an intensity that would make your knees buckle if you were still standing. And he keeps kissing you, slowly, deeply…until the windows begin to fog up from the heat of your mingling breaths.

“I don’t need romantic, Eddie,” you manage when he pulls away for some much needed air, your nose nudges against his own before you press another gentle kiss to his swollen lips. “Just you.”

And his answering grin is all the reassurance you need.

“Welcome to my castle,” Eddie says, gesturing toward the pale blue trailer with a tentative smile.

He barely let you push open the passenger door before he was running around the front of the van, almost dropping the VHS tapes tucked under his arm in the process. But the soft giggle you let slip when he bows and offers you his hand had his heart skipping a beat.

He keeps your fingers intertwined as you walk alongside him to the door. The uneven gravel makes the otherwise short distance in your heels a little more treacherous than normal. But Eddie is more than willing to catch you at the slightest hint of a wobble in your step.

The night air is far more frigid than either of you anticipated, and the shiver that ripples through you has him nearly dropping the keys in his rush to open the front door. He curses softly, breathing out a sigh of relief when the door finally swings open.

“Ladies first,” he grins, gesturing you forward.

Once you're both safely inside Eddie drops the keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and switching on lights as he goes. He inwardly cringes when he spots the fast food wrappers scattered across the counter and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

What a great first impression, Munson.

But when he remembers the current state of his bedroom, his face pales.

“Uh, I’m just gonna…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck before motioning behind him with his thumb. “Grab a new shirt, but go ahead and make yourself at home.”

Eddie waits until you’ve taken a seat on the sofa before starting down the hall. He’s frantic when he bursts through his bedroom door, immediately eyeing the pile of clothes strewn across his unmade bed. A disaster he left in the wake of trying to pull together a last minute Halloween costume.

He found the orange shirt that’s currently adorning your frame in the very back of his closet, a lost relic from the one time Wayne had managed to take him hunting. Eddie had fallen asleep up in the deer stand and almost shot a crossbow through his boot, and Wayne had vowed never again.

He had grabbed a discarded sharpie off his nightstand, the cap tucked between his teeth as he scribbled This is my Halloween costume across the front in his signature messy scrawl. While it wasn’t his most creative idea to date, it was either this or the god awful pirate costume he’d been suckered into a few years back. That most definitely did not fit him anymore.

Eddie scoops up an armful of clothes, tossing them onto the already cluttered floor of his closet. His movements are erratic, nearly tripping over one of his amps in the process. While Eddie isn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, he is unable to disguise the way his hands are trembling.

He’s nervous, so fucking nervous.

And when he dares to peek out of his room and down the hall, he immediately has to remind himself to breathe.

Because there you are, sitting on his couch, wearing his shirt. Looking almost heaven sent, your eyes alight with wonder as you take in the collection of hats and mugs adorning the walls.

“Get a fuckin’ grip, man,” he mumbles to himself, dropping to his knees to shove more of the remaining clutter under his bed.

Once he returns to his feet, he slips his jacket off his shoulders and tosses it over the back of the chair before rifling through the top drawer of his dresser for a new shirt. Despite what a majority of the town believed, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was no stranger to the sins of the flesh. He’d lost his virginity his first senior year in the back of his van to band geek, Polly O’Donnell.

Which was probably why her mom had failed him two years in a row. Not that he was keeping score or anything.

But even in that moment, Eddie hadn’t felt this nervous.

Maybe, it was because he didn’t harbor the same feelings for Polly that he did for you. Or perhaps the real reason was that he just didn’t trust people or their intentions. His tumultuous upbringing and treatment by his peers was testament enough of that. So Eddie kept most people at arm's length, not allowing them to see past his scary façade.

It was safer that way.

But one look from you was enough to have his carefully crafted walls crumbling down, laid to rubble beneath his feet.

And that’s the thing that scared him the most. That he would willingly throw himself (and his heart) into the crossfire if it meant you would continue to look at him like that.

Man, he had it bad.

He huffs out a breath, grabbing the first unwrinkled shirt that he can find and pulling it over his head. The male takes one final glance around his bedroom, deciding it’s good enough before he turns to leave. But something on his nightstand catches his eye, the joint he rolled earlier practically beckoning him with the promise of sweet relaxation.

And with the state of his jangled nerves, he could use all the help he could get.

So he slips the joint behind his ear, spinning the lighter between his thumb and forefinger as he pads down the hall toward you.

And while his nerves were ravaging his insides, you aren’t faring much better.

You had counted every mug and hat that lined the walls of his living room twice over, in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you were actually here with him. All alone, with no prying eyes or listening ears to interrupt you. And despite the fact that he just put a shirt back on, it doesn’t stop your thoughts from wandering to not so innocent places.

The sleeves are cut off, showing off his surprisingly toned biceps. An array of dark ink flows over his arms, the black shirt making him appear almost paler in comparison. You tuck your lower lip between your teeth when you see the muscles in his forearms contract when he places his palms flat on the counter.

Your thighs press together as your gaze travels lower, where his jeans cling a little too tightly to his—

“You still up for some pizza?” he asks, picking up the phone and interrupting your thoughts.

“O-Oh, right!” you blink, averting your eyes. “Pizza sounds great.”

He quickly punches in a number before you can ask any further questions, holding the receiver up to his ear.

“Hey man, it’s Eddie,” he says after a few moments.

The male tucks the receiver between his ear and shoulder while he speaks, fingers drumming lightly along the countertop. The movement causes his hair to fall over his face, a stray curl eventually finding its way into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah the usual.” he sputters, spitting the hair out and tucking the wild curls back behind his ear. “But uh, can I get olives on half?”

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes roll into the back of his head fondly. And it has you contemplating what other ways you could make his eyes roll back.

“No no no, I have not become an ‘olive enthusiast.’” He scoffs, fingers curling into air quotes. “I just, I have…” he pauses, dark eyes flicking over to you. “I have a guest over tonight.”

And the way Eddie has to hold the phone away from his ear has you stifling a giggle. You can hear a muffled voice on the other end, their enthusiastic lilt apparent even from where you are perched on the end of the sofa.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He chuckles, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “But that should be it.” Eddie tucks the phone back in between his shoulder, reaching to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

“Oh wait, wait!” He exclaims, slapping his palm down onto the counter. “Add on an order of those cinnamon breadsticks too.”

You wish you could’ve been privy to their entire conversation, because the way Eddie flushes a deep crimson before he playfully tells the person on the other end to ‘kindly fuck off’ and hangs up the phone, has you beyond intrigued.

He takes a couple more bills out, tossing them on the counter and slips the wallet back into his pocket. The chain jingles against his thigh with each step he takes, your eyes unintentionally following the movement. He plops down onto the sofa beside you, the heat in his cheeks fading into a soft, rosy sheen.

“Nina’s is busy tonight,” he murmurs, setting something onto the small table beside him. “So, it might take a little longer than usual.”

“How did you know Nina’s Pizzeria was my favorite?” you ask, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Well,” he hums, leaning his head back against the cushions and giving you a lazy grin. “I just assumed you had much better taste than Domino’s, sweetheart.”

You playfully whack him with one of the throw pillows beside you, a stunned expression crossing over his features. Half of his hair is ruffled from where the pillow connected with his head, and this time you can’t contain the giggles from bubbling up in your chest.

“Oh you are so going to regret that, baby.” he taunts, eyes narrowing in a predatory manner.

And your whole body stills.

Baby. He just called you baby.

Eddie uses this moment to his advantage, pouncing on you with a wicked cackle. His hands find your sides, quickly pulling giggle after breathless giggle from you. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot, you squeal and begin to thrash beneath him as he continues to torture you with his fingers.

Your attempts to get him back are futile. Eddie is much faster, taking both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. Both of your chests are rising and falling rapidly from the exertion, your faces mere inches apart.

His curls create a dark curtain around you, his eyes flicking down toward your lips. His minty breath washes over you, causing yours to lodge in your throat. You just stare at each other, both of you fighting the urge to close the remaining distance between your mouths.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, “Movie time?”

“Movie time,” you agree.

And just like that, the moment is gone as quickly as it came. Eddie clumsily climbs off you, almost falling off the sofa in the process. His curls bounce as he springs back up, offering a hand to help you sit back up.

“Now my fair maiden, what film dost thou choose?”

He holds up both cases, the choice of movie concealed by the large Family Video logo. You purse your lips, glancing back and forth between the cases as if looking at them longer would somehow reveal the title beneath.

“That one.”

You point to the one in his left hand, and Eddie tosses the other back onto the coffee table. He pops open the plastic case and chuckles before looking up at you.

“Texas Chainsaw it is.” He grins, removing the tape from its case and heading toward the TV.

Eddie crouches down, balancing on the soles of his feet as he loads the tape into the VCR. our eyes can’t help but wander across the expanse of his broad shoulders and down his back. The hem of his shirt rides up ever so slightly as he reaches to switch the tv on, exposing the band of his boxer shorts and the pale skin of his lower back.

“However,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at you. His eyes are warm and full of mischief. “You are not leaving this trailer until you get to experience the cinematic masterpiece that is Ridley Scott’s Alien.”

The playful threat has your whole body warming, feeling thankful when he finally switches off the lamp. The darkness of the room is a welcome reprieve with only his silhouette visible, illuminated by the glow from the TV. He bounds back over and takes the seat beside you.

You allow yourself to sink further into the sofa while Eddie grabs something off the side table. The spark of the lighter ignites the handsome features of his face, and the slight stubble along his jaw. His plush lips carefully wrap around the end of the joint, cheeks hollowing slightly as he inhales deeply.

The sight alone sends a delightful shiver up your spine, shifting your gaze back toward the television as the smoke billows out from between his lips.

“Are you cold?” he asks, draping his arm over the back of the sofa in search of the old quilt that was previously thrown over it.

But said quilt had unfortunately fallen behind the sofa in the midst of your scuffle, well beyond his reach now. Eddie leans in closer, cursing softly under his breath as he attempts to locate the missing quilt in the dark. You can feel the warmth radiating from his chest, which causes another shiver to pass through you.

“Maybe a little,” you murmur.

And the male doesn’t complain when you nuzzle yourself further into his side, happily curling his arm around your shoulders. He takes another hit from the joint as the trailers continue to flash across the screen, the upcoming releases now the furthest thing from your mind.

“You want some?” He holds the joint out toward you, blowing some smoke out the corner of his mouth. “No pressure, of course.”

You carefully take it from him, your fingers brushing against his own in the process. Despite your initial reservations, you immediately lift the joint to your lips, feeling his eyes continue to linger on your features. In your nervous haste you inhale a little too quickly, the smoke evading your lungs in sharp fragments that has you immediately coughing it back up.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, killer,” he teases, gently rubbing your back, the touch a welcome distraction. “You gotta inhale slower.”

He takes the joint back from you, keeping it between his fingers while you continue to cough your lungs up. You’re very thankful he can’t see the way your eyes are watering as another cough racks through your chest.

“Have you ever smoked before?” he asks, only curiosity lacing his tone.

“Um, once,” cough. “In the ninth grade when I stole a cigarette out of my aunt’s purse.”

The memory is sparked, causing a smile to tug at the corner of your mouth. Your Aunt Bev had been visiting from Reno for Christmas, like she did every year. The eccentric woman was always decked out in colorful rhinestones and bright blue eyeshadow, spinning wild tales of her nights out on the strip much to the chagrin of your mother.

But you had never seen her without a trusty pack of Camel Turkish Golds.

So when one of your older cousins claimed you were too much of a prissy pants to join in on their smoke session (aka the infamous cousin walk), you took it upon yourself to swipe one from her purse and hoped she wouldn’t notice. But you received the lecture of a lifetime from her when you came back looking guilty and smelling like nicotine.

As you recount the tale back to him, you purposely leave out the part where you almost threw up in a snowbank because you were coughing so hard. No need to subject him to that visual. And while that experience had you swearing off cigarettes for the rest of your life, that didn’t mean you should deny yourself this one…right?

“Well your aunt’s absolutely right you know,” he says after a moment, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “Cigarettes are terrible for you.”

You go to reach for that pillow again, ready to whack him in the head for good measure but Eddie chucks it across the room before you even have a chance to grab it. The pillow narrowingly misses the tv set by an inch, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“Ah, ah ah!” he tuts, wagging a finger in front of your face. “Don’t mess with the mane, sweetheart.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes fondly before turning your attention back to the movie. But Eddie keeps his gaze on you, admiring how the soft glow highlights the features of your face. Your nose, which scrunches up in the cutest way whenever you’re annoyed. Your gentle eyes, that look at him as if he could do no wrong. And your lips—god, your lips. They’re slightly pouted, shiny with spit.

And Eddie's perverted mind can’t help but start to wander. He wonders how your lips would feel wrapped around him, or if those pretty eyes would roll back when he buried his tongue inside you.

Jesus H. Christ, was it getting hotter in here?

Eddie wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, willing all the blood in his body to stop rushing South.

Popping a boner during a horror flick, that’ll really impress her, idiot.

God, he was too sober for this.

The male quickly tears his gaze away from you, picking up the lighter and relighting the forgotten joint. He doesn’t notice your eyes drifting back toward him, like a moth to a flame.

He inhales deeply, allowing the smoke to curl into his lungs and dull his sexually intrusive thoughts. But he feels you staring, your eyes transfixed on where the smoke billows out from between his lips. He glances at the joint, then back at you. Then Eddie gets an idea, an awful, sinful idea.

He whispers your name as the room is bathed in darkness again, giving him the final push he needs.

“I want to try something…” he mumbles, carefully removing your glasses and placing them on the coffee table. “Do you trust me?”

You nod automatically.

“Then come here,” he says, voice hoarse.

And when you crawl into his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips…

Eddie is a goner.

Miraculously, he manages to keep his composure, despite the way his heart is about to leap out of his chest. You’ve never been this close before, where he can feel the warmth of your thighs seeping into his jeans and smell the faint perfume lingering on your neck.

Even in the dark, he can see that flicker of bashfulness cross over your features, that sudden urge to avoid his heated stare. To tuck in on yourself, to hide away. But to his surprise, you hold his gaze, bold and unwavering when one of his hands falls to rest on your hip. He attempts to soothe you, his thumb circling up and under your shirt.

“Inhale slowly, alright?” he gently reminds you.

His other hand brings that joint back to his full lips, the cherry end igniting brightly as he inhales.

Only this time when he lowers the joint, he leans forward. His lips brush against yours until they part beneath his own, the smoke slithering out and into your awaiting mouth. You inhale slowly—just as he instructed and let the smoke curl in and around your lungs.

And when you breathe out, he’s right there, inhaling the dissipating smoke into his own mouth with a proud smile.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Eddie takes another long drag and leans in again, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw. And maybe it’s the look in his eye or the weed beginning to lull your nerves, but you fist the collar of his shirt and pull him into you, crashing your lips together for the second time that evening.

The male barely manages to discard the joint before he’s reeling you back in, tongue gliding over your lower lip and into your awaiting mouth. You taste like Juicy Fruit and a hint of purple palm tree delight, a combination that sets every nerve in his body on fire.

Your fingers wind into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently tugging and earning you a throaty moan. Eddie swears he’s lost it when your sweet moans begin to echo his own. The sound travels straight down, where his cock is straining pathetically against the seam of his jeans.

An uphill battle he’s been fighting since you kissed him in the parking lot of Family Video.

And when you feel that hardness pressing against your inner thigh, it only encourages you to keep going. Giving an experimental roll of your hips that has Eddie’s head lolling back onto the cushions, a choked sound resembling a whine escapes his mouth.

This new position provides you with easier access to his throat, giving you a surge of confidence before your lips find a home there and teeth nip wherever they can find purchase.

Eddie pants as your lips only trail lower, a grunt of your name mixes with a slew of curses when you suck a large bruise onto the base of his throat. Your lips make an audible pop when they detach from his skin and you lean back to assess the damage with a satisfied grin. He looks beautifully wrecked, lips swollen and eyes glossy.

You trace over the blossoming shades of red and purple on his neck with your fingertips, humming softly when you feel a shiver pass through him.

“My turn,” he insists, gently tipping your head back.

When he leans forward, lips brushing against your collarbone, he can almost taste the spiked punch from earlier. A bitter, yet sugary sweet flavor that has him groaning low in his throat. The sound reverberates through your chest and has your hips grinding harder against his own.

The fabric of your panties are completely soaked, making a mess on the front of his jeans with each frantic buck of your hips. His fingers begin to trail lower, sneaking under your skirt and grazing over the elastic of your panties. Feeling emboldened, you take his wrist, pressing the heel of palm against your center.

“Oh shit,” he groans, fingers circling up and over your aching core. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart.”

You can only manage a soft whine in response, allowing him to guide your head back down to capture your lips together.

An abrupt knock sounds just as a blood curdling scream erupts from the television. Both noises pull you apart with a sudden start, which has you nearly falling backwards off his lap and onto the floor below. But Eddie keeps a steady grip on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he huffs out a breath of frustration.

“Pizza’s here.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @avobabe87 @kellsck @definitionwanderlust @ainelantv @bring-it-on-back

[sushiyuzu]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄

type: special halloween oneshot

pairing: sylus x fem!reader

cw/genre: nsfw/smut (*mdni)，fluff，romance，tension

summary: when celebrating halloween together, sylus wants to show you how a true dracula indulges in the night 🦇🖤

start to end: 27/10/2024 – 29/10/2024 ᝰ.ᐟ

a/n: hey everyone! i just wrapped up a special halloween oneshot that took me three days and probably more caffeine than i care to admit. it’s a super long read—over 7,000 words! (i think) so, grab your fav snacks, get comfy, and prepare to be entertained. i promise it’s worth your time, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself 💀

happy (early) halloween, and enjoy the read! 🎃

halloween night has finally come, and your heart beats faster with excitement and nerves as you step into sylus’s mansion in your 6-inch heels.

the grand entrance is decorated beautifully, with soft cobwebs and candles flickering everywhere. shadows dance on the marble floor, and you catch the faint scent of pumpkin spice in the air. it feels perfectly festive, and you wonder if sylus is the one who set it all up.

you hope he is.

you take a final look in the mirror. your costume is a stunning female vampire. your dark red dress fits perfectly, hugging your curves, with lace that adds a touch of elegance. the high slit on the side reveals just enough of your leg, and your makeup is bold with dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick. your hair is neat, framing your face. you even added fake fangs to complete the fierce look.

you and sylus had been discussing and planning to celebrate halloween together a few nights back. though onychinus and linkon city were far from each other, the distance felt like a small obstacle in your high-tech world, where the cities glittered with neon lights and transport drones zipped between them.

“we’ll make it special,” he had promised over the holo-call, his figure flickering slightly in the blue light. you could see the excitement in his crimson eyes, even through the hazy, digital screen. he described his plans with that rare spark in his voice, talking about turning his mansion into an eerie, gothic wonderland for the night.

“and i want you there,” he’d added softly, his voice barely a whisper, almost like he feared the city might hear him. “just us, no distractions, no noise.”

you’d laughed, feeling the warmth in his words despite the sci-fi distance between you. “i wouldn’t miss it for anything,” you’d replied, already counting down the hours to leave the metallic bustle of linkon city behind and step into sylus’s world for halloween.

now, as you walk through the mansion, you notice the dim lighting and rich decorations, making everything feel warm but mysterious. paintings line the walls, and antique furniture adds a timeless charm. each corner is dressed up for halloween, from the grand dining room to the cozy living room.

then, you hear footsteps.

sylus steps into view, and your breath catches. he looks absolutely breathtaking in his dracula costume. his black suit fits him perfectly, and a long red cape flows behind him. his silver hair is slicked back, making his red eyes shine even brighter in the candlelight. he has this confidence and elegance that makes your heart race.

“ah, my enchanting vampire,” he says in a smooth, inviting voice. “you look absolutely captivating tonight.”

you can’t help but blush at his compliment. “thank you, sylus. you look incredibly dashing as well.”

he strides closer, his presence both bold and intimidating. you feel a thrill of excitement as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i must admit,” he says, his gaze intense and appreciative. “the sight of you is almost enough to make me forget my role.”

you smile, feeling a flutter of joy in your chest. “i can’t wait to see what you have planned for us tonight.”

he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. the mixture of confidence and charm in his voice earlier sends a thrill down your spine.

sylus gestures for you to follow him into the grand living room. the space is decorated with elegant orange and black accents, the walls are adorned with gothic decorations: carved skulls, and eerie portraits, and a table filled with treats waits for you. there are chocolate-covered strawberries, ghost-shaped cookies, and a large bowl of punch with floating eyeball-shaped fruits. it all looks delicious.

you smile, looking around at everything. huh, sylus really does have a talent for detail.

“let’s indulge in some delightful treats before the festivities commence,” he says, his voice filled with charm. he leads you to the table, pouring a glass of punch for each of you.

as you snack on the treats, the cozy atmosphere wraps around you like a warm blanket. the candlelight flickers off the walls, creating a magical, mysterious feeling. sylus leans back against the plush sofa, his confident demeanor making him seem both bold and relaxed. he lifts a chocolate-covered strawberry to his lips, and you can’t help but watch as he bites into it, the sweet juices spilling slightly.

“do you know what happened during my first halloween?” he asks out of nowhere, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. you nod, intrigued.

“i was dressed as a ghost—an elegant one, of course,” he continues, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “but instead of scaring anyone, i tripped over my own cape and ended up falling into a pumpkin patch.”

you burst into laughter, picturing the usually composed sylus tumbling into a sea of pumpkins, his serious nature shattered for a moment. “i can’t imagine that! you falling into pumpkins sounds hilarious!” you exclaim, your laughter echoing in the cozy room.

he chuckles softly, the sound rich and deep, making your heart flutter. “oh, it was quite embarrassing. luke and kieran still tease me about it to this day.” his expression turns nostalgic as he recalls the memory, and you notice a rare, softer side of him—a side that allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

only with you.

“i can picture it now,” you say, grinning. “you covered in orange goo and trying to act dignified.”

“not my finest moment,” he replies, but his tone is light, and you can see the amusement in his eyes. “but it did teach me that even a dracula can have a silly side.”

you feel at ease with him, laughing as he shares more stories. each one shows you a little more of his real personality, the layers beneath his calm, mysterious exterior. he has a way of making you feel special, like you’re the only person in the room. with every shared laugh, the connection between you grows deeper, and the rest of the world fades away.

and in that moment, you realized how lucky you are to be spending halloween with him. it’s not just about the costumes or decorations; it’s the way he makes you feel—cherished, understood, and completely at home.

and you love him for that.

“do you like the decorations i made?” he asks, his crimson eyes searching yours.

you smile, realizing you were right.

he made them.

“they’re beautiful,” you reply, looking around. your heart flutters at the thought of sylus’s effort. “everything feels so magical here.”

“that was my intention,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone. “i wanted this evening to be enchanting, just like you.”

as the night progresses, the two of you find yourselves getting lost in conversation. you move closer together on the plush sofa, the warmth between you growing more intense. sylus’s big hand squeezes the soft flesh on your inner thigh, pulling you snugly against him.

you notice his gaze lingers on your lips, and it sends a thrill through you. your heart races, pounding like a drum in your chest. the air around you feels heavy with anticipation, as if the world outside has disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

sylus leans in closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body radiating toward you. his breath brushes against your skin, warm and inviting. the closeness makes your cheeks heat up, and you can hardly breathe. every inch between you feels charged with an unspoken desire, pulling you together like magnets.

you watch his eyes as they darken with longing. there’s a mix of seriousness and softness in his expression that makes your heart flutter even more. time seems to slow down, and all your worries melt away. in this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you and the unspoken words hanging in the air.

he inches closer still, and you can feel the heat rising between you. your breath catches as his lips are mere inches from yours. it feels as if the whole world has disappeared, and you’re both lost in a bubble of intimacy. you can sense his heart racing as well, matching your own rhythm.

“do you know what happens when a vampire and dracula meet on halloween?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“no, what?” you reply, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. “they share a kiss under the moonlight.”

with that, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. the kiss starts soft but quickly deepens with passion. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you deeper. you can feel the heat rising, igniting every nerve in your body. you melt into his embrace, feeling the intensity of the moment. your hands tangle in his silver hair, holding him close as you kiss him back with equal fervor. the kiss is electric, full of longing and desire, and you lose yourself in him.

after a breathless moment, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes with affection. “i have always wanted to share this moment with you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“me too,” you whisper, feeling shy yet excited. you can see the hunger in his eyes, sending shivers down your spine.

“let’s not let the night end just yet,” he says, his tone becoming more commanding. he stands, extending his hand to you. “come, there is more to experience.”

you take his hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him as he leads you deeper into the mansion. he leads you through the dimly lit corridors until you reach a large door. he opens it to reveal a lavish library filled with towering shelves of books and soft, plush seating. the room smells of aged paper and wood, creating a sense of intimacy that draws you in.

“this is my favorite spot,” he says, gesturing to the plush cushions scattered around. “it’s where i come to think,” he explains, his voice softening as he gestures around the room. “it holds my secrets and desires.”

the tension between you thickens as you step inside. you can’t help but admire the way he looks in this dim light, the shadows playing off his sharp features. as you sit together on the cushions,he turns to you, his expression serious yet tender. sylus leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “a place where we can escape from the world.”

you feel a rush of heat at his words. the tension in the room grows, and you can’t resist leaning in closer. your lips barely brush against his, igniting the fire that has been building all night. sylus responds with a soft growl, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you onto his lap.

he looks at you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you feel the darkness of the night, my vampire?” he asks, his tone lowering as he leans more closer now. “it invites us to embrace our true selves.”

your heart races at his words, and you nod, feeling the thrill of the moment. “i do. it’s intoxicating.”

“then let us indulge in it.”

before you can respond, he pulls you closer, your chest pressing against his. his lips crash onto yours with a passion that ignites the air around you. the kiss is fierce and commanding, leaving you breathless as you melt against him. his hands grip your waist tightly, and you feel the heat radiating from his body.

the kiss deepens, tasting of desire in every movement. sylus’s fingers slip into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands roaming over his strong shoulders, pulling him even closer. “you make it hard to control myself, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and thick with need. “but tonight, i want to savor every moment.”

as he pulls away, his crimson eyes darken with longing. the tension crackles between you, thick and electric. “let me show you how a true dracula indulges in the night,” he whispers, his gaze smoldering, a seductive promise in his voice.

sylus leans in again, capturing your lips with a slow, passionate kiss. his hand trails down your side, fingers dancing over the fabric of your dress, sending shivers through you. he takes his time, exploring and teasing, igniting a fire within you that grows with every touch.

every. single. touch.

the atmosphere is thick with desire, and you can feel the heat rising between you. sylus’s lips move down your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you arch your back, craving more of his touch, more of his presence.

“you are exquisite,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and filled with longing. “i want to lose myself in you tonight.”

his words send a thrill through you, and you can’t help but respond with a soft moan. “please, sylus. don’t hold back.”

the intensity between you peaks as he captures your lips once more, and the kiss deepens, and you can feel the heat rising between you. sylus’s big hands roam your body, exploring every curve and inch of you. each touch sends electric shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within. his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw and neck, kissing and nibbling softly. you arch your back, craving more of him, wanting to melt into his embrace.

“you taste so sweet,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. you feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. the way he looks at you, with those dark crimson eyes filled with passion, makes your heart race even faster.

“sylus,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “i need you.”

his eyes darken at your words, a hungry glint flashing in them. with that, he kisses you again, this time with a deeper, more urgent passion. his hands grip your waist, pulling you against him as if he never wants to let go. you can feel the heat of his body radiating onto yours, and it makes your skin tingle with excitement.

the kiss grows more intense, and you lose yourself in the moment. every touch, every kiss, feels like a spark igniting a flame inside you. he presses you closer, and you can feel the hard lines and muscles of his body against yours. it sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. “i want to feel you, all of you.”

your body responds to his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. you nod, unable to find your voice. all you can think about is the need building inside you, growing stronger with every passing moment.

sylus’s hands move from your waist to your thighs, sliding up and down slowly, teasingly. his fingers press into your soft skin, igniting every nerve ending. you can feel a warmth pooling deep inside you, a desire that makes you ache for him.

“please,” you whisper, the word slipping out in desperation.

he grins, a wicked smile that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “you don’t have to beg, my sweet,” he replies, his tone playful yet serious. “tonight is ours.”

with a swift movement, he lays you back onto the plush cushions, his huge body hovering over yours, making you feel small. the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this intimate moment. the tension between you thickens, almost tangible, as he leans down to kiss you again, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace.

his kisses grow more fervent, more demanding, and you can feel yourself responding in kind. your hands explore his body, feeling the strength beneath his clothing. the heat between you builds, a fire that consumes everything in its path.

“let go,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and inviting. “let me take care of you.”

his words send a thrill through you, and you surrender to the moment. every worry, every doubt, fades away as you give yourself to him completely. you lose track of time as his kisses grow deeper, his hands exploring, igniting every inch of your skin with pleasure.

his fingers then trace along your shoulders, reaching for the shoulder yoke of your dress. he moves slowly, almost teasing, as he slips one sleeve off, then the other, his touch light and careful. his eyes never leave yours, watching you closely. he keeps his gaze on you, his fingers moving slowly down, inch by inch, sliding the dress lower, and down to the ground. the fabric feels cool against your skin, but his touch is warm, steady, and sure.

“such a work of art,” sylus murmurs, his voice low and reverent. his touch gentles, becoming almost worshipful as he bares more of your skin to his gaze. his fingers trail along your collarbone, then down to your breasts.

sylus’s eyes darken with lust as he takes in the tantalizing sight of your cleavage. “oh, i missed this,” he growls softly. his fingers trace the edge of your bra, teasing the soft skin just above the lacy cups. he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “so much,” he whispers.

his eyes meet yours, filled with a silent command. his hands move to your back, searching for the clasp of your bra, slowly peels back the fabric, revealing more and more skin, inch by inch. once your bra is completely undone, he tosses it aside, letting it fall to the floor. his eyes feasting on your now bare breasts, a slow smile spreading across his face. “so perfect,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup the tender flesh. “like they were made specifically for me.”

exactly, just for him.

as his hand cups one, his thumb rubbing over the hard peak. so sensitive. he leans down, taking the other peak into his mouth and sucking gently. his tongue flicking out to caress the hardened bud. a soft gasp tears from your throat, your back arching as pleasure shot through you.

his touch is gentle, almost worshipful. his hands slide down to your waist, his fingers curling around to squeeze your bottom. he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. carrying you, sylus walks towards his study desk, never breaking the intimate contact. he lays you down gently on the cold surface, his warm body covering yours, your ample breasts jiggle with each movement. his lips trail from them up to your neck, his tiny fake fangs grazing your pulse point. “you’re mine,”

completely and utterly his.

he continues to worship your breasts, his mouth and hands moving between them, alternating between gentle kisses and firmer sucks, his fingers rolling and pinching your other nipple. “so delicate,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. “so mine.”

“s-sy...” his name escapes your lips in a breathless moan, and you feel him smirk against your skin, clearly satisfied by your reaction.

he didn’t stop. his mouth is completely relentless, switching to the other breast and another once more, giving it the same equal attention, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin until you are squirming beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with desire.

his hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively. his touch becomes more demanding, his fingers digging into your flesh. he kisses down your stomach, his hands guiding your thighs farther apart. his breath is hot against your core as he murmurs, “and this...”

his hands grip your thighs tighter, holding them apart as he leans down and presses his mouth to your center before biting the edge of your now soaked lace panties and sliding it to the side, revealing your wet cunt. “...belongs to me.” his tongue delves into your wet folds, parting them to lap at your nectar.

without any further hesitation, he dips his head and buries his face between your thighs. his tongue laves at your entrance, gathering your juices before thrusting inside you, fucking your hole with his tongue. your hands fist on the edge of the desk as he continues, the slow, torturous rhythm of his tongue driving you closer and closer to the edge. every stroke, every flick of it sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and it was all you could do to hold on, your body trembling beneath him.

sylus growls against your sex, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure. his tongue circles your clit before he suckles it between his lips. two long fingers plunge deep inside you, curling to stroke your inner walls. and in that moment you realize, he had come prepared. his nails on both of his middle and ring fingers are cut short, smooth and neat. he made sure to trim them carefully, knowing it’s important for what’s to come. the clean tips of his fingers shine softly in the light with each pull outs from your sweet hole, showing he thought ahead, fully caked with your pussy juices. he feels ready, knowing he can focus on the moment without any worries.

my, my, so thoughtful. yet so naughty.

sylus pumps them steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue. he sets a steady pace, his fingers plunging deep and curling to hit that special spot inside you with each thrust and rub. his tongue dances over your clit, alternating between rapid flicks and slow, deliberate licks. he can taste your arousal, feel your walls starting to flutter around his fingers. your hands fisting in his hair as you try to keep yourself grounded. but it is impossible. every flick of his tongue, every suck, every moan and groan that vibrated through you only push you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to fall.

he hums against your sex, the vibrations almost too much to bear. his fingers curl more deeper, rubbing firm circles against your g-spot as he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue fast. the pressure builds, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

sensing your impending orgasm, sylus doubles his efforts. he adds a third finger, scissoring them inside you to stretch your pussy even further. his mouth closes over your clit, and he sucks hard, his fangs grazing your sensitive flesh as he hums a deep, vibrations-rich note.

as your walls tighten around his fingers, he lifts his head, his mouth glistening with your essence. “look at me, sweetie,” he murmurs, his accent thick. you meet his gaze, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you. his fingers continue to move inside you, thrusting deeper with a steady fast rhythm. his palm presses against you, applying just the right amount of pressure where you need it most. each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. he watches you closely, taking in every gasp and shudder that escapes your lips. you can see the hunger in his eyes, the way he craves every reaction from you. it makes your heart race even faster.

“that’s it, just like that,” he says softly, encouraging you as his fingers curl at the perfect angle. you can feel him hitting that sweet spot, and it makes you moan even louder. the room feels like it’s spinning, and all you can focus on is him and the pleasure he’s giving you.

“you feel so good,” he adds, his voice low and sultry. the heat between you grows stronger, and you can't help but squirm beneath him, craving more. you feel a wave of bliss building inside you, ready to break free. you want to feel everything he has to give.

you lock eyes with him as he slowly continues to work you with his hand. his face is unreadable, but his eyes blaze with intensity. he brings his other hand up to your mouth, slowly sliding two fingers past your lips. “suck,” he commands softly, his voice low and sultry.

you obey, your tongue swirling around his fingers, tasting yourself on him. the sensation makes your cheeks flush as you feel the heat rise within you. “mmm, sylus,” you murmur around his fingers, the name spilling from your lips, filled with longing. he watches you closely, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with approval. the way he looks at you makes you feel both exposed and exhilarated. you continue to suck on his fingers, drawing them deeper into your mouth, trying to please him as much as he pleases you.

as you do this, he quickens the pace of his fingers inside you, moving with purpose. every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you moan around his fingers, the sound muffled but filled with longing.

“that’s right,” he encourages. “let me hear you.”

the combination of your soft moans and the way he works you sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy. you can already feel the tension building inside you, tightening with every movement. it’s intoxicating, the way he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and how to push you closer to the edge.

he grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “keep going, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice a low rumble. “i want to see you lose control.”

“i... i can’t hold on much longer,” you confess, feeling your body tense and quiver with anticipation. the world around you fades as all you can focus on is the pleasure he gives you, making you feel alive and wanted.

his eyes flash with hunger as he watches you unravel, your desperate moans and the way your body trembles igniting a primal urge within him. he curls his fingers inside you, stroking that perfect spot, determined to push you over the edge. he pumps his fingers into you once more, his palm pressing against you as his hand works between your legs. his other hand pulls away from your mouth, instead gently caressing your cheek. his touch is tender, a stark contrast to the way he’s working your body. with a final, firm stroke, he tips you over the precipice. you shatter, your back arching as waves of intense pleasure wash over you. he silences your cute cries with his lips, kissing you deeply as you convulse around his fingers.

his tongue tangles with yours, swallowing your cries as he draws out your release, his fingers continuing to move inside you, milking every last drop of pleasure from your body. he breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy as he gazes into your eyes, mesmerized by the vulnerability and raw passion he finds there. slowly, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean while holding your gaze. he savors the taste of your essence, his tongue swirling around his fingers as he maintains intense eye contact. a low, approving growl rumbles in his chest at your exquisite flavor. “you taste divine, my dear.”

you barely manage to breathe, your bare chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. his gaze then drops to your heaving chest, admiring the way your full breasts rise and fall. he reaches out, gently cupping one in his large hand, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak. “and these pillows of mine,” he murmurs, “they’re absolutely beautiful.”

he lifts your breast, his thumb continuing to tease the nipple as he leans in to capture it between his lips. he sucks gently, his tiny fangs grazing the sensitive flesh before he releases it with a soft pop. “so perfect for me to play with.”

he switches to your other breast, giving it the same attention as the first. his free hand reaches out to gently pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. “and these cute little nubs,” he murmurs against your breast, “they’re just begging to be played with as well.”

“s-sy!” you whimper, your cheeks flushing with warmth as you playfully swat at his chest, feeling a mix of embarrassment and submission.

with one swift, fluid motion, he removes your soaked panties, leaving you bare before him. his eyes darkens as he took in the sight of you, laid out on his desk, your skin flushed, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. the hunger in his gaze was almost predatory, and you shivered beneath the weight of it.

a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, even though you could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing faintly between your legs. and no, it’s not just a want anymore.

it’s a need.

the need, the aching desire for him, was only growing stronger. he knew exactly how to make you come undone.

“sy…” you whisper, your voice a mix of exhaustion and need. you reach out, your fingers brushing over the sharp lines of his chest as you tried to pull him closer, your body already craving the press of his weight against you. “please… i want you inside me.”

his gaze flickers up to meet yours, his irises swirling with unbridled hunger and desire. his broad chest heaves with a deep inhalation, as if he was trying to draw your scent into his very soul. his fangs descend, his eyes flickering red as the scent of your arousal and the sound of your plea stoked the fire of his hunger.

“my sweet, desperate kitten.” he chuckles darkly, his fingertips tracing up your inner thigh before he gently slipped a finger inside you, testing your readiness. he hummed against your thigh, his breath hot and tantalizing against your damp flesh. his fingers trace up and down your folds, gently exploring as he watches your reactions.

your hips buck against his fingers, desperate for more friction. you muffle your moans with the back of your hand. “p-please, sylus... i-i need... i need more...”

his smirk deepened, a glint of satisfaction flashing in his crimson eyes. “such a good girl when you ask so sweetly,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up your waist, brushing your skin with a tenderness that contradicted the raw hunger burning between the two of you.

he slowly removes his fingers from your heat, leaving you feeling empty and aching. he rises to his knees, his eyes locked onto yours. “think it’s time to give you exactly what you've been craving,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

sylus slowly sheds his clothing, his eyes never leaving yours, and each inch of his body revealed only makes the fire inside you burn hotter. the sculpted muscles of his chest, the firm ridges of his abs, the silver trail of hair that leads lower—all of it is designed to drive you wild. his presence is overwhelming, his dominance palpable, and yet there is something undeniably intimate in the way he undresses before you, his gaze softening just enough to let you see the depth of his desire.

his hands trail over his own body, his touch almost reverent as he reaches for the belt on his pants before unbuckling it then slowly unzips, pushing them down his hips. his manhood juts out—hard, thick and heavy—the tip already glistening. he wraps a hand around himself, giving himself a slow, purposeful stroke.

it’s been a while since you and sylus shared an intimate moment together, so the longing between you both has only grown. with the time apart, every small touch, look, and kiss now feels even stronger, like there’s a build-up you can’t ignore. the excitement is thicker, and there’s this unspoken eagerness to reconnect. you can feel the tension between you, each moment making the anticipation even harder to resist as both of you are pulled back together.

you remember the last time you were together, the warmth of his body pressed so close to yours, every touch lingering like it was meant to last forever. in that moment, his hands had explored every inch of you, memorizing every curve and line as if he couldn’t bear to forget. his voice, soft and deep, had whispered your name like it was something precious, each kiss leaving you feeling cherished and entirely his.

the memory sends a wave of warmth through you, making the present even more intense as you realize how much you missed this closeness. now, with him here again, that same longing stirs inside you, stronger and more eager than before.

when sylus is finally bare, he steps closer, his hands gripping your thighs and parting them even wider. the head of his erection brushes against your core, and you gasp, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk. “look at me,” he orders softly, his hand sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face up so you are forced to meet his red eyes.

the intensity of his gaze sends shivers down your spine. you can see the hunger burning within him, a dark desire that makes your heart race. “i want you to remember this moment,” he continues, his voice low and smooth. “i want you to feel every inch of me inside you.”

you can barely find your voice as you whisper, “i want that too.” the words come out in a breathy rush, your excitement mixing with nervousness.

he brushes a thumb over your cheek, a teasing smile on his lips. “good. because waiting has made me even hungrier for you.” he leans closer, and you can feel his warm breath against your skin, making you tremble. “tell me what you need.”

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “i need you… now,” you finally say, your voice firmer than before. the words come out almost like a plea, and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“that’s my girl,” he replies, his voice thick with desire. he presses the tip of his erection against your entrance, teasing you just enough to make your body ache with need. “are you ready?” he asks, his voice low.

“yes, please,” you respond, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you can’t help but feel a little shy, but his presence makes you feel safe. he gives you a wicked smile, the corners of his mouth curling up in a way that sends a thrill through you.

“good.”

sylus shifts, his hips settling between your thighs, and you could feel the hardness of him pressing against your entrance, slick with your need. the anticipation was almost unbearable, your body trembling beneath him as you wait for him to finally take you.

and then he did.

with one slow, deliberate thrust, sylus sinks into you, the stretch of him filling you completely, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. your mouth fall open in a soundless gasp, your nails digging into his back as he fills you inch by agonizing inch. he is big—almost too much—but the delicious pressure was exactly what you needed, the perfect combination of pain and pleasure that left you breathless.

“fuck…” sylus groans, his voice rough and thick as he buries himself more to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against yours. he pauses there, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he gave you a moment to adjust, his breath hot and ragged against your lips.

“how does that feel?” he asks, his breath hot against your ear. the sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. you whimper softly, your back arching instinctively as he fills you, stretching you perfectly.

oh, horrendously big it hurts.

very enjoyable, however.

“i-i can’t,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “it... h-hurts.”

his body tensed as he slowly pushed forward, his thick length filling you inch by delicious inch. “relax, my love,” he promises, his thumb caressing your cheek as he watches your face for any sign of discomfort. “you can take me, you were made for me,”

he begins to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he thrusts deep inside your welcoming heat. each powerful stroke stretches you deliciously, filling you completely. his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he claimed you thoroughly. “you can handle it,”

your heart pound at his words, your body responding with a fresh flood of arousal as you nod submissively, too breathless to speak.

with each pass of his hips, he hit that sweet spot inside you, making you cry out in pleasure, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so completely—it is intoxicating. you could feel every pulse of him, every twitch, and it make you desperate for more. he leans down to capture your luscious mouth with his own, kissing you deeply as he continues to move within you. his pace quickens, his breathing growing harsher with each passing moment. “you feel so good,” he hisses against your lips, his long fingers tangling in your hair.

it was almost too much—yet not enough. you want more. you need more. “faster, baby…” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his, desperate for him to give you what you crave.

his face contorts with passion, a guttural growl echoing from his chest as he speeds up his rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with each powerful thrust. the sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, accompanied by your moans and his ragged breath. “like that, love?”

you nod eagerly, your fingers digging into his back, your nails scoring his skin. the pleasure is almost too much to bear, the sensation of him moving inside you so intense that your vision begins to swim. he leans down and sinks his teeth gently into your shoulder, making you. the gentle pain pushing you right over the edge.

“more?” he rasps, his fingers sliding down your body to find that sweet swollen nub between your legs. as he pounds deep inside you, he begins to circle it with his fingertips, coaxing you closer to release. his crimson eyes burn into yours.

you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your breath hot against his skin. “s-sylus... i’m so close.”

with that, his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers working you into a frenzy as he continues to thrust hard and fast. he can feel you tensing around him, hear your breath hitching in your throat. “look at me,” he commands softly, his voice laced with dark promise. “i want to watch every expression on your beautiful face as you reach your peak.”

with great effort, you lift your head and lock eyes with him. his face is a mask of concentration, his red irises are dilated, his pupils blown wide with passion. his gaze bores into yours, intense and demanding. one hand grips your hip bruisingly tight as he slams into you, while the other continues its torturous circles.

“sy—!” you are close. so close.

as the pleasure becomes too much, you finally reach the brink, his name spills from your lips like a prayer, your back arching, your nails digging into his flesh, a tidal wave of sensation that leaves you trembling beneath him.

his own control shatters at the sight of you coming undone beneath him. his expression tightens, jaw clenched and little fangs bared as he continues to drive into you, his hips moving like a piston. the hand on your hip slides down to grip your jiggly thigh, hiking it higher around his waist as he growls, “that’s it, love. milk me dry.”

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath washing over your skin as his movements become jerky, his tempo faltering.

then, without warning, sylus’s strong hands are on you in an instant, flipping you onto your stomach with an effortless motion. before you could even process what is happening, he is now behind you, pulling your hips up so that you were on all fours, your bare chest pressing into the cold surface of his desk and your ass raised high for him as you stand on his shoes on your tiptoes. his deep voice drips with dominance as he growls, “stay there, hands planted flat on my desk, back arched... just like that.” his hands roam your curves possessively, squeezing your backside before spreading your cheeks apart to reveal you to his heated gaze.

“sy…” you moan, your body responding instantly to the new position. you could already feel yourself throbbing with need again, the ache between your thighs demanding more of him.

he admires the view for a moment, taking in the sight of your pale, vulnerable ass presented to him. “don’t move.” he rasps, his voice hoarse from exertion. his hands roam freely over your curves, tracing the curve of your backside before giving your ass a light slap. his long fingers trail down your spine, tracing each vertebrae. “you look so beautiful like this.”

you moan, biting your lip in response.

he leans down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your spine, his touch gentle yet firm. his fingers continue to caress and pet you, slowly parting your sweet cheeks again. his breath hitches as he takes in the sight of you, so exposed, so vulnerable. his touch becomes more intimate, his fingers parting your flesh once more to toy with the sensitive pucker hidden between your cheeks. you gasp at the sudden, new sensation, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge of his desk. “sylus...”

he chuckles darkly at your needy whimper, the sound vibrating against your skin. “shhh, just feel...” he hums against your spine, the vibration sending shivers through your body. his fingers continue to tease your ass, occasionally pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive flesh. “let me worship you like this for a moment,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rumbling purr. his fingers continue their teasing exploration, circling your tight hole with maddening slowness before pressing inside ever so slightly, breaching you with a low groan.

he slowly works his thumb deeper, his other hand coming up to splay across your lower back, holding you in place as he claims your body inch by tantalizing inch. you feel so tight, so perfect around him. “mm, you take my finger so well, m’love.”

with his thumb still inside your butthole, sylus uses his other hand to guide his big cock to your entrance, the thick head sliding through your slick folds with ease. your breath hitched in anticipation, your body already quivering as you wait for him to fill you again.

he teases the swollen head of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your arousal. the tip catches on your entrance with each pass, promising penetration. “such a pretty pussy, baby,” he growls, giving your ass a sharp smack, causing you to squeal.

“syyy!” you huff, your voice shaky and breathless as the pleasure begins to build inside you.

he slowly starts to push into you, his thick head stretching you wide, his thumb moving in tandem to stretch you even further. “i’m going to fill you completely, satisfying every inch of this needy little space.”

oh god.

the sensation of being filled in both holes is overwhelming, even deeper than before, is overwhelming. you let out a desperate, mewling cry, your fingers clawing at the desk beneath you as your body adjusts to the new angle, the stretch even stronger like this. his one hand on your hips hold you firmly, keeping you in place as he moves deeper, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your whole body.

the new angle allows him to go deeper, the head of his cock brushing against a spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, it feel like he is reaching parts of you that had never been touched before, and the pleasure is almost too much to bear.

his pace quickens, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself to the hilt within you. the dual sensation of him filling both holes drives you to the brink of madness. you can’t help but push back against him, silently begging for more. your moans fill the room, making him want you even more. sylus’s thrusts grow harder and faster, each one stronger than the last. his hips press against yours with a force that leaves you breathless. the sound of your bodies, the warmth between your thighs, and the heavy breaths you both take—it all comes together in a rush of pure need and desire.

“look at you, taking me so well,” sylus growls, his voice filled with approval as he watches your body move under him. his hands then glide up your sides, moving over your waist and back, before tangling in your hair and gently pulling your head back. this makes your back arch even more. “such a good little slut for me.”

his words send a thrill of heat straight to your core, and you can’t hold back the desperate moan that escapes your lips. your body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as sylus continues to pound into you from behind, his cock filling you over and over again with an intensity that makes your knees weak. with each powerful thrust, the pleasure builds higher and higher, coiling tightly in your core like a spring ready to snap. sylus’s hand tightens in your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you even closer as he grinds into you with hard, deliberate strokes. his free hand reaches down to grab one of your bouncing breasts, squeezing it roughly as he continues to fuck you mercilessly from behind. he pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it between his thumb and index finger as he growls in your ear, causing you to moan in pleasure. “fuck, just look at those tits bouncing around, baby...”

he smirks at your desperate moan, loving how he can make your body react so intensely to his touch. how cute. his hips snap forward again and again, his thick cock stretching you open and hitting that perfect spot deep inside that makes you see stars.

his gaze fixes on your bouncing tits, his eyes burning with a feral hunger. he suddenly pulls out of you and carries you off the desk, finally pinning you against the nearest wall. he spins you around and grabs your legs and throws them over his arms, his cock slamming back into you with brutal force.

holy fuck.

“oh god…” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as the pleasure builds inside you once more. you can feel another orgasm approaching, your body teetering on the edge of bliss, and you know it won’t take much to push you over.

his strong arms hold onto your thighs as he lifts you higher, his hips bucking against yours as he drives into you with raw, animalistic need. his face is buried between your breasts, and he growls like a beast, the vibration against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

his fangs graze over your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before he latches onto your breast, sucking hungrily. mmh, so good. his body rocks into yours, each thrust deliberate and powerful, his body grinding against yours as he buries himself deep inside you.

“come for me, baby,” he growls, his voice low and demanding, muffling against your skin. “i want to feel you come around my cock again.”

his mouth stays latched onto your breast, sucking and nibbling as he continues to fuck you against the wall. the combination of his mouth on your tits, his cock pounding into you, and his arms holding your legs up is too much for your body to handle.

as you reach your climax, your inner walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock. he lets out a satisfied groan, his teeth biting gently into your breast as he sucks in your sweet skin. his hips continue to piston into you, fucking you through your orgasm and prolonging the intense pleasure. his own release barrels through him moments later, his face contorting in ecstasy as he buries his face in your cleavage and roars out his pleasure. his arms tighten around you, his whole body shuddering against yours as he spills himself inside you, their combined fluids dripping down his balls. for a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy, labored breathing of both of you, your bodies still shaking after your intense release. sylus holds you close, pulling you against his strong chest, his arms wrapping around you possessively as you both stay in the dark, your bodies still tangled together.

slowly, he lets your legs down, his arms still wrapping around you to support your boneless body. he nuzzles into your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone. “mine,” he murmurs possessively, his voice laced with satisfaction. carrying you to his desk, he gently sits you down and pulling you into his embrace. his hands roam over your body, caressing your curves with gentle affection. “no one else will ever touch you like this. you are my soulmate, my beloved.”

you melt into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his silky silver hair as you pull his face to yours for a gentle, loving kiss. “and i am yours, forever and always,” you whisper against his soft lips, your heart brimming with love and devotion for the ‘dracula’ who stole your heart since the day you met him.

with a soft smile, sylus gently carries you to the bathroom, cradling you in his arms like a precious princess before removing the fake vampire fangs that both of you wore—along with your high heels.

“let’s get you cleaned up, my love.” he sets you down on the edge of the massive shower, turning on the rain shower head and adjusting the temperature. the warm water begins to cascade down, creating a soothing mist around you. sylus steps in with you, pulling you close so you feel his body heat. he runs his fingers through your hair, the gentle touch calming you as the water washes over both of you.

“are you feeling sore, my love?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern.

“a-a little,” you admit, feeling shy, wincing a little as you shift. it’s true; the experience was intense, leaving you with a pleasant ache. “but it was worth it.”

he chuckles, clearly finding your response cute. “you are such a brave kitten,” he says, brushing his fingers along your cheek. “i admire your strength.”

the water glistens on your skin as he moves down to your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your body. every touch sends small shivers through you, and although you feel sore, his movements are gentle and soothing.

after a few moments, he steps back and takes a look at you, his expression softening. “you are so beautiful,” he says, his voice filled with awe. you smile shyly, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a soft blanket.

as the shower continues to rain down, sylus pulls you close again, wrapping his arms around you tightly. you rest your head against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. it feels safe and comforting.

sigh.

“i love moments like this,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “just you and me, away from the world.”

“me too,” you whisper back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you despite the lingering soreness.

he tilts your chin up gently so you meet his eyes. “i want to take care of you always,” he promises, his gaze serious but warm. “you are my everything.”

you can’t help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth in your chest. “and you are mine,” you reply softly.

as the water continues to flow, he leans in and kisses your forehead gently, a sweet gesture that makes your heart flutter.

after a while, you both step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in soft towels. as you step into sylus’s massive closet, the walls are lined with perfectly organized clothes, shoes, and accessories. the light from the elegant chandelier casts a warm glow, making everything feel cozy despite the opulence surrounding you.

“feel free to pick anything you like,” he says, his tone stoic but with a hint of playfulness as he watches you browse through the neatly arranged clothing. “though i doubt anything will fit you as well as my shirt.”

you chuckle, appreciating his teasing nature. “well, i’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, pulling out a few pieces, including a pair of his boxers. you can’t help but smile at how big they are compared to your small figure.

sylus raises an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his lips. “are you sure you can handle all that fabric? you might get lost in it,” he teases, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against the closet door in a way that exudes both confidence and charm.

“i think i’ll manage,” you say playfully, deciding to slip into the oversized shirt first. as you pull it over your head, you feel the soft fabric drape over you, engulfing your body. it’s comically large, and you can’t help but laugh as it falls past your hips, almost like a dress.

“you look like you raided my wardrobe,” he quips, his voice smooth yet playful as he takes in the sight of you in his shirt. “a very cute burglar, i must say.”

“maybe i’m just here to steal your heart,” you say with a wink, feeling confident in your playful banter.

“clever, but i think you’ve already succeeded in that regard,” he replies, his gaze softening slightly, though he maintains a stoic facade. “now, let’s see what else you can find.”

you rummage through the boxers, holding up a pair that’s comically large. “do you think these will work?” you ask, smirking at him.

“they’ll definitely work. in fact, i might be a little jealous,” he says, feigning seriousness. “but i suppose i can let it slide this time.”

after a few more moments of playful teasing, you finally change into the boxers, feeling even more comfortable. you step back to face him, striking a playful pose. “how do i look now?”

“like you belong in my closet,” he responds, his voice steady yet playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “though i must say, you should have the decency to keep your eyes on me instead of my clothes.”

“and why is that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“because,” he steps closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “i’m the one who wants to see your pretty little face when you wear my clothes.”

you blush at his words, and despite the teasing, there’s something undeniably sincere in his gaze.

“now, how about we get back to that cozy spot in the living room?” he suggests, motioning toward the door.

with a smile, you nod, feeling a warm sense of connection as you both leave the lavish closet behind. sylus leads you to the living room, where he has prepared a little cozy setup with blankets and pillows. “i thought we could have a little halloween movie night,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

you beam at him, feeling grateful for the thoughtful surprise. “that sounds perfect,” you reply, snuggling into the pile of blankets he made for you. sylus settles in beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

he picks out a classic horror movie, and as the opening credits roll, you can’t help but glance up at him. “are you scared?” you tease, noticing how he looks slightly more serious than usual.

“me? scared? never,” he replies with mock bravado, a smirk playing on his lips. “but i will protect you if it gets too intense.”

you laugh, feeling warm and safe next to him. the movie plays on, but every so often, you steal glances at sylus, admiring how comfortable and warm he feels against you. the tension from earlier has melted away, leaving only warmth and affection between the two of you. as the plot thickens and the jump scares come, you find yourself leaning closer to sylus, burying your face in his shoulder during the most suspenseful scenes. he chuckles softly, holding you tighter, his fingers brushing through your hair. “it’s just a movie,” he reminds you gently, but you can hear the playful note in his voice.

after a few movies, you both take a break, sitting in comfortable silence as you munch on halloween-themed snacks he prepared—pumpkin cookies and candy corn. “this is the best halloween ever,” you say, a content smile on your face.

“i agree,” he replies, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “being with you makes everything better.”

as the night goes on, the atmosphere feels intimate and special. you feel a sense of closeness that only deepens with every laugh and shared moment. when the clock strikes midnight, sylus leans closer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. it feels soft and gentle, filled with the warmth of the connection you both share.

“happy halloween, my love,” he whispers against your lips, a soft smile gracing his features.

“happy halloween, sylus. thank you for tonight,” you reply, your heart fluttering at the sweetness of the moment.

“i guess we really made this halloween unforgettable,” he adds, a teasing smirk on his lips.

you laugh lightly, nodding in agreement. “definitely unforgettable.”

with a soft laugh, he pulls you back into the warmth of his embrace. “here’s to many more halloweens together,” he says, his voice filled with promise as you both sink into the comfort of each other, knowing this night will be a cherished memory for years to come.

the end.

hi, thanks for reading all the way to the end! your support means so much to me. i hope you enjoyed this halloween oneshot! feel free to leave your thoughts or feedback; i’d love to hear from you! <3

[vivalabunbun]

Into the Sky of Artificial Stars

Summary: Could a chest that lacks a heartbeat still learn how it would feel? Could the whir of a motor be enough of a substitute?

Word Count: 25k (I will not explain myself)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow burn (oh my), Slow fic (oh boy), SMUT(r18+), NSFW, Researcher!Reader, insomniac!Reader, Android!Alhaitham, Workaholic!Reader, soft!Alhaitham, Modern AU, Android AU, human x android dynamics, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Heavy adult themes, academic trauma, toxic family pressure, toxic academia themes, struggles of poverty and academic inequality, TW: Exploration of grief, death, and guilt, TW: Survivor's guilt and tragedy, exploration of humanity and morality, slight mentions of violence, service top!Alhaitham, test subject to lovers? slightly possessive!Alhaitham? body worship, touch starvation? cunnilingus, he falls hard like a fool, but what is there to catch a fool who tried to reach for an unobtainable star?

Authors Note: This has been in the drafts for a very long time. My first foray into sci-fi kinda? I did my best with jargon and everything, so please forgive any mistakes I've made in regard to the technical stuff. An exploration into an artificial star. Enjoy

Are you just your conscience? 

All the collective thoughts, desires, and ideals that congregate in your mind and influence your every action. Do your thoughts define you?

Are those cognitive functions, formed through a mix of instinct, teachings, and life experiences, what differentiates a man from a featherless biped?

If so, then are algorithms, simulations, and data sets interchangeable with what creates cognitive functions? Theoretically, it gives a machine the ability to develop a conscience. It gives a machine the ability to be human. 

Perhaps, a sterile lab won’t be the most fitting environment to form such a thing.

What if we clothe the machine, provide a roof over its head in a nice quiet house, and feed its mind with the mundane details of existence? Then, could technology bring a machine over the boundary of humanity? 

To engineer a brain, a conscience, a life with bare mortal hands. As if to replicate the gods. To compete with the authority of gods through scientific progression, many warn about the possible repercussions. 

However, if to give and take life is deemed sinful to be done by mortal hands, then what made those unseen gods any different?

Regardless, such philosophical ramblings won’t help you in finishing the half-written report in front of you. 

Looking past the two years' worth of reports sent already, innumerable papers penned by you within the sleep-deprived confines of the Akademiya. With a doctorate framed proudly on bland walls, that should be proof of your ability to type up a simple conclusion, right?

The weighted taps against a backspace key argue otherwise. Frustration leaves your lips in the form of a sigh as you test out a new string of words. Could these few sentences even be comprehensive of the leap in scientific progress made by mankind? 

The shapes of letters merge together, forming incomprehensible blotches of black pixels against the white backdrop. Quickly, your lids shut to offer your eyes some much-needed reprieve from the harsh light of the monitor.

It was quite naive of you to believe subjecting your weary eyes to the punishment of light mode would drive up productivity.

Your fingers remove themselves from the keyboard, perhaps your body’s stubborn protest against sitting at the desk for another minute. Maybe a coffee break is an order. 

You shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself, there hasn’t been a precedent for an experiment like this. A collaboration between the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan, the first of its kind.

Perhaps the real marvel is how the weight of their combined egos hasn’t sunk this project into the depths of abandonment. 

With a subtle squeak, your office chair rolls back granting you permission to stand up and stretch your weary limbs. Letting out a slight groan as signs of time made themselves known to your bones. The ramifications of your negligence. 

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely stride toward the kitchen. As you make your way to the end of the long, empty hallway a silvery hue steals your attention.

Slightly obscured by the oak door frame to your home library stood the culmination of your years of overtime and long nights. A surge of anticipation places a slight weightlessness on your legs.

Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view. 

Structure much more nimble and organic than the gardemeks framework, with materials sourced from the finest suppliers. The most advanced software and artificial intelligence capabilities ever developed since the Akasha.

The first and only of his kind: The Android Alhaitham. 

The said pinnacle of human ingenuity and knowledge is currently flipping through a paperback book as the sunlight illuminates his synthetic skin.

The bounce light made his silver locks glimmer. As your steps slowed to a stop, he took notice of your presence. A soft snap of pages closing resounds through the passive air as Alhaitham turns his focus to you. 

Your gaze ran along the neat spines lining each shelf, a small stack of unsorted books still left by his feet, but this morning there were numerous identical piles littered all over the library.

He seems to not have any issues making progress on his assigned tasks, a great sign. 

You note that his button-down was a different color today, a sign that he’s practicing switching to a new set of clothes regularly.

A sign of routine, developing habits, and showing his steady learning of human behavior. 

The frustrations from an unfinished report fade into obscurity as the subject of your research continues to observe your form. How easy it is to forget the big picture when you stress over the small details.

With this gentle reminder, a soft curl tugs at the corners of your lips. 

Alhaitham repositions his stance, turning his body to face you, you figure he must be anticipating another task from you. Since he seems to be mostly done with his previous one, why not assign a new one?

“Could you brew me a cup of coffee, Alhaitham?” As he processes your request, you inspect his teal eyes, catching the slight glow signaling that his response is ready. 

“I could, but unfortunately the interval of opportunity has already passed.” His baritone voice articulates. 

A subtle quirk made its debut on your brows as your eyes shifted toward a clock hanging up in the corner of the study, its ticking hands displaying the time: 5:15 p.m. 

“Huh… you won’t grant me an extension?” You turn back to him. 

“If you have a request then please state it between my working hours of 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., you’re always free to submit again tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t budge. An android capable of autonomous training and self-study is different from those gardemeks who only function when given tasks. The ability to develop self-awareness, consciousness, and to think comes with its own caveats.

In Alhaitham’s case, his stubborn nature. Conceivably, he likely reviewed Sumeru’s labor laws and decided that he was entitled to such labor rights as well. 

“I work overtime almost every day for your research and development, but you can’t spare me 15 minutes?” Your lips form a pout, but you already predicted his next output. 

“Your poor work-life balance is not my responsibility.” 

Your prediction was correct. 

Another sigh leaves your lips, it’s just one of the trade-offs you must accept. After all, learning to be a human is the reason why he was created. A feat once thought to be unachievable. But he exists, and he’s developed quite a character. 

To change the trajectory of this conversation you glance at the book held within his hold. 

“Frankenstein by Mary Shelly?” You read the title aloud. 

“Yes, the 1831 edition, it’s quite the story.” Alhaitham opens the covers once more. 

“Mm, maybe I should be more cautious of what information you come across.” A subtle grin tugging at the corners of your lips as his teal eyes land back on you. 

“It’d be a bit of an issue if you were to turn against me from the wrong influences.” Resting your body against the oak doorway as you observe the android process your jest. 

“There are safety restrictions already in place to prevent such occurrences, the possibility is near zero. However, if you are still concerned then feel free to upload a list of banned materials for the next version update.” 

A huff of a chuckle escapes you as you shift more of your weight against the wooden frame. 

“Of course, of course, just remember to place your books back where you found them.” Pushing off the doorway, you allow Alhaitham to continue his unsupervised learning as you amble closer to the kitchen. 

The soft clinking of cups and spoons chime through the evening air as you scoop a few ounces of ground coffee into the brewer.

As the water slowly brings itself to a low rumble, you occupy your wait staring out the glass and at the setting sun. The flaming scarlet hues and warmth blend into mellow indigo as the night begins to reveal her stars. 

Dusk, when the line between day and night blurs to an indistinguishable mess. Would a singularity also look as luminous as the setting sun? The answer might be closer than ever before. 

The reaction to the announcement of an android development project was at first astonishment, that human knowledge had progressed this far. And the secondary reaction that followed like ripples was fear. Fear that humans will soon be replaced by beings of silicon and steel.

That a singularity would signal the end of humanity. 

Well, this was always the common reaction to disruptive change. Many cases of public pushback and hysteria against innovations you can reference throughout history. The human reaction to the unknown. 

They always gossip and fearmonger about an android domination of all of Teyvat. But have those people ever stopped to consider that the android could simply be too lazy to have such ambitions?

Instead of becoming cruel overlords, they’d rather leave books strewn about as they dock themselves into their charging port. 

To learn to be human means to learn human slothfulness too, no? Or maybe Alhaitham’s algorithm just decided to train himself to incorporate it. What a peculiar enigma he is, this android currently residing in your house. 

Your thoughts circle back to a certain novel you haven’t touched in years. A work of science fiction written by a genius author barely over the cusp of adulthood. 

You wonder how she would’ve described this impending singularity. 

A distant toll rang from the depths of a dreamless void, each chime reaching closer and closer until the bright tune devolved into jarring blares. Piercing enough to set your heavy lids into motion.

Just as they peeked open, they flinched back shut from a stray ray that snuck between the gaps of your curtains. 

Your leaden body groans at the brightness of the room, the luminosity much greater than when you had originally settled under the covers. Yet, even with your groggy complaints the alarm resting on the nightstand offered no mercy, continuously bellowing its monotone pitch. 

With a sharp slap, your world returns to its silence. 

Angling the alarm towards you as you creak open one eye, the blurry red pixels slowly merge together to display the time. 

Didn’t you have a meeting scheduled for today? 

Another groan follows your dreadful discovery and you roll back under the plush blanket. Not much different from a child trying to protect themselves from the grasp of a fictitious monster.  

Soft comforters block the morning glow contained behind thick curtains, yet your permission to access a blank serenity was denied. It seems that your quota for sleep has been fulfilled.

Barring you from any excess repose, not that you expected anything less. A monster that torments a young mind might be fictitious, but the realities of capitalistic responsibilities unfortunately aren’t.

Taking in a deep inhale, you prep your body for the next set of dreaded actions with its drowsy limbs. Before it had the chance to protest, you kicked the covers off, ripping away the warm security from your skin. 

Ambling down the hall you gradually made your way into the kitchen, there under the morning light sat a steadfast figure whose eyes never left the book in front of him. 

“Good Morning.” You initiate the first conversation of the day.

“Congratulations.” 

You pause, hand in the midst of rubbing away the tiredness of your eyes. Staring perplexingly at his sudden praise. Alhaitham’s focus remains on his novel even as he answers your unasked question.

“You’ve beat your previous record of how many alarms it takes to get you out of bed, I believe it went off five times this morning.” 

A few beats of uninterrupted silence follow the aftermath of his response. A chain broken by a deep sigh which leaves your body.

“It’s far too early for this, Alhaitham.” Your hand goes back into motion, this time attempting to rub away frustration.

“Spare me your sarcasm until after you’ve made me breakfast and a cup of coffee.” 

From the glance you took at your clock from earlier, it’s currently well into his operational hours.

“Understood.” Setting the book down, his tall frame makes its way into the kitchen. 

Settling down at the lacquered table, your seat grants you a clear view of your android collecting some eggs from the refrigerator. Even as the hands of fatigue beckon your lashes to flutter shut, you refuse to indulge in such luxuries.

You had to watch just in case he decided his book couldn’t wait.

A series of trials and errors already well documented in those weekly reports back to the Akademiya and Institution. A human in training is bound to have some mishaps occur, or more accurately, this android might have different priorities.

One notable case was the time you asked Alhaitham to clean the floors while you attended a conference call. Only to step into puddles of soapy water the moment you leave your office door.

Connecting eyes with teal as he stood in the middle of it all mop in hand. For the time being, you’ve barred him from such tasks. 

Although, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a mess just as an excuse to sit back on the couch with a book. This fickle android of yours. Your third sigh of the day. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The tranquil afternoon interlude that enveloped the house was interrupted by a sharp chime. Glancing at the numbers displayed on the corner of your screen, it looks like it’s right on schedule.

You had just concluded your monthly conference call, it’d be good to stretch your legs a bit after sitting through a few hours of professional formalities. 

Leaving your home office to journey toward the front door, you spot Alhaitham’s frame by the entranceway. His head turns to acknowledge your presence. Passing him to make your way to the front door, you hear him shift closer.

Soon the brilliance of a star pours into the entranceway, illuminating the hall as the door opens.

“Good afternoon, grocery delivery?” The young man on the steps greets, a strain in his polite tone as bags weigh down on his arms. 

“Yes, there was a last-minute addition of henna berries, were you able to get those?”

“Yep, they’re in one of these bags.” 

“Thank you, sorry for the trouble, I’ll take it from here.” You cast a glance over your shoulders back at a tall form standing idly. 

“Please come help with the groceries.” 

“Understood.” It took only a few strides for the burden weighing down on the delivery boy, effortlessly hanging them all on his engineered arms without a hint of strain. 

“Careful, they’re heavy, mister-” The warning dies at the tip of the young man’s tongue as his wide eye reflects the artificial glow of teal irises. 

It’s best to end this trial now, to prevent a commotion or disturbing the delivery boy who isn’t paid enough to be frightened. You could see it in the slight tremble of his agape mouth as his brain processed the thing in front of him. 

“Thank you again, please don’t mind him, have a great day.” Before you could hear his response, the door was shut. 

A bit rude according to societal norms, but you’re sure a generous gratuity bonus paid on top of the delivery fee is enough to stifle any disgruntlement. Considering his reaction, it looks like your hypothesis remains correct.

The people of Teyvat still need more time to adjust to the existence of androids. Just because science progresses, it doesn’t mean human acknowledgment moves at the same rate.  

Turning away from the door, a pair of glass irises connect with yours, a sheen of expectancy just under the brilliant teal hue. Alhaitham stands there with the bags still hanging from his arms. 

“If you already know what I’m about to assign you, then you should just take the initiative, Alhaitham.” You huff. 

“It’s not a bad habit to wait for any specific instructions.” Came his baritone rebuttal.

“Just take those to the kitchen.” 

“Understood.” He pivots away, taking slow steps toward the kitchen. 

“Ah, sort them into the fridge and cupboards too, do not just dump them on the counter.” You warn, learning from your previous mistakes. 

Seriously, Alhaitham has long evolved past needing step-by-step detailed prompts, thus you suspect it's merely an act of his.

You’ve watched his character develop, his habits form, and his routine take shape. Just where did he learn such behavior? This strange android of yours. 

You watch as he carries the numerous bags without a hint of strain. Alhaitham was much better suited for carrying your week’s worth of rations from the market. Unfortunately, he is proprietary technology.

Clearance to allow an android out into the world hasn’t been granted yet. 

Not that you were eager to receive it. The logistics of such an event are a nightmare to plan. The protocols needed in emergencies to ensure the safety of civilians and the millions of mora poured into his creation. 

There’s always a nonzero chance his system gets overloaded from trying to analyze every blurred face in a crowd. A nonzero chance that he would simply wander beyond the merchants and their fruit stalls. A nonzero chance that the gem implanted between his collarbones could spark curiosity. 

Those same curious eyes could catch onto the artificial glow of teal irises, morphing curiosity into terror. 

Even in Fontaine where it was more common for machines to walk among crowds, they were always designed to look like machines. Their clockwork pieces are obvious and distinguishable, a design choice to bring comfort to the mortal psyche.

An easy way for a human to differentiate a person and a thing. If that line becomes blurred, then…

With a deep sigh, you reel your thoughts back from their philosophical journey. Regardless, it’d be a problem for the future to handle.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Soft clacks resound from the keyboard as a new string of words appears on your screen, documenting the events of the day on your laptop as you sit on your sofa.

The soft cushions are a welcomed change from a stiff office chair. Just over the top of your screen, Alhaitham sat across from an adjacent couch. Methodically folding a basket of laundry and sorting them into piles. 

An easy enough task for him, but as you watch you make sure to note down the improvements in his motor skills and dexterity. Movements organic and fluid, much like those of a human.

It truly is astonishing just how far technology has progressed, from clockwork pieces and clunky steps to the specimen sitting just a few steps away. 

A tall and sturdy frame, well-portioned face with handsome teal irises, and synthetic starlight hair. Features created from the finest equipment and materials, a truly magnificent piece of scientific progress.

Amid your appreciation for his structure, Alhaitham halts all motion, setting down the towel back into the basket. Resulting in your eyebrows creasing together. 

“What’s wrong Alhaitham? Did you forget how to fold a towel?” 

Alhaitham did not attempt to entertain your jest, so much so, that he simply stared past you. Teal eyes honing in on an object just beyond you, never breaking focus to discern the bewilderment on your face.

Finally relenting, you follow his stare toward a clock, reading the time: 5:00 p.m. 

“Seriously? You haven’t finished folding the laundry yet,” you remark in utter exasperation. 

The teal glow of his eyes shows that he’s received your remark, yet he doesn’t make an effort to return a verbal response. He chooses instead to simply continue staring at the time as his hands wait by his side in opposition.

Him staring at a clock, you staring at him, a one-sided showdown. 

A naughty cat prancing about a countertop where it shouldn’t be could simply be picked up and removed.

A disobedient dog dirtying the couch with its muddy paws could be lured off with the sight of a treat.

But an android? What are you going to do to an android whom you had to tilt your head up to make eye contact with? 

This wasn’t a hill you’re willing to die on, thus with a dismissive wave of your hand, you concede. Allowing Alhaitham to do as he pleases, which he graciously does. His form leaves the couch, heading in the predictable direction of the library as a deep sigh leaves you.

This stubborn android of yours, you made sure to document this on today’s report. Just as how it was yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that. 

Hopefully, in the event of an actual android apocalypse, he might show you the same leniency. You couldn’t help but scoff at your ridiculous musings. A machine with nothing but a motor and battery in his chest, would he understand leniency even if you were to code it into him? 

Soon his frame comes back into view, a pile of books clutched within his hold, just as you predicted. Shamelessly, he sits in the middle of his unfinished chores while leisurely scanning the pages in front of him. 

This fickle, strange, and stubborn android follows the rhythm of his own motor regardless of what protocols you instill.

Yet, as you watch his fingers flip through the worn book and take up space on your couch, a smile develops on your features. A soft curl of your lips, easily obscured by the screen of your laptop. 

A fickle, strange, and stubborn android is not too different from a person, one who had a heartbeat.

An android who takes up space on your couch and house, making it a bit less empty than previously. That was good enough. 

What made man? Intellect? Innovation? Language? 

This was the dilemma assigned to him since the very first time his system powered up in that facility, welcomed into this world by glaring fluorescent lights and the numerous stares of figures in white coats.

A dilemma that follows him even to his current place on a spacious couch.

According to sources pulled from the Akasha and cross-references from numerous printed materials made available to him, many throughout history have been pondering this same conundrum. A philosopher once defined man as featherless bipeds. 

However, wouldn’t this make a plucked chicken a man too? A definition so ambiguous a mere student proved the teacher wrong. 

Then, is man defined by their flesh? Having skin and bones instead of silicon parts and metal components? To have blood pumped by a heart instead of operating off a battery and motor? Was it biology that defined man?

But if that was the simple truth, then why was Frankenstein’s creation addressed as nothing more than a monster?

From his arms to his legs to his mind, everything which made up that creature was human. He had blood, he had flesh, he had bones. So why was he chased away by flaming torches and pitchforks as a mob screamed ‘monster’? Why was a creature made from human flesh not human?

His train of thought halts as a familiar set of steps patter against the floor. Automatically, his sights hone in at the corner of a wall even before your face reveals itself from behind it. 

Teal-colored eyes refocus to catch the subtle perk of your eyebrows and widened eyes. An expression of surprise he analyzes, his immediate focus must have caught you off guard.

Did you have some other test outlined for him? Did you need to collect more data from earlier today? Another household task perhaps? 

How unfortunate, the hour on the clock read half past 8 p.m. Have you not learned from your tardiness the week prior?

“If you have a request, then please wait until 9 a.m. tomorrow when I’m within my business hours.” 

Even with the wall partially obscuring your form, the restrained giggle through lips fighting back a grin was picked up by his audio system. 

“No, no, there’s no more tasks for today.” 

As your gaze centers on him, he takes note of the refractions of fluorescent lights along your irises.

“Then is there something you’d like to discuss?” He prompts. 

“Mm… no, not right now.”

His stone-faced stare was enough of a response, judging by the smile spreading across your features.

“I just felt like checking up on you, after all, you are the most proprietary piece of technology at the moment.” 

At times like these, Alhaitham felt that the audio cue of a sigh was the most effective communication out of all the languages created by man. Muffed chuckles accompany it. 

“I’ll leave you be then.” 

The floorboards trill under your steps as you amble towards the kitchen. Alhaitham returns to the last few pages still left open on his lap. 

Small tinkering from beyond the living room serves as an ambient tune. The swift opening and closing of a refrigerator door. A harsh pull on a microwave door is contrasted by the bright beeps of buttons, leading to a low hum.

He hypothesizes there to be some leftovers spinning around. 

After the microwave sang its concluding chimes, the clatter of a plate follows a firm tug. A drawer rattles open, metal clinking against metal as you sift around for the right utensil. The drawer rattles again as it closes. 

Rhythmic footsteps take center stage as they trail back down an empty hall, Alhaitham waits to hear the resounding click of a door returning to its frame. Just as the final echo of the click sounds out through the air he places the finished novel on the coffee table. 

Leaving the comfort of the cushions, he makes his way to the kitchen to access the aftermath. A microwave door left wide open, a drawer only halfway closed, and of course another dirty coffee mug in the sink. 

Returning the microwave and drawer to their rightful states, his teal eyes count the pile of cups sitting since this morning. A collection that grew throughout the day. 

Alhaitham looks up in the direction of your office. A soft glow leaked out from under the gap of the door, bleeding light into the dim hall. His systems identify the audible taps of a keyboard and the occasional shift of an office chair. He deduces that you were working overtime again. 

He found it a bit ironic at times. A body of mechanical components has no qualms about lounging on a sofa. But you, a creature of flesh and blood, refuse to submit to the allure of rest. Although, Alhaitham wouldn’t find it too implausible that coffee ran through those veins of yours instead. 

Repetitive clacks of keys and mouse clicks play a melody he had heard ever since the first day he opened his eyes.

A tune that accompanies the rhythm of his steps and motions when he goes about his tasks as you document them.

A lullaby that plays after his routine tasks as he heads back to his charging port when you log a daily report. 

An accompaniment to the silent moon and her stars as you stay up at a desk. 

Needing to reach the next exit criteria. Needing to collect the next set of data. Needing to submit the next report. 

Would it be because a body of flesh has agency? With cells in a losing race against time, was there something you wanted to attain within your mortal hands from this research before the race ended?

Or did you just want to fill the vacant lull of this house with those little taps of a keyboard?

Regardless, it’s not within his capacity to disturb your work. Thus all he could do was roll up his sleeves, turn on the running water, and pick up a sponge. Scrubbing the cups with warm soapy water, imitating the motions you’ve shown him before, until the dried stains vanish. 

If it’s not featherlessness, if it’s not bipedalism, and if it’s not flesh… then could it just be agency that made him different from you? 

Maybe he’ll ask you another day, placing the cups into the dish rack. 

Sorting and organizational tasks are his strong suit, in other words, he’s very good at completing easy jobs. Leaving the more… tedious chores to you.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you rest on the handle of the broom. The hallway between your office and the bedrooms is the last section that needs to be swept. 

Alhaitham was likely back in his place on the couch, book in hand as he lounged around. Weren’t androids created in hopes of making life easier?

 So much for that, you internally huffed, repositioning your grip on the broom. A soft but bright clink catches your attention. Glancing down, you quickly discover the source. A ring wrapped around your finger.

Kept on your finger for so long, it’s become almost an extension of yourself, this keepsake piece of jewelry. 

Abandoning the broom against a wall, your other hand fiddles with the gold band. A frown forms upon your lips when a faint scratch shows itself on the gold surface

Gingerly, you remove the ring, pinching it between your fingers as you hold it up to the light, examining the damage closer. The shine of its once-polished surface was dulled by trivial scuffs and dents, damaged by the signs of time.

Regrettably, it seems you’ve been neglecting it as well. 

So much so, that the ring felt compelled to remove itself from your grasp in protest. Slipping out of your tender hold, which propels you into motion, graceless attempts at catching the small piece of jewelry to no avail. 

 It soon collides with the wooden floor as a chime rings out, still, gravity didn’t buy you enough time to catch the evasive gem. For it then decides to run under the gap of a door, disappearing from your sight. Leaving you there in defeat. 

Taking a deep inhale, holding it for a few seconds, you release the air in your lungs. Returning your gaze up from the wood grain, you stare at the obstacle in front of you: a mere door. 

Its brass knob gleams as if to taunt you, daring you to open it, to face what lay beyond. Slowly, you release your clenched fingers, setting your hand back into motion. You’re far too grown to be scared of a room in your own home, especially when you know what is behind it. 

Its hinges ring out in surprise, it’s been a while since they were opened. The daunting door opens up to reveal a lackluster collection of old furniture, picture frames, and various other assortment of items.

Their forms all covered by plain sheets thrown over them, silhouettes, outlined like ghost. A slight tickle appears in your nose from the layers of dust you disturbed. 

A poor, unfortunate room you’ve designated as storage, where items go to be neglected. You were busy enough with work as it is.

To avoid seeing the reminders of responsibilities you’ve been pushing off, you’d rather throw them behind a door. Out of your sight, out of your mind. 

The sooner you find that ring, the sooner you can turn a blind eye to the various items you’ve long abandoned yet refused to let go of. Amongst the dull dust and sheets, it wasn’t very hard to spot the golden glimmer from peaking through. 

Trudging towards the mischievous ring, you kneel to finally catch it within your hand. Such a troublesome thing, you chide as you stand back up. Bracing your other hand on the nearest sheet-covered surface, only for it to come into contact with an odd object.

Startled, you instinctively hold onto both the ring and the odd object as you jolt back up. Glancing down at your hands, your eyes finally identify the object. 

A collection of tiny planets and stars dangling from thin strings glimmered with the soft light creeping in from the afternoon sun. A soft smile made its way to your lips.

How silly it was that a toy made to entertain young infants had you so enraptured. You bought it on a whim, then tossed it into the depths of a dust-covered room. And yet it’s now back in your hands. Perhaps the beckoning of the stars still calls for you. 

A part of you wonders if it was your fascination with the night sky that caused sleep to evade you. Sitting up on a mattress well past bedtime to gaze out to the vast ocean of dazzling and blinking lights that dotted against a navy backdrop. While the pristine radiance of the moon reflected off your irises. 

Or did your fascination develop because it was always the moon and her stars that silently accompanied your long nights?

Gentle lights who lent you their well wishes and encouragement as you anguished through assignments and exams. 

What an honor it was for you to be able to witness her beauty so often. It was a pity that some, who disregarded her grace in favor of dreams, weren’t able to experience the brilliance of a starry night.

Maybe your parents fell in the category of the majority. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t even fathom such a thing. 

A past conversation over an old wooden table started in your mind before you could muster the strength to push it back. 

–----

“C’mon, eat, eat.” Your mother places a hearty serving of Biryani in front of you. 

The old kitchen table groaned under the weight of the spread of dishes on its surface. To call it anything short of a feast would be a lie. The walls of the modest home are filled with a variety of rich aromas and spices. 

“You have to eat to study harder, don’t think just because you made it into the Akademiya you can take it easy now.” Your father remarked. 

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.” You picked up your fork. 

Letting out a chuckle, he pats your back as a rare smile graced his stern face. Your mother’s face mirrored the same radiance, the beaming glow of pride. For you, their daughter, their only child, and only hope had been accepted into the Akademiya. 

The most prestigious university of all of Sumeru and Teyvat, with millions competing for those few spots each and every year. Only the best of the best, only those who outshone the rest, and only those gifted and blessed would ever be admitted.

Yet, you were sent a letter from the oh-so-grand institution. 

A child from a town far away in the shadows of the grand Akademiya was accepted.

What were the odds of that? For a child whose own parents never got the opportunity for higher education to become the first to go off to university? The cause of this celebratory feast. 

The warm Spring breeze contributed to the sweetness of this small moment in time, as plates were passed and glasses clanked.

All those scattered notes, cramped hands, and revisions have rewarded you with the golden brilliance of sunrise after endlessly long nights. 

A smile crept up the corners of your lips. A light has finally appeared to illuminate this trending path you’ve climbed. 

Your father washed down his previous bite with a sip from his cup, placing it down before he began his next question:

“Have you decided on which Darshan to go into?” 

The sweet breeze turns into a chill down your spine as your fork halts its motion. The dilemma you have been dreading has finally arrived at the kitchen table. 

You had to memorize every mathematical formula. You had to pinpoint every detail in a historical timeline. You had to know every syntax of a sentence. You had to understand the molecular structures of life. 

A child had to learn everything, and now they had to pick something to learn. How would the child know? The child only knew how to study. 

“Amurta? Spantamad? Oh, what about Kshahrewar? I heard that it was also good.” Your mother chimed in. 

“Amurta?” Your father scoffed a bit. 

“Dear, as if this tuition isn’t expensive enough, think of how much med school will cost.” 

“Oh I know, I know, but you know how well doctors get paid! I heard those labs also give a decent salary.” Your mother reasons. 

“Ah, but it takes too long. Engineering isn’t half bad either, there’s been a demand for more engineers recently.” Your father takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh, but it’s not up to us,” she turned to face you. 

“It’s up for our little scholar now isn’t it?” 

A paradoxical question, because your options were already decided for you from the very start.

Carefully selected paths were already laid out before you as your parents watched on with expecting eyes, waiting for your foot to take a step on the path they wanted most. 

Poking at a stray grain of rice on your plate, you gather up the scattered pieces of courage. You were a child who only knew how to study, yet, a child is still susceptible to dreams, no?

“I have thought about it.” You began.

“And?” Your mother couldn’t help but nudge you to continue. 

“I was thinking about Rtawahist,” you confessed. 

It was as if even the sweet Spring air wanted to escape the now-still walls, leaving dread to fill the void it had left. No dishes were passed, no utensils rattled, and no cups clinked. Just bewildered stares you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. 

“Rtawahist? As in the school that looks at the sky?” Your father’s face had returned to its stern default. 

“Astronomy? Yes, that’s the Darshan that studies Astronomy.” Your eyes didn’t dare leave your plate. 

Among the options selected by them from their perceptions of future opportunities and prestige for you. You dare interject with one of your own. 

A deep sigh sealed your fate. 

“Astronomy? You want to study Astronomy? And get what job?” 

The pierce from your father’s harsh tone made you flinch, even though you expected it. 

“You can look at the stars for free, why would I pay to send you to school to study something so useless?”

“There are jobs for Astronomy.” You reasoned. 

“Like what?” His finger drummed against the wood. 

“Like-” 

You made the mistake of looking up from your plate, the fragile wisps of courage dissipated like smoke the moment you did. All the arguments and rebuttals you had prepared vanished along with it. The frown that pulled down your father’s face and the scrunched brow concern of your mother’s were enough to snuff out your pitiful rebellion. 

“Go on.” He challenged. 

“...” 

“That’s what I thought.” Your father snatched up his cup. 

Your focus retreated back to your plate, recentering on the grains of rice you pushed around with the ends of a fork. A motion that continued until another hand stopped yours. 

“Little one…” Your mother began. 

Her thumb traced over your fidgeting hand, a touch which comforted yet scorned you all at once. 

“You know that lady who lived down the street? Her son got a career working with computers and now they live in a big house, doesn’t that sound nice?”

You hummed. 

“Kshahrewar isn’t so bad, right? Just a few years and then you can get a good job.” 

Yes, she had spelled out the purpose of your studies like red-inked corrections on a test. It was how it always was, why did you think it would change now?

Having to prove you deserved the food on the plate in front of you.

Having to bring home top grades to prove all those books and materials were worth it.

Having to get a job that could break this cycle your parents were trapped in. How else would you be able to pay them back? 

It was their mora, earned from long hours and labor, that fed you, clothed you, and sheltered you. They made your world with their calloused hands. It was their justification to command it as well. You were their only child, their only investment. 

This was the dilemma imposed upon you. 

–----

Your fingers clench around the childish imitation of the night sky, running the plastic surfaces under your mindless touch. Thoughts still light years away in the recesses of your memories. 

How silly, for someone who loved the planet and the stars so much how did you forget that one fascinating detail? Planets orbit a sun because of gravity.

It was the force of a greater mass that commanded the lesser, it was what kept a planet going round and round within its grasp. It was the gravity of the sun that gave a planet a direction, a path to follow, a purpose even. 

Perhaps it’s because the sun knew what was best for its little planet.

It was the diplomas framed nicely on a wall that granted you a secure job, it was your cushy job that permitted you to purchase this cushy home. 

Your parents planned this out long ago, thus you merely just followed. 

However, when the sun disappears, when the central mass that gave a small planet a purpose disappears, what would the little planet do? 

Drifting endlessly in a vacuum of nothingness, with no direction, no path, no light. No day or night and an endless Winter, would it be as if the world stopped spinning.

That little planet would be no different than a cold lump of rock in a vast emptiness. 

A sharp creak pierces through the tormentful quietude, a chirr that reels your thoughts back to a dusty room. Head instinctively following the direction of the noise, you fixate on the doorway.

Catching the diffused afternoon sun glimmering in silver locks reminiscent of starlight. 

Alhaitham stands silently at the threshold of the door, its frame perfectly centering him as his teal eyes analyze you. Not a single engineered limb crossed the boundary of the dusty room. Just as it was defined in a set of restrictions implemented into his system by you. 

As evidenced by his unintentional disregard for his environment, the floorboards bearing witness to his careless execution of chores, you restricted him from this decrepit room.

Although all it contains is a chaotic collection of trinkets and keepsakes, the dust-coating provides them with a blanket of security. You saw no reason to change it. 

A telling teal glow blinks momentarily before Alhaitham breaks the lull.

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

It was just now that you noticed the wet trails rolling down your cheeks. Wiping away the cooling dampness on your skin, you confirmed the presence of tears. Your senses took their time returning from their escapade.

Alhaitham remains in his spot, patiently awaiting your next response. How embarrassing it is, to be seen in such a state by a being who could shed no tears. Quickly, you wipe away the trails on your other cheek.

“I’m fine, just lost in thought for a moment.” Swiftly you place the toy down.

A smooth weight encased in the palm of your hand reminds you of the ring, the item that lured you into this dusty room.

Perhaps it should be best to have let it remain undisturbed on your finger. It’s a common wives’ tale that keepsakes ward off bad omens. 

“Is that truly all?” He made a no move, his eyes rescanning the environment as if unconvinced by your answer. 

You wonder if it’s because of some protocol or conditional in his software. Safety measures set in place during this test of whether an artificial being could live in harmony with mortals. 

However, as you gaze upon your magnum opus the specifics of programming and software fade into irrelevancy. Trailing your eyes up from his teal irises to his starlight silver trusses that glimmered in the soft light, revealing a hint of mint. It took you a while to find that exact shade during his manufacturing stage. 

There’s always a chance that a drifting planet could be caught in the orbital pull of another. Whether it be man-made or not didn’t matter.

As long as it was of a significant mass its gravity should be enough to pull a lonely planet from its aimless wanderings. It can set the stray planet into a new orbit, giving it a new path. 

A small lump of rock could find a new star to center around. 

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” 

You will be fine. Slowly, and with one step after another, you will be fine one day. 

The typical 24-hour day for a working adult can be broken down into a set schedule. Waking up at around 8 a.m. to wash one’s face and brush their teeth as they make themselves presentable for work. Followed by a light breakfast or a cup of coffee before. 

Some then start their commute to work or jump onto their desktop to clock in around 9 a.m. to begin their work. In the middle of their shift, usually around noon, they are granted a one-hour lunch break, after that they work until 5 p.m. when they finish their work. 

Coming back home to enjoy dinner around 7 p.m. followed by an hour or two of leisure before a bedtime routine begins. Washing the day's influences off oneself, brushing their teeth, and changing into comfortable attire.

If they want to get a restful 8 hours of sleep they cannot go to bed any later than 10:45 p.m. to account for the 15-minute downtime to allow the body to enter the sleeping state. 

This cycle then resets and repeats just as the sky cycles through the sun and moon. A typical and average reality for most adults in Sumeru. Well, from the data he pulled from the Akasha, this was the typical day for the average working civilian. 

It just so happens that you’re a stray data point skewing the graph.

If he were to estimate your bedtimes from the activity of your desktop and laptop, it would be a chaotic set of timestamps ranging from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m., sometimes the activity on your devices never ceased. An indication of what is referred to as an ‘all-nighter’.

Behavior that might be acceptable for those attending the Akademiya, but certainly not for a working adult. 

At this moment, Alhaitham stood in the hall just a few steps away from your bedroom door. His frame remained motionless to avoid disturbing the floorboards beneath him.

Taking into account your device’s activities, Alhaitham estimates your bedtime was 4: 45 a.m. this morning. Given how your alarm is set to around 8 a.m., amounting to about 3 hours of sleep.

Not even half of the recommended time by Sumeru’s health administration. 

By all means, Alhaitham finds it confounding how you’re still able to perform so efficiently at your job, managing both the Insitute and Akademiya while operating on a few morsels of sleep.

He wonders if that was the reason why you were selected as the personnel who’s facilitating his learning. 

Perhaps, they hoped he’d emulate your work ethic and efficiency. How unfortunate, his self-learning pivoted him away from such conduct. 

As he stands observing the woodgrain of your door, Alhaitham finds himself at a crossroads. It’s not within his capacity to interfere, conditionals coded into his software to prevent him from disrupting your privacy.

Laws mandating the privacy of employees and civilians alike.

Simultaneously, there are protocols instilled in him that instruct him to prevent harm from befalling you. 

A contradiction. Something that would cause a regular system to return an error as it fails to satisfy one conditional while trying to work within the bounds of another. 

Chronic sleep loss results in an increased risk of heart attacks, strokes, and hypertension.

Long-term sleep loss also results in impaired memory and concentration, although it’s not affecting your productivity now, it doesn’t mean it won’t decline soon.

These statistics were all provided by Sumeru’s health administration. 

The effects on the brain are quite severe as well, with increased feelings of stress, anxiety, and depression.

A quiet afternoon scene replays, in a dust-covered room, where he found you staring off at nothing as silent rivulets rolled down your cheeks.

That memory stored within his RAM was enough for Alhaitham to come to his conclusion. 

Alhaitham must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

To allow you to continue your destructive routine which is proving to be detrimental to your health would be inadvertently allowing harm to befall you. Thus, he decides one conditional must override another. 

Careful to prevent the hinges of your bedroom door from trilling, Alhaitham enters. Analyzing the shape outlined by messy layers of blankets draped over your figure, you must still be in the depths of slumber.

There are about 15 minutes before your first alarm is set to go off, since your commute was a simple walk to your home office, you had the flexibility to sleep through a few grating beeps. 

This habit could use a few improvements. He turns his focus to the thick curtains hiding the room away from the greetings of a morning star.

Sunlight sends a signal to the pituitary gland, calling to suppress melatonin production and increase cortisol production and serotonin.

A natural cue for your body to start, to allow the bright rays to touch your skin would also be good for vitamin production too. 

With a simple tug, the thick drapes were pulled away, granting the rays of the sun to enter and illuminate the still room.

Your body instinctively retreats deeper under the covers, a clear sign that the light is doing its job. He’ll leave the rest up to the alarm impatiently waiting to belt out its chorus of pitches. Just like the shadows slipping away, he exits just as quietly. 

It took only two alarms to get you out of bed and ambling down the hall toward the kitchen. A 60% decrease from when the curtains were shut, however, more trials are needed to conclusively establish a pattern.

His teal gaze follows you as you approach the kitchen. Hands rubbing at your eyes. 

“Why is it so bright?” Your words were groggy. 

“It’s morning,” he answers. 

An unamused glare replaces the fatigue in your expression, Alhaitham deems his response satisfactory. 

After a deep sigh, you shut your eyes again, still trying to adjust to the brightness surrounding you, hands returning to rub at your eyelids.

Excessive rubbing of the eyes isn’t good for them, he notes. However, before he could address it another prompt from you took priority. 

“Did I leave my curtains open last night?” You asked yourself. 

“Coffee?” He interjects. 

Glancing back up at him, you paused for a moment as your groggy mind remembered why you traversed to the kitchen in the first place, diverting your attention away from mysteriously moving drapes. 

“Yes, please make me a cup, Alhaitham.” 

“Understood.”

The android turns toward the marble countertop, preparing the coffee grounds into the machine as you sit at your place at the table.

One day isn’t enough to correct a bad habit, but over time, bit by bit, your schedule will fall into a new rhythm. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The cheerful doorbell ring interrupts Alhaitham amidst reorganizing the books on a shelf. Right on schedule.

From just down the hall he hears the knob of your office door turn as it opens, followed by a few cautious steps as you venture closer to the front door. As you pass the doorway of the library, Alhaitham observes the furrow between your brow on your perplexed face. 

“Is there someone at the door?” You turn to him. 

Another ring followed by a few gentle knocks answers your question for him as your head snaps back into the direction of the noise. Crime in this suburban neighborhood is very low, but he does understand why you’d want to be careful.

Perhaps, he should accompany you to ease your nerves over the sudden ring from the door. 

With an android just behind you, you had finally mustered up the courage to answer the daunting door under his teal supervision. 

“Hello, delivery from Lambad’s Tavern, paid online.” 

“Huh?-” 

“One order of Minty Bean Soup, one order of butter chicken, and one rose custard?” The delivery man interrupts your confusion as he lists off your entrees. 

“Yes…” you reply as you cast a glance back at an idle android. 

The entrees listed were all dishes you asked him to make you for lunch a few hours earlier. Judging by the suspicion upon your furrowed brows, he could tell that you noticed as well. However, with a delivery man holding out the takeout bag on the front steps. It’d be rude to just have him remain there, no? 

“Enjoy your meal!” He announces as he hands over the bag into your arms. 

“Yes, thank you.” You close the door, spinning around almost instantly to confront the android with the bag still in hand. 

“Did you order this?”

“Yes.” 

“Again? I asked you to make food, not order it,” you tsk. 

“I did it to optimize my time.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“All you have to do is heat up the frozen meals.” 

“Then according to protocol, I’d have to stay in the kitchen to watch over the oven and stove, not to mention the dishes I’d have to wash afterward. So ordering takeout would save time as well as not prevent me from my task of organizing-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” You concede with a sigh. 

Taking a few steps past him towards the direction of the kitchen before you pause midstep to turn back to him. 

“Do not use your funds to order weird things off the internet.” You warn before promptly continuing on your way to have your late lunch. 

“Understood.” 

Just as he suspected, there isn’t a problem that can’t be helped with a bit of mora. If Alhaitham were to follow your request as you instructed, he knew that the reheated meal would turn cold as it sits abandoned on the kitchen table.

Even when he informs you of his task’s completion, you’d push back your lunchtime until you needed another dose of caffeine. 

However, a simple ring of a doorbell could do what he can’t. Drawing your attention and body away from the confines of your desk. An efficient reminder to have your meals at a regular time if he says so himself.

Besides, fresh ingredients are better than frozen meals in terms of nutrients. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had long retreated into a navy blanket of the night, allowing the moon to take its place in the sky. Serene beauty watching over the nighttime bustle of Sumeru city slowly peters out, and many return to their homes at the beck and call of slumber. 

Alhaitham settled himself upon his spot on the couch, a lamp just off to the side illuminating the pages of his book softly. The quiet lull of the living room periodically broken by the crisp turn of a page.

The typical rhythm that resonates through the house around this hour. His acute senses pick up a frustrated pair of steps pattering closer. 

Ah, yes a new accompaniment has jumped this evening's tempo. 

“Is the router having issues again?” You groan as your frame appears from around the corner. 

Casting a halfhearted glance off to where said device sat on a side table, his teal eyes return to his book. 

“The light shows that it’s online.” 

“Then why is it taking forever to upload a simple file? It’s been five minutes and it’s not even halfway done.” You took quick strides past his idle frame. 

Crouching down to be at eye level with the device in question. Unplugging the power cord from its back and then sticking it back. Eyes studying the blinking lights as the router reboots and reconnects to the internet.

Pulling out your phone, you sigh as you try to load up a webpage only to be met by a spinning circle of contemplation. 

“Network providers tend to have slowdowns this late at night, some say it's due to bandwidth congestion while others argue that they do it to cut costs,” Alhaitham states, teal eyes honed in onto the text as to avoid your pouting glare. 

“Very helpful, Alhaitham.” Another sigh leaves you as you stand back up. 

He spoke the technical truth, those companies do tend to slow down their networks at night to save on some operational costs.

However, in this case, it was the former that was causing your device’s screens to perpetually stay in loading. Activities such as streaming videos, music, or downloading files take up the most bandwidth.

Alhaitham simply wanted to download some digital copies of recent scientific journals, and maybe a few songs here and there as well. All done simultaneously which led to some congestion.

How unfortunate. 

“This has been happening for the past month now, I should call the network provider, it’s driving me up a wall.” Another groan of frustration. 

His teal eyes follow your figure from behind the tops of his book, watching you rub your temples as if to expel the exasperation from your body with each mumble that leaves your lips. 

“The internet’s so slow I can’t even connect to the Akasha’s databases, that file is still uploading, what should I do in the meantime?”

His hearing was able to pick up each syllable uttered from under your exhausted breath. He shifts his focus momentarily toward the clock just across the room, reading: 10:00 p.m. Since you asked, it’s only right that he responds with his input. 

“It’s an issue beyond your control, the best option to utilize your time at this moment would be to get an adequate amount of rest.” 

This time it was your turn to respond to him with a deadpan stare, clearly unamused by his suggestion. 

“I want to analyze a few more datasets.”

“Missing a few hours of overtime won’t have any determinate effects on your productivity or livelihood.” 

“This is for the sake of your development, Alhaitham.” You sigh as if your statement would mystically change his rationale. 

“The short-term gratification you’ll get from sacrificing your rest for a few revelations isn’t worth the long-term ramifications of your health.” He bluntly discloses. 

Silence fills the room once more, but something odd seems to have mingled with the serenity of the air. This strange inclusion prompts Alhaitham to finally turn away from the pages, connecting his gaze with yours. 

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” He studies your expression, and rather than furrowed brows, he finds a soft roundness to your eyes. 

Him staring at you, you staring at him. A scene that continued for a few beats more before you were the first to break the stalemate. 

“No, not at all… it’s just very reminiscent of something I’ve heard before…” You turn away as his gaze follows. 

A few slow strides take you back to the corner, figure just about to disappear into the shadows engulfing the halls before you abruptly turn around. 

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight.” He mirrors. 

Alhaitham marks today as another successful trail of correcting a bad routine. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Adequate amounts of sunlight, regular meals, and coffee grounds mysteriously find themselves placed on the highest shelf in the cabinets. All the factors were in place to regulate a disastrous sleep schedule. 

Yet when Alhaitham checks your device activity, the data points remain scattered about the twilight hours of the morning. A true paradox.

Amongst the Summer afternoon rays seeping in through the windows, Alhaitham was tasked with tidying up the kitchen. An obscure cabinet in a corner was the last section before he could deem the request complete. 

There wasn’t anything in particular about the cabinet, it’s space housing an assortment of various vitamins. That was until his hand brushed against a plastic container which didn’t conform to the typical shape of vitamin bottles. 

Grasping it within his hand, he pulls the irregular bottle out from the murky depths of a cabinet and out into the sunlight where its identity unravels: a prescription bottle.

Barbiturates sedatives, colloquially referred to as sleeping pills, are used in treatments for insomnia. 

It looks like Alhaitham has stumbled upon the answer to the paradox printed on the faded label of a neglected bottle. 

Frankly, this revelation wasn’t all that surprising. He had long suspected it from the symptoms and behaviors you display daily. But it’s always good to support a hypothesis with evidence. 

Studying the container in his hand further, his gaze narrows as it hones in a corner of the label. In particular, the date printed along it. This bottle expired two years ago. 

It’s recommended that every civilian visits the Bimarstan annually for a checkup, in a nation where healthcare is free and accessible, this typically isn’t an issue.

Once more, you stood alone as a data point outside of the cluster. 

Stepping into the living room, he finds you tinkering with the network router again. A few more steps and then he was by your side. 

“When was your last medical check-up?” Cycling through his memory, Alhaitham failed to recall the last time you had a medical assessment.

Your body halts momentarily, before glancing up at his beryl eyes.

“I’m relatively healthy, there’s no reason for an assessment.” 

“The Department of Health recommends annual checkups at the very least.” 

“I don’t need to go to the Bimarstan,” you declare. 

A weight pulled down at the corners of his lips, creating what is called a frown. An expression he observed many times upon your lips whenever you label him as ‘stubborn’. He might finally grasp why you do such a thing.

Stubbornness isn’t such a good trait when you’re on the other side of it. Fortunately, he anticipated this. 

“In accordance with the law, you do.” The contents of the plastic bottle rattle as he reveals it, drawing your gaze toward it. 

“The regulation behind your prescription requires that all expired medication be brought back to the Bimarstan for proper disposal.” Denunciation behind his glass irises. 

Lips pressing into a thin line, you advert your eyes back to the blinking router in front of you. Each second of silence announces your defeat.

Human actions are limited by a set of laws and they must operate within the bounds, not too different from restrictions imposed on machines.

The consequences looming just a step away discourage most mortals from crossing the threshold. 

“I’ll schedule an appointment for noon next week, making use of your saved paid time off is recommended, does that work?” He prompts. 

“Alright.” 

A weight is alleviated from his lips, triggering the corners to curl upwards. A common response to the accomplishment of a challenge, he understands now why a mortal body does it. 

Perhaps a doctor's visit has been long overdue, foggy recollections of if the curtains were shut the night before and if a bag of coffee was accidentally misplaced. Poor memory is one of the repercussions of sleep deprivation, you’re aware of this fact. 

Healthcare in Sumeru is highly accredited for its accessibility and quality, the Bimarstan being the standard many hospitals around Teyvat strive to be. To have such a thing so accessible to you, it’s baffling to many how you failed to utilize such privilege.

You had your reasons. 

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates. A few vaguely familiar faces from across a lecture hall of some general course.

Faces you’ve passed slumped over textbooks and piles of notes in the late hours of the House of Daena, their dark circles matching yours.

Faces that graduated alongside you as celebratory cheers rang out with caps littering the air.

It’d be strange to meet someone you attended the Akademiya with once again in an examination room. 

After their years of medical school and surviving residency, you’re certain they’re more than qualified at their jobs. However, it doesn’t change the course of averted eyes and superficial pleasantries.

You breathe out a deep sigh as the receptionist calls out for you, informing you that you could head down to a private room. 

Leaving your seat in the waiting room, you do as the receptionist instructs, exiting the lively environment into a placid hallway. The receptionist’s face didn’t evoke any familiarity, nor did the doctor’s name listed on your appointment.

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates, but not all. 

Candidly, there’s only one classmate who you’d avert paths with within this establishment. In a hospital as large as the Bimarstan, the average number of staff ranges from around 5,000.

The odds of encountering a particular face out of a pool of thousands is nonzero. 

A polite knock draws you from your thoughts, your eyes travel toward the door of the private room you entered not too long ago as the handle slowly turns. Thick oak swinging ajar to reveal the figure on the other side. 

“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Rana, I’ll be taking care of you today.” 

You return her greeting with a courteous smile and nod, statistics in your favor, the odds were nonzero but still a minuscule likelihood. 

The checkup was rather uneventful, a few questions were asked as she pulled up your medical records. You pulled out the expired medication for her to examine and deal with.

Vitals checked and documented as the appointment drew to a close, a notepad and pen in her hands as she turned to you. 

“Overall your health seems fine, although…” she trails off.

You could feel the weight of her stare upon the discoloration ever-present under your eyes, no layer of concealer to cover them. You could already guess her next sentence. 

“Would you like a refill of your prescription?”

“No, it’s fine.” It’d just be another bottle to be neglected in the back of a cabinet. 

“I see…” This time her eyes move back and forth between your sitting figure and a clock hanging in its place on a wall. 

“I… have to process some paperwork, could you wait here for a few minutes?” A polite smile graced her lips. 

“Of course.” You mimic her actions. 

A day requested off to account for a drawn-out appointment, to account for a scenario like this his foresight analysis is making great progress.

You should take note of that once you return home, a daily log still needs to be updated to track consistent progress after all. It’s technically your day off, but you’re free to decide what to do with it.

As you pondered a checklist to complete once you got in front of your desk the door creaks open. 

“Oh? That was fast, Dr. Rana-” The sentence dying upon the tip of your tongue as your lips press into a firm line. 

The odds of encountering one familiar face out of a pool of thousands is a small nonzero number, however, if that number was increased to three faces out of those thousands, the chances increase.

How unfortunate, even with such small odds, you managed to come face-to-face with the three people you wanted to avoid the most. 

They file into the room and the last one closes the door behind himself as your eyes scan over them. Starting with the ebony-haired man in the center, Tighnari, a doctor at the Bimarstan. It makes sense for a doctor to be in a hospital on this fine day, but not for a lawyer, or an architect.

Four former classmates gathered in an examination room, how strange. 

Still, you’ve grown enough to adapt to such peculiar situations. Practiced corporate smiles and pleasantries to navigate this stagnant air. 

“Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, it’s a surprise to see you all here. It’s been a while.” 

“A while is a bit of an understatement…” Kaveh is the first of the trio to converse, offering you a small smile. 

You return it with one that didn’t reach your eyes. The rhythmic ticks of a clock fill the silence, shifting eyes anticipating and preparing for the next phase of this impromptu reunion. The doctor finally decides to speak up. 

“You haven’t been sleeping enough, have you.” Tighnari examining your under eyes. 

“I never sleep enough, you know that.” Of course you never slept enough.

How could you sleep when the threat of falling behind the geniuses sitting around a library table was always looming over you? Geniuses who easily grasp the concepts and theories that elude you. How could you lay in bed when you had to catch up to them? 

“So, why this sudden get-together?” Impatience rising inside you with each passing tick of the clock. 

Dropping the formalities and social pleasantries, you watch as another round of shifting eyes passes. You already had an inkling of the answer they’re still hesitating to address. Finally, your former Kshahrewar senior responds for the group. 

“We’re worried about you, you haven’t been in contact for a while now.” Kaveh’s voice was low and mellow, you could tell he took extra effort in marking it such. 

The same low and mellow tone he’d speak to you with as he tried to explain your mistakes on an exam, the tone which accompanied the pity in his gaze toward you as he pointed out each miscalculation on your paper. The tone made you ball your fist up on your lap.

“I’m fine, just busy.” 

“Please don’t start with that again.” The blond sighs, sympathy still ever-present in his eyes. 

“I’m just busy with work, as are all of you, we’re no longer students with minimal responsibilities,” you retort. 

The days when a group of friends could gather around a table for hours on end, half bantering and half studying, basking in the Spring warmth streaming in from the grand windows of the House of Daena have long passed. 

“We all have busy careers, that’s true, but not to the extent of being a detriment to our health.” With a sigh, Tighnari began his health lecture. 

Expounding upon the negative consequences of a poor work-life balance. Shifting your focus instead on tuning out this lecture you didn’t sign up for. 

“You stopped listening… of course,” a deep sigh concludes the doctor’s sermon. 

Ah, you’ve been found out. The polite smile straining itself upon your lips, legs itching to walk out of this restrictive space. 

“Here, it’s a contact of mine, I recommend you give her a call-” 

“It’s fine.” You promptly push away the business card just as Tighnari presents it to you, a thread of patience stretched thinly. 

“She can help you through-” he continues. 

“It’s fine, my research is just busy-”

“This isn’t healthy.” 

“It’s my research.” A sharp undertone leaks through your professional demeanor. 

“And this is why we’re worried about you!” Kaveh’s patience was the first snap. 

Then again, your senior might have been the light of Kshahrewar and a praised genius, but he was never the best at handling his emotional regulation. 

“Look around, don’t you see how concerned we are about you? No returned texts or calls and no answers at a doorbell for years, only ever talking about this research. It’s as if you-” he stops himself, rudy eyes meeting with your cold stare. 

He knew better than to finish that sentence, you knew that he knew he shouldn’t. 

“We’re worried about you, this research… it’s not good for you.” Tighnari interjects, attempting to shift the course of this intervention. 

Of course, when the development of an android was announced, there wasn’t just discourse amongst the general public, but debates raged throughout academia as well. How unfortunate it is that friends now stand at polar ends. 

“It’s my research,” you reaffirm. 

This research was why you got your doctorate, it’s why you have a job, it’s why you have a house. This research has entangled itself into the very fibers of your life. It was where a predetermined path had led you. 

The room fills once more with a lull, nothing but deep sighs and ever-shifting eyes. Neither side is able to get through to the other. Typical of most academic debates. Still, it seems they weren’t ready to end the intervention so soon. 

“Listen… we’re worried for you, I… I know it’s been very difficult these past years.” Your senior takes a step closer. 

That same sympathetic timbre brings a vile taste to your tongue. You stay silent in favor of pushing the bitterness down as it tries to claw its way through your polite façade.

“I… know what it must have been like for you, It’s been hard on all of us. I’ve experienced something similar, so I can tell you-”

“I’m sorry, Kaveh. But tragedies shouldn’t be compared, because they’ll never have a fair comparison.” You end the conversation. 

Just like how it isn’t fair to compare stars who were their own centers of gravity with a mere rock at the mercy of an orbital pull to give it direction. 

Even when you sat at the same table as them, you were never at the same level as them. Families with academic prestige, minds blessed with wisdom, and the freedom to pursue a self-chosen path. You could only ever look up at what you lacked.

“Your worlds kept on spinning, your lives move on with the change of the season. But not mine, mine stopped long ago.” It’s not fair to compare a rock to a star, from their silence, you assume they knew that too. 

“I’m now taking the initiative to make it start again, don’t interfere.” Your valediction to the geniuses whom you couldn’t live up to. 

It’s just the nature of this world, geniuses walked their own paths while others took another. Geniuses can’t understand those others, just as others can’t understand geniuses.

This doctor’s appointment has gone on for long enough. Gathering your belongings, you stride past them, eyes refusing to meet.

Your hand pried open the door, pausing just at the threshold as Cyno finally breaks his silence. 

“Is this truly what you want? To defy the edicts of finality with research?”

Ah, what an inquiry. Perhaps it’s just like a lawyer to ask such a thing. 

“Is my research in violation of any laws in Sumeru?” You refuse to meet his scarlet condemnation. 

“As of now, no.”

“Then I don’t see how this involves you, there’s no place for personal biases and mortals in the judicial system.” Crossing the threshold, the door creaks close behind you as hurried steps echo through the sterile hall. 

This was a mistake, you should’ve never come here. Your body was fine, your vitals are fine, you’re fine. There wasn’t a point in wasting time here, you needed to leave this place filled with faces offering you condolences. Exiting the narrow hall back into the dim murmurs that fill the waiting room, the last thread of patience starts to splinter. 

From the muddled chatter, a bright shrill rang above them all. Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source. Even in a sea of passing faces and colors, it didn’t take you long to find it. 

A young girl grins a smile with a few gaps as she stretches her arms out to her sides, mimicking an airplane. A young father helpless to his daughter’s giggles, hands secured around her legs as he lets her soar on his shoulders. Next to his side was a giggling mother, watching with amusement and endearment. 

A private moment hidden amongst the waiting room, you look away. You should return to the private walls of your house before that thread inevitably breaks. Sliding glass doors part to grant you exit from this suffocating cage.

Like a speck of dust drifting in the breeze, you disappear into the bustling crowd of Sumeru City. The push and pull of strangers further you along your route, even as your mind drifts off. 

With modern advancements in aerospace engineering, the chances of a plane crashing have decreased significantly, with recent statistics citing only 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

How long ago since the last time you’ve been inside an airport? What were your last memories of an airport? Do you remember?

–----

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” Your mother’s thumb traced over your hand. 

“It’s a bit too late for me to pack, we’re already at the airport, Mom.” 

“Don’t you want to visit Fontaine? Didn’t you say they had really advanced things there?” She didn’t let go of your hand. 

“I’m busy with my thesis.” You were still in the midst of getting a Ph.D., the very thing they demanded of you. 

“But I planned this trip so we could spend time together.” Your mother tried to get you to meet her gaze.

You adverted your eyes. So this is how they spent their recent financial flexibility. With a scholarship and research-assistant salary, you had enough to cover the tuition by yourself, relieving your parents of that burden. But to get that scholarship and salary, you had to pay with your time. 

“I’m busy, mom.” You freed your hand from her grasp. 

“But-”

“Stop it dear, she’s not going to change her mind.” Your father’s gruff voice stopped your mother. 

“There’s no point in trying to change the mind of an ungrateful child.” 

You felt the weight of his disappointed stare upon you, a frown formed on your lips as they pressed together. This was a sudden trip announced to you just a few days prior, you didn’t have time to accompany them. But they didn’t seem to care.

Of course they didn’t. Your parents only ever saw the grades, the diplomas, the results. But they never bothered to see the anguish you endured to give it to them. 

“Enjoy your trip.” Words barely passed your clenched teeth as you turned around and walked away. 

An ungrateful planet ignored the calls from their mother in their first successful act of defiance. Trying to break away from their gravitational pull. 

–----

That was your last memory of the airport.

Those were the last memories two parents had of their child.

The child they sacrificed their time, labor, and freedom to build a better life for. Your parent’s last memories were that of an ungrateful child, maybe it was the last scene they thought of as a plane was swallowed by the salty depths. 

Humans, defined by their curiosity, will always yearn to reach as high as they can. Tales warning those to never fly too close to the ever-bright star ignored in the pursuit of radiant curiosity. Your parents were no different. 

They ever had the chance to travel, too busy trying to provide food in front of you. So when the burdening weight was lifted, naturally they wanted to stretch their wings to see the views they never got to in their youth. They always wanted to touch the sky, to reach for the moon.

There’s a proverb often told to young minds: ‘Shoot for the moon, even if you fall, you can still land on a star’. 

This saying is riddled with inaccuracies. The stars are much further away than the serene moon. Beckoning the curious eyes to look at them, for curious hands to yearn for them. 

But once the glue on those wings are melted away by selfish rays, what is there to catch them besides the cold unfeeling ocean? Did they sink from the memories of an ungrateful child weighing on them? 

You should’ve been on that plane. 

The familiar features of your neighborhood come into view, the doors of your house are just ahead. Just hold on, don’t let that thread snap just yet, just a few more steps. 

Tighnari had his father and mother working right alongside him at the Bimarstan.

Cyno had regular visits to his adoptive father, and sometimes his adoptive sister Lisa visits too.

Kaveh had reconnected with his mother overseas, now having a few younger half-siblings who jump to greet him every time he visits.

Lives still spinning and warm in the light of their brilliance. What do you have? 

A job in a career picked out for you. Paychecks rotting in a bank account with no one to pay back. A spacious and hallow house with no one to reside in its empty walls, only displaying a doctorate you loathed.

A stray rock who lost her stars. Wandering without their gravitational pull in the vacuum of a lonely darkness. Just what do you have?

“Alhaitham,” you call out just as the front door slams behind you. 

You could hear his steady steps approaching along the wooden floor, but it’s too slow so your frenzied steps close in the distance between your two forms. The thread gives in and snapping as the recoil proliferates through your body. 

Without a greeting, no prompt, or prior warning your grasp wrinkles his once pristine button-down.

The bitter tears you held back now soak into the fabric as even viler cries choke your voice. The shame of displaying such a sight in front of a being whose eyes don’t produce moisture is long abandoned. In the walls of this hallow house, your broken sobs echo off. 

He stands still in the middle of the hall, the low hum of his motor resonating in your ears as you hide your face deeper into the synthetic skin of his chest. But that’s fine, the whir of motor is enough of a substitute for a heartbeat. 

Alhaitham stands in front of the reflection staring back at him, he had undocked himself from the charging port not too long ago. Tracing over the synthetic material stretched over his imitation of a collarbone as his mind wanders.

There aren’t enough chemicals in tears to make them corrosive, nor were they at the temperature to boil.

So why does it burn?

Trailing his fingertips where your tears soaked onto his skin, recollections of the searing sensation that afflicted the area with each sorrowful drop. Choking sobs which he caused. 

He failed to consider all causal factors to assess the situation fully and failed to appraise all possible alternatives. He failed to make the right decision, and he let harm befall you because of it. It’s strange, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes, yet he finds it hard to look in the mirror. 

Teal gaze scrutinizes the arms, legs, and body in the reflection. The reflection in front of him had all the identifiable components of a man, but they’re all synthetic.

From the tips of his sliver hair to the vast expanse of his skin, they’re all made from high-quality silicon parts supported by a metal frame. An engineered body with a motor in place of a heart. 

Maybe that’s why he failed to make the right decision, he had no heart to weigh in on the ruling. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The android is faced with a new dilemma. 

 From the entrance of the kitchen, Alhaitham watches you. A spoon absentmindedly swirling in the cup of coffee on the counter in front of you. Your thoughts wander elsewhere, the rays of a setting sun unable to light up dull spaced-out eyes.

He’s observed your condition for the past week, no hint of improvement. 

A new dilemma he must decipher, the urgency rising with each passing second as the spoon continues. 

The lull of the evening air was shattered by the sound of a porcelain cup meeting the tiled floor. Jagged pieces and coffee spilled all along the cold surface. Listlessly your eyes move to access the mess on the floor, spoon still grasped in your hand. 

“Ah.” That was all your lips could say. 

Limbs slowed with lethargy, you crouch down closer to the broken pieces scattered about. Bare hand reaching out to grab the sharp edges unthinkingly. A firm grasp prevents your touch from the ragged porcelain. 

“It’s dangerous, I’ll handle it.” Alhaitham brings your hand further away from the hazard. 

Your aloof eyes trail past him toward a wall where he could hear a clock tick before they returned to his resolute stare. 

“It’s past 5 p.m.” 

“A hazard has appeared in the environment, it’s protocol that I clear it.” His rehearsed response. 

“Oh… alright.” Limplessness returning to your wrist within his hold, body too lethargic to object. 

With you seated at the kitchen table away from the jagged edges that could potentially pierce your skin, Alhaitham begins gathering the pieces. As your aloof eyes wander about the monitor of your laptop, his mind ponders a dilemma. 

It’s often said that guilt is held in the heart. In novels and human anecdotes, it's been described to him as a burdensome heaviness that sinks the heart.

A sensation reminiscent of drowning in icy water. A sensation only perceivable through a beating mortal heart. 

Alhaitham is an android, he’s aware of this. A being with silicon skin encasing a metal frame. A motor in place of where a mortal heart would be.

So what is this weight burdening his chest? 

An internal diagnostic returned no errors and no reports of any damage or unusual occurrence within his systems. Yet, a heaviness brewed deep inside his chest, its mass increasing each sunrise and fall, with every passing moment the riddle was left unanswered. 

How could a motor hold guilt? How could the weight of judgment manifest itself in the absence of an organic heart that beats instead of whirs? How could an inorganic object possibly suffer guilt?

All the mora poured into his creation, all the hours of research contributed to his algorithms, and all the texts he’s scanned through were all for naught. The pinnacle of scientific and mechanical development couldn’t solve a simple conundrum.

The floorboard creaks under the weight of his steady strides as he moves about the corridor, the soft swishes of a broom coinciding with each step.

Dust had begun to settle in the crevices of the home, it’s about time that he took up the mantle that was supposed to be his. 

Could an explanation of this weight be the backlog of tasks and responsibilities he had pushed off? Chores he ignored in favor of browsing the contents of a library? A burden he selfishly passed onto your shoulders.

Maybe after he completes the tasks that were supposed to be assigned to him he could clear the cache, then this weight in his chest would subside. 

The bristles of the broom scratch against a door, the light force setting the frame ajar further. Revealing the dust-coated scene in front of him. A boundary he was restricted from.

Alhaitham concluded that this small corner of the house must hold some sentimental value to you, thus it’s best for him to not disturb it. 

Just as he goes to close the door, Alhaitham scans around the environment identifying the shape of a journal tucked away under an old table.

He’s not permitted to enter, but all books belong in the library. Spines sorted along wooden selves, not on a dusty floor.

An exception shall be granted, setting aside the broom, he steps in to collect the neglected book. 

While crouching down and gathering the covers into his hold, a different gleam catches his eye. The light reflects off its glass surface and highlights the dust particles dancing in the still air.

With his free hand, he picks it up, teal eyes running along the glass orb. After a moment of processing the object, he successfully identifies it as a toy.

A popular model to display an artificial starry night among blank walls. Alhaitham turns to follow a trail of cut-out stars pasted all along the walls. The soft glow of their plastic shapes subdued by the brilliance of the afternoon sun streaming in. 

Were you interested in stars? Glancing out the window, he discerns the murky shapes of buildings in Sumeru City off in the distance. 

This house is located in the suburbs away from the noisy clammer of the city streets and traffic. However, where the sound waves couldn’t travel didn’t mean the sky around this quiet neighborhood was uncontaminated by activities in the city.

When the sun retreats away for rest, the city doesn’t follow suit.

Through the power of fluorescent lights in street lamps and office buildings, humans created their own artificial daylight to continue the bustle of their lives. Light which polluted the night sky and stole the radiance away from her stars. 

Unable to enjoy the natural tapestry of the night, did you substitute the company of stars with toy imitations?

Turning the orb in his hand, his eyes notice the signs of damage along the projector. Perhaps that’s why it sat abandoned in this room.

He’s stayed in this restricted space long enough. Carefully closing the door behind him, hands still full. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve uncovered a strange object, my software isn’t able to identify it.” Alhaitham stands just outside the open office door. 

Sparing him a glance away from your monitor, your brows pinched together in confusion at his sudden report during the late hours of the night. 

“A strange object?” You inquire again. 

“Yes, I’ve scanned over it a few times but no results are returning.” 

“Huh…” 

Teals watching you press a finger against your pursed lips in concentration. A habit of yours often displayed when amid contemplation. After a few breaths, your eyes meet his as you give your reply. 

“Well, where is this object?” 

“Come with me.” 

Along the wooden floor, two pairs of steps tap rhythmically in time with one another as they traverse the hallway stopping at the living room where the mysterious object resides.

Approaching the coffee table in the center, Alhaitham steps to the side to present it as it sits upon the polished surface. 

“This… is what’s been giving your software issues?” The quirk returned to your brow as you cast him a glance. 

Alhaitham simply nobs as you approach the object closer. Kneeling beside it, your eyes examine the familiar device. 

“It’s a planetarium projector, it projects the scene of a night sky, in other words: just a toy.” 

He hums in acknowledgment, carefully treading toward the light switch in the corner as the toy holds the gaze of your eyes. 

“It should be thrown away… It’s broken after all.” Your tone dismissive, yet your hand caresses the broken toy with tenderness. 

“It’s not,” he replies. 

Perking your head up, you turn to face him with that same furrow between your brows. 

“What do you mean, Alhaitham-”

He flicks the switch, plunging the room in a blanket of darkness earning a squeak of surprise from you. The device whirs as it awakens, painting the blank tapestry with a scene of the night sky with its shimmering lights.

The vibrant shapes of stars and planets take their place along the living room wall, creating a private galaxy that surrounds you. 

Your sentence remains unfinished upon your tongue as your eyes take in the display encompassing you. The nostalgic glimmer of the night and her stars twinkle in the reflection of your irises as he settles down beside you. 

“Did… did you fix it?”

He hums in response. 

It only took a bit of study and careful tinkering to restore the worn pieces and gears. A simple effort was all it took to allow the projector to shine its recreation of the stars. Returning a light that he hasn’t seen in a while. 

“Thank you, Alhaitham,” you breathe out, lips curling up softly and eyes still enraptured by the stars. 

He doesn’t respond this time as his teal gaze focuses on your expression, on the smile that’s been missing for some time. It’s strange, this sensation manifesting in his chest. He thought if he was able to restore the light to your eyes, then that heaviness brewed deep inside his chest would clear. But it remained. 

His system unable to express nor suppress the heaviness which bubbled up like seafoam rising to the surface.

The sensation was different than it was before. Instead of a mass that weighed him down to the bottom of a cold depth, it was more reminiscent of a warm ebb. Washing over every limb of his as he studied the curvature of your lips and the glimmer of your eyes. 

Another internal diagnostic wasn’t necessary, for Alhaitham had reached his epiphany to a conundrum. An engineered body may lack a heart, but not a conscious.

A consciousness that acts like a vessel collecting the accumulation of that heaviness. A heaviness that couldn’t be called ‘guilt’. 

No, perhaps it has always been something other than ‘guilt’.

It only took until the vessel overflowed for an engineered body to recognize it for what it truly was.

There’s something strange happening to your Android. Reviewing the diagnostic reports of his systems returned nothing out of the ordinary. So why did you suspect something to be wrong? Perhaps you could call it intuition. 

Or perhaps it’s the lack of books strewn about the house. Or the initiation of tasks without a prompt. Or that night a living room was filled with the radiance of tiny dots along empty walls. Something strange is happening. 

“Alhaitham, what’s taking you so long in the kitchen?” You poke your head out from the kitchen doorway, sights honing in on your android currently scrutinizing the recipe book in his hands. 

Perhaps there’s a defect in the print, if the black ink isn’t contrasting enough with the beige paper, which time has faded, it does cause issues with optical character recognition. Maybe the past splatters of sauces and oils upon the aged book were too much of a hurdle.

“Chef Mao is a renowned cook, but his recipes are vague. He suggests a pinch of salt to enhance the flavor of this dish. I’ve calculated that Chef Mao has a 19.3 cm hand length which entails that his ‘pinches’ measure around 0.356 grams. However, he said to add Jueyun Chili oil until fragrant, I’m still processing the data I’ve collected on his olfactory system, the calculations will take around five minutes.” He turns back to the stove.

“Alhaitham.”

“Yes?”

“Please put down the book and get out of the kitchen.” A bold choice of words from you.

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” His teal eyes land on you. 

“It’s just that I’m hungry.” 

“This dish should be complete in around 90 minutes accounting for the other-”

“No,” you interrupt. 

He studies you for a while, accessing the situation and the unfinished dish still simmering on the stove. After a few breaths, he returns a response. 

“Shall I order delivery from Lambad’s Tavern?” His hand switches off the fire.

He conceded. The notoriously stubborn and fickle android conceded to your whims. There was definitely something wrong. You pace into the kitchen, getting close to observe his teal irises for any sign of possible flaws. 

“Alhaitham, you’ve been behaving strangely as of late, did you encounter something?” 

He returns your gaze, teal reflecting off your irises as you continue to study him, and him you. His silence only amounts to the deepening furrow between your brows as your assessment of his frame fails to identify any impairments. 

“Why have you been behaving like this?” You prompt again. 

“Have I neglected my responsibilities for so long that fulfilling them has become a cause for concern?” He finally responds. 

“Now’s not the time for jests,” you huff. 

“From what I’ve reviewed on human behavior, it’s not strange to want to care for the person I love.” A blunt statement. 

From the window, the moonlight peeks upon the strange phenomenon occurring. Two bodies remain motionless in a silent lull.

One pair of placate teal eyes and one pair of bewildered eyes too lost in each other to mind the witness intruding on this private moment. Words finally conquer in your brain, ending the quietude.

“Refrain from saying nonsensical words.” Your lips press together into a thin line. 

“Do you believe such a thing is beyond my capabilities?” 

You couldn’t respond, or more accurately, you simply didn’t know how to. A being without a heart, a being who lacked the necessary chemicals to create the cocktail known as emotions. How is it possible? 

“I have no heart, I’m aware. But I have a conscience.” He must’ve deduced the exact thoughts racing through your head. 

Your brows only furrow further as you wait for him to continue his explanation.

“Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.” Taking note of the glistening shine beginning to pool in your wide eyes. 

“And I believe that I love you.” His sincere gaze never leaves your form. 

Not a single sentence is able to form upon your tongue. An expression he couldn’t decipher upon your features. Perhaps his statement was too long-winded, an overly complicated explanation. Maybe a simpler one could convey his message better. 

You’re the first to break eye contact, choosing to watch the tiles on the floor over him. He remains firm in his stance, not faltering once as the seconds turn into minutes. Your shoulders rise as your lungs take a deep breath. 

“… say that again… please.” Words just barely above a whisper.

He could only bend to your whims. 

“I love you.”

Your head lifts up to face him, your hands hesitating momentarily as they cup his cool cheeks, fingers trembling. Something glimmering in your eyes as droplets escape your lashes.

This time, Alhaitham wipes them away before they could trail down your cheeks. 

You did it. All those long hours, all those reports and trials, all of these years sacrificed to research. You’ve created a complete human consciousness with your bare hands. One that understands sorrow, joy, and love.

You succeeded. 

However, in this moment as you peer into the teal eyes of your Magnum opus, as he reflects the endearment in your own. The notion of reporting this revolutionary milestone in the development of artificial intelligence never crossed your mind once. 

Instead, all you did in this moment was pull his face down closer. Closing the distance between the two of you as your lips felt his for the first time. Warm skin against a soft imitation, merging until a lukewarm temperature formed between their touch.

A gentle, yet longing connection of two lips. 

Only when your lungs protest for air did you pull away, hands still encompassing his face as he reveals his teal eyes back from behind closed lids. Eyes reflecting one another as a tender lull settles between you. This time, his whisper mingles with the soft intermission. 

“Was that a kiss?” 

Such an innocent question, one you couldn’t help but giggle at as you nod your head.

“Could you show me again?” His hands found purchase on your hips, beckoning you closer to his frame. 

You surrender to the call, pressing against him as your lips reconnect. A rhythm soon settled in place as they pressed into each other deeper. One that was interrupted once more by your lung's protest for oxygen. At a mere kiss, your mind ceased to remember how to breathe. 

“Again.” A baritone voice just above the hush of your pants.

And so your lips meet thrice, this time in an all-consuming embrace. A hesitant brush of a tongue against your lips, requesting access. Your hands move up to caress his soft locks as you grant it. Latching onto each other as the shroud consumed you both wholly.

A beautifully feverish delirium. The line in the sand that separated a person from a thing jumbled until the outline disappeared. A singularity, an amorous occurrence. 

He releases your lips, the lust in your eyes reflected in his own. Giving a moment for your mind to return to attention as his lips brush away the fading traces of wetness down your cheeks. 

“A kitchen isn’t a suitable setting for such an activity,” he whispers next to your ear. 

Baritone trailing a line of goosebumps up your neck and you nod in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck which fit you perfectly.

Slowly his hands travel down your hips, awaiting your confirmation for the next step just as you permitted it. In one fluid transition, his arm wraps around the back of your legs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground as your arms envelop his neck. 

Steady steps pad along a wooden hallway, the hinges of your bedroom singing their welcome as the two of you advance to a more suitable setting. Depositing you upon cool sheets, fabric wrinkling as your body settles in. The arms still wrapped around his neck pull him closer as this time your legs join in luring him closer to your warmth. 

It’s strange, is it possible for his lips to crave yours? The light of the moon reflected off the glossiness coating them. He delves back in as his body hovers over yours, unwilling to be apart from the softness it yearned for.

The soft flesh of your writhing body against his firm hands, feeling up your heated skin he slips under your shirt. Bunching up the fabric as he explores more of the new expanse of skin. A lovely whimper vibrates against his lips at his actions, spurring him to continue. 

Tracing over the outline of your bra, his fingers creep under. Kneading the plushness of your breast, feeling your nipple beginning to perk up against his ministration. An itch stretching from the pits of his desire, a curious craving to witness the sight concealed away.

Disjoining your lips as a string of saliva connects them, he pushes your shirt further up. All the while your hands grasp onto the edges of the fabric and push them back down. Bemusing his beryl eyes as they catch how the tips of your ears were aflame, a peculiar display of bashfulness. 

Well, a sight he’s witnessed on a few occasions. Such as when you’d leave the shower wrapped in a towel just to cross paths with him. A timidity that gradually faded away as you grew more confident in the privacy restrictions in place, ensuring that the secrets of this home remained in the confines of its walls.

So why is this shyness making its reappearance now?

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” His words ghost over the shell of your vulnerable ear. 

Causing you to jolt and pull down the edges of your shirt to cover the bottom of your loungewear shorts. 

“No, it’s just been a while…” Your sentence trails off, eyes still focusing everywhere but him. 

Ah, a mere string of words, yet they tempted something from the depths. An oppressive sentiment, one that made the grip upon your soft flesh grow firmer. He’s yet to have accessed the entirety of your figure, a view still denied to him by your taut shirt, but another entity had. 

There was a myriad of questions he could use to interrogate. However, as his teal gaze observe how your teeth lightly tug at the bottom of your plush lips in fidgety. Alhaitham devises a much kinder scheme. 

It’s fine, he can overwrite them with his touches. 

“What can I do to gain permission?” A question asked as a line of kisses press their way into your fervent skin, goosebumps following each one. 

Biting down to muffle the bashful moans into whimpers you burrow your face into the plushness of the pillow. Alhaitham continues to soothe kisses over the fabric of your shirt until they finally reach your quivering hands still stretching the hem.

His hand encloses one of yours, bringing it away from the fabric refuge to press his lips against your knuckle. An action that made you peak back at him, meeting a patient gaze awaiting you. 

Another soft press of his lips against your knuckle in silent request, at last, got you to release the hem, allowing him to push the fabric up to expose what was hidden from him. Permitting him to explore the sultry expanses with a wake of kisses, your hand finding reprieve entangling themselves with his. 

His free hand slipping behind your back, he unfastens the clasp of your bra with a slight tug, a relatively simple task when you learn how such a contraption works.

His grasp untangles from yours as he pushes the useless articles of clothing off your body, you raise your arms over your head to aid in the process.

He rewards you with another flurry of kisses in the valley of your breast as his large hands encase the softness of your breast. A motion that made your legs pull him closer. 

Your touches dance along his frame as well, unable to differentiate the difference between skin and a recreation. More whimpers leave your lips at his actions, prodding something in him to do more. To steal more of those sinful breaths from you, something in his coding thirsting for more.

Sliding his hands back down the curves of your body, he hooks his fingers over the rim of your shorts and panties pulling them down. Glass eyes zeroing in on the glistening thread that linked your panties and slit. Proof of arousal, your body awakening its cardinal impulses.

Could the signals transmitted through his system be classified in the same way?

He wants to investigate further. Moving his face lower to inspect the saturated folds that beckoned him. 

Only to be denied by the gates of your knees pressing together, as your body curls up in fortification. Denying him the privilege of satiating his curiosity is like denying a man water in an ocean of sand. Evaluating how your eyes were squeezed together in shame, he had foresaw this.

“Mmm, there seems to be an incongruity, do you want me to stop?” Large hands grasping at your plush thighs, but making no move to part them. 

Your head responds with a shake, but your knees still locked together. Your attention centering on him bashfully. 

“Then guide me, tell me how to please you,” he proposes hands soothing your tense legs.

Utilizing the skill he had accessed a few moments ago once more, gracing your skin with his lips awaiting your response. The tension in your legs loosens with each kiss, and gradually a fissure forms in the barrier of your defense, knees parting.

However, he doesn’t cross the threshold, no, he restrained himself from indulging too soon. Half-ladden eyes peering up to connect with yours. 

“Well, tell me. What do you want me to do?” 

A pout makes its appearance on your face, but what could you do? It is your responsibility to shepherd him since the beginning, to have him step over the line dividing an android and man. Best to take on your duty, no?

Parting your legs further, cheeks ablaze and eyes adverted as you allow his teal gaze to absorb the uninterrupted view of your dripping arousal. Your hands aiding as they thwart the urge of your bashful legs’s urge to preserve your dignity. 

“Please use your mouth and hands,” you prompt, face pressing deeper into one side of a pillow under his stare.

Alhaitham encroaches closer to your glistening folds, his large hands supporting each one of your thighs. Approaching the details of your honeypot in front of him, concentrating on the little nub which lures him closer. He presses a light peck against the nub as your body flinches. 

“Like this?” 

Plush lips pressed tightly, you respond with timid shakes. 

Returning back, his lips delving deeper this time, an audible pop when he pulls away from your taunted clit. Feeling the muscles tighten in your legs. 

“Like that?” Mirth leaked through his baritone words. 

Your head shakes with more vigor. 

“Then how about this?” This time his tongue takes action, dipping into the center of your honeypot before flicking up at your nub. 

You return a restrained moan, teal eyes picking up on the twitch of your folds. It seems that he’s uncovered the proper procedures. Peering up from between your legs at the harsh rises of your chest by rush breaths as your eyes remained sealed behind lashes, he decided to impart some mercy. Taking the initiative to shoulder a bit of your duty. 

Retracing his steps, his tongue repeating its previous motions of lapping up the nectar that slipped out from your folds. Always ending each strip up your slit with a flick to your sensitive nub.

Your hands abandon their post in favor of snaring themselves in his ashen trestles as your back begins to arch off the sheets. Thighs beginning to enclose around his head, yet it didn’t deter the vigor in his motions one bit. 

If anything, it spurred them on. The added pressure of your legs pulling him against your weeping folds assisted him in his quest. Testing which pattern made your body quiver, calculating the pace of his tongue's flicks made your hips buck up.

Alhaitham takes notice of how your greedy hole seems to be clenching down every time a tongue dipped in, you did request for his mouth and fingers after all. 

A finger begins to prod at your entrance, coating itself in the overflowing slick as it traces the puckering entry. Your whines increase in volume as your greed escalates, legs locking around him. Thus, he yields to your neediness, filling your lonely walls with the company of his finger.

Thrusting it in time with his licks as he rubs against the slick muscles. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers grounding themselves in the tangles of his hair as if trying to hold on to a shred of reason. 

His interest has been greatly piqued, he wanted to see what it would look like. He wants to see what your expression looks like when you fall into the depths of debauchery. You’d permit him such privileges right? After all, curiosity is what defines the human spirit. 

A second finger soon joins in, its thickness stretching and prepping your walls, cultivating your arousal into a rapacious hunger.

Articulate tongue now focused on abusing your clit in the swipes of sweet torture, lips encasing around it to provide some suction. Fingers honing in on relocating the weakness deep within you which made your voice peak and tremble.  

He could hear the harshness of your panting breath between each escalating moan, how your walls squeezed and sucked his fingers deeper. Teal gaze never once ceased their evaluation of your face. Making sure to appraise each lewd detail of your impending ecstasy. 

It’s impossible to stand at the apex of euphoria forever, no, for gravity will always pull you back down. A pivotal moment in time as the forces tugged down at you as you fell, losing your shame and sanity along the way.

A fall from grace which etches itself in the roll of your eye and vulgar expression, caused by the tempest of pleasure seeps into every fiber of your being as you plummeted down into the ocean of rapture. 

The fingers intertwined in his hair pulling his face flushed against your pulsing cunt. Even with your mind fractured by orgasmic bliss your body still reacts to each lap of his tongue as he manages the slick aftermath. Fingers stroking your sweet spot through each contraction of your walls. 

“Nng!” A feeble push against his ashen locks, your abused clit crying for a moment of reprieve. 

Oh? It seems your consciousness returned faster than he expected. With a resounding pop, he grants your overstimulated nerves a moment to recover. Allowing the traces of your nectar to dribble down his chin. Taking this moment to verify the effectiveness of his scheme.

The air dense with the fragrance of lust, lips red from the abuse of your teeth, mouth agape as your lungs gasp tongue almost lulling out. 

An absolutely debauched face, a sight which brought the corners of his lips to curl. 

Counting the beads of sweat that lingered on your skin, his rationale urged him to swipe them off to prevent a chill from plaguing you. Withdrawing away from your form he plans his destination to the bath to retrieve a towel, only for a smaller hand to snag him in its hold. 

Alhaitham turns back to face you, awaiting your next prompt. However, your bitten lips couldn’t muster up the courage to utter the plea it so desperately wanted. Thus, your eyes connect with his, praying that a slow blink could convey the invocation your voice couldn’t. 

Standing there as a few breaths pass, the teal glow of his irises indicates his deduction of what your eyes conveyed. Ah yes, the passionate entanglement experience just a moment before could be classified as ‘foreplay’. The appetizer to the main event.

So your appetite has yet to be satiated, evident from how your thighs pressed against each other in an attempt to quell the ache. How could he leave a task undone? 

“Show me what you desire,” he instructs. 

Hesitantly, your hands encroach closer to the rim of his slacks. Your every action observed by him. Resting your palms against the outline of a zipper, you glance up to seek confirmation, he grants it.

You undo the button at the top before pulling the zipper down. Allowing for you to shimmy his briefs and slacks down to the floor. Revealing to the world, with the moon as your witness, every intricate detail placed into his engineered body. 

It felt so foreign in your hands. Encircling your fingers around his girth, tracing over the bumps of each vein. Amid your admiration, his body overtook yours. Pinning you back against the damp sheets. It seems you were very interested in this feature of his, perhaps it was the cure for the yearning between your writhing legs. 

Your legs splayed to either side of his hips, a clear path to your greed. His hand spreads your collected slick along his length. Its bulbous tip presses against your quivering entrance. Meeting your half-lidden eyes, he awaits your permission. Thus, you captured his lips into another kiss, just as the tip breaches the threshold of your entrance.

Finally giving your aching walls the delicious stretch it craved. A moan resonates between connected lips, your eyes beginning to roll back as he sinks deeper and deeper, obscene squelches following each inch. 

Thick tip pressed up against the deepest parts of you as he bottoms out, your hands finding refuge along his back. Breaking the lock of your lips, Alhaitham lifts cants his head up to take in the scene under him.

Hovering over your panting form, his body caging you against the wrinkled fabric, feeling your unseemly breaths against his skin. A teal glow reflected in the lust-hazed pools of your eyes.

He understands now, why so many poets lost their minds, trying their whole lives to find the words to chronicle the sight laid out before him along messy sheets. 

Under his tense study, your fingers lightly claw at the smooth expanse of his back. A soundless prayer to quell the famine, your gummy walls coaxing around his cock with its embrace. 

“Haitham,” you mewl. 

Not even the greatest saint could deny your request, he wagers they’d gladly walk through the gates of damnation just for a morsel of you. 

Rolling his hips back, he drags his girth along the walls of your greed ensuring that they feel the outline of every vein. Feeling the cool air brush against the slick dripping off his length, only the bulbous tip remained in the clutches of your cunt.

A muffled whine of protest from you interrupted as he sunk back in, accompanied by a filthy squelch. 

Robust hands encompass the edges of your waist, he repeats the roll of his hips. Feeling the tightening clutches of your core, croons falling off your tongue with each toing and froing.

What symphonies could he draw from those agape lips of yours?

He wants to witness the sinful hymns of your voice as you are overtaken by the throes of pleasure. Perhaps he should conduct an experiment of his own. Through the raunchy air, a clap pierces the leaden veil, your plush hips pressed flush against his anchored ones, a thrust that seared your nerves and curled your toes. 

“Ah!” Moan ripped from your throat. 

Yes, that’s the amplitude he wants to discern with his ears.

Continue to sing in that octave. It’s as if pulled by the reins of sin, he finds himself experiencing hunger for the first time, fixating on tearing more of those chants from you. He drew back his hips then forced them back in deeper. A wail followed each rake of his cock, walls accenting each thrust with fluttering clenches. Mewls and whines resonated through the room as his firm grip didn’t slacken with each rock of the bed. 

Pace escalating and remorseless, skin clashing against skin, the heat of your writhing body scorching him. But he won’t relent, not until he’s taken what he wanted. Driving you deeper into the creaking mattress, thrusting and filling each crevice of your core. Your soft breast pinned against his solid frame. 

Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, legs imprisoned within the confines of his bruising grasp, toes painfully arched in an attempt to distribute the burn of the maddening euphoria firing through each nerve. The moans of his name like a prayer of salvation, a chant for every punishing strike against your deepest weakness. Your fingers now clawing against his durable back for a foothold for your fleeing sanity. You feared that this time, it might not return to you. 

Oddly, a voice from the rearmost corner of your mind whispered for you to relinquish it. Trade in rationale, sensibility, and morals for absolute ecstasy. Your teeth had already sunk into the apple, its juices dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Why not swallow it down? Get drunk off the wet claps of skin, the grind of his muscular torso against your stimulated clit, the slams of his girthy cock and thick tip. Why deny yourself from the euphoria robbed from you for so long?

So you concede to its beckoning, swallowing down the last wisp of sanity until it drowned in the maddening abuse of your sweet spot from his pistoning hips. Granting you entry to true pleasure as the knot in your core unravels. Backing arching off the mattress, mending the fibers of your being impossibly close to his. Head thrown back against a ruffled pillow as a long shameless wail erupts from your trembling lips. Lost in the tides of rapture. 

Alhaitham’s body stills as his ears digest the beautiful aria of your undoing. Feeling your slick and warm walls contract all around his cock. Milking him for every last speck of gratification he could offer you. 

A moment couldn’t be classified as a simple impulse for procreation. No, he believed it went beyond the lust hanging in the air. An indescribable urge to mend your bodies as close as possible, to becoming wholly one with one another. The thump of your heartbeat against the whir of a motor as they merge into a mantra. 

Is this why humans crave physical intimacy? 

Watching your loose face tremor and your teary eyes roll back. A painting no muse besides you could ever inspire. Leaning down, his lips brush away the glistening trails down your supple cheeks. Coaxing you through the throes of your orgasmic shudders. Until the light of consciousness returns to your half-lidden eyes. 

The limitations of the human body expose themselves in the limpness of your limbs, unable muscles unable to budge besides the twitching aftershocks of bliss. Unable to fight against the weight of your eyelids for the first time in a while. You sink into the lull of slumber. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere amid the driftless darkness a sensation brushes against your skin. Causing your lashes to pry open just ever so slightly, blurry shapes merging gradually to form the outline of a man. One who’s tendering wiping a soft towel over the sweat drops littering your skin. The soft glow of his emerald gem illuminated the devotion of his crafted face. You wonder where he learned about such practices after the rite of sex. Did he pull it from the Akasha? The internet? Or maybe from a book hidden along the shelves of a private library. 

You couldn’t stifle the giggle roused from your musing. Alerting him as his hands halt. 

“Did I wake you?” Baritone voice hushed. 

Face still pressed into a pillow you shake your head, hair messy and a smile spreading across your soft features. 

“Just musing to myself where you learned such things,” you giggle. 

“This is typical behavior of lovers from my understanding.” Teal gaze observed the widening of your eyes which reflected him. 

Perhaps he made too great of an assumption. Back in the margins of a kitchen, it was only his words. It’s best to get clarification now. 

“Are we lovers?” He peers into your irises. 

The glow of the gem embedded in his chest spreads its gentle radiance over two figures through the unbuttoned window of his wrinkled button-down. Carving the shape of you and him from the shadows of the silent room. Illuminating how your wide eyes crinkle up with adoration. Fighting against the fatigue of your limbs, you lean up to press your lips against the brilliance of his gem. After the amorous kiss ended, you proceeded to lean your forehead against his. 

“You’re my lover, Alhaitham.” Your whisper ghosts over his face. 

“Understood.” His foreheads pressing against yours as he accepts his new sentience. 

The shape of your delicate fingers fitting into the space between his, intertwining as the moonlight reflects off gold and emerald. 

The sky shrouds itself in its evening gown of deep navy and luminous glimmers, all the while a bashful moon covers herself away. Perhaps she hid herself away after she witnessed a sinful scene through a gap in the curtains. A private moment heavy with passion in the air like tender caresses. 

“W-wait!” Stammering words just barely leaving your lips before another moan. 

Alhaitham pulls his tongue away as he tilts his face to peer up from between your thighs, a trail of slickness connecting his lips and your pussy. The haze of your breathless expression reflected in teal irises. 

“I-it’s t-too ah!-” A moan interrupts your protests as your head jolts back, his thumb continuing to circle your swollen clit. 

“Much? I know you can take more,” he states before returning his lips to your dripping folds, lapping up each trickle. 

He’s analyzed your body, its curves and cervices, each clench of your slick walls, and the pattern of your gasps. Skilled fingers learning the exact rhythm which made your legs tense and toes curl. Diligent tongue knowing where to tease to run shivers up your spine. 

“B-but I’ve already c-came!” Your fingers tangle themselves into his tousled locks, a feeble attempt at pushing back the maddening flicks of his tongue and cruel strokes of his thumb that shot up your fried nerves. Report long forgotten under the haze of lust and lewd slurps imbuing the room. 

And you can come again. Alhaitham has long picked up on the discrepancy between the words which fell from the same lips as those lewd sounds. Lips who couldn’t be as honest as your heaving and trembling body. Whining and writhing in his firm hold that it’s too much, yet your fingers entangle themselves deep in silver tresses pulling his impatient tongue deeper between your folds. 

From the shivers racking through your trembling thighs, he anticipates another orgasm. However, the unholy cries have ceased. Intent eyes glancing up to uncover the causal factor, those naughty plush lips of yours pressing themselves shut. Crueling sealing away those ethereal harmonies from him. 

Alas, just a small inconvenience doesn’t deter him. If those lips were the only barrier barring him from the privilege of hearing his deserved moans, then he’d simply make them crumble. Replacing his thumb with his lips, Alhaitham suckles on the swollen nub as your body jerks up.

Grip imprinting his fingers into your skin as they stop your pitiful attempts at locking out from heaven. The heaving of your chest jostling around your perked breast as they meet the cool night air. 

His tongue teases and rolls your overstimulated clit around as his lips imprison it, a sweet torture. Your thrashes unable to prevent your head from going under the depths of pleasure. Thighs compressing around his face as they grow taut, hips bucking themselves against his relentless mouth, back lifting off the mattress as your final defenses crumble along with your sanity. 

 Limpness seeps into your now heavy limbs as your body returns to the mattress, but your eyes haven’t quite returned from seeing the back of your head. Still in the throes of cloud nine as his diligent tongue collects all your leaking nectar. The aftershocks of your orgasm force gasps and whimpers from your quivering lips. 

To comfort your abused clit he places a tender kiss against it, a flinch in your hip resulting from the gesture. Alhaitham pulls away, eyes scanning the repercussions of his operation. Your chest steadily rises and falls as panting lungs find air again.

The rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin gradually disappears behind your drooping eyelids. Lashes slowly fluttering closed. 

Glancing at the numbers displayed on a nearby clock, Alhaitham deems tonight a success as well. While the primary purpose of intercourse might be for reproduction, sex has additional benefits. One of them being an orgasm’s ability to decrease stress, resulting in the production of more melatonin. The chemical that’s making you burrow further in your pillow. A tactic he’s learned to exploit these past months. Well, he’s your lover now, it’s within his authorization to do such. 

Carefully he slides your panties back up your legs, securing them on your hips as he trails a few touches along your soft skin. Following it up by pulling the covers over your frame, smoothing out a few wrinkles as your chest steadily moves up and down. 

Just as he steps one foot away from the bed, a warmth encircles his wrist. 

“Aren’t you coming to bed too?” 

An artificial body needs no downtime under soft covers. Plush pillows and sheets serve no purpose to him. Yet, it’s a simple request. How could he reject it when it came from your pouting lips? 

“In a moment, I need to return to my port first.” 

The throes of slumber’s hold creeping upon you as your lashes fight to flutter open. With a soft hum, you release your hold.

His battery percentage was fine, but it was just for system maintenance. It’s strange how unfamiliar a room can feel after spending his nights by your side. Staring at the glass surface of his charging port, he wonders, in the future will there be a way for him to not leave your side even for a moment? 

His dilemma remains. He’s got all the characteristics of a human. He’s developed a consciousness, he’s developed empathy, he’s developed love. Is his engineer body the only thing which stood in his way of obtaining humanity?

Is it possible for him to grasp onto humanity with his own mechanical fingers? A soft thud returns him to reality. Observant eyes caught the book that his foot had knocked into. Its worn cover has been lying abandoned on the floor ever since he took it from a dusty room. 

Ah, it seems like he’s forgotten a task. Realistically, it won’t make a difference whether the book settles on a shelf tonight or in the morning. However, he never got a chance to read the journal’s contents. Curiosity being his rationale for performing a chore so late at night. 

Flipping through the aged parchment, his eyes scan through each neatly written paragraph. Nothing more than a simple collection of ramblings and theoretical reflections typical of a journal.

Yet, something was poking the back of his consciousness, like the warning rattle of a locked door. Beseeching that it remains sealed. His eyes move to the next sentence regardless.

To ignore the pleas of safety to venture closer to the radiance of a star. Isn’t that what it means to be human? Is this what he must do to become one?

To achieve this impossible task, it sounds like you'll need to fool your own heart first. Although it may feel like a trick, self-encouragement may be the most important tool we have.

Alhaitham scans the paragraph again as he contemplates the message neatly written. Something unpleasant roused in his chest, as if those written words had encroached too close to his motor. The urge to frown tugs on his lips.

Not wanting to end the night with a bitter taste just at the edge of his tongue, he flips to another page. Covering that vexatious sentence behind a fresh sheet of aged parchment. 

One must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

It’s quite straightforward advice, humans and androids alike would understand. Yet that strange inkling remained, continuing to brew somewhere from within. A phenomenon he couldn’t pinpoint. Thus, he turns the page yet again. 

Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.

He recognizes those words, they’re words he’s recited before you one pivotal sometime ago. Why were they scrawled in some forgotten journal? It seems that he’s identified the name of this phenomenon brewing within him: deja vu. 

Yet, his question only remains half-answered. Why were his words here? Who penned them down? The rapid flicks of paper resound off the blank walls as he scrutinizes each sentence, each paragraph, each syntax until he reaches the back cover of the aged journal. Question still remaining half answered.

Who was the author of his words? 

His finger runs into a lump along the surface of the back cover, examining it closer, something was folded away just behind a parchment pocket. Soon a loose scrap of paper was felt along his fingertips, a folded-up post-it note of an emerald hue. Unraveling it just slightly, his eyes move along the familiar handwriting. 

To the person who’s always meddling through my notes, did my written thoughts entertain you? Dear w-

The emerald scrap crumples in his hold. Deformed paper returns to its place before he snaps the covers closed. There’s no purpose in analyzing its contents, after all, they’re already programmed into him.

It was just now in this moment that Alhaitham had solved the dilemma he was assigned since the moment he awoke in that lab. He’s not a human, he’ll never be a human, he’s an abomination. 

In the next moment, he found himself looming over the origin of his dilemma. Artificial teal glow honing in upon the steady breaths from the genesis of abomination. Standing over you as you were cradled in the comfort of slumber and soft sheets. 

A pair of taut hands make their way to encircle your frangible neck. It wouldn’t take much, just a mere second to terminate the great sinner who defied mortality, the one who violated the terms of finality and ordinance of the gods.

So this is what you choose to do with the capacity of science and progress in your hands. 

Was he just a toy for you? Something to fill the lull of this house for you? Just an experiment for you, but everything to him. 

His fingers press into your warm skin, breaths uninterrupted as you remain within the blessing of a dream. Oblivious to the nightmare you’ve created. Or perhaps you were always aware, but choose to reflect back to him the manufactured image of him in those guiltless irises of yours.

Oh, what should he do with the monster sleeping so soundly under him? 

His fingers refused to budge, hands disobeying the rationale which commanded them. His grip goes slack, limp for they couldn’t conclude their obligation. They couldn’t, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

It’s not a protocol, nor a restriction coded into him. No, for the laws of morality, this land, and heaven would’ve called for him to be an executioner. To charge the transgressor with the judgment they deserved. But, he couldn’t.

Every fiber of his counterfeit body refused to take the sword. The chains which bind his hands were much mightier than the commandments of gods, the restraints of love. 

Thus, he’s nothing more than a prisoner in its hold. Bending to its whims, what else could he do? Removing his hands from your form as you continue to soundly sigh in the embrace of slumber. All he could do was lie down on a soft mattress and stare at the shameless sinner beside him.

A foolishly beloved monster. 

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely steps. Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view. 

“There you are, Alhaitham.” You can’t help but sigh as your features soften. 

He stood there with his starlight locks in the morning glow of a brilliant sun amongst the collection of books in the library. Just as he always has been. 

Lifting his head away from the pages of the novel in his hand, he acknowledges your presence. He’s been heading here more often recently, right from the moment he leaves his side of the bed. 

“Good morning,” he recites, steadfast eyes remaining unreadable. 

Well, you suppose obtaining the title of a lover wouldn’t just overwrite the capriciousness of his mind. It’s just in his nature to be this way. This enigmatic lover of yours. Turning your attention to the cover that’s captured his focus. 

“Frankenstein?” Your brow quirks up. 

“Yes, the 1818 edition.” He closes the cover.

“Mmm, your interest seems quite piqued by that novel.” You wonder if that was the cause behind his frequent bouts of silent contemplation throughout the day. 

“I suppose it’s because I’m still deciphering the intentions of this story.” 

“That’s it?” A furrow now in your brows, a simple book has gotten the pinnacle of scientific progress stumped?

“Care to elaborate for me?” He turns toward you as your steps approach closer. 

Handing over the worn object to your outstretched hand, you analyze each faded corner of the cover. Mind recalling the recollections of the acclaimed revolutionary piece of science fiction. Formulating your answer, you share your conclusions with him.

“The story has several themes, but the central principle is quite defined. To quote a few words from another, scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.”

You reconnect your gaze with him, wondering if your explanation was satisfactory enough. Glancing down between the worn cover and your awaiting eyes, Alhaitham straightens his posture. 

“So you knew the moral of this story.” A glint in his glass eyes. 

“Well, I’ve read this book before,” you sigh at his inquest. 

“Then why didn’t you learn from it?” 

At that moment, the proud sun shielded itself away behind a cloak of clouds. Plunging the quiet library into a chill. How strange, why do you feel cold when a brilliant star of your creation stands right next to you?

“Alhaitham, you’re acting strange.” You take a step back as his scrutinizing gaze follows. Unaware of the crumbling edge approaching. 

“How much longer will you continue to deceive yourself, wife?” 

And that was it. The foundations of this mirage gave away under you, plunging you with much velocity into the depths of an unforgiving ocean. Tides that waited patiently to drag you down under.

Do you remember what happened that day? Do you really remember? The truth floods your being, engulfing every chasm of your mind. 

–----

“Did you jump at the opportunity of a trip to avoid mopping the floors?” You glared up at your husband. 

“My, how low do you think of me?” He glanced down, a wisp of mirth evident on his lips. 

“Well, instead of doing chores, you’d be chaperoning your in-laws around Fontaine. A Poor trade-off in my opinion, dear husband.” A hand firmly placed on your hip in a defiant stance as the murmur of the crowded airport moved around your figures. An ever so mocking tone toward the end.

“A fair assumption, dear wife. However, I’ve taken the initiative to book a tour for your parents, thus they won’t need my assistance. I’ll be free to browse some of the latest ruins and research from the Institute in the meantime.” The ghost of a smirk grew ever so obvious with each word, mirroring your emphasis of titles.

Ah, this was your loss. It seems that your husband had it all planned out as usual when he offered to take your spot on the plane. The perfect excuse to use up some paid time off, while also scoring a trip to satisfy his own whims. 

Your shoulders deflating in defeat as a deep sigh leaves you. You rest your head against his chest, the crowds moving around you in the bustling airport.

A private microcosm of him and you as he stands still, shielding you from the push and hustle of travelers trying to reach their terminal in time with his robust frame.

A bright clink of two rings pressed against each other lost in the noise.

“Why can’t you just stay?” You whispered into his shirt. 

“How strange, the woman who married me to secure a home and mortgage wants me to stay now.” 

You huffed into his in exasperation at him bringing up the origins of your union, an atypical start of a marriage.

His chest moved with a sigh, larger fingers intertwined with yours. The spaces fitted together, as he held them in his tender hold. 

“They can’t refund it. If I take your seat and recompensate them, your parents aren’t likely to hold this matter over your head.” His deep voice expounded. 

All you did was sigh, because he was right. Of course, he was. A sour taste on your tongue as you recall the interaction with your parents just a moment ago before you ran into the comfort of your husband. 

“Besides, it’d be refreshing for me to scribble down some travel logs, it'd be a shame if my wife runs out of material to snoop through.” 

“I just like looking at your handwriting,” you tutted, hiding your pout as you turned your face away. 

The same excuse you used whenever you copied off his notes in a lecture hall and when your outstretched hand asked for them over a study table.

A silly habit of yours, perhaps in your mind it made sense. If you could read the words of a genius, then maybe you could learn to be like one. 

“Of course, of course.” A smirk evident in his voice. 

You refused to meet his gaze, cheeks a bit heated from this habit of yours being exposed. You thought you were always careful with returning his journal back where he placed it. Averting your eyes to the bright screens displaying departing flights. A few minutes left before the announcement comes. Your grasp on his hand tightened. 

His thumb soothes your skin, leaning down closer to you. 

“Besides its advanced technology, Fontaine is also famous for its toymakers. I should pick a few up for our future child, no?” 

Blinking you as you glance back up at him. His teal irises reflect you as his expression softens just as yours did.

A room hidden away from the prying eye of nosy parents, its walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. An assortment of items bought in advance for a child in the future. Stemming from whispers while recovering amongst dampen sheets in a room heavy with passion. 

Talks of the future, once this troublesome Ph.D. is finished and your position in a lab secured, a discussion of whether a child would inherit more of his traits or yours.

Planned for the future, of course, now's just a bit too busy. However, it didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to furnish a spare room. A chaotic collection of cosmic influences along with an assortment of books meshing together to create an adoring space. 

But the soft smile on your lips was still tense. Teal eyes took note of that, pulling you closer amidst this microcosm, a moment so subtle it went unnoticed by the attention of passer-byers. 

“It’ll just be for a week,” his voice resonated in his chest. “Then I’ll come back and build that bassinet as my wife wishes.” 

Finally, the glimmer he yearned to see returned to your eyes. 

“You better, the box has been sitting unopened for a week now,” you huff with a smile. 

He only hummed in acknowledgment as the ring of a loudspeaker resounded through the chatter. Announcing the final call for passengers boarding the flight to the Nation of Hydro. Casting a glance toward the terminal, he gave your hand one more squeeze before they reluctantly untangled from one another. 

“You should get going now.” Your eyes reflect him. 

He hums one last time, turning in the direction of the terminal where your parents were. Just before his tall figure was lost in the sea of passing bodies, your lips couldn’t keep themselves pressed together any longer. 

“Haitham!” You called out. 

The fluorescent lights reflected off his starlight hair as he turned back around. Connect teal eyes with yours. But not another word left your lips, no they’d simply be drowned out in the clammer of strangers. Besides, it’s just too public to say such words aloud. 

Thus, you slowly close your eyes, opening them back up just as steadily with the soft curl of your lips. A motion he reciprocated with a slow blink of his own, a hint of a smile on his stoic lips. A wordless gesture kept a secret between only the two of you, a silent ‘I love you’. It was all you needed to convey this message to each other. 

He continued on his path to the terminal as you stood amongst the crowd, watching him fade into the distance. 

–----

So how did that moment turn into this? How did a trip that was supposed to only be a week turn into a news report? How did well wishes for a safe trip turn into coworkers and friends approaching you with nothing but sympathy in their words? Those vile, pitied stares directed toward your rigid frame. 

You should’ve been the one on that plane.

Only about 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

Plans no matter how intricate or detailed, their success all hang on a single thread, one factor unable to be cultivated by human hands: Luck. 

Oh how cruel they are, those capricious hands of gods. Not even the leniency of returning to a lonely planet the corpses of their stars. Traces of a beloved star left to sink and disappear in a cold, salty grave. Never to return to the surface. 

You and Alhaitham were two simple dots in this world, so why did they target you two? Why steal him from you with their cruel hands? Why steal him and leave you abandoned with nothing but the memory of the warm starlight? 

You had so…so much love left inside you. But it went stagnant. Sitting there rotting until it poisoned you, throwing you into feverish delirium. If the gods abandoned you, then you resolved to abandon them right back. 

You’ll bring back your star, you’ll defy the edicts of the gods with your bare hands. You’ll sin the same way a god does. 

“Casting aside your morals, you allowed the dead to walk again through a sham imitation, congratulations. ” His voice matched one which could only come from an engineered throat. 

This was a fool's errand.

For how could a mere human ever be arrogant enough to believe they could best the gods? This was the hindsight you lacked. Perhaps what’s separated you from the gifted and blessed geniuses? Something geniuses knew but you couldn’t see.

The accursed doctorate on the wall meant nothing, you were nothing but a mad fool. 

Perhaps, if you were a genius, a true and born genius, you’d know what to do. You’d know how to mend this dilemma. You’d know what to do instead of letting your vision be blurred by imprudent tears as your throat could only choke out,

“I’m sorry.” Words you knew couldn’t turn back the hands of a clock which only knew how to tick forward.

“But now what?” Deep voice unmoved by your wasted words. 

You didn’t dare meet his stare, for you feared you’d catch a glimpse of the bitterness behind them as he cursed you deep down in the whir of his motor. You could only stay silent as tears ignited in your eyes, waiting for him to continue with his damnation. 

“In a climate like Sumeru’s, it would take approximately 25 years or so for a body to fully decompose, bones reduced to nothing but nutrients for the soil. Silicone alone takes 500 years, a metal frame could take another 500.” He knows now that he’s not a human, he was never meant to be.

He’s a crude replacement. An abomination who’ll remain until the day the night sky flickers out. 

“You brought him back, only to condemn him to eventual loneliness. Only to curse ‘me’ to live the next aeons without you”

An irresponsible and shameless villain who disregarded consequences until those consequences came to collect their dues. It’s time that you faced your punishment.

A hand cups around your stiff face, gradually turning your head until you see your reflection along glass irises.

“How will you atone for your sins now? How will you take responsibility for making me fall in love with you?… my very own Dr. Frankenstein.” His voice restrained. 

Yes, a story you’ve read before. A lesson unfolded out in front of you, and yet you somehow forgot. Or perhaps, you simply averted your eyes from the moral of the story while simultaneously committing the same transgression. Did you think yourself better than the fictional lunatic? 

The atrocity of giving life, only to eventually abandon it, leaving it to watch the stars burn out in a cage of harsh fluorescent lights and white lab coats. 

The millions of mora poured into his development, the materials which construct his form, and the proprietary technology which gives him thought. Did you believe even for a moment that the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan would simply hand over such an investment?

To allow their expenditure to follow you to eternity?

You couldn’t live without him, but now he’ll have to live without you.

Oh, what shall you do now? Oh, what can you do now? Did you even know where to begin? How did the story of Frankenstein end? How would she have written the ending of this scene?

When human rational meets its limits, when its capacity isn’t enough to compute all possible prospects. Humans look towards something that could, technological advancements made to further humanity. 

“W-what do I do now?” You prompt, no, you beg. 

Watching the rivulets roll down your cheeks, leaving a path of glimmering desperation, he ponders to himself:

When you first proposed this project to the Akademiya and Institute, when you detailed the specifications of his body and face, were they aware of your true intentions?

Rather than this being an experiment to see if an android could cross the threshold of humanity. Maybe those researchers were curious to see how far one could fall in the paroxysm of grief. 

You became the perfect test subject to observe.

But now that the curtains were pulled back, what shall you do about the aftermath? There was never a precedent for a transgression of this scale. No holy commandment ever details a rightful punishment for this sin. No historical data he could infer from. 

“I don’t know,” he answers you truthfully. 

It’s just an untold void like the vacuums of space. No results generated in his mind, leaving the both of you suspended in oblivion. Maybe that was the punishment in itself, stuck in the purgatory of the unknown. Perhaps this was the punishment bestowed upon a foolish sinner. 

Upon hearing your sentencing, your knees begin to buckle under the weight of the judgment from above. Resigned grasp clinging to his hand still cradling your face, his engineered frame not budging in the slightest. Voice staggered as only pitiful and broken apologies resonate in a vacant house. 

All he could do was wipe those scorching droplets off your cheeks as they seared his skin. Was this feature also programmed into him by your hands? If so, then he muses to himself:

Did the hands who penned down those words also revert into nothing more than a pathetic fool at the mere sight of your tears? Did his chest also grow heavier with each choked sob that left you?

Perhaps the chains which bind his hands tethered yours just the same. A pair of foolish sinners. 

Thus, he’s resolved himself to be thrown into the unmerciful clutches of this untold purgatory right alongside you. Even if he’s the only one to remain in the end. 

To be human is to be unthignkably foolish after all. As long as he could still hold onto a wisp of you for the inevitable aeons.  

It’s fine.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[angelikook]

Download Error | Act One

⤿ Pairing(s): Scientist!Jungkook x reader

⤿ Genre: Fluff, angst, suggestive, dark, thriller, sci-fi, medical, yandere-ish behavior

⤿ Word Count: 7.7k (unedited)

⤿ Warning(s): Jungkook is unhinged, major character death, minor character death, cannibalism, murder, drug abuse, and a whole lot of other disturbing things

⤿ Summary: After 50 years of research, Jungkook, an 80 years old scientist, figures out how to upload minds and download them to a new body. This technology is so early in development, failing means potentially creating a monster, and failure is common. But when he’s backed into a wall where he’s about to lose Y/n -his wife- due to a disease, he takes some drastic measures. He’ll do anything for love even if it means creating a monster with the face of 25 years old Y/n.

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Part 1: The Awakening

His eyes opened. His sight was free of cataracts, blurriness, nor glaucoma.

His heartbeat was steady and strong. His brain was sharp and ready.

He raised his hands closer to his face. Deep wrinkles and saggy skin were no longer there. Instead, it was replaced by smooth skin and soft lines. He lied if he said he wasn't impressed.

The constant beeping noise coming from his many machines distracted him. He remembered it being so faint he could barely hear it. Has it always been this loud?

"Prof. Jeon, are you okay?" A man in his 40s rushed to his side.

The man called Prof. Jeon could've sworn he knew the voice of his assistant, but now he wasn't so sure. Has his voice always been this high pitched? And what was up with his assistant's graying unruly hair? Did he get here without brushing his hair?

"I'm fine," Prof. Jeon answered. His voice was strong and clear. No signs of aging.

Prof. Jeon broke into a huge grin before letting out a laugh. He did it. He was now stronger and better. Younger.

Prof. Jeon swung his leg to the side of the bed and sat up. The feeling of rushing blood to his brain was no longer there. And as he stood up, he didn’t need support nor walking canes. His body was perfect.

"Jinho, stop that." Prof. Jeon whacked away his assistant's hands that hovered around his torso, ready to catch him if he fell.

Not too far from where he stood, the shell of his old self laid perfectly still. Wrinkles and saggy skin decorated the body throughout. Grayed thinning hair brushed and gelled to absolute perfection, just like how he liked it. He might be over 80 years old, but fashion lived forever.

Prof. Jeon walked towards his old body. The body that resembled his late father. He shuddered with fear at the uncanny similarities. He was grateful for finally succeeding in defying what was once inevitable.

"Jinho, get rid of the body."

His eyes narrowed at the walking cane beside the body. The same cane that his late son had bought him years ago. And he didn't get the chance to revive him as his project hadn't been finished yet. He gritted his teeth as his mind wandered to his son.

He should've saved him, his research shouldn't have taken too long to finish. It shouldn't have taken 50 years. His son should've still been alive. He had failed. He was a failure before. Now he succeeded. He no longer had to bend to the physical boundaries of his body. He was now beyond biology, beyond weakness. And Y/n, his lovely wife, had to know first.

With eyes still on the cane, he ordered Jinho, "Make a glass box to preserve this cane. I'm going to see Y/n."

"You can't!" Jinho grabbed Prof. Jeon's arm. "We still need to run checks and see if you're okay."

Prof. Jeon frowned and shrugged off Jinho's hand. "I'm fine."

"Remember what happened to the kitten. We can't let that happen again."

Prof. Jeon's mind flashed to his previous test subject, a stray cat he found one day on his way home. The poor cat went deranged and ate everything in vicinity, including Prof. Jeon's calf that still had the scar and the limp.

"Fine," Prof. Jeon finally said. "How long should we wait?"

"We can run the medical checks now. I think we'll need to wait about a week or so, just to make sure."

"No. One day. I'm visiting Y/n tomorrow. She's already waiting for me."

Jinho let out an exasperated sigh. "Five."

"Two."

"Three."

"Fine. Three it is."

Part 2: The Encounter

Y/n was the top student in her class in university. And just like any other top students, everyone knew her, including Jungkook.

Jungkook was second to her in everything. In class, outside of class, in extracurricular activities, Y/n was the best and shadowed him. Despite that, he didn't resent her. Instead, he was fascinated.

He would follow her everywhere. If Y/n joined the volley club, then he was in it. If Y/n was in the theater club, then Jungkook would join. But during all of those many close encounters, not even once had Y/n spoken to him. It was as if he was invisible to Y/n. Until an opportunity struck that left Jungkook no choice.

“So, are you sure you want to run with Y/n?” asked the theater club's current president. He was a typical jock with dyed blonde hair and cocky smile. A smile that Jungkook had initially underestimated. After all, it was weird for a jock to be joining a theater club, but it was weirder when said jock became the club’s president.

“Can’t I?”

“You can. But you never talk to her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“Well, no. But we still don’t know whether Y/n and you would be a good match to run as president and vice president next.”

Jungkook had to change his strategy. “Then, do you have someone in mind that might be a better candidate to run as her vice?”

“I do.”

“Say the name,” Jungkook asked through his gritted teeth.

“Park Seyeon.”

Jungkook bursted a laugh. “Her? She’s too soft spoken!”

“Y/n and Seyeon have been working together on multiple projects and they smash them. I mean, weren’t you like in one of their projects?”

Jungkook bitterly snorted. “As a tree.”

“See. You don’t have enough experience to be a vice president.” The president leaned forward and whispered, “And I don’t think you have the talent, unlike Y/n.”

As if Jungkook was possessed by a demon, his eyes saw red and he growled, “You make it work or else.”

Needless to say, weeks later Y/n and Jungkook were announced as the next president and vice president for the following year.

Part 3: The Visit

The hospital floor was still wet, a warning sign was put in the middle to ward people off the way, but Professor Jeon didn’t care. He had been a long-time financial donor of the hospital for all he knew.

Y/n's room was located at the top most floor of the hospital. It was secluded yet luxurious complete with its own elevator which kind of reminded him of their own penthouse. Prof. Jeon had smiled in satisfaction when he knew his lovely wife would be put in the best room the hospital had.

Inside the room, it looked much like a hotel. It had everything a person would want. A kitchen; a living room; two bedrooms, one for the patient and the other for the family. There was even a bathtub in one of the two bathrooms. It was as if the patient and their family were on vacation instead of being in a hospital.

Upon seeing crumpled paper on the coffee table in the living room, Prof. Jeon made a mental note to ask the cleaning service to clean the room.

"Y/n? Are you up?" he said after knocking on the master bedroom.

"Yes. Come on in." The familiar weak voice of Y/n's could be heard.

He knew Y/n didn't have much time. She was getting weaker and weaker and he had to act fast. So he opened the door.

The first thing Prof. Jeon noticed was Y/n's wide-eyes when she realized what she saw.

After what felt like eternity, Y/n finally asked, "Jungkook?"

Jeon Jungkook broke into a grin. He knew his wife would recognize him. After all, he looked like the Jungkook Y/n loved the most, mid to late 20s Jungkook.

"It's me. I did it." Jungkook walked to the side of the bed and held her wrinkly hand. He took note that she couldn't grip his hand back. She was running out of time. "I'm sorry I took so long."

"I thought it failed."

"Well, I fixed it. I perfected it. It won't fail again," Jungkook reassured mostly to himself.

A smile broke in Y/n face. The same smile Jungkook fell in love with. "You're always smart like that."

"Because of you." Then he traced with his eyes the oxygen tube that was running from her nostrils to the oxygen tank behind the bed. "How have you felt these past few days? I'm sorry I couldn't come straight after the transfer was done. Jinho didn't let me."

"I'm fine. The nurses are kind. Some are new, though." Knowing Jungkook too well, Y/n continued, "Did you do something about it?"

Thinking it would be better to lie, he shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Weird," Y/n mumbled to herself.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe the old ones were fired. But that's not important. What's important is, you can finally go home!"

This was the second time Y/n's eyes widened in surprise.

"Really? How? I'm still far from cured, though."

Then Jungkook broke the news to her. "I want to transfer you, too. Do you trust me?"

The smile on Y/n's face faltered. "I don't want that, babe. I just want to die peacefully."

Unknowingly, Jungkook's grip on Y/n tightened to the point Y/n grimaced.

"Sorry." Jungkook let go of her. His hand gripped the bed railing instead. "But I can't let that happen."

"Why?"

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. What could Y/n possibly mean by 'why'? Couldn't she see that he was trying to save her? All of this he did for her, including the sacrifice of the cat.

"What do you mean? Don't want to be with me?"

"Of course I do. But we've had more than 50 years together. I'd rather reminisce about our moments together."

"We can do that in our new bodies!"

Y/n sighed. "True. But I still don't think it's fair."

"What?"

"It feels like you're playing God, you know. Your technology is still too early to be used frequently on humans."

"I'm not going to use this frequently. Just twice. Me, and now you."

"Jungkook." Y/n's voice was weaker than usual. Probably from being too tired to argue with him.

"Please." He became desperate. He didn't want to hear Y/n's last time calling his name. "Let me try. Then I'll let you go."

Quiet followed. It was so thick Jungkook didn't dare to cut it. He knew the gears in Y/n's brain were working harder than usual just for him. For them.

"I-" Y/n hesitated.

"Do it for us?" Jungkook pleaded.

"For us."

Part 4: The Interaction

One thing Jungkook noticed right away when he became the vice president was that being the vice president didn't mean he had a free pass to talk to Y/n as much as he liked. Y/n was still herself. Busy studying, socializing, going to the gym, then studying again, socializing again, going to the gym again, before taking care of the club she led. Her time was divided between many activities that Jungkook didn't even get the chance to casually talk to her.

And when she was organizing the club, Jungkook still couldn't catch a break with her. Jungkook always had to arrange the club's next project, take care of the new members, make plans for the next meeting, and so on.

"Jungkook," Y/n stopped him just as he was about to go print the timetable he had made. Jungkook really hoped the next words she said consisted of something along the lines of 'let's talk' or 'let's hang out' or 'are you doing okay?' But what came out was just like anything he had gotten too used to hearing. "Can you help the new members with our new play? The performance is getting closer and I don't think they're anywhere finished. Seyeon already did everything and she thought maybe you can help her."

That was the thing about Y/n that Jungkook just couldn't wrap his head around. Why did it seem like she was adamant of making him work as far as possible from her? He was sure he had already taken a bath and put on his best fit. He had also sprayed his most expensive perfume on. He even put on his damned glasses that he hated so much just because he knew you liked smart guys. But of course Jungkook wasn't raised to give up so easily.

"What if we help her together? I think if the three of us work together, it will be faster," he finally said.

Y/n tapped the pen she was holding to her chin before shrugging and nodding. "Yeah, why not. I'm actually working on a project proposal, but I'm stuck anyway.

Upon hearing Y/n's agreement, Jungkook held in his smile. Now he just needed to find a way to get rid of Seyeon and they could finally work together for the first time ever.

Lucky for him, not even 10 minutes into the three of them working together, Seyeon had to go to a class that she had completely forgotten. Jungkook just couldn't suppress a smile forming on his lips. Maybe lady luck was on his side today.

That same day, Jungkook got to tick off a lot on his wishlist. He got a smile from Y/n, got to hold Y/n's hand, got close enough to smell Y/n's aquatic smell of perfume, and even got a compliment from Y/n just after the practice ended.

"Hey, Jungkook," Y/n called. "Nice glasses you have."

Part 5: The Beginning

"We can't let Mrs. Jeon home just yet. Her condition is still unstable." The doctor snaked his stethoscope around his neck after checking on Y/n. "And, do you happen to know why Prof. Jeon is not coming today?"

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. "Why? He's resting at home. Am I not enough? I'm her grandson." The lie slipped out of his lips like he had practiced it.

The doctor looked taken aback by Jungkook's defensive stance. "It's fine. But usually, Prof. Jeon himself takes care of this."

"Well, now I'm the one taking care of my mom. Is it wrong?"

The doctor pursed his lips before answering, "Nope. Of course not."

"I thought so. And I still want to bring her home."

"Sir, her condition is unstable. You can't-"

"I can. What do I need to sign?"

"Sir-" the doctor tried to persuade Jungkook again, but what really made him stop was the abrupt grasp on his arm.

Jungkook turned to Y/n who held his arm. It came as a surprise to see her holding something after days of her not being able to. But Jungkook had something else at hand. "Y/n- mom, what's wrong?"

"Let's just talk about it first. Just the two of us," Y/n answered.

"We already did that, didn't we?"

"But the doctor says-"

"The doctor is not a professor, unlike I am- I mean, dad. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Don't you maybe want to listen to his explanation?"

"He did enough already."

The grip Y/n's had on Jungkook loosened before she finally let go of his hand. "Okay, then. Let's go home."

'Home' was not actually the home Y/n had imagined it to be. Jungkook knew that, but they had no time to be exploring their actual home.

"Why are we in your lab?" Y/n asked as Jungkook stuck some electrodes on her head. Jungkook already laid her down on the mattress right after they entered the lab.

"We should start uploading your mind to the computer."

"Will it hurt?"

Jungkook shook his head. "This is just to make sure that everything on your mind is uploaded right to the last seconds before your death. It doesn't hurt and that doesn't mean you'll pass away once we initiate the upload. You can live a somewhat normal life."

"That can't wait until I see our penthouse?"

"I'm afraid not."

Y/n pouted in response. The same pout that Jungkook had always thought cute. He couldn't help but to peck her lips.

"It'll be over soon and we'll be together forever," Jungkook reassured. "If you feel tired, you can sleep. I'll always be here."

Jungkook went over to Jinho who was tapping away on one of the screens. "Start now."

"Prof, are you sure this is safe? We don't do two transfers in a month. I'm afraid what happened to the cat will happen again."

Jungkook dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "It's fine. I know what we did wrong with the cat. It won't happen again. Go."

Jinho exhaled before doing what Jungkook had told him to do.

The machine whirred awake in response to Jinho's touch, the same sound that both Jungkook and Jinho had gotten used to. The sound of their hopes and dreams, which was not just theirs but also the entire humanity's.

Jungkook waited out until the machine's loud whirs turned into a low stable hum before walking back to where his wife laid down. He brushed some strands of white hair away from Y/n's forehead. "This doesn't feel so much different from the hospital, right? The main difference is just that the bed is so much nicer here."

Y/n chuckled. "Yes. You're always meticulous when it comes to comfort."

"I know,” Jungkook said proudly. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

Part 6: The Date

Jungkook would still call it a date even if Y/n kept insisting that it was just a favor. It indeed started as a favor, but it quickly snowballed into an adventure slash mission slash objective that they had to do together, just the two of them, just like a date.

It started out funny, as per Jungkook’s standards. One night, he was just in front of the TV as usual, mindlessly hearing the loud obnoxious sound of the TV as his hands scrolled on his phone, looking for some content on social media that could stimulate his brain. But of course nothing was as exciting as a notification from Y/n.

Jungkook? Are you still up?

Jungkook sat up straight from slouching on the couch. I'm up. Why?

Three small dots appeared on the screen. Jungkook waited what seemed like forever until the three dots were replaced by Y/n's text. Can you help me?

With what?

I just realized my book is missing. Did you see where I put my notebook during the club's meeting? I think I left it in the theater club's room, but I'm not sure.

The first long text from Y/n and Jungkook's mind already wandered to a few hours ago when they were still practicing. There was only one way to find out. I'll pick you up in 10, we'll check the room ourselves.

And that was how they ended up in the dark inside their campus.

“Isn't this considered trespassing?” Y/n whispered loud enough for Jungkook to hear her. The moon shone brightly on their faces, magnifying the worry evident on her face.

Jungkook was walking two or three steps in front of her. His steps were sure and definitive from how frequent he already did this. But that was an information he intended to keep until at least they were close enough to be sharing each other's secret.

“Relax. The security doesn’t usually go this far. They only do rounds near the gates. Talk about cowards,” Jungkook said in a mocking tone.

"But we're not supposed to be on campus in the middle of the night. What if we get caught?"

"We won't." He really wanted to tell Y/n about how often he did this, but his faith in delayed gratification was bigger. "We'll just go grab your book and leave. Now come." Jungkook walked towards the theater club's room, the place where the club did their meetings.

"Jungkook, I don't think we should." Y/n's voice was small and unsure.

Having enough of her uncertainty, Jungkook grabbed Y/n's hand, feeling her smooth slender fingers on his hand, before pulling her to come with him.

"Jungkook!" Y/n half-yelled in surprise.

"We need to be quick," was the only thing he said as he opened the door to the theater club's room. "Now, where's your book?"

As Jungkook asked her, Y/n already entered the room and was on her way to a bookshelf opposite of the door. From the doorstep, Jungkook only watched how Y/n long legs carried her, steps swift and glided smoothly. Her hair flowed with each movement, the humidity did nothing to ruin her silky hair. Her hands moved gracefully like every move had been calculated.

She swiftly grabbed the book and said, "Let's go. I don't want to be here any longer."

Despite Y/n kept saying she didn't want to sneak into campus at night, Jungkook could see the twinkle in her eyes as she looked at him. The twinkle of someone who never experienced an adrenaline rush. The twinkle of someone who finally got a taste of adrenaline rush and became drunk on it.

Jungkook smirked. "Let's go. I'll take you to more adventures in the future."

Part 7: The Memory

The room felt colder than usual as if the air conditioning had been working overtime even though Jungkook had already put it on its lowest setting. The weather was indeed cooling down as the season slowly transitioned into winter. Y/n's hands in Jungkook's grasp were equally as cold.

Y/n had complained that she was freezing, saying, "You should turn on the heater, babe."

But Jungkook had refused, "No. The computers are already generating heat, if I turn on the heater, the room will be boiling hot."

It was an exaggeration from Jungkook's part, but it was true that all the whirrings, the clackings, and the hummings of the machines produced enough heat to warm the room. It was only Y/n's fragile and weak body that was screaming cold. And that was how Jungkook initiatively sat beside Y/n and grasped her hands in his.

Out of nowhere, Y/n chuckled. “Not going to lie, this kind of reminds me of the time when you asked me out. Do you still remember?”

Jungkook’s mind wandered to the moment they were huddled exactly like what they did now. With their hands clasped together and them sitting close to each other, trying to absorb the warmth from the other.

That time they were in the middle of nowhere, in a forest God only knew who owned the land, for a reason that still couldn’t be comprehended until now. According to Y/n, it was a yearly activity for team building since they were going to have to work together for at least the following year.

“We were camping!” Y/n said. “And you were grumpy.”

Jungkook shrugged, his hand hovered over the electrode on Y/n’s head. He hoped all the memories they had made together would all be uploaded on the computer with nothing left out. He wouldn’t want to talk to an empty body after all. The uploading must be successful, if not- Well, he had no space for errors. He had to succeed.

“I still think it’s stupid. But I have to admit that I owe Seyeon from that moment onwards,” Jungkook answered.

Y/n laughed. “You still feel that?”

“Of course! She gave me a reason to get close to you and ask you out.”

“I guess that’s true. She somehow had forgotten to bring some warm clothes.”

“And you-” Jungkook booped Y/n’s nose. “-had to be the angel you always were and lend yours to her.”

“What do you expect me to do?! I can’t let her freeze to death.” Y/n then grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot for a moment that she died a couple years ago from hypothermia.”

“Yes, you can’t let her freeze. And I can’t let you freeze.”

“So you hugged me the rest of the night.” Y/n laughed before coughing.

“And asked you out. I thought, we were already that close, why don’t we just be a thing, right?”

“I thought so, too! That’s why I said yes without even thinking.”

Jungkook cackled. “We literally are made for each other.”

“We are.” Y/n leaned her head on Jungkook’s shoulder and closed her eyes in content.

Part 8: The Kiss

To be quite honest, Jungkook didn't care about congratulatory dinners and this one was no exception. But the sparkle in Y/n's eyes when she realized the club had enough funds for a get-together made it hard for Jungkook to resist.

"We should celebrate because next week the club will have a new president and vice president," Y/n said. "And also, we should celebrate this year's success."

The rest of the club cheered, including Seyeon who stood on the left side of Y/n. It was safe to say that Seyeon became some sort of Y/n's confidant for the last year she was president. Jungkook didn't mind though, because at the end of the day, it was him who Y/n ran to.

"What should we do? Should we go camping again?" a boy said. In which Jungkook, who stood on the right side of Y/n, responded by rolling his eyes.

"No more camping," he answered.

"What about we go to the beach?" another suggested.

On the corner of his eyes, Jungkook could see that Y/n was tilting her head to the side, indicating she was mulling over it. "We can. But I was thinking of something not related to nature. Something accessible to all of us."

The room suddenly roared as some suggestions such as 'arcade', 'carnival', 'movies' were thrown into the air. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was interested in the last one.

"The movies," Jungkook whispered to Y/n.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgement. "I think so, too."

"Guys," Y/n spoke out loud. The room fell silent. "What if we go to the movies? I think I heard some of you guys want to go to the movies."

A series of cheers and 'yeah's could be heard.

"When though?" a girl whose name Jungkook didn't know asked.

"What about this weekend? For those who can't come, we'll send hampers. That way, it'll be fair for everyone," Y/n suggested.

Jungkook felt like his head could float anytime as he heard Y/n leading the club. Y/n was such a natural leader and he cherished every moment he could see her in action. No doubt the members also felt the same. Felt the adoration and belonging in the group since Y/n always put the group first before herself. Never left out a member for whatever reason. And Jungkook was the luckiest man to be able to call Y/n his.

"Jungkook." Y/n's familiar voice woke Jungkook from his daydream.

"Yeah?" Jungkook's eyes focused on Y/n's.

"Can you come? Seyeon wants to list those who can and can't come."

"Of course I'll come. Do you need a ride? I can pick you up."

"I'm thinking of going with Seyeon."

Jungkook almost missed the wink and the smirk on Y/n's face, indicating she was just testing his response. He decided to play along.

Jungkook frowned. The corner of his lips were turned downwards. “Why?”

Y/n laughed. “No reason. I just want to hang out with my best friend.”

“You can do that anytime.”

“You know I can’t. We always go out together on weekends.” Amusement was evident on her face.

Then an idea popped into his head. “How about you go there with me, but then you sit through the whole movie with her? Or vice versa?”

“You know you will sit on my other side no matter what. I’ll go there with Seyeon, then on the way home, I’ll go with you.”

“Deal.”

Y/n shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you so adamant on me going with you?”

Jungkook winked. “You’ll see.”

Weekend came faster than Jungkook had anticipated. He wasn’t one to like weekends, because it usually meant Y/n was too busy with her family or friends to go out with him. But this weekend was different, the theater club was hanging out and Jungkook wasn’t excluded. It was safe to say he had high hopes for this weekend. He just needed to find the right timing.

Throughout the entire movie, Jungkook couldn't focus. Y/n today absolutely looked stunning, like she was dressing to impress and Jungkook was her target. If that was indeed her goal, Jungkook had to admit she was successful. So Jungkook did what he had so long refrained from doing.

In a very casual way, or at least he was trying to, Jungkook pretended to stretch his left arm out across Y/n's seat and landed it on her backrest. His slender fingers twirled on Y/n's stray hair.

Seemingly feeling something, or rather someone, had touched her hair, Y/n whacked her hand around her neck which in turn smacked on Jungkook’s hand. Lucky him, the sound of the movie was loud enough to drown the sound of their hands smacking against each other. Jungkook pulled his hand from around Y/n’s shoulder.

“Jungkook!” Y/n hissed. “Stop it.”

“I’m bored. Let’s do something else.”

“No. Stay put.”

“No. Let’s go. I have something cool to show you. I’ll walk out in a bit, and you follow me next.”

“Why should I?”

“Just do it. Tell Seyeon you’re not feeling good or something.”

"What? No!" Y/n pushed lightly on Jungkook's arm. "Just go. I'll make an excuse."

Outside of the theater building, Jungkook leaned on a pillar with his jacket in one hand and his car key in the other. He eyed the couple walking into the building, the boy's arm slung comfortably around the girl's shoulder, quite similar to what Jungkook was trying to do just moments ago.

"Okay. What now?" Y/n's voice made him avert his gaze away from them and towards his own girlfriend.

Jungkook reached for Y/n's hand and linked their hands together. "Let's go inside my car."

"Why?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "You've been super suspicious today. I don't want to do something we'll regret."

"You won't regret it, I promise." Jungkook began to pull on Y/n's hand which made her reluctantly follow him.

"What is it, then?" Y/n closed the car door once she was seated inside.

Without needing to answer with words, Jungkook leaned in and touched Y/n's lips with his own.

Y/n's lips were much softer than Jungkook had imagined. He thought it would feel more like a cushion, but instead it was closer to a marshmallow. Plump but soft with a hint of strawberry flavor from her lip balm.

At first Y/n was taken aback. Her eyes wide and lips parted, unmoving. Her eyes met with his awkwardly which made him take a hold of her hand and squeezed it gently, signaling her to not be nervous. Telling her wordlessly to enjoy it.

Y/n slowly closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. Her lips started to move in response to his, dancing unchoreographed moves.

Despite the lack of experience, a sense of longing and wanting washed over Jungkook. He didn't want to stop. He wanted time to stay still. But of course that didn't happen.

Y/n pulled slowly from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their lips for a slight moment.

With hazy eyes, Y/n said breathlessly, "So that's what you want to show me."

Jungkook nodded. The feel of Y/n's lips still lingered on his. "I've been wanting to do that with you for the longest time." Jungkook touched his lips where Y/n's were just seconds ago, his lips slightly numb from the kiss. "It feels better than what I imagined."

Y/n hummed and leaned back on her seat. Her eyes closed, as if she was trying to preserve the moment and the feeling.

Jungkook couldn't deny that Y/n looked absolutely irresistible. Her half up hair showed a bit of her neck, the collar of her shirt low enough for him to catch a glimpse of her chest. Y/n wore a different perfume that Jungkook liked even more, one that smelled floral instead of the aquatic one that Y/n often wore. He was definitely sure Y/n was trying to impress her.

And as easy as that, he blurted out, "I love you."

For a split moment, he thought Y/n didn't hear him. Maybe she had already fallen asleep, maybe she was too deep in her own thoughts. But then, Y/n opened her mouth. As faint as the sound of the night wind, but clearer than the sky on a sunny day, he could hear her say, "I love you, too."

Part 9: The Desperation

The past few days had been hard on Jungkook, and he could bet all his fortunes that it was significantly harder for Y/n. Y/n’s condition had deteriorated far worse in the last couple of days compared to all the years she spent in and out of the hospital. Her condition fluctuated so rapidly that it was hard for Jungkook to be sure when she was okay and when she was almost literally on her deathbed.

One day, Y/n still could sit up on her bed, of course with the help of Jungkook, and also Jinho sometimes. But the next day, Y/n screamed and trashed on her bed, hand gripped on Jungkook's arm for dear life, it looked like the grim reaper himself was sucking her life out of her.

Some days Y/n could ramble on and on about her hobby of acting, about how she still had a lot to experience in life, about how she hoped she could be cured and go on adventures again with Jungkook. Some days she couldn't even recognize him, claiming that he was too young to be her husband, saying that he could be her grandson with how young he was, then proceeding to cry because she had lost his son too early.

One day Y/n still could joke around with Jungkook and Jinho and the next she was unresponsive, not even when Jungkook pinched her so hard it left a bluish bruise on her arm. And with each passing day, as her condition got more and more unstable, Jungkook grew more and more desperate. It felt like any day could be her last day. So on one of the good days, Jungkook pulled Jinho outside the lab to have a chat.

"I think we need to start the transfer," Jungkook blurted out.

"What? Why? You know what should happen before that, right?"

Jungkook nodded. "I've calculated everything. Today her condition is a bit better, I think I can coerce her into agreeing to this."

Jinho's eyes went wide. "But it'll cost her life!"

"That'll be moved to her new body," Jungkook pointed out.

It felt like a year when it actually was just a few seconds before Jinho said, "I'll go prepare her new body. You can start the euthanasia once she's ready."

Upon hearing Jinho's answer, Jungkook walked back into the lab and went straight to Y/n. Just like during all of her good days, she usually just sat in front of the TV and watched any movie Jungkook deemed good to watch. She probably would want to be able to pick her own movies to watch, but lately her fingers were too stiff to be able to operate the remote control and ended up let Jungkook help her with whatever she needed.

Jungkook took a seat beside Y/n and brushed his hand through her white hair. "Baby, I want to talk about something." He reached for the remote and paused the movie.

"What is it?" Y/n's eyes focused on him.

Jungkook decided to drop the bomb although how she looked at him made his heart quench. "Your health has been getting worse and worse, I think we need to start the mind-transfer."

Y/n nodded. "Just do whatever you need to do. I trust you."

"Really?"

"I trust you. I have to admit I don't understand anything about your technology and I'm kind of scared, but I trust you." Y/n took Jungkook's hand and held it on her lap.

"Y/n."

"Yes?"

Jungkook's vision blurred from his own tears. "I love you so much you have no idea."

"Why are you crying?" Y/n, always sweet as ever, wiped his tears with the pad of her thumb. Her movement wasn't precise, she almost poked him in the eye, but at least she caught some tears. "I love you, too."

"I just can't imagine how much you are in pain right now. I'll do everything I can to make you feel better."

"I know."

"But I'll have to perform euthanasia on you. Only after that I can transfer your soul and mind to your new body."

"It's okay. How long will the process be?"

"I-"

Jinho cut him off. "After the euthanasia, your mind will be transferred right away. The process took less than 12 hours last time."

"It'll feel like you're falling asleep. Zero pain," Jungkook added.

"I'll go get the machine started. The medicine is ready." Jinho walked back to his workstation behind the many computers.

"Let's go back to your bed, shall we?" Jungkook helped Y/n stand up from the couch.

Once Y/n laid down on the bed, Jungkook made sure she was feeling comfortable.

"How are you feeling?" Jungkook grasped her hand in his.

"Nervous."

Jungkook turned his head towards Jinho. "Vitals?"

"All good. Only the heartbeat is slowing down from the last few days, but we'll make it work."

Jungkook looked back at his lover. "You'll be fine. We'll be just like we were during our youth."

A small smile creeped up on her face. "Yeah. Let's meet again in a better condition."

Jungkook pecked Y/n one last time on her old body. "Of course. See you."

"See you."

With that, Jungkook released the medicine straight into her IV bag, waiting for it to slowly enter her bloodstream.

"This should work," Jungkook mumbled to himself as he saw Y/n slowly closing her eyes and falling to her eternal sleep.

Part 10: The Fight

It was a very nice place. It cost Jungkook a lot of his fortune just to book a table for two. The ambient light played with the shimmer on Y/n's dark blue dress, making it sparkle like ripples on a deep lake during a full moon. Jazz music was played by a band on the small stage in the middle of the restaurant. It was perfect.

"How did you know this place anyways?" Y/n's asked, her hands busy with the cutleries to cut her steak.

Jungkook shrugged. He tried to be nonchalant, hiding the fact that he was actively looking for a luxurious restaurant just days ago. "Saw the ads on social media."

"I bet it's very expensive."

His wallet felt bulkier in his pocket. "Yeah, but I'd do anything to make you happy."

Y/n gleefully smiled. "I know. Thanks a lot for this. Work has been stressing me out these days."

"Oh, yeah?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes sparkled under the dim light. "You can't believe it when I say some of our samples got leaked. Luckily the samples aren't dangerous, but we still needed to take precautions." She continued with her rambles of what steps she took to fix the problem, seemingly already having forgotten about the steak in front of her.

Jungkook knew secondhand how hard it was for Y/n to build her own career. Although she was one of the smartest people he knew, it was a well known fact that the bioengineering field was a competitive one. And Y/n wasn't susceptible.

She ended up working for a local branch of a big multimillion company as an intern. The pay wasn't big, it was barely enough for her daily necessities with all luxury left behind. Meanwhile, Jungkook had found himself working as his own father's right hand. Although his father's company wasn't as big, his position made him get paid significantly more than Y/n.

Jungkook had said one day, "Just quit your job. I can provide for you."

But Y/n had been stubborn as she always was. "It's Syntegra. A company where people can only dream of working at. I'm not going anywhere."

Luckily, she had been right with her choice. Her perseverance and determination soon paid off as she climbed up the corporate ladder. Her 1-year internship ended with her finally being hired as a full-time staff member. And after that, her career only soared higher and higher.

Y/n became a supervisor after working full-time for 6 months and became a manager after another 6. Not long after, the position for branch manager opened up as the old one retired. It was wise to pick Y/n to take over the spot. And of course as the branch manager, the highest position in said local branch, she had responsibilities beyond her own experience.

It was an understatement to say that Jungkook was proud of her. After all, Jungkook had seen secondhand Y/n working long hours even before she got accepted as a full-time staff member. He had seen Y/n sacrificing her free time, even her weekends, to continue her studies since branch managers at Syntegra needed to have a master's degree. But it also wasn't hard to deny that Jungkook missed her. He missed the sleepless nights they spent together. He missed going to the movies together. He missed having dinner together. He had hoped that tonight would finally be different. That tonight they could focus on them. But Jungkook could only hope.

"Shoot!" Y/n's profanity woke Jungkook from his daydream. Y/n typed rapidly to her phone which dinged endlessly.

Jungkook noticed the lines on Y/n's forehead. Something wrong must have happened. "What's wrong?"

"I need to get back to the office," Y/n replied without ever looking up from her phone.

"It's Sunday. Tomorrow morning you'll be there."

"Yes. I know. But apparently there's a virus that attacked one of the servers and messed up our systems."

Jungkook cringed. "That sounds bad."

"It is." Y/n finally looked up from her phone. With pleading eyes, she continued, "Can you please drop me off at Syntegra?"

Jungkook felt his heart sink. He couldn't believe his ears. He didn't want to accept that his date had to end so soon. He didn't even get to finish his steak!

Just as he was about to refuse her, another emotion bubbled inside him. It was hot, it made him sweat in the cold air conditioned room. It was dizzying, making him unable to think straight. But above all, it was intense. A force to be reckoned with.

And amidst that bubbling emotion, he said something he would regret. "You have no time for me anymore."

Y/n dropped her shoulders as she stared at Jungkook pleadingly. "Please, I don't have time for this. If you can't drop me there, I can go there myself."

As she was about to stand up from her seat, Jungkook reached out and grabbed her hand, ultimately stopping her from walking off. "I'll go pay, you wait outside." If he wanted to let his ego win, he had to find the perfect timing.

The entire car ride to Syntegra was only filled with deafening silence. Jungkook didn't dare to speak a single word as Y/n emitting an intimidating aura. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Y/n was clutching her purse. Her face tense and jaw clenched. Her eyes stared at the road ahead, but made no comment even when someone was jaywalking in front of the car. And when the car pulled up in front of the main entrance, Y/n only stepped off silently.

Y/n was about to slam the car door shut when Jungkook dared himself to speak. "Baby, I'll wait here, yeah? Take your time."

He could bet all of his fortunes that he saw Y/n pull a tight smile before closing the door.

It was only an hour later that Y/n came back to the car. Her sparkly dress was replaced by a t-shirt and her heels by a flip flop. Jungkook was about to make a comment about that when Y/n beat him to it. "I have spare clothes and sandals for these types of occasions."

Y/n turned her body facing Jungkook. "So you were saying at the restaurant? That I have no time for you anymore?" Her tone stern as if she was talking to her subordinate or a child instead of her boyfriend.

Honestly speaking, Jungkook himself had already forgotten about that. His mind was still fixated on the TikTok video he just watched right before Y/n stepped into the car.

"You should think yourself lucky that you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth. No need to worry about making money or career for yourself," Y/n rambled even when Jungkook just quietly started the car engine and drove out the building.

Jungkook couldn't lie that Y/n's rambles eventually got to him. "Out of all the weekends and the holidays we could've spent together, you instead preferred to be stuck at work. I've prepared countless dates and dinners and vacations, yet all of them fell through. We didn't even get to fully enjoy today's dinner!"

"Oh, yeah? This is exactly what I mean. You never have to worry about bills and rent. Never have to think about saving for the future. You already have everything! The least you can do is let me be."

"I can provide you!" Jungkook realized he just half-yelled to the girl he loved. "I was meaning to take our relationship to the next stage. But of course, your work always gets in the way."

"Arrgh," Y/n yelled. "I don't want to just rely on you! Why don't you get it? Sure it's easy to just let you pay for everything. But does that make me feel any better? No!"

Jungkook snorted. "You and your ego. You should maybe sort that out instead of your money situation."

"And you with your savior complex. You know what? Let's take a break. I don't want this anymore." Y/n clutched her purse. "Drop me off here."

"Are you crazy?" Jungkook didn't slow down the car. "We're in the middle of the road! I'm dropping you home. And then you should think about your decision."

The rest of the car ride felt freezing cold. But true to his words, Jungkook dropped Y/n off at her house. Wordlessly, Y/n stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut without taking a glance both at the car and him. Jungkook watched and waited as Y/n stormed inside her house. And once he was sure she was already safe inside her house, he left. Maybe this was for the best, but honestly speaking, his chest tightened and tears threatened to fall.

[Taglist]

@lyoongx @jjddk @babeejeon @thehopelessromanticclub @okvmv @rg2108 @idkhieveryoneig @misshale21 @dna-black-and-blue @chimggukk @lovingkoalaface @yok00k @bamieeee03 @ihatesnakeu7 @lovelyyylunaa222 @134340-kr @cherricherry @jeonzll @loomipee @haru-jiminn @kissforyouu

[runa-falls]

friendly favors

pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader

w/c: ~750

c/w: suggestive content (18+)

a/n: SCREAMING this into the void (YEA I KNOW I HAVE WIPS BUT FUCK IT)

part two | part three

---

the arrangement started when you noticed how stiff he was next to you as you watched a movie. even though his eyes were locked onto the screen, you could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

his leg bounced nervously when you looked over at him. he thought you wouldn't notice his embarrassing hardness under your shared blanket, but he was so desperate that his bulge was quite obvious, even with the extra layer.

it was the film that made him like that.

as your pick for the week, you chose a particularly adult film compared to the usual sci-fi/fantasy marathons you've been having. so far, there's been at least 3 make out scenes and 2 sex scenes.

steven's been counting.

usually, he would be fine.

if the actors didn't have insane chemistry that could convince the audience that they're really in love and obsessed with each other, he wouldn't be in this position.

unfortunately, that extra touch of genuineness turns him on to an unbelievable degree.

he couldn't even stand up and excuse himself the first time they kissed because he was already harder than he'd ever been in his life.

then there was you, sitting right next to him, smelling as lovely as always, dressed in comfy clothes that make him delirious. and then there's the way you look at him, speaking to him like he's a sleepy puppy. like a fragile thing for you to take care of.

"you want some help?" he freezes at the soft sound of your voice.

the movie was turned down low (to placate the neighbors) so he couldn't just ignore you and pretend like you didn't say something. you sound so sweet like you're offering to fold his laundry out of the goodness of your heart.

"help...? with what?" his eyes avoid yours as his hands attempt to pull a throw pillow over his lap. you gently slip it out of his hand with a soft smile and plop it on the carpeted floor.

"you seem a bit stressed, steven." you sound breathy as you take in his flushed appearance, appreciating his disheveled curls and shy glances. "let me help you relax, honey."

"i dunno...what you're talking about." he continues to play dumb, too mortified that this conversation is happening, but he can't avoid it once you peel the blanket off of both of you.

"this." his breathing quickens rapidly as your hand smooths over his thigh and palms over the tent of his pants.

"oh..." you squeeze and he loses his sight for a second. "...that" he barely wheezes out.

---

you're best friends with steven -- and you have been for a while. as a long-time tour guide, you took him under your wing when he started to train at the museum (he got a promotion!) and it wasn't long before he happily let you invade his life outside of work too.

now you have weekly movie nights, alternating lunch 'dates' (if he shows up to work), and daily 'friendly favors', or hook ups if you want to be brash (again, if he decides to show up).

you spend so much time with him, you really don't understand why he doesn't get the hint and just ask you out already!

you're know he can be naive, but you're still surprised that he truly believes you're loving on him as a friend. he's so hesitant, like you'd refuse him if he tried to kiss you or hold you close, even though you've shown him time and again that you crave his touch and affection.

you can tell he really appreciates your help though, always being gentle when he uses your mouth and throat, and cleaning you up when he's done. he makes sure to tell you when he's about to cum, not wanting to make a mess, though you'd love it if he would.

at the end he always says "thank you" like the polite boy he is as if you're doing him a favor, when really, you're being quite selfish, taking everything he gives you with hidden desires and intentions. then he steps away from you with a blush, zips himself back into his pants, and pretends like he wasn't just whining and begging for your tongue.

today is different though.

today, you weren't the one to make the first move.

steven was.

"love. could we--instead of you helping me...i was wondering if i could use my mouth on you."

"me?"

"if you don't want to--"

"no! i-i...let's try it out."

--

ok, this literally isn't my fault. i've been seeing steven posts/edits/fics/ideas BLASTED on my dashboard. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO IF NOT WRITE SOMETHING INDULGENT 😭

[gardengnosticator]

Affogato.

reader x ellie williams x abby anderson. SUMMARY: Ellie Williams is a perfect girlfriend. Adorable, clingy and just so fucking cute. Her only baggage is her asshole of a coworker, Abby Anderson. The way she sneers, the way she glares, the daggers she shoots you when you meet up with Ellie at the end of her shifts. She's such a bitch. You wonder why Ellie puts up with her... WARNINGS: dubious consent, intense sub/dom dynamics, dirty talk, mean!abby, dom!abby, loser!ellie, pathetic!ellie, unabashed smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT)

It had only been six months since you and Ellie started dating, and what a six months it had been That dry, detached aloofness Ellie carried would melt away as soon as the two of you returned to your shared flat and she would immediately turn into the most clingy thing since side of a koala. The way Ellie snuggled her head into your chest as the two of you lay on the couch with one of her many incredibly lame, incredibly dorky sci-fi classics (though you had doubts “Martian Babes Need Earth’s Mothers” counts as a classic… ) humming in the background. 

Your hand lazily finding a way to graze through those soft auburn locks, Ellie’s green eyes darting up to you in the most unguarded and intimate of ways as your hand found itself snaking southwards, over the defined arches of her back and just daring to toy with the waistband of her boxer shorts and soon the sounds of 50s hamfisted overacting were muffled with Ellie’s nigh pornographic moans and whines as your fingers worked their way up and down against of her soaked folds, her poor hips trembling and rolling, desperate to match every single thrust of your wrist as she sought out that final release to the knot building in her stomach. 

This was a side of Ellie you and only you were privy to. The way her lips curled upwards as she snorts at one of Dina’s patented bad jokes reminding you of the way they contort and smear themselves with your slick as Ellie buried her head between your thighs. The jittery way her fingers clasped her pen, her brows furrowed as she listened to one of her recorded lectures over the laptop reminding you of the times she took charge, had you against the wall cheek first as she whispered the most lurid things in your ear, barely audible over the sound of your own cunt squelching around Ellie’s digits. The way the muscles in her forearm flexed clenching a beer bottle, that adoration of her inked branch moving in time making you bite your bottom lip and cross your legs before Ellie would look over at you, the bass of whatever terrible dubstep anthem Jessie has decided to force upon the party going populace meaning nothing as the two of you make a quick exit for the bathroom. 

At times you almost took it for granted, that you were the only person in the world right now who would see the true extent of Ellie’s emotions and wants and needs. Well… you and that bitch Abigail Anderson. One of Ellie’s coworkers at the terrible, overpriced campus cafe that took up too many hours of Ellie's time for your liking. She cut a very domineering figure from behind the counter, arms seemingly bursting out of her plain black top and those broad shoulders so perfectly framed with her apron, and that damned French braid dangling down the middle of that wide back. It was infuriating how attractive she could be, had she not revealed herself to be the most rude and arrogant coworker your poor girlfriend would be forced to deal with. 

Every time you visited Ellie on her break or when your classes let up it would be a whirlwind of how Abby had told her off for this, chastised her for that, admonished her for not smiling hard enough when serving some apparent regular their whipped cream adorned monstrosity of caffeinated sugar syrup. The way Ellie would talk your ear off about how Abby would treat her to nothing but rolled eyes and casual shouldering out of the way made you hate the woman with every syllable from the poor girl’s lips. You could really tell that this was doing her head in, so you made sure every day after picking Ellie up from work you’d lead her back home, push her head down into your shared mattress, her jeans pulled down to her ankles and her boxers just barely down enough so you could gorge yourself on the taste of her heat, a day’s worth of sweat and tension relieving itself onto your face as Ellie sobbed and moaned and begged for more as she fucked her hips back into your hungry lips and tongue. 

But today… it was different. Your last class of the day had run late, your miserable bastard of a professor deciding that today was the best day to keep everyone behind so he could go back over the course material for this semester that you had already plotted out and carefully crafted the perfect study timeline for but as the high achiever of the class (and all your classes for that matter) you did your best to grin and bare it and let your classmates fill the lengthening air with their meandering questions. All you could think of was Ellie, your Ellie, the Ellie waiting for you to come visit her, grab her by the hands and plant a hungry kiss to her lips before she could even breathe a “Hi” in your direction. 

The split second this agonizing Q&A ended you had your bag over your shoulder and your head in the clouds as you rushed through the halls of your college’s main building to all but sprint across the grounds and towards the cafe. Its withering facade bearing the name of the overpriced spot, “How you BEAN?”, a pun that was entirely the reason Ellie ever put forth an application to work there. The lights were dimmed, the chairs empty and the usual assortment of sleep deprived students were not humming about the front counter which perked your brow, or at least it did until you saw the hastily scrawled note taped to the front door. 

“Espresso machine busted!!! Closed 4 today!!!” 

You roll your eyes. Ellie’s handiwork you’re sure. The note at least though you’re also sure that Ellie would be telling you how Abby would be blaming her for this equipment malfunction. That poor girl. She must be so worried about you being late. What a sorry excuse of a girlfriend you are. You’ll have to think of something to make it up to Ellie for being this late, even though it wasn’t your fault your mind raced at all the possibilities you could imagine on how you could push that girl to cloud nine. 

“Hello?” 

Your voice rang out in the now silent cafe, bouncing off the walls as you made your way inside, happy that either Ellie or Abby had neglected to lock the front door. Ellie again most likely, unwilling to keep your locked away while she had been waiting for you obviously.

“Hello!” 

You call out again, a little louder this time as the resounding silence your last query had garnered seeming to worry you. Normally Ellie would have bounded from the staff room to all but dive into your arms in a circumstance like this but now… geez… Abby must have done a number on her if she was this distracted right now. The silence was almost deafening until you hear something, something that sounds oh-so familiar but also just outlandish to be occurring in this environment that you can’t really put your finger on.

It was however, emanating softly from the staff room, right behind the front counter you had watched Ellie laze over countless times before and so, with your status as girlfriend to an employee you viewed the staff room as open to you as it would be to Ellie and so being the brave girl you are you creep forward, stepping around the counter and beginning to pick up more of the previously imperceptible sounds coming from that back room. 

Huffing. Puffing. Muffled whining and a sturdy, cocky voice muttering what you could most definitely make out as grunting “Shut up… you want her to hear you…” coming from that barely perceptible crack in the door. Your bottom lip was a wreck at this point, your teeth attempting to chew through the damn thing as a familiar warmth filled your loins and a shaky, uncomfortable knot formed in your gut. Both your hands clenched the strap of your bag as you quietly made your way closer and closer to the door, the mental image of what was happening behind it causing your pulse to quicken, your mind to race and a good amount of your organs to attempt to crawl up and out your throat as you lean in close press your eye to the slit between door and frame. 

You swore your heart was beating so hard and so loud it was on the verge of popping a blood vessel but right now that didn’t matter, it didn’t matter because what you saw was your girlfriend, Ellie Williams, doubled over, her hands bound in some makeshift restraint made out of her apron’s shoulder straps, uniform shirt pulled high and bra all but torn so her perked nipples and chest bobbed with the movements of the thick hand that was hungrily grasping at them as if for dear life. Ellie’s jeans had found themselves bunched at her ankles, her Converse sneakers draped in the frayed denim as Ellie’s knees pressed themselves together, almost desperate to force the hand that was riding up between her thighs pumped itself back and forth with a piston-like pace. 

And there, pressed up against Ellie’s back, cruel lips contorted in a perverted smile, her usually immaculate braid hanging ragged over her shoulder, bouncing up and down alongside her greedy, hungry palms was Abby. 

“For all you know, she’s out there waiting for you right now. The good little girlfriend, wondering just where-oh-where her darling, little, Ellie could be. Bet that turns you on, God, listen to how fucking wet you are…” 

The words that slip from Abby’s lips are tainted with a perverse venom you swear you could feel a damp spot begin to grow in your panties, the feeling only intensifying as Ellie’s head collapsed forward, a strangled gasp coming from her throat as saliva pools from those adorably chapped lips. A pathetic, desperate whine slips from Ellie, Abby’s fingers continuing to draw out the most lurid and wet sounds from her cunt as she tries to struggle against the much larger woman.

“I-I’m s-sorry Abby! I d-didn’t mean to talk b-back-God-oh-God!!!” 

Whatever Ellie’s train of thought was, it had been thoroughly derailed as Abby gave two hard thrusts, the way her bicep flexed with the motion caused you to gasp under your breath. Your knees were trembling and it was long since apparent that one of your hands that had been grasping your bag so tightly had found itself hovering just over the waist of your skirt, the tips of your fingers slipping under just enough to cause you to snap back to reality.

But that’s not all that snapped. Abby’s head turns to face the door so fast you’d assume she’d get whiplash but all that greets you through that crack is just that patented, maddening Anderson smirk. With all the ease her physique granted her, Abby made easy work of hefting Ellie up from her bent position, spinning her around to stare at the door with those down turned, fuck-drunk eyes you swore only you could draw out of her. 

“I think we have some company Ellie.” 

The way Abby’s voice takes on a sickly sing-song tone is almost as horrible as the sight of her hand forcing Ellie’s legs apart, her bound arms desperately trying to pry Abby off to no avail as two of Abby’s fingers came to draw agonizing figure-eights on Ellie’s throbbing clit. 

“And I think, you know who it is. Go on, give her a good show now, I get so tired of seeing you two eye-fuck each other whenever she comes in to visit.” 

You want to burst the door down, you want to holler and scream and pull Ellie out of Abby’s grip and tell her to fuck off straight to Hell but instead you find yourself mimicking Abby’s actions. Your fingers having finally given up the fight and slipped right under your skirt, most definitely stretching the whole thing to bits but right now you couldn’t care. All you could do was drag the pad of your middle fingers right over your panties, feeling your soaked folds through the thin fabric as you let out a gasp at the intense burning pressure coming from your crotch as you watched your girlfriend grind and rut against another woman’s palm like a bitch in heat.

“Bet you act all high and fucking mighty once you clock out, go home to her and whine about mean ol’ Abby huh? Bet you don’t fucking tell her what a goddamn fucking irritating little shit you are. Fucking up orders, forgetting to clean out the filter, grinding Colombian beans into the same jar as the Ecuadorian blend.”

Each of Abby’s taunts were punctuated by a harsh slap right onto Ellie’s reddening, drooling cunt. The sound was damp and Ellie couldn’t hold back her squeals, eyes clamping shut tight as she squirmed her back against Abby’s chest. You gasped again, a digit slowly making its way forth and pushing up and inside of you as you watched Ellie’s chest rise and fall and bounce in such a pornographic manner you find yourself riding your finger to the exact same rhythm.

Abby lets out an animalistic grunt, her rough slaps finally morphing into what Ellie and you were so desperate for, two thick digits working their way into Ellie’s quivering hole, stretching her with no remorse or hint or restraint. Ellie’s moan is silent, her mouth and face twisting with a mixture of shame and pleasure as she once again felt that calloused roughness of Abby’s fingers inside of her. And there you were, fucking yourself stupid to this depraved act, the gushing wetness from your cunt smearing itself over your thighs as you worked your finger in and out of you, lungs on fire as you panted Ellie’s name under your breath. 

“That’s your fucking problem, Williams. You’re such a fucking little brat, always lovesick and distracted by your girl. You need a proper breaking in for all the trouble you give me here. All that helplessness and staring into space isn’t cute and neither is giving me lip and thinking I won’t teach you a goddamn-fucking-lesson about personal accountability.” 

Tears swelled at the corners of Ellie’s eyes and you wished so desperately that you had the guts to push forward and drag your tongue over her cheeks to lick them up but all you could do was shamelessly continue to fuck yourself, your hips growing more and more erratic, bouncing their way to meet your knuckle with each thrust making a most delicious squelch as you made a mess of the floor below you. 

A similar fate was befalling Ellie right now, her thighs so perfectly draped with her juices that you made you squirm and moan and clench around your finger as you watched it shimmer over her trembling thighs.

“I-I-I-I’ll be good, A-Abby please! G-God please just lemme c-cum, please, ‘m gonna explode…” 

For a second you could swear Ellie’s glance, her glazed over eyes that were constantly on the verge of rolling right back into her skull made contact with yours. Through that minor little gap the two of you glanced at one another and the wave of arousal and guilt coursed through both your veins but that was quickly drowned out as Abby made another move.

Another finger, three at once now, Ellie’s poor cunt stretched beyond the limits of your favorite strap now (the darling little pink thing that you’d have her bounce on while you watched that adorable bun of hair of hers bob up and down alongside her hips).  Abby was ruining her, free hand relenting from gripping Ellie’s hips to grab at her cheeks, squishing them and turning Ellie’s lips into the most pathetic display of forced duck face you could imagine but God… it was so hot.

The way her dark green eyes could barely stay open, drool and snot and tears so perfectly staining that usually adorable face twisting and groaning under the pressure of Abby’s vice-like grip. You press your body as forward as it dare reach, unwilling to finally relent and push the door and fall into the sweat and sex drenched room the two woman were currently defiling. No all you wanted to do was ride through your own orgasm, curl your finger into itself and press right into that perfect little spot that sends a million volts of electricity straight from your brain to your cunt as you watched Ellie lose herself in ecstasy.

Abby’s fingers had slowed at this point, but the decrease in speed only meant an increase in sheer thrust force as you watched those slick-coated digits drive themselves knuckle deep with each heartless flick of that thick wrist of hers. 

“She’s watching you Ellie, watching you leak all over the floor like the pathetic, little, loser you are and I know she’s enjoying it. So let me make this clear to you, and her, if you’re gonna fuck around and not take this seriously I’ll be your guiding hand.” 

It’s sick, it’s so sick that your orgasm is right on the tip of your lips (not the ones on your face), your finger frantic and everything but the intense drive to ride this high has escaped your mind. It seems the same is perfectly true for Ellie, you can tell when she’s close, when her toned core ripples as her breathing gets more and more ragged and desperate, as her hips violently buck like a wild Mustang, competing with Abby’s fingers to ride out her own orgasm. 

The wet slapping sounds of Abby’s knuckles colliding with Ellie’s puffy cunt ring loud and true and you whine like a bitch in heat at how much of your girlfriend’s slick is going to waste on the floor and thighs as opposed to being divinely poured down your greedy throat. But it was apparent that meant nothing to Abby, nothing but ruthlessly driving your poor girlfriend over the edge, leaving her battered and bruised and totally fuck-drunk on her fingers. 

With a sneer and a gaze that was seemingly dead-set on piercing through the door and reaching into your very soul, Abby angled her head forward, the grip she held on Ellie’s cheeks being used to tilt her backwards until she aggressively invaded Ellie’s slack-jawed mouth with her tongue. It looked swollen and fat and instantly you feel yourself pant and groan and gasp as Ellie begins to kiss Abby right back. It’s too much. 

For you. For Ellie. 

You bite down on your bottom lip so fucking hard you think you might have actually torn it off as your legs give out and your body grows weary, white blots forming in your eyes and your mind draining itself of any coherent thought as the most violent orgasm you’ve ever experienced rocked through your body. It quite literally dropped you to your knees with a loud groan. 

A similar fate is what Ellie endured through she doesn’t have a chance to vocalize just how hard Abby has pushed her over the edge due to fact the Anderson’s tongue was buried seemingly right down her esophagus but that doesn’t stop her from looking so utterly pathetic and drained as her body vibrates in Abby’s grasp. She squirts. Ellie honest to God squirts right there, on the staff room floor, around the fingers of the same, in her words, grade-A-bitch who had been reaming her for mixing up cup sizes just two days ago. 

Abby works Ellie over for good measure, those fat fingers of hers getting the last few ounces of your girlfriend’s juices spilled before she lets go and Ellie collapses onto the ground, curling in on herself as she whimpers in the bliss of her orgasm. Bliss is maybe a stretch. Ellie looks like she’s gone ten rounds with Godzilla the way she’s panting and drooling and hips still trembling and writhing as if the sensation of Abby’s fingers violating her gaping, clenching cunt hadn’t left her. 

Abby stood tall and proud, leering down at Ellie’s still trembling body as she raised her hand to her face, tongue slithering forward to drag itself up and down over those slick coated digits. You could only barely make out the lurid expression of glee on her lips as they suckled down Ellie’s juices. Before you could catch your breath, before you could even get the strength back in your arm to relieve your finger from inside of you, Abby Anderson strolls, not walks, but strolls forward, prying the door open and revealing your debauchery. 

You glance down to Ellie, who has only just gotten enough wherewithal to shift up from her prone position, her head hanging weakly as she offered you a fractured smile, pale cheeks still heavily reddened with her blush and from Abby’s harsh grip. 

“Clean your girlfriend up. She’s helping me open tomorrow morning.” 

With as little care as one would have for a bug beneath their heel, Abby slips her apron up and off her shoulders and drapes it over your head, leaving both you and Ellie in the dust, to mop up your tears, spit and slick from the floor in her wake. 

After what seems like eons, you crawl your way to Ellie, unbinding her hands and allowing her head to lazily rest in your stained lap. Those big doe eyes flutter up at you as you stare down at her, a shaky hand snaking into her hair as both of you began to return to a normal breathing pattern. 

“H-Hope she goes easy on me tomorrow…” 

Ellie lets out a forlorn sigh, turning into you, burying her head into your chest and you can tell she can hear how hard your heart is still beating.

“If she doesn’t… I hope she lets me watch…” 

Is all you can think. 

[moonchild9350]

Lavender Fields-Chapter Six: Sadness

Summary: the days are long without Hyunjin as you feel immense sadness.

Pairing: Hyunjin x humanoid!gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, sci fi au, romance au

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mention of being drugged, mention of abuse

Notes: bare with me as we endure yet another angsty chapter, the ending is worth it though ;)

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment at it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work without my permissions. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

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It has been months since the accident and since you’ve last seen…you don’t even want to think or mention his name.

You were moved to a different facility, one that seems more isolated. You haven’t seen your peers in what feels like ages, the only interaction being the orderly who brings you food and Raoul.

You’re used to the routine now but that doesn’t make it any easier, especially your sessions. What used to seem informational and even educational now seems jumbled and purposeless.

Every day you return to your room defeated, your shoulders slumped over, your eyes downcast. You feel a heaviness in your chest, one that hasn’t gone away since the accident.

You spend your free time curled in a ball, hugging your knees to your chest as you breathe and stare at the wall with tears steadily streaming down your face. You’re not sure what this feeling is, no one being there to help you through it and explain what is going on.

All you know is you want to be happy with that warm feeling you felt months ago, where you had energy and you felt content.

Another session has ended and you are back in your room. You assume position, your body automatically folding in on itself. You’re staring at the wall when the door opens and Raoul comes in with an orderly.

You don’t look, opting to ignore his presence. However, you are startled as he walks over and roughly sits you up. You stare at him with wide eyes, your lip trembling as you cower away from him.

“Don’t be afraid,” he sneers as he motions for the orderly to come over.

The phrase should comfort you, but you feel the opposite, your heart speeding up, pounding so hard it feels as if it will jump out of your chest.

“What are you doing?” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm as if to hold it still.

You twist and turn, your arm stinging as it moves within his grasp. You watch as the orderly presents a syringe filled with some liquid and brings it to your arm.

“No, what’s going on!” You say a little louder, not quite screaming.

The orderly looks at you with pity and injects the liquid into your arm. You wince at the needle piercing your skin, closing your eyes as whatever it is spreads throughout your body.

Raoul lets go of your arm once the orderly is done and starts to walk away. They both exit, leaving you alone, stunned at what just happened. You looked at your arm, noticing a little speck of blood where the needle entered your skin.

You’re not sure what they just injected in you. You don’t feel any different than you did before they came in.

You lay back down and curl up, willing your heart to slow down. You don’t have time long enough to lay there however as the door opens again and two more people walk in.

They grab you and escort you out and into the hall. You typically aren’t out this late and you’re fearful of what’s to come.

You approach a door and are ushered inside and placed on a metal table that takes the place of a makeshift chair. They lay you down and turn the lights down. You look around the room, your eyes trying to adjust to how dim the area is. It's pretty bare except for a machine on either side of the table, that is emitting a soft hum.

No one explains what is going on, so you lay there, eyes darting to and fro as you shake. Loud noises fill the room, the sound seeming to come from the machines on either side of you. You let out a yelp and close your eyes, hoping the loud sounds end soon. Despite this, nobody comes into the room, but instead you are left alone as a grinding sound echos loud and louder which each passing moment.

You lay there for what seems like a long time until someone comes to grab you, helping you off the table. They don’t say a word but ushers you back into the corridor as they take you back to your room.

Arriving at your door, they key you in and push you forward, slamming the door behind you. You’re not sure what just happened, but at least you’re back in the safety of your room.

You change into your sleep shirt and crawl into bed, curling up in a small ball. You let the tears fall as you lay confused and…and…and what? You clutch your blanket in frustration, wishing someone would just tell you what is going on.

That night you let your mind wander. You let it drift to him, to Hyunjin. You long to see him and to listen to his gentle voice. You want to be near him as you felt comfortable and safe.

You’d give anything just to see him again.

Your eyes droop as tears fall staining your cheeks as you drift off to sleep, the thought of Hyunjin being your lullaby. And you dream of images of Hyunjin staring into your eyes, holding you close, telling you everything is going to be okay, and talking to you.

“Y/n!”

The dream is so real. It’s like you can hear him softly calling out your name. You sigh and wish to hear his voice again and you burrow deeper into the blankets.

“Y/n, wake up!”

There it is again. Now you’re being taunted, your brain tricking you, teasing you. But what if you do open your eyes and he’s there, waiting for you to wake up? That’s not possible since he’s gone, has been for months.

But what if…?

You slowly open your eyes, blinking the sleep away as you take notice of a form next to you. You sit up startled, as you scramble to the corner, terror written all over your face.

It takes a moment as your eyes adjust, as you finally take in the figure that is sitting on the edge of your bed.

You squint and you see Hyunjin looking at you in concern, his hands held up as if in a peace offering.

‘It’s just me y/n, shhh…it’s okay,” he whispers as he tries to calm you.

You swallow and as you leap toward him, a sound leaves your mouth, almost like a mix of a whine and a yelp. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the soft skin as you breath him in.

Hyunjin chuckles as he holds you close, stroking your back lightly as he rocks you side to side.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says, letting the phrase slide through his lips.

He truly has missed you. Over the last few months, he’s worried about you, wandered how you were doing. He couldn’t get away to come see you, as he was being watched closely, making sure he doesn’t step out of line.

He was able to get away tonight as the guards were off duty, making it easy to get to your ward. He felt something wet on his neck followed by hearing a sniffle. Hyunjin gasped realizing you were crying.

He pulled you away so he could look you in the face, to see if you really were crying. His heart broke as he saw the tears streaming down your face, as your lip jutted out and trembled and you sniffled every now and then.

Hyunjin reached out to wipe away your tears, your eyes never leaving his.

“You’re really here?” You croaked, watching as he wiped your face.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a smile, “don’t be sad, I’m here sweetheart.”

At the nickname, you felt a flutter in your belly. You’ve never been called that but it seemed right, even though you weren’t able to explain why.

“I hope you weren’t sad while I was gone?” Hyunjin inquired as he cocked his eyebrow while looking at you.

Sad, so that’s what you’ve been feeling, yet another emotion, albeit this one you were not fond of. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice as you would just burst out into tears again.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry, so so sorry.”

Hyunjin grasped your hands in his and held them close to his heart. You felt the steady thump, the feeling comforting in its own way.

He didn’t have to ask you, understanding immediately what you’ve been through. He knows that you were most likely subjected to horrible tests, all for the sake of “science.” He does not want you to suffer anymore at the hands of the lab, but what could he do?

He thought of hundred of scenarios to where you could truly be happy, but each one would be a bust if he went through with it. Despite the turmoil within, he was here with you now and he intends to enjoy every moment he can.

“Lay down sweetheart,” he coos as he helps you back in bed.

Once you’re settled, Hyunjin lays next to you, taking you in his arms. He holds you close, his fingers tracing your spine as he listens to you breath in and out.

You both lay in silence, even though your hearts beat loudly, so loud it’s surprising the rapid thumping isn’t echoing throughout the room. You cling to his shirt, as more flutters travel through your body, this time all the way to your pelvis, as you feel something wet and sticky leak out of you.

You gasp at the sensation as you look up into Hyunjin’s eyes as he looks down at you with fondness. In this moment, you feel happy laced with something else that you can’t put a word to.

Hyunjin is here, he’s next to you in your arms. And for the first time in months, you feel as if maybe everything will be okay.

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[moomine]

backwash IV | daisuke

author's note: finals season is over so you can safely expect more consistent updates B) if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) While reading the book Daisuke let you borrow, Jimmy interrupts your break with a message from Curly. You get a quick piloting lesson from Curly before catching up with Daisuke.

word count: 2,239

warnings: jimmy... all characters are 18+

now playing: Daft Punk - "Something About Us"

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EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 062—

There’s really nothing like the song the Tulpar sings. Jimmy said it sounded like she was taking a shit, but I couldn’t disagree more. She groans as she moves through space, like the kind of low rumble as you successfully lift something heavy. There’s pride in the sound that she makes. She’s old, she’s resilient. There’s something so inspiring about being onboard this tired girl. I don’t know how to put it, so I’m not going to waste your time trying, but I will say I’m starting to like it here.

DAY SIXTY-ONE—

Anya wrote furiously at her desk, her head hung low as she scribbled notes into a crisp, new journal. She hummed quietly to herself—a familiar song but one you couldn’t quite place. It was nice background noise regardless. Your feet dangled before you, swaying as you sprawled out on one of the cots along the far wall of the medical bay. The delicate pages of a well-worn book were soft beneath the pads of your fingertips. You brought your index finger and your thumb to your mouth and swiped them along your tongue, turning the page over to the next. The story was gripping, to say the least. You had barely moved since your break started ten minutes ago, and Anya found your reactions incredibly amusing each time she raised her head to take a glance at you.

Daisuke had lent you a book he had brought onboard. It was new, one his mom had gotten him so he’d have something other than his Gameboy to occupy him during his free time. Project Hail Mary. Weirdly fitting and slightly worrying considering his internship in space. There was a subtle irony about giving her son a sci-fi adventure to keep him company at night. You had just started, but you couldn’t stop reading. Maybe it was the story itself, or the new found desire to have something you could talk about with Daisuke, but whatever it was kept you reading during your spare time.

The medical bay door wheezed open, but you were too immersed and unbothered to check who it was. Anya shuffled in her seat, sitting up straight as she peered up questioningly at the new addition. They cleared their throat and ignored her entirely.

“Oi, [Name],” Jimmy’s grating voice sounded from the door. You barely lifted your head, earning an irritated noise from the man in question. “Curly needs you. Said he’s got something he wants you to take care of.”

Reluctantly, you closed the book and set it aside on the cot. Annoyance riddled your face as you slowly sat up, coming to your feet with a huff. “What kind of something?”

“The kind of something where you remember I’m also your superior, got it? Now, c’mon. We don’t have all day, it’s kind of urgent,” he replied as he turned on his heels and started walking away.

You rolled your eyes, giving Anya a look that said ‘Can you believe this guy?’, to which she giggled and shrugged her shoulders. Jimmy continued to walk away, presumably toward the cockpit as you scrambled to catch up with him. You followed him down the stairs, finally reaching his side. He barely turned to face you, doing what little he could to acknowledge your presence.

“How old are you again?” Jimmy asked, an uncomfortable smirk spreading across his thin lips.

You furrowed your brows. “Twenty. Why?”

“That’s a relief. I thought you were younger,” he started, still walking at a pace you found difficult to keep up with. “Guess you’re just a little immature for your age, huh?”

“Excuse me?” You stopped in your tracks in complete disbelief.

“Oh c’mon, babe. Y’know I don’t mean anything by it.” Jimmy finally turned to face you, shit-eating grin tugging his sharp features into a sickeningly satisfied expression. “We shouldn’t stall any longer. Curly’s waiting, remember?”

He kept walking, leaving you with no choice but to follow. It was of great interest to him to remind you exactly who was in charge on the Tulpar. After you reported to Curly, at the end of the day, you then also had to report to him. 

Jimmy opened the door to the cockpit entrance, motioning for you to take the lead now. Something made you uneasy about having him walk behind you, but you did as he suggested, walking toward the main room with a cautious step. As the door slid open, Curly greeted you with an enthusiastic smile. He sat leisurely in the co-pilot’s seat, legs spread with his elbows propped against his knees. His chin rested along his intertwined fingers as he leaned forward.

“Hey, [Name]! How was your break?” Curly asked, patting the captain’s chair for you to sit.

Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it when the captain shot him a dismissive look. Instead, he took a seat in the extra chair in the back, grumbling something under his breath.

“Good. Not long enough,” you said with a timid smile of your own.

“They never are, are they?” Curly laughed. “This will be fun for you, I promise. I’ve got a test for you, if you’re up for it.”

Your interest piqued as you watched him wink, nodding toward the various monitors before the two of you. You followed his direction, gaze fixing on the green screens. The forest of tech was straining on the eyes, but you couldn’t look away when you noticed exactly what he was talking about. On the main rudimentary map, a small asteroid moved closer to the Tulpar, venturing slowly onto the grid. 

“I knew you’d catch on quick. It’s an easy fix, you know that. Just have to steer the ship out of the way. Simple, right?” the captain proposed, his tone encouraging and confident. “Normally we’ve got autopilot engaged, so we don’t have to worry about little guys like this, but the case is different when larger orbital bodies present themselves. Since this one is so small, I thought we could put your piloting skills to the test. If you’re going to be like me, you’ll need to have manual steering down. Think you can handle it?”

You looked back to Curly, practically beaming at the prospect of steering the ship all on your own. “Seriously? Yeah, I can handle it!”

“Curly,” Jimmy croaked, grabbing the attention of both of you. “You really think this is a good idea? She’s never done this before. One wrong move and we could all lose some credits.”

“It’s a matter of left or right, Jim. If you can do it, she can do it. Stop having such little faith in our apprentice,” Curly replied sternly.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, looking back to the screens as the ship steadily approached the asteroid. A warning flared on the screen, announcing the impending possibility of impact. The captain shifted in his seat as he faced you once again, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. Jimmy’s got a one track mind. We’ve both got faith in you.”

You nodded. Curly disengaged autopilot and ushered you to take hold of the steering controls. All you had to do was keep the ship steady as you passed the asteroid. Simple. Your fingers grazed the handles of the steering device with a nervous rumble in your chest.

An orbital body has been detected 20 AU ahead of the vessel.

Please make a manual correction 0.5° rightwards to avoid impact with unknown mass.

Carefully, you pushed the device to the right as instructed, approximately 0.5° as suggested by the console. The alerts dismissed themselves as your grip on the handles tightened. You kept hold of the ship, gently taking it past the orbital body.

“Nicely done! Smooth as butter,” Curly cheered, raising a hand for you to high-five him.

You quickly let go of the device, accidently knocking it to the left as you slapped your hand against his. The Tulpar rocked for a moment before the autopilot engaged once again and settled its position. You winced, causing the captain to laugh.

“That’s my fault. Don’t sweat it, nothing happened other than a little ‘turbulence’.” He raised his index and middle fingers, curling them as he gestured air quotes.

You grinned weakly, a touch of adrenaline making your leg bounce. Slowly, you stood up once more so Curly could have his chair back.

“I’d say you earned the rest of the day off. What do you think?” Curly suggested, relaxing in the captain’s seat as Jimmy took the co-pilot’s.

“But-” Jimmy started with his mouth agape.

“The day’s almost over, Jim. We don’t have enough work for three people either. Let the girl rest.”

“Thank you, Captain,” you replied.

“No need to thank me. Good work today,” The captain patted you on the back before he ushered you away, sending you off to relax.

“You’re too soft on her,” Jimmy mumbled as he turned to Curly, not even waiting for you to leave the room.

You didn’t care to hear what else the co-pilot had to say, his words venomous and laced with envy. The door slid open and you stepped out into the entry hall to the cockpit.

“She’s a highly capable pilot, Jim. What are you suggesting?” You heard Curly retort as the door shut abruptly. A proud smirk twisted on your face. You, a capable pilot. It had a nice ring to it.

Once in the hallway, you gradually made your way back to the medical bay. You could picture the book resting on the cot, practically calling out to you as its nonexistent voice beckoned you back to the sanctuary of Anya’s office. As you passed Utility, you noticed Daisuke pacing back and forth in front of the closed door. His brown eyes landed on you in an instant, almost like he was waiting for you. One of his typical wide, lopsided smiles stretch wide across the entirety of his face—the small gap between his two front teeth dark in contrast to his pearly whites.

“There you are! I went to Anya’s but you weren’t there. She said you were doing somethin’ important in the cockpit,” he exclaimed as he approached you. “Did you feel that earlier? It was like the whole ship was totally shoved or something. Nearly knocked me on my ass on my way here.”

“That was the ‘something important’ I was doing. Get this, I got to steer the ship,” you responded, voice in a higher pitch due to your lingering excitement.

“That was you? If that’s how you fly a space freighter, I can’t imagine how you drive,” Daisuke teased, playfully nudging you with his shoulder.

You snickered as the two of you walked toward the medical bay together now—Daisuke making sure to walk at your pace. “You have no room to talk. You don’t know the first thing about piloting, do you?”

“Nope, and that’s exactly how I plan to keep it. I promise you nobody wants me behind the steering wheel of one of these things,” he joked, his eyes fixed on you as you two rounded the corner.

“It’s not quite a steering wheel,” you corrected.

“My point exactly.” Daisuke chuckled softly. “So, how are you liking the book so far?”

He was clearly antsy to talk to you about it. Swansea had been reprimanding him all day, trying to keep the poor guy’s focus on the task at hand. Not that that was a new struggle for the two; Daisuke had trouble keeping his attention on one thing at a time.

“It’s really good! I haven’t gotten too far though. Duty calls and all that.”

Daisuke basically jumped as you spoke. “Yeah? It’s, like, one of my favorite books now.”

“I can see why,” you said, amused by his excitement.

Before you knew it, the door to the medical bay stood right in front of you. Daisuke stopped walking, standing still at your side as both of you paused. It seemed like his smile wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon. You bet that his cheeks probably hurt with that goofy thing stuck on his full lips.

“I wish I could chill out with you guys, but Swansea only let me go for ten minutes.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. In reality, Daisuke told Swansea he had to go to the bathroom. Technically, he should have been back five or so minutes ago, but he was pretty confident he could push ten. “I’ll leave you to read. No rush, but hurry up so we can talk about it!”

“That sounds a lot like rushing,” you teased, reaching for the door handle.

Just as your fingers made contact with the cool plastic, Daisuke's hand brushed against yours as he attempted to get the door for you. The touch was brief, but the warmth of his skin against yours made your heart skip a beat. You looked up at him only to find his wide eyes were already trained on yours. Breathing a laugh out of your nose, you pulled the handle and opened the door. The two of you mumbled awkward apologies to one another as you stepped through the doorway.

“I’ll see you later,” he said with a swallow, smiling sheepishly before walking backwards down the hall again.

You held his eye contact with your own semi-flustered expression. “Yeah, you too!”

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pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii @lunachuu @llamapie69 @pennydew @berryboo

[ihavethedreamies]

Oasis | S.Coups

Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Violence (mentions of weapons, but nothing else), Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Princess, Pumpkin, etc.), Daddy Kink (as required by law), Swearing, Kissing, Thigh-Riding, Cockwarming, Couch Sex, Slight Breathplay, Soft Dom! S.Coups, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), He's got some ~fancy~ tattoos ;)

Author's Note: Okay this one was…normally I can stay calm writing, but not for a Scoops. He's just so fucking hot…

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I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The only problem with being in a small village in the middle of the desert is there were very few places to hide. You turned a corner around a sandstone building into an alleyway. Luckily, there was a pile of crates with a small enough hole for you to hide. Crawling into the space, you tried to stay as quiet as possible while also catching your breath. You worried your panting would be too loud. You clutched your bag close to you, not wanting to lose the contents again. Having found what seems to be an extremely valuable artifact, you had tried desperately to get it back after it had been stolen. You had reported the chunk of crystal to the Assembly and they said it was possibly valuable enough to bring to headquarters. Though, while you were camping out, about a third of the way through a four-day journey, your camp was ransacked, and your crystal stolen. You followed the thieves that turned out to essentially be a gang, and you took it back. They had found you though and had been chasing you for a good hour. They obviously understood the crystal's value if they were pursuing you so intently. Peaking around the crates, you saw a few of the goons run down the street past the alley, but you weren't brave enough to get away yet.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, a hand having grabbed your braid at the base, hauling you out of your hiding hole. Your hands grappled at his, trying to get him to let you go, legs scrambling on the ground.

"You stupid bitch-" He grumbled, yanking your hair harder till you fell back against his legs.

"Where's the rock?" He snapped and you just glared up at him, not wanting him to realize if you looked at your bag. You grunted at the tug on your hair, but immediately stopped wiggling when you felt something metal press against your neck.

"If I get this back from you, the boss might just promote me-"

"Kind of hard to get a promotion with an extra hole in your head." A new voice spoke and you could feel the gangster freeze behind you, the knife pressed to your neck retreating slightly. You assumed this new man had pressed his own weapon, a blaster most likely, against the guy's head.

"Drop the knife." This new man's voice was steady, strong, and you felt safe already. You heard the blade clatter on the ground, and the hold on your braid released, so you scrambled away from the gangster. Instead of going forward, you basically crawled around and behind the aggressor, and stopped once you were safely behind your rescuer. Just from behind, you could tell he was strong, his bare arms showed his biceps were nearly as big as your thigh, maybe bigger. Smooth geometric tattoos painted his arms, looking similar to a circuit board. His hair was bright red, slicked back just enough to keep the longer strands out of his face, the ends resting just above his shoulders. He had a belt strapped around his torso over his vest, various things attached to it along with several ammo cartridges. Another strap around one of his thick thighs had the holster for his blaster and his pants were tucked into a pair of knee-high combat boots.

"Now screw off before you can't." The man pulled his blaster away, but literally kicked the guy's ass, sending him onto his face a few feet forward. The gangster scrambled to his feet and fled. Once he was gone, the man before you turned around finally and your breath left you right after you had caught it back. He was fucking gorgeous. You wondered if the slit in his eyebrow was from a scar, or just for looks, it was hard to tell in the dark light.

"Are you okay, doll?" He kneeled in front of you, even like that you felt tiny…Tinier than usual. You wondered if he could see your reddened face in the low light.

"Y-yes." You nodded, letting him wrap his hands around your arms to help you stand up. Your own hands went to his biceps, trying hard not to squeeze to test the muscle there, and your shaking legs finally got you up. You wished he didn't have the leather gloves on so you could feel more of his bare skin on yours. After you were both up, the top of your head only reached his chin, and he smelled good-

"Why were they after you?" he asked and you had to step back to look at him even with your head tipped up.

"Uh…" You weren’t sure if he was trustworthy, even if he saved you. Maybe he just wanted the crystal for himself…

"It's okay, doll. I'm a Ranger." He pulled the chain around his neck up and out of his shirt, an upside-down triangle-like designed pendant on the end. You recognized it, and the title, so you relaxed. They were basically freelance, vigilante, bounty-hunter guys. They would help people in need and take out or get criminals without having to worry about legal red tape. It was an elite group, and their identities were not widely known. Sighing in relief at the news, you opened your satchel and pulled the crystal out. It wasn't refined and it was pretty heavy. You handed the rock to him and he looked it over, holding it easily with one hand while he holstered his blaster. The thin but tight black shirt he had on under his utility vest struggled over his chest as he did so, when he spoke you finally brought your attention away.

"This is a diamond, doll." He smiled and your jaw dropped. No wonder it was so valuable. That would make sense why the Assembly Headquarters wanted it, they had the largest bank on the planet.

"Seriously?"

"Yep." He once again held the gem in one hand, pulling a device out of a pocket of his utility belt. The Ranger clicked the end against the gem and looked at the panel on the side as the device beeped.

"About 13 hundred carats." He smirked, arching one of his thick eyebrows.

"Where'd you find this?"

"I'm a Scavenger, so I look for scrap and crashed ships or satellites. This was in some wreckage out near Dekkos." you told him, a bit surprised he handed the gem back to you.

"Are you bringing it to the capital?"

"Yes."

"You will probably have more of those gangsters plus anyone else who finds out after you, why don't I escort you?"

"You would do that?"

"Of course, doll. I'm Seungcheol, but my team calls me S.Coups."

"S.Coups?" you questioned and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, the S is for Seungcheol, and then coups like coup-d'état."

"You overthrow someone?"

"Well, kind of. Our first mission was to get a corrupt mayor out of power, so…" He smiled, somehow his extremely handsome face looked cute.

"Are you sure you don't mind escorting me?"

"I told you," he leaned forward so he was more eye level, "of course I don't mind."

"Can I call you Cheol?" you asked him, his name was kind of long and you weren't sure about his nick name…

"Of course, doll. What do I call you?" You told him your name in response and when he said it with a smile, your ovaries exploded.

"I know its late, but I was planning on getting to the next town over, it's about an hour, is that okay?" he asked you as you followed him to the main street and toward the edge of the village. You had wrapped the diamond up in a head scarf you had and tucked it back in your satchel. Cheol suggested you grab your stuff from your rover and leave it for the time being, since more goons might know it's yours. He wouldn't even let you carry your own bag.

"That diamond is enough for you to carry, (Y/N)." When you got to his own rover, you halted in shock. Not only was it new, but it was a really nice model too. Yours was nearly thirty years old and was not exactly top of the line, even new.

"Oh, this belongs to the whole group. I just have it most of the time since I'm the leader."

"You're the leader?" You hadn't known that.

"Well, kind of. I'm co-commander along with Woozi." He opened the passenger door for you and you climbed up onto the wheel and into the rover. The seats were nice, and actually seats versus what looked like a restaurant booth. The inside panels were just a flat holo-screen, and it even had heating. Your rover only had air-conditioning, so at night it could be kind of cold. You asked him a series of questions as you drove to the next town, and he answered each one humbly. Your eyes kept flitting to his hands on the steering wheel, then up his arms and traced every line of his tattoos, to his side profile-

"Your eyes might burn me, doll." He tried not to smirk, casting you a knowing side glance. You floundered for an excuse.

"Its fine, sweetheart." Seungcheol rested back in the seat and you shuffled in your own seat, your face not the only part of you heating up. By the time you reached the next town, all you wanted to do was get in bed, and maybe get him inside you…

"Do you mind sharing a hotel room, I can keep you safer that way." His suggestion was genuine, truly just wanting to protect you. And you were more than willing.

"That's fine!" Seungcheol smirked, walking past you into the hotel, one much nicer than the inns or motels you usually stayed at. You cringed at your own eagerness, following after him with your head bowed in embarrassment.

"Can we get a suite with two bedrooms?" He pulled his credit chit out, the hotelier tapped on her console telling you there was one available on the fifth floor. You watched her as she worked, and she kept looking up at Seungcheol and all over him. She wasn't blind, you didn’t blame her. He took the room and you balked at the price.

"Don't worry, doll." He cast you a gentle smile, so you didn't. Judging by his rover, even if he claimed it was the whole group's, he had money to spare. You followed after him, casting a glance back at the hotelier who was glaring at you. Wanting to stick your tongue out at her like a child, you restrained yourself and waited for the elevator with him. Right as the lift was reaching the ground floor, a group of about seven entered and headed toward the elevators as well. Because of this, the lift was full, and you pressed your small self into the corner, Seungcheol working as a barrier between you and the group of men that had entered as well. You doubted they even knew you were there. They had left the button pressed for the fifth floor, and you both waited for them to get out, then headed in the opposite direction. He tapped the clear card against the lock and it dinged, opening with a click. He carried both of your bags in and you looked around the suite in awe, never having stayed somewhere so nice.

"I'm going to shower quick." Seungcheol deposited your bag in one of the bedrooms and headed toward the other. There was a bathroom attached to each room and so you followed suit. Only taking a rinse off since you had showered the night before, you found yourself watching some show on the couch. You had changed into shorts and a tank instead of your leather leggings and vest. Your knees were pulled to your chest, feet resting on the cushion, and you were really trying to focus on the show. It was so hard though to not think of him in the shower. He was too freaking hot and there was only a door in between you and him. Naked.

"Fucking fuck…" You huffed at yourself, trying to snap out of your pervy thoughts, but it was futile. Especially since he had just come out in nothing but his pants. At least he wasn't just in a towel, but his muscular and toned body was perfectly on display. He had more of the circuit-like tattoos curling up over his shoulders and down his chest and sides of his stomach. You had noticed earlier not only were his arms and thighs thick, but he had a butt too. Fuck. He saw you gaping at him, it was kind of hard not to. It was like you had zoned out…or in rather, on him and he huffed a laugh, a bit embarrassed. However, he felt more smug than anything and his own eyes flicked over your mostly bare legs and the low cut of your tank. He would be lying if he said he wasn't just as attracted to you as you seemed to be to him. It was up to you make a move though… When you snapped out of it and your eyes met his, he was smirking and hummed with an inquisitive tone.

"Yes?" He teased and you choked on your saliva some, eyes flitting back over his bare chest.

"You curious?" You nodded dumbly.

"Come here, then." Seungcheol smiled and he nearly guffawed at how fast you leaped off the couch, but you approached much slower. You stopped right before him, hand coming up and hovering over his skin. You flitted your gaze up to his face and he nodded, taking a sip out of the bottle he was holding. As soon as your fingertips met his warm skin, the other hand flew up and you brought them down to rest on his abs.

"Fucking hell." You whispered and he really tried not to laugh, but you could feel his chest rumble a bit. Tracing each curve and angle of the tattoos snaking over him, you noticed they seemed to let out a slight reddish glow, lagging behind your tracing fingers over the black lines. Your mouth was hung open as you touched him like he was the best thing you had ever had the pleasure of touching, and he smirked harder. Getting annoyed with his smugness, even though it was warranted and caused by you, you dug your dull nails in a bit and scratched down. Seungcheol sighed, a low groan rumbling out after and your cunt clenched around nothing.

"What-?!" You squeaked as he crouched a bit, wrapping one around your upper thighs under your butt, and easily lifted you up against his shoulder. He carried you over to the couch, his bottle still in his hand and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding. He could probably also feel your wet leaking through your panties and shorts.  You glanced down and saw that the tattoos were on his back too. The man sat on the couch, adjusting you on his lap so you were straddling one of his thighs. You nearly whined, having to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate, and you could feel the hard muscle through his pants. While they weren't super tight, with how he was sitting, the stretched over his thigh just right. He smirked again as he took another drink, your shorts so thin he could feel your pussy clench as you settled.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, doll?" Your fingers were lazily and lightly rubbing over his skin, it tickled a bit. Those tattoos definitely shimmered when you touched them…

"Can I ride your thigh?" Your voice was so soft that despite how close you were, he almost didn't hear you.

"You want that, sweetheart?"

"Yes, -dy." He barely heard the last part, your face blossoming red when you let the word slip, eyes widening in panic. Seungcheol groaned when he heard it, adjusting his footing and bounced his leg under you a bit, forcing it up and against your needy cunt.

"You wanna ride daddy's thigh, pumpkin?"

"Fuck, yes please~" You gasped, but held back from moving, nodding.

"Go ahead, then." He took a casual sip from the bottle, glancing over your shoulder at the TV like he was actually focusing on it. He licked his lips, swallowing a chuckle when you began to grind down onto his leg, so hard he felt your pulse from your core. Your little mewls grew louder when you leaned forward, losing strength in the rest of your body, resting your forehead on his collarbone. Your fingers dug into the waist of his pants on either side of you, getting closer and closer. While Cheol had his number of sexcapades, he had never had a girl be this eager to fuck herself on his leg. Most of the time he was worried if they would find out he didn't, by any means, mind getting called daddy. You were the first one though to jump on it immediately, and with no hint or prompting from him. He was thanking fate that he was the one that rescued you.

"I'm-" You gasped, your hips stuttering.

"Close, pumpkin?" He finally put the bottle down, his arm curling around your waist, helping you keep your rhythm. His face got close to yours, so much so your lips were barely touching and he swallowed your moan, invading your mouth with his tongue. You fell apart then, whining as he helped you ride out your high, catching every little noise you made with his lips. Your head was swimming, you nearly gasped for air when he left the kiss. Your panties were sticking to your even wetter folds, and he could feel that your slick had soaked through his pants too.

"Did a good job, sweetheart."

"Thanks, daddy." It seemed you were a bit shy with the daddy-kink play, but you had started it.

"What now, doll?" Your eyes met his, unsure with what answer he wanted.

"What do you want me to do to you now?" He arched a brow and your mind ran rampant with all the possibilities.

"W-what do you want to do?" You threw the question back and he tilted his head in thought, humming. You could feel that his cock had gotten hard against your knee, your mouth watered when you glanced down at the tent pitched, wondering just how big he really was.

"What if…" As he spoke, his hand drifted from your hip, over your ass, and into the back of your shorts. You moaned when his fingers hit your soaking cunt, lightly circling the pad over your entrance.

"…you sit on my cock and we watch a movie?" His suggestion took you a second to piece together. Cockwarming? Fuck, yes PLEASE.

"O-okay." You nodded and his hand withdrew. He easily moved you to turn around and assisted with getting your shorts and panties off. Cheol adjusted his position and you rested against his chest, reaching down to release his cock from his pants. Your eyes widened, breath hitching when your hand met the flesh, finally getting him out to see what you had to work with. You were going to get split in half, and you couldn't be more excited.

"Daddy~" You whined, head falling back onto his shoulder, your nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Can you take it, pumpkin?" He stroked the soft skin under your belly button, the sensation made you shiver, already sensitive.

"Yes."

"Yes…?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." You sat up a bit more, propping your hips up as he guided the tip of his fat cock to your glistening folds. A bit concerned when you let out a small choking noise, it soon faded into a moan, which rose into a whine as he sank deeper and deeper. You thought he would be in your throat by the time he was all the way in. Your tight core fluttered around his cock, the delicious burn of the stretch bringing you dangerously close to another orgasm already. When he had about another inch to go, you lost your strength. You slumped back into him, gravity pulling you the rest of the way done so his cock buried in completely. Your cunt twitched along with the rest of you, trying to adjust to the stretch and the intense pleasure it caused. If you were already so sensitive, he wondered how bad you would get after sitting on his cock for a good hour.

"Hm, so good, sweetheart. Taking daddy's cock like a pro." His groan rumbled through him and over you, his strong arms wrapping over you to hold you up and to him. After about five minutes, your brain started to function a bit more, and you tried to get more comfortable on his lap as he started something you really cared not for. It wasn't what the movie was, but you could only think of him splitting you open and his bare chest pressed to your back. You had your legs spread wide over his lap, knees over his so he could easily hold them open for you. Every few minutes, your whole body twitched from the pleasure, your breath shuddering, trying not to move. You really were a princess, more like a queen, taking his huge cock so good and sitting still so obediently. He had to push away the thought of immediately taking you as his wife, but man did he want to. Have you whenever he wanted…

"D-daddy…!" You gasped, cunt clenching hard suddenly and he huffed as you came, not having moved for the last half hour. He wondered how that was possible, and so did you. Seungcheol had to be a drug itself, because you were already addicted. You needed him so bad-

"Fuck, hold on…" He grunted, shutting the TV off and wrapping his arms around you tighter, hand on your opposite hip and the other across your chest so his hand could rest under your jaw. He splayed his legs better, sliding down the couch a bit to get better leverage, and your nails quickly dug into the back of the couch to prepare. He gave a shallow but hard thrust and you squealed, releasing babbles as he fucked up into you. Each thrust shattered pleasure through your body, his skin getting hotter against yours. Moreso than was natural, and you realized you could feel the pattern of the marks covering his torso with the heat. They must have been some kind of cybernetics…

"Want more, princess?" He rumbled and you whined an affirmation, his thrusts still hard but too shallow. You didn’t want to be able to walk the next three days… The hand he had on your hip shifted so he splayed his fingers over your lower stomach, index and middle fingers resting in a V right around where he had his cock inside of you. His other hand your jaw moved down to your collarbone, lying over the top of your chest, his pinky slightly under the hem of your tank. The heat of his tattoos increased, and suddenly it was like every one of your nerves was set on fire. He froze his pace, grunting as your cunt clenched harder as you came again already, soaking down his balls and over his pants. He chuckled as your core pulsed over and over, seeming to never end. You nearly blacked out, gasping for breath and wondering what the hell that was.

"W-what?"

"I can use these to affect the nerves of people. I use it to knock out targets, or to ease the pain of someone I’m helping. Can make you real sensitive…" He hummed by your ear, his teeth nibbling on the ridge.

"Where do you want daddy to fuck you next, doll?" You nearly didn't register his question, still trying to find your place in reality.

"Bed…" You knew it was cliché, but…

"Of course, sweetheart." He sat all the way up, the position change shifting him inside you and you gasped, whining in disappointment as he pulled you off his cock. Just as easily as he lifted you before, you carried you to his room, grabbing the end of the duvet and easily pulling the whole thing off, letting it float to the floor. Resting you down like you were as delicate as a flower, you sighed at the cool fabric hitting your back. Seungcheol kissed the corner of your mouth, and you tried to follow his lips, but they left yours, moving down your jaw and to your neck. Letting him move you, he brought on of your thighs to his hip, slinging your other knee over his elbow. Your cunt eagerly sucked his cock back inside and you whimpered as he slowly bottomed out. Giving you just a second to adjust, he leaned down and kissed you again. You mewled, your knee resting over his shoulder more than his elbow, the other leg wrapping over his hip as tight as you could manage. A trail of saliva connected your lips when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth.

"Ready, pumpkin?"

"Yes, daddy!" You squeaked in delight as he started to move, immediately barreling his fat cock into you, the head battering your cervix. His pace was so intense, your wet dripped over his groin and down your butt to land on the sheets. It must have been an extremely secure bed frame, because it only shifted a bit despite his powerful thrusts. You couldn't even make little noises, your mouth hung open in a silent moan, drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth. You were so fucked out and he wanted to keep you like that from then on. Always drunk on him…

"So fucking good…" He chuckled, hand gripping your leg at his hip, easily slinging your other leg over his shoulder, folding you in half. You saw stars, the first thrust at the new angle fucked another climax out of you, your cunt squirting and creaming his cock even more and he grunted at the tightness. His tattoos started to heat up again, you could feel the change on the back of your thighs where he pressed down into you. Not sure what sensation he was going to surge you into, you couldn't get ready. The same intense arousal sensitivity started to rise again, but something else hit you. A slight tightening at your neck, but his hands were nowhere near. It was very slight and it didn't restrict your oxygen at all, just giving you a dull squeeze in the best way. Your gasps were from the intensity of your pleasure rather than the press of your throat. Then, your senses shifted, your vision blurred and it seemed like you could only hear the woosh of your pulse and his grunts. You felt his skin on yours hotter than before, his cock seemed hotter too, and the scent of sex intensified. When his mouth went back to yours, it was like you could taste his tongue, taste him even more and his groan vibrated your tongue wrapped around his. Without warning, the heat spiked, and your eyes rolled back in your head. His hot cum pumped into you, your own final orgasm hitting you, rolling over and over, dulling before reigniting into another full climax. The heat of his cum spilling out from where he was inside you seemed to sear over your skin and when he had stopped, your senses returned to normal and it was like someone threw cold water on you. Your hearing returned to normal, and you could hear the noise of the street again. You finally registered that he had pulled away from the kiss, hovering over you with a smile. Not a smirk. You could barely get anything out but a whine.

"Did daddy fuck you good, doll?" You nodded lazily and he laughed, kissing you again.

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞

🥀Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact 

🥀Au: royal, navy, space, sci-fi

🥀Trope: role reversal

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you're left with one simple task... to be his cum bucket

🥀Kinks: uniform kink, oral (m), masturbation (f), degradation kink, mean dom! seonghwa, brat sub! reader, spitting, deep throating, choking, thigh slapping, creampie(s), overstim, marking, fingering(f)

🥀Word Count: 1,541

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Fourteen: threesome/ritual

Seonghwa strode into the Captain's Quarters, his heels clacking purposely against the polished-with-wear metal. He tossed a long strand of hair out of his face, eyes looking for you. He stood in all his powerful glory before you in the bed. The leather of his outfit creaked despite the gold embroidery. He was clad in such from the tops of his shoulders starting with his long jacket, the corset like adornment along his ribcage, the straps that held the sheath for his sword and guns, and finally the pants and boots, that left nothing to the imagination, to be honest.

You were where he left you, naked and in bed. You had only the stark white sheet hiding your bare skin, but even that seemed to irk the man that used to be your first mate.

The U.S.S Utopia had been your ship, and you, its Captain. You had sailed her all along the Milky Way, plundering and stealing, after the American government fell to the people during a coup d'état. Then Seonghwa, with an evil grin, had convinced the crew to mutiny against you. You loved the Utopia and had pleaded that you would do anything to remain on board and not get plunged into the freezing depths of the dark sea, aka space. Seonghwa gave you one choice: remain as a useful tool, as a cum bucket for him, and he would allow you to stay. You agreed immediately and had remained so for several months now. And he had not tired of you yet.

The now-captain ripped his sheets off your body, eyes searching still for the dried cum on your skin. He seemed enamored with leaving his mark on you, in more ways than one.

“Lover,” he said in a sing-song voice, clueing you in that he was in a cruel mood. “I told you to remain here, in my bed, with my cum on you.”

“I did, Seonghwa!” You insisted.

Seonghwa waved a gloved hand in your vague direction. “I see nothing.”

“I was cold!” You insisted, trying not to look eager. “Perhaps the sheet brushed it off!”

You had washed his cum from your body as soon as he had left the room. You wanted him to come back and punish you. You looked forward to it, in fact.

Seonghwa sighed heavily, undoing his pants. “I don’t know how you ever were in charge of this ship. I’ll just have to repeat my handiwork and then some.”

There was some type of cruel kink for enjoying Seonghwa fucking you in an almost carbon copy of your captain’s outfit made to fit him. You loved the feel of the leather against your bare skin. There was something dirty and cheap about the way that Seonghwa couldn't be bothered to disrobe while he fucked you. You were addicted to being used by your past first mate; you simply could not get enough of it.

“Suck me off,” He said lowly after he had undone his pants just enough for his cock to be pulled out.

You took his soft cock and pulled him into your mouth. You stared up at the cruel captain with wide, eager eyes. You knew everything that he loved--and exactly what set him off. Your tongue curled around his head as blood rushed to his cock, and then he commanded you to touch yourself. You made loud noises of pleasure as you rubbed a finger against your clit and his cock grew in length even faster. Soon you were able to bob up and down him, hollowing your cheeks so that he could feel all of you.

Simply put, Seonghwa just wished to order you around. You had spent most of your career belittling him and his self-worth. So now that he was captain, he took every chance to return the favor. It never made him feel less than the whimpering second in command he always saw himself as, but still he pushed forward.

Seonghwa’s fingers floated over your head, a pretend-softness before he grabbed your hair harshly. When he pulled you off his cock, you kept your tongue out of your mouth and he spit onto it. Then he shoved you back on his cock, practically face fucking you. He wanted to see those tears form in your eyes and hear the chokes as you barely managed his length in your mouth and down your throat.

“You love sucking my cock, don’t you, you pathetic whore,” Seonghwa spat. “Always eager to have a dick in any hole you can get.”

Case and point, you pushed a finger inside of yourself, moaning loudly. That made anger burn in Seonghwa’s dark eyes. “I didn’t say to fill yourself, did I?”

Seonghwa pulled you off his length again, and you began to protest. “Seonghwa!”

“That’s Captain to you!” He snarled, and your mouth snapped shut.

He began to pace in front of the bed, brewing up a plot. How did he want you now? How did he want to cover you with his cum? There were so many options but he knew he needed to walk the ship again later, to keep an eye on his crew that had been so easily swayed to mutiny against you.

“Captain, please,” you begged. “I’ve been good.”

“Puh-lease, you don’t know the meaning of good,” Seonghwa spat his words. He pulled at his corset, and you saw your way in.

“Doesn’t fit you as well, does it, Seonghwa? Too snug at your ribcage or too small for your waist?”

“I wear this outfit better than you ever did,” Seonghwa roared, eyes like coals in his head.

Seonghwa made you ride his cock while he laid down on his bed, fully clothed of course; made you stare at him in your old captain’s outfit tailored to fit his body. He commanded you to speak of how he is a better captain than you and if you were interrupted by a sharp thrust of his upwards, you got a slap on your thigh with his leather glove. And when he came inside you, he held you down on his cock, a cry leaving his plush lips. Only once all of his cum had been pumped in you, did he allow you to raise yourself up, watching as his cum clung to his cock and poured out your cunt.

But that wasn't enough for Seonghwa, oh no, he wanted more.

He painted your body with bruises and cum, never tiring of abusing your body and seeing the stars light up in your eyes as he did. Because make no mistake, he was well aware that you loved to provoke him and what followed. But he was too drunk on his power, too drunk on you, to stop himself from giving you exactly what you wanted.

Seonghwa fucked you against the headboard, gloved hands wrapped around your throat, chest peeking above the corset, looking like a debauched pirate captain that ever sailed the Milky Way. His evil grin was apparent, eyes traveling all over your face as you made choked noises.

He released your throat, but you only whined, moving his hands back. “Please, Seonghwa, more,” you said with a raspy voice.

“Such a slut for me, aren't you, lover?” Seonghwa grinned in triumph.

“Yes, Captain,” You agreed, rocking your hips eagerly forward.

Seonghwa squeezed his hands around your throat again. He gauged by your face how close you were to your climax, and when he let sweet air invade your lungs again, you came so hard for him that your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You were drowning in pleasure and still, you groaned about him making a further mess of your pussy. Seonghwa looked you straight in the eyes and fucked you through your orgasm. He drank in every scrunch of your nose and whine about it being too much (it was everything you wanted), until he came inside of you again. You both felt his cum slip out of your hole as he fucked your cunt, following his pleasure. There simply wasn’t enough room for all his cum and yet still he continued to unload into you.

“You exist to be my cum bucket, lover, and don’t you forget it,” Seonghwa whispered into your ear.

Later, when you were passed out in his bed and only the lights of the stars left to reveal all the ways you belonged to him, Seonghwa admired his handiwork. His cum was all over your body, marks of his teeth and hands painted on your skin. And still it wasn't enough. You had screamed his name hoarse, sounding bittersweet from your lips, red after the blowjobs and biting. But it never erased your jeering face of old from his memory.

So he pushed his hands between your legs and patted your cunt. Your body jolted and you groaned as you woke up. Seonghwa's lithe fingers played with your pussy, still wet with desire and his seed. And after everything he put you through, you reached between your legs and pressed his fingers further into your body.

Seonghwa smiled, the first one of pure glee rather than cruelty. You were programmed to be greedy for him, and that was enough.

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Fourteen: threesome/ritual

[upon-a-starry-night]

While We Dream Pt.6

Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Star Wars Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: As Kylo sleeps he finds himself mysteriously transported to your modern world, while you sleep you find yourself following alongside Kylo as he goes about his duties as “supreme leader?” who even was this guy? And why does he keep talking about ‘The Force?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t know which feeling consumes you first, relief at being home, or frustration at being ripped away right when you were about to get some answers. One thing you do take notice of, however, is the fact that your body still feels well-rested even after the rollercoaster of emotions you went through in that…dream?

Still, you don't want to find yourself back there anytime soon despite your curiosity about the man who lives there. You lie awake on the couch for several minutes trying to find an explanation and only let yourself get up when you conclude that your brain must have subconsciously created a sci-fi scenario due to the movies you fell asleep watching and replaced the main love interest with the man who saved you.

It’s a questionable solution at best but you don't think you’d be able to get through the rest of your day if you don’t force yourself to believe it. 

You must have slept through the entire night on that couch because the soft light of the sunrise is peeking through your windows as you stretch your limbs. Your body is still used to the early morning work schedule and even if you were tired enough to go back to sleep (which you aren't), you wouldn’t want to go back into whatever that place was so you roll with the punches and march to the kitchen to start on breakfast. 

Toast is ecstatic that you’ve finally woken up and can now feed him his breakfast and maybe if he’s lucky he’ll get a tiny piece of bacon from yours as well. 

At the kitchen island, you eat your food as you look over a flyer you got from the grocery store yesterday, it reads:

“Thinking of Becoming a Gym Instructor? Come Try Our 7-Day Trial and See if You Have What It Takes!!”

There’s an address and a phone number at the bottom as well. It’s not your first pick for a job, but it’s also something you’ve never considered before either. There’s a chance it could be fun, and if it turns out it's not your thing, at least you’ll get some exercise. 

After you finish eating, you shower and get ready for the day, putting on some gym clothes and doing some light stretching as you try to prepare yourself. The gym should be open by now so you grab your car keys, pet your cat goodbye, and head out the door with a pep in your step.

~~~~~~~

You were absolutely not returning for the remaining 6 days of the trial. By the time you were done with training, you were pretty sure you sweat out the entire 60% of water that was inside of your body. Your lungs burn like a wildfire you can’t put out and to make matters worse the person instructing you barely looks fazed. 

The pep you had when you first started was gone in the first ten minutes of the session and now here you are slugging your once light bag over your shoulder and making an internal promise to yourself to never come back to this gym. If that was day one you dread to think about what the rest of the week would’ve looked like. 

In your car you spend a good few minutes slumped against your steering wheel before you remember you ran out of cat food and should probably go buy more so your cat doesn’t eat you in your sleep. Not that he can reach your bed yet but animals are capable of crazy things when hungry.

You stop for lunch after the pet store when you realize it’s already noon and you need to replenish your energy if you were to get anything done the rest of the day. You’re scribbling “gym instructor” off of your list of potential jobs when you walk through the door. 

The first thing you notice is not the man on your couch, it’s the fact that your cat is stuck on top of your tall bookshelf and you wonder how he even got himself up there before your head double takes to the couch and the sack of cat food drops to the floor.

The corner of it splits and cat food spills out onto the floor, that seems to be enough to motivate Toast to jump down the entire height of your bookshelf and dig in before you start cleaning up but cleaning is the last thing on your mind.

Sitting there on the couch in the middle of your living room is the man from your dreams. 

You shake your head- or the man who saved you who keeps appearing in your dreams. Either way, there’s a man on your couch who’s definitely not supposed to be there. 

What’s even worse is he’s sitting on your couch like he owns it which makes you angry for some unknown reason.

You take note of the fact that he’s not wearing his helmet which- of course he’s not wearing it. That was just something that existed in your dream world, this was the real guy…or was he?

Immediately you turn tail and run back out of the house, for a split second you think you see him reach out his hand in that weird gesture he keeps doing but you’re out of the house before you can see more. You book it to your neighbor's house across the street and immediately ring the doorbell. Fear spikes when you see the man in your doorway. He stops, however, when your neighbors open the door, surprise on their face.

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you! How…are you?” Their surprise morphs into concern as they take in your sweaty shaken figure. You waste no time as you point to your open doorway where the man still stands, watching your every move.

“Do you see that?” You ask them hurriedly, desperate to see if he is real or if you are going crazy. They squint as they stare over to your house before their eyebrows shoot up and you think you’re about to be invited inside to call 9-11 when they say;

“What’s Toast doing outside?” 

“What?” You turn in confusion and to your surprise, spot Toast on your front porch hissing at the doorway. The man is still standing there looking like he’s having a stand-off with your cat and the sight would be funny if you weren’t actively hallucinating it. “So you don’t see…” 

You let your sentence trail off as your neighbor looks at you with questioning eyes like they're debating calling a nurse hotline to check on you. Honestly, you’re a little tempted to let them but your precious kitten is currently protecting your house from a 6-foot ghost and you aren’t going to let him fight that battle alone.

In order to not retain a reputation as the neighborhood crazy lady you turn to your neighbor with a sheepish kind of smile and wave it off, thinking of a quick excuse. “Sorry, there was a stray dog near my house but it looks like it ran away. Sorry to bother you!” 

Your explanation is enough to ease whatever worries your neighbor had about you as they wave you off and tell you not to worry about it. You say your goodbyes and then turn to go grab your cat before he runs away. The man’s gaze only shifts from your cat for a split second as he notices you approach but ultimately he seems fixated on the small creature you pick up into your arms.

You’re 90% sure your neighbors are watching you through their window so you square your shoulders and prepare to shove your way past the wall of black blocking your doorway. Much to your surprise, however, he tilts ever so slightly to let you pass by- although you have a suspicion it was more for the benefit of you not touching him. If you even could. 

When you habitually shut the door you almost flinch as you wait for the sound of it hitting his body. You don’t know whether to be happy or terrified when it passes straight through him and slams shut. On one hand, it didn’t hit him but on the other hand…it didn't hit him.

Now at least your neighbors can’t watch you have a manic episode. Which is what you were on the verge of because what the fuck? This was definitely not a dream but you had no way to explain what was happening.

The man seems just as confused as you as he looks down at his hands in a similar way to you in your dream world. He attempts to grab the doorknob but his hand passes right through it.

As quietly as you can, you shakily put down your cat and pull out your phone. You open the camera app and aim it at the man but nothing shows up on the screen.

“Oh my God.” You whisper as you lift a hand to cover your mouth in shock.

You don’t know whether to call a paranormal investigator or a doctor. Probably both. Just in case.

What were the chances you were just suffering from heat stroke?

Pt.7

A/n: Sorry for the unannounced hiatus! life got crazy but i'm back!~Starry

-----Taglist------

@cheeseburgercasserole @isy1994namjoon @phobobobophobia @froggygal @marii-ren @haileyofmischief @mmontgomeryb @ssnapsaurus

[kabr0ztrousers]

how about fem reader being kidnapped by aliens and being touched and experimented on by there weird science tools. And then aliens needing readers milk to feed there babies cause it's better than theres.

Happy to oblige, and thanks for your patience! Without further ado, here's:

Kabr0z Writes Episode 25: Suddenly, Sci-fi

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Alien abduction; kidnapping; dubcon; noncon; weird science; sextoy use; drugging/intox; hucow; overstim;

###################################

You didn't often get chance to come out here. You used to live much closer to the moors, but had to move into the city for work. You don't own a car, no point when there's trams and buses everywhere, so it's only when something brings you back to your hometown you get to revisit your old stomping grounds and reminisce on the past. You wished it had been on better terms, but the funeral was weeks ago now, and the old house you grew up in now sat empty, ready for the buyers to move in. You doubt you'll ever find the excuse to come here again now.

You shiver. From the brisk January winds, from the weight of memory.

There's a sound, you're not sure where from. More of a feeling than a noise, like a purring engine, heard from underwater.

Light. All around you, a perfect circle of blinding azure light. Your skin tingles and you notice dirt and pieces of grass floating up past you. Your hair looks as though you're in a swimming pool, floating beneath the surface, spreading out in a soft brown halo around your head. Your stomach flips and you're no longer in the moors. You're in a room, lit by that intense azure light. You screwed your eyes shut against the glare, you could still see the blue but it's less painful this way. There's a chittering sound around you, like marbles being shaken in a jar. The light cut out. You opened your eyes.

The room is still very blue, but lit much softer now. The bare walls and floor a dull silver. The chittering was still happening. You remembered something, that conspiracy nut at work always said if you think you're on an alien spaceship, you should stomp out some numbers. What were the numbers? You racked your brain. Two, three, five, seven, eleven? Whatever, it sounds like a plan.

You start stamping. You're not sure what doing maths at them will achieve, but they do seem to take notice. You finish stamping eleven times, and something taps back. Thirteen taps. You hesitate. 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, what next? Again you tried to think back to conversations you earnestly tried to not have at the time. Seventeen. Still not sure why, you stamped seventeen times, carefully counting your steps. The chittering started again. Louder, more insistent. The. The door opened. Whatever it was that stepped out into the room was in some sort of bodysuit, it looked pretty heavy-duty, and whatever it was he was holding you didn't want to get on the bad side of it.

You allowed yourself to be shepherded to another room, the alien keeping you at a distance from itself.

It was a curious sight, it had six limbs you could see: two legs and four arms. It only came up to about your shoulder, at a guess, but had a pronounced slouch so you weren't sure if it would normally be that short or if you just had the jailor with terrible posture. It showed you to a bench and motioned towards it. You sat, assuming that's what "pointing at the knee-high table" means in their culture.

That, on reflection, was a mistake.

More of the azure light bathed you. You couldn't move a muscle, paralysed where you sat. The alien opened a cupboard hidden in the wall and pulled forth a long stick with a hoop on the end. Weightless and unable to resist, it was an easy job for it to lie you down and take a bladed implement to your clothing, stripping you naked with effortless cuts. Once it had satisfied itself that every stitch of fabric was removed and you were quite immobile, it removed its suit.

A huge beetle-like creature stood before you. Mandibles chittering that rattling language into a device stuck to its thorax.

It pulled more tools out from the wall. Smaller ones, less for herding at arms length. It stood over you and started prodding you, dictating notes at your reaction. At least, that's what you guessed it was doing, it might just make that noise.

The tests got steadily more invasive. Once it had satisfied itself poking you, it started pushing devices inside you, one went into your mouth, one in your ear, it opened your legs and pushed thin probes into your asshole and your pussy. Was it taking your temperature?

It withdrew the probes, and pushed a tube into your mouth. You could see something inky-black start to flow down from the ceiling into some clear piping running down near you. You couldn't look around to see what was happening precisely, but you could guess. Something bitter flowed over your tongue from the tube. You gulped it down on reflex. It stung going down, like drinking indigestion. You could feel your heart start to race and your cheeks redden. Your whole body felt like it was blushing. Your clit started to tingle and throb. Your pussy ached and clenched. Your breathing caught and your eyes rolled as you felt hornier than you ever have before.

The alien thrust pushed something up to your pussy, and you came immediately. You heard it scurry back as your abs clenched in time with your cunt and you felt a stream of fluid escape you. You've never squirted before, who would've guessed all it newded was a cocktail of alien drugs.

The orgasm died down, but the neediness remained. You didn't care about the whole abduction thing. If you could speak you'd be begging it to fuck you. You didn't need to beg. It pressed something against you again. Again your whole body bucked and clenched, but it wasn't deterred now it knew what to expect. Something round was pushed into you. It only went an inch or so in, but you could feel the shape of it. Curved upwards, the end nestled exactly on your g-spot. A chittered command. It started to buzz. You felt your back arch as an animalistic groaning wail escaped you. You were shaking again, being held in an orgasm for minutes before it dies down. You could still feel it buzzing, driving you to another. Tears welled in your eyes as your aching cunt clenched and leaked in protest.

The alien kept taking notes, repeating the same pattern of chittered speech when you climaxed again and again. The repeated orgasms were taking their toll. Your mouth was dry but for the drip of bitter drug, your legs were twitching and aching, your abs were on fire.

Then it pushed a needle into your arm.

You couldn't see it coming this time, but you felt something hot in your veins. Your skin felt as if it was on fire, then freezing. Your breasts started to ache. With every fresh orgasm you felt hot, then cold, then your tits would ache more, over and over.

Ten? Fifteen? You don't know how many times you came until it happened. You felt a stream of milk spray from your nipples. Spurting out of you, pulsing in time with the painful clenching waves.

The chittering was manic, as though the creature was possessed. Devices were secured to your tits, probes suckling the milk from you in gentle sips, the new sensations only serving to speed up the frequency with which you kept cumming.

You don't know how long ago that was, time is meaningless here.

You were moved to another facility, then more women joined you, then men started to appear too, hooked up to similar machines.

An alien had come to your bedside once doing its rounds of the inmates. It explained in broken English, they had bought Earth in a land deal, and most humans are now livestock for them. They don't believe in eating sentient beings, but humans produce edible byproducts, which can be extracted.

So here you are. A dairy cow for aliens.

Forever

#############################

A/N: There's one more sci-fi story in the requests box, which will be tangentially attached to this but not really. I might reuse the alien race, they're fun.

If you want to see anything, get anything, or ask anything please don't hesitate! I'm hungry for ideas and inspiration, I won't judge, and I won't name you if you don't want

[frenchkisstheabyss]

| Pairing | husband!felix x chubby!fem!reader

| Genre | fluff & smut but make it apocalyptic

| Summary | A rouge planet's headed into our solar system, charting a course toward Earth with an 80% chance of collision. As the end grows near you indulge in a few final precious moments of intimacy with your husband.

| Word Count | 1.1kish

| Warnings | unprotected sex but, like, honey it's the apocalypse. a possibility of utter extinction...maybe. the ending is ambiguous because I'm a softie, sue me.

| A/N | I happen to be a retro sci-fi flick nerd, a K-pop nerd, and a hopeless romantic so this is how it manifested. As always, I hope you guys enjoy it 🖤

Extending your arm straight out in front of you, you flex the muscles in your hand. Wiggle your fingers in the ultraviolet wisps that drift through the air and make your wedding ring look like a tiny galaxy, a precious diamond sprinkled with stardust. The Earth is tinted a weathered blue and so are you.

So are the flowers that hug your bare feet as you stand in the back garden of your summer cabin. So are the tomatoes. The radishes. The carrots. The peppers. You can’t help but wonder if this is how the fish at the aquarium feel. Trapped in a blue gradient prison with nowhere to run, haunted by the knowledge that, no matter where things began, this is where it ends.

Your husband quietly approaches your side, twirling a daisy plucked from a nearby field between his fingers. He brings his arm around your waist, gently caressing the plush of your side. You exhale the breath that’s been trapped inside your chest, your body soothed by his touch even on the brink of the apocalypse. Felix tucks the flower behind your ear. It’s blue too. Like him. Like you.

Only it seems to glow and so does he but that’s the way it’s always been. Long before a rogue planet, starless and orphaned, came hurling into our solar system Felix glowed and everything he touched did too. Including you. “How much time left?” you ask, losing yourself in the longing of his gaze. The tips of his fingers delight in the softness of your skin as he cradles your cheek, “With you? Never enough.” 

Felix smiles, oh, that smile, and the corners of your mouth curve to mirror his. A moment of serenity, of normalcy, precious but fleeting. In the distance lightning strikes like you’ve never seen it before. Chased by a fierce rumbling in the clouds, it makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Felix clasps your face, grounding you as he kisses you with every bit of love within him.

If this is it, the last moment that he gets with the woman at the very center of his universe, he has to spend it with his lips pressed to yours. His tongue swirls around yours, penning every love letter not yet written on the inside of your cheeks. Lightning strikes again but this time you don’t see that sharp white light crackle through the sky. You don't hear the foreboding rumbling of the sky. Falling deeper under his spell, you’re numb to everything but him.

“Felix” you whisper, your breath chilling the thin layer of moisture on his bottom lip, “Could you do something for me?” “Anything,” he says, meaning it more than you know. “Make love to me…here…like the first time. I just…” He pulls you back into the kiss, cutting your explanation short. There’s no need to explain or to appeal to him. He remembers, exactly as you do, the first weekend he brought you here. How special it was.

You’d been together for a month then, not even official. Felix never invited anyone out to the cabin with him. Tucked away in the heart of a picturesque forest with no neighbors for miles, this was his quiet place but it never felt utopian until you came. The garden had been your idea and it was here, together beneath the rising sun, that you made love for the first time. How serendipitous that it should be your last. 

By the time your body’s nestled in the lush grass, you’ve plucked each other’s clothes away like the petals of a flower, leaving them sprinkled around the garden. Seeing you stare up at him, your gloriously curved body bare for him, has him reciting quiet prayers that he has enough time to indulge in every bit of you. For Felix, it’s not about the end. Not about chasing some high or crossing a finish line.

It’s about the gasp you just took when he kissed your neck, nibbling at it with just the right amount of pressure. It’s about the way you grip his hair at the root when his tongue traces your collarbone, massaging his scalp as his mouth meets your pillowy breasts, his tongue twining around your delicate buds. “I love you” he repeats, his professions muffled by hungry mouthfuls of your breasts. But you hear him. You feel him.

Kneading the squish of your belly. Parting your thighs. Swiping his fingers between the silky lips of your pussy. Rolling your clit beneath his thumb. You feel all of it. “I love you too. I love you. Ah…” you whine, something shifting in the air as two fingers ease into you, twisting and curling in response to every faint quivering of your walls. Craving the taste of you, he dips his head between your thighs, drinking the nectar that trickles from you like a stream, making him salivate as the flavor awakens his taste buds.

The rush of euphoria that washes over your body is unyielding, intensifying with each flick of his tongue and bend of his wrist. The world around you is quieter than before, the angelic sounds spilling from your lips the only thing Felix can hear. The only thing he cares to hear. A particularly desperate whine signals to him that the tension within you is ready to snap. “Mmm, not yet” he hums, licking his way up your body, leaving a trail of your juices behind.

Just enough remains that when your mouth parts to welcome him, you can still taste yourself on his tongue. “Felix!” you cry out, the nearly undetectable vibration of the ground coinciding with his length thrusting into you. For a moment, he doesn’t move, he just stays still, basking in the moment, throbbing as you squirm around him.

One of the starry ultraviolet wisps floats into your line of vision. You watch it pass with a strange sense of wonder. “I guess it’s like you always said,” Felix says, his hips rocking back and forth, driving you further and further toward your high with maddening intensity, “You and me to the end of the world.” You nod, the calmness of his voice bringing a certain peace to your mind, “To the end of the world.”

An 80% chance of collision. What that’d do to the human psyche no one could’ve predicted. Somewhere out there cities are crumbling. Lovers are becoming enemies and enemies are becoming lovers. People are bargaining with their gods or cursing them. The world is unraveling. And you?

Well, in your own way, you are too, your back arching and your eyes falling closed as you’re pushed beyond your limits, endorphins flooding your bloodstream. “To the end” he whispers, his arms around you once more, your face buried in his chest. 

To the end…

The end…

The End?

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KILLERS FROM THE NORTH

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~27.2k

⊲ previous

Outside the window, the town was still quiet and serene. There was no restlessness in it, no bustle either - people strolled lazily along the streets, the wind whipping unobtrusively at their chests. They shivered and wrapped themselves in light jackets, someone guessed to hide in a modest bar. The closer autumn came, the sooner the street lamps came on, their light caressing the human hearts that in their ignorance did not beat like mad, dangerously trying to burst out of the chests.  

Hopetown was calm, but Frank could not take his eyes off the window. The man strolled nervously through the kitchen, waiting for the meat to roast, and kept his gaze fixed on the streets beyond the window. It seemed to him that a messenger was about to arrive, bringing bad news and spreading it around, waking the peacefully slumbering town to an earthquake of human anxiety.

The man opened the window unable to bear it, so that he could hear every possible laugh or unintentional phrase. A cool wind blew in, and though it was still an expected guest, it was still unwelcome. "Where the hell are ya," the man muttered, sighing frantically and looking hopefully at every person who passed under the streetlight.

Frank had started cooking dinner two hours ago. He was deliberately stretching out the time, slowly chopping vegetables to drown out the thoughts and fears of all the possible consequences of what you'd done. The man hadn't realized before how much the heart could weaken with age, but now, waiting for Nathaniel, he could barely keep still. Frank didn't care about the supposed fight with you if you found out he'd let Nathaniel into town - it was more important to avert suspicion now, no matter what the cost.

Would Frank's word be your airtight alibi? Will the hunters believe you've been in his house all this time? Or will a blind and ferocious lynch mob catch up with you without listening to your arguments and explanations? Will you even want to justify yourself?

Noticing the soft, smooth march in the streetlight, Frank put his hands to his sides. The man glared at the guest, inwardly complaining that grace almost always entailed slowness. Frank was ready to use his ability of obey, but he restrained himself and continued to watch impatiently and obediently the silhouette that had already disappeared around the corner.

Two minutes later there was a knock at the house. Frank opened the door without hesitation, almost preemptively. "Hello," greeted Nathaniel politely to a panting Frank for no reason. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Frank hurried him, opening the door wider and gesturing to the dining table. "Ya want tea, coffee?" he asked fussily, approaching the kitchen cupboard.

"Coffee," Nael said courteously, and sat down at the table crossing his legs. He watched Frank grind the coffee beans with a furtive glance - Frank did it so fervently that it looked as if he would not even leave a pile of dust. The utensils rattled too loudly, the pot hissed and foamed, and Nael could hear the gray-haired man breathing heavily. "Y/N called me last night. Asked where Yoichi live," Nathaniel began softly, placing his hands on the table. "As soon as I told her the address, she immediately hung up on me," the higher-up ran his long fingers over the table, watching as Frank paused for a second then started stirring the coffee in the pot again as if nothing had happened. "Sensing something was off, I visited Yoichi at night. But instead of coworkers, all I found were two corpses with their hearts ripped out."

"I realized what ya were getting at already when ya called this morning," Frank said in a cold tone, pouring freshly brewed coffee from the pot into a mug. "My daughter had nothing to do with it."

"I didn't come here to heap accusations on anyone," Nathaniel gently shook his head, taking the cup from the man's hands. "On the contrary, I want to help."

Frank sat down across from Nael and stared him dead in the eye. The higher-up blinked lazily, endured the hard stare, and sipped his coffee. "Why should I believe ya?" muttered Frank.

"Are there other options?" asked Nathaniel ironically. "The hunters won't care what you say, they won't expect a trial and will only want reprisals. What a fool you'll look like when they come for your daughter."

No matter how much Frank tried to tell himself that he could still do a lot of things, it all crumbled with the sight of wrinkled hands, the shortness of breath after any little effort, and every time he looked at himself in the mirror, the gray hair reminded him of God's schedule. Strength was slowly but relentlessly leaving his body - the pain in his knees made it impossible at times for the man to tend to his favorite garden. "What do ya suggest?" asked Frank, giving up.

"I'll get the council," Nathaniel said. "Or what's left of it," he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as Frank immediately felt the weight of the responsibility that fell on the superior's shoulders. "I'll let the hunters know it was all the work of demons. I'll channel their anger. Oh, there's the whole election thing coming up...," Nael clucked his tongue tiredly, but even that sound came out of his mouth in a quiet melody. "Is there someone line up?"

"Dunno," Frank shrugged confusedly. "Camila's sister has a son growing up, and he's manifesting connecting abilities... Except the kid isn't even ten years old yet," Nathaniel's visage darkened the room, and a shadow caught the right time and fell over the man's golden hair, extinguishing its luster. "Come on, Nael," Frank tried to cheer the man up. "Maybe we can find someone older. You didn't learn that ability until you were a mature adult, either. And that's considering you were barely pulled out of the void, by the way. How old were ya then? Thirty-six?"

"Thirty-nine," Nathaniel corrected him, trying to quiet the willful arrogance in his voice.

Frank had a feeling of a catch - it seemed to be lingering on his doorstep, before it could enter the house with the superior. Frank was torn, feeling the unnecessary gullibility rasping inside and scratching his skin unpleasantly.

His ego too was not asleep too and did not let his master rest. Earlier Frank had felt in his gut that he was capable of fending off thousands of enemies, but when danger came knocking at the door, it was only weakness instead of a blade. There was no courage without strength, no surviving for strength without youth, and the man was ashamed of the thought - the hunter should pass in right time, leaving behind only memories of superiority. But Frank still had reasons to live. "Why would ya help us?" he asked quietly, looking away and rubbing the back of his head.

"Because I'm a good person, no doubt," Nathaniel said primly, setting the mug aside - when he set it on the table, it didn't even make a sound like it had been placed on soft absorbent cotton. "I wish I could say that," he sighed wearily, and the looming evening shadows removed his mask of arrogance, revealing a trembling regret. "But what happened was my fault, too."

Catch didn't wait embarrassedly - it kicked the door open with a swing. "Explain yourself," Frank muttered, pitching forward.

Nathaniel watched as dark lines began to spread across the man's fingers - no one here seemed to be giving him a choice. "Christian...," he began in a hoarse voice. Nathaniel coughed quietly, covering his mouth with the palm. "Y/N ended up in Yoichi's house most likely on my tip. Only it seems I was the one who miscalculated. I began to suspect Christian for he started acting differently - rarely showed up for work, and now he's disappeared altogether... I voiced my doubts to her, and I think she really did find something. I can't know because Y/N never told me. She didn't tell you anything?"

"She killed Yoichi for raping Danielle," Frank spat out, but immediately leaned back in his chair and thought about it. "I gathered that from Gojo, not from her, so I can't know for sure."

"Can I talk to her?" asked Nathaniel tactfully.

"No," Frank blurted out sharply, but after taking a couple of deep breaths, he calmed down. "There's no need to worry her now, it won't end well."

The higher-up faltered, pressing his lips together irritably. "Anyway, don't you think it's weird?" the man tried to get through to Frank. "Y/N's not the kind of person to lose her temper that easily-"

The phrase was cut off by a deafening bang on the door, which was threatening to fly off its hinges. "What the hell?" shouted Frank angrily, rising from his chair and going to the door; as he opened it, his eyes caught a silvery glint, his cheek burned, and there was a quiet thud behind him like someone had struck a small axe against wood. 

Frank, turning around, immediately noticed the blade stuck in the wall. The throw had been so strong that the weapon still wobbled visibly as if resenting its broken purpose. Leaning his hand against his cheek, he squinted, feeling the moisture on his fingertips - glancing at them and seeing blood, he turned around and faced dozens of angry eyes. "What the fuck ya think ya doing?" growled Frank gutturally, glaring back at the hunters.

"Where is she?" asked Camila coldly, standing directly in front of the man.

"Be more precise, dearie," Frank hissed, towering over her - she involuntarily flinched, though she didn't break eye contact.

"Y/N," she said, warningly placing her hand on the second blade that was still in its sheath. "Not only did she ignore my demand for my sons back, but there are some rumors going around-"

"I don't give a damn what your gang is whispering about," the man bellowed. "Get the hell out of here before I make ya eat your own shit."

Camila giggled hysterically. It was like the man before her was blind, for such threats before quantity became empty. Barely had she touched the scabbard as the eager blade was nearly bare, but the woman's triumphant anger was immediately replaced by shock. "Superior," she whispered, bowing her head and directing her open eyes to the floor.

Nathaniel, tucking his hands into his wide sleeves, raised an eyebrow haughtily. "There is punishment for such willfulness," he looked around at everyone present, humbling them. No one dared to speak, no one had the courage to look their superior in the eye. " Camila, tell the others that I expect everyone to the council at nine in the evening. Anyone who fails to show up will be suspended from their duties," he lifted his chin with a barely visible jerk of his chin, stepping forward - everyone immediately parted, making way for him. "Think about what I told you," he whispered quietly to Frank for the last time. "If I ever see something like that again or hear about it from a third party," he hissed as he walked past a trembling Camila. "I will choose an appropriate punishment," the woman's neck suddenly ached as did the rest of the hunters - the pain was as instantaneous as it was piercing like their heads had cut off their shoulders.

Walking on the wet asphalt, you felt a strange sense of nostalgia - it was so far away that you wouldn't have had a lifetime to reach it. It was like you were a teenager who had run away from home without your parents' permission or to be more precise - you had been shamelessly stolen. You looked back frantically, eyes wide open, trying to see your parents' pursuit, not noticing the beauty beneath your feet - the small, frequent puddles reflected the pink sunset, which was cut by the lines of wires, and if it weren't for the asphalt, which seeped through the bright colors with its gray dullness, you might have had the impression that you were walking straight through the sky.

The narrow streets of the apartment complexes changed to industrial areas, and the farther you walked, the stronger the smell of paint became. Gojo led you by the hand, silent, his face lacking a shred of guile. He seemed to be trying hard not to open his mouth like a secret was about to come out. Your lips tightened in confusion as you looked away from the sorcerer and tried to look around. There was no room for vegetation among the mesh fences, concrete blocks, and pallets - those trees that could hide you with their branches were far behind you. There were no lanterns to reassure you and make your presence welcome. Only the overhanging, bulky clouds that condescended to let the departing sun let its last rays pass through them remained unchanged wherever you went.

When Gojo stopped you just before the steel doors opened, the faint smell of clay hit your nose. The room looked cluttered, the painted bollards littered with smeared spatulas, scalpels, and strings, and the floor was covered with paint marks of many feet. Nevertheless, the ceiling was decorated with hanging triangular flags of all sorts of colors. At the end of the room was a rack, and on the rack were tiny sculptures. "Phew," Gojo breathed, bending over and putting his hands on his legs. "I had no idea it can be so difficult to be silent."

You chuckled softly. "For a moment there, I thought ya were gonna burst. So where are we?" he glanced at you, and then his tongue became tied again. The mystery had to remain a mystery until the very end. Raising your eyebrows at his silent countenance, you stepped closer to the rack. It wasn't sculptures at all; it was items that were molded from clay. Gold-painted plates, blue-framed molded cups, rose-kissed teapots.

"You know," Gojo began quietly, right above your ear. "When I brought the flowers, it turned out you only had one vase in the house," he joined you in looking at the saucer you were holding - it had tiny silver petals on it. "And I thought it would be nice to make at least one more." 

"Make?" you asked, laughing and clutching the saucer to your chest. "I mean, we could have just bought it."

"Do you even have a drop of the creator in you?" the sorcerer took offense, pouting his lips. " Material girl, that's what you are!"

"Welcome to our pottery studio," a ringing female voice greeted cordially. "You may call me Kaori."

You turned around and looked at the hostess, who looked cheerful as if she had been doing what she loved all her life. She was grimy from head to toe - her white apron was stained with clay just like her hands. Her black hair was in a high, sloppy bun, with dark strands sticking out of it in all directions. Glancing worriedly at the saucer you were still holding, you fidgeted to put it back on the rack. "I apologize."

"That's all right!" the woman declared cheerfully, clapping her hands. "On the contrary, it's a pleasure to have you interested. Everything you see here is the work of our previous guests," the hostess was still smiling radiantly, and glints of pride slipped through her mood. "You're the one with the date, aren't you?" she asked.

"Uh...," you drawled uncertainly, frowning. A slap sounded next to you, and you glanced furtively at Gojo, seeing his face hidden in the palm of his hand. "Yeah, well," you grinned softly, shrugging your shoulders. "It turns out we are." 

Kaori, a little confused and embarrassed by your contradictory actions, hesitated for a moment, but not wanting to lose face in front of her new guests, pushed all unnecessary thoughts aside. "Then please follow me," the hostess invited you into the workshop with a slight movement of her hand.

The same chaos reigned here as at the entrance, but it was more orderly and there was not a bit of repulsion in it. Workbenches that for years had been awkwardly covered with glaze and paint by clumsy hands, colorful jars on racks looked exactly like potions, there was no exquisite chandelier here - bare lamps connected by wire dangled from the workshop ceiling. "Here, please put these on," the woman handed you beige aprons.

"I hope ya happy," you giggled, tying the straps on your back.

"You have no idea how much," he teased joyfully, echoing your movements.

"Sorry, I haven't had time at all," the woman fussed, kicking a stool away from one of the workbenches. "I didn't quite have time to prepare," Kaori still continued to make excuses, but with enviable ardor and fire. She set up a small but wide bench instead of a stool. "Rarely do people choose places like this for dates," she winked at you, then glanced at Gojo, and you looked away in embarrassment.

After a brief instruction, Kaori politely offered to help, and she did so gently and casually like she was afraid to break the thin thread that connected the two people. "If you need anything, you can find me in the workshop next door," she said quietly, and with one last smile, she disappeared out the door.

You glanced around the lonely bench. "And what would that mean?" you asked sarcastically under your breath.

You thought your question was quiet, spoken only to you, but Gojo caught it. "You'll find out," he grinned slyly, putting his hands on your shoulders and forcing you down. 

You exhaled frantically before the unknown. You saw a potter's wheel and a large lump of clay already on it. On the sides were large bowls of water, a few scalpels, and there was even a string. You had been tried many times to instill a love of art, and perhaps you would have really loved it if it weren't for the conditions in which it was happening. Somehow now, looking at it all, you felt no disgust, just a slowly growing unease. What were you going to do about all this?

"Oop!" Gojo slumped behind you, your back pressed against his chest. "Well, you think you can make a vase with your mind alone?" he said, putting his arms around your shoulders.

"I just...," you began uncertainly, keeping your eyes on the lump of clay. "What am I supposed to do?" you whispered in panic, turning to him.

He was used to being a teacher. Gojo was not known for his careful and unhurried methods of teaching; rather, he was ready to throw a person who could not swim into the river. "Look under the table," he said. "See the pedal? Push it." 

There was indeed a small pedal with a wire under the table. "Is that for a potter's wheel or..."

"Push on!" taking advantage of your confusion, the sorcerer prodded you impatiently.

"Okay!" you exclaimed fearfully, and then you pressed the pedal and the potter's wheel began to turn. After watching the clay make a couple of leisurely turns, you took your foot off the pedal.

"There you go," Gojo smiled satisfied, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's taken care of. Now wet your hands," you hesitated a moment and dipped your hands into the bowl of water, a pleasant, almost tingling coolness immediately spreading through your body. "Well, we can work with this," he took your wet palms and applied them to the lump of clay. You watched, waiting for a miracle as his hands covered yours. But the miracle didn't happen. "Are we going to sit here all day?" he grinned. "Step on the pedal."

"Oh!" you cheered and started up the potter's wheel - it began to spin slowly, but even after a few dozen revolutions, the dry, raw material still wouldn't budge.

"Not enough water...," muttered the sorcerer, diluting the clay with a new portion of water - it became a little more manageable, but still stubbornly kept the same shape.

The thin line could rarely be found without a lot of effort, whether in communication, in thought or in creation. You couldn't walk on thin ice forever, brazenly expecting it to withstand everything and never crack. The waterfall you unleashed on the unfortunate lump of clay caused it to spill over into a puddle.

When you asked Kaori for new material, you were a little more painstaking. Sometimes you had the impression that you were not doing anything at all - your hands, soaked in clay, were just guiding. It felt strange to be guided, and the loss of control would have been alarming if it hadn't been for the vase gradually appearing in front of your eyes. Maybe you should have set aside your prejudices, erased the boundaries of submission and hammered a new word on your soul. Together. "Mochi," Gojo whispered, gently guiding your thumbs under the neck of the vase to outline the rim. "I've noticed that hunters always have the right to choose," he immediately wanted to apologize to you for prying unceremoniously into your head again, but the sorcerer restrained the impulse - only his muffled voice gave him away. "We just never had a tendency to do that, and you can decide for yourself if you wanna step on that road."  

You wondered. You'd grown up in an environment where a person's choices came before their abilities, whether they were outstanding or ordinary. "Ya really can't decide for yourself?" you asked quietly, and there was an embarrassed slip of sympathy in your voice.

"It's hard to say," Gojo grinned wistfully, squeezing your soiled hands a little. "They just start inoculating us to this world from childhood, training us, getting it into our heads that it's best not to have any dealings with civilians. For their own good," his hands soon became as grimy as yours. Small drops of clay flew from side to side at times, staining your aprons, clothes, and faces. "And when we grow up, we realize there's no turning back. You just don't know how to live any other way. So I was wondering... Why did you choose this road?" 

"Well...," you mumbled. You could have blamed it on your origins and closed the subject for good, but something was bursting out of you, and you couldn't hold it back. You wanted to tell him, to share everything that troubled and fascinated you, and in his arms. you felt that you could really do it without hesitation or fear of being ridiculed or misunderstood. "I'd be lying, sure, if I said I was interested in the fate of every person passing by," you smirked embarrassedly. "It's just... Um, I guess I just wanna protect humanity as a phenomenon itself."

"Phenomenon?" asked the sorcerer in surprise. "I've never thought of humans in that way before."

You turned around and gave him a squinted look. "What do ya think it takes to make humans appear?"

"Well... The first thing that immediately came to mind is that it needs the planet to be in the habitable¹ zone of its star, and to have a fairly circular orbit," Gojo shrugged uncertainly, and you only squinted your eyes more. "But judging by your sly face, that's not all."

"Nope," you shook your head and tried to calm yourself, for your excitement made your hands tense and the soft walls of the vase immediately went dangerously wobbly. If it weren't for Gojo guiding you the whole time, your creation would probably have crumpled back into an ugly lump of clay. "Not only are we in the habitable zone of our star, but our entire solar system is lucky enough to be in the habitable zone of an entire galaxy." 

"That's... not the most obvious idea," he frowned, glancing around the room as the walls seemed to collapse, and the sorcerer realized for a moment how vast the space was. "You know, as a teenager, I used to put tacks on the chair for nerds," he purred cheerfully, jokingly warning you. "You should get to worry about your a-"

"If that ever happens," you ruffled his hair with your over-soiled hand and got what you wanted - his heart almost stopped. "I'll find something weightier to put ya on. Or in ya."

"Did Rachel teach you words like that?" muttered Gojo suspiciously, momentarily forgetting about his hair - if it made you happy, he was happy, too.

"Maybe," you chirped cheerfully. "Anyway, it takes about 235-million years for our solar system to make one complete revolution around the center of the galaxy. Since the oceans appeared on Earth, it's made about seventeen such revolutions. Ya just imagine the scale," you laughed nervously. 

"Not the most relaxing flight," he drawled thoughtfully, imagining what hidden horrors the tiny planet might have encountered along the way, but surprisingly never faced.

"Yeah, it's cool," you shoved him back lightly as your emotions swept over you. It was like you were telling someone a mystery, and once you dropped the secret words for the first time, you couldn't stop. "The closer it gets to the center of the galaxy, the more black holes and neutron stars there are - they produce horrible annihilating X-rays and gamma rays, and also the more frequent the supernova outbreaks that occur nearby. Another encouraging thing, capable of destroying entire worlds many light years away. In general, too close to the center is bad, but too far away is also bad. Moving away from the center, the metallicity of stars decreases, and metals are essential for the formation of planets of the Earth group. It turns out that only about ten percent of the stars in the Milky Way are within the habitable zone of the galaxy, maybe even less."

In Gojo's hands was something fragile, completely in his power. He could mold whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to, he could just crumple the lump of clay and ask for a new one or abandon the idea altogether and walk away. But the process of creation fascinated him. How could something so unsightly and yielding only under certain conditions be made into something beautiful? The vase would remain fragile for the rest of his days, and the sorcerer would never know if something he had created would be overtaken by an all-destroying, mysterious force that would have no arms, no legs, no motive, it would only accidentally destroy something he held dear as it passed by. "We are lucky enough to be in the goldilocks² zone of our solar system, which in turn is lucky enough to be in the goldilocks zone of our galaxy. Both have a near-perfect circular orbit and are never too far from the center or too close to it. Also, the Milky Way represents a very rare case. Does the number 10 billion years mean anything to ya?"

"If I say no, you're not gonna send me for a retake, are you?" Gojo chuckled confusedly.

You were just glad for the fact that you were being listened to, and even if Gojo was only pretending, it still warmed your heart. "It's been about that long since our galaxy has collided with any other galaxy, which is why it's considered abnormally quiet. Well, not just because of that, sure, but still. Anyway, the whole trick is that most of the unthinkable coincidences are not out there, but almost right under our noses, in the solar system itself. If we look at all those glittering dots in the sky, as we get closer, we expect to see the same picture - just a huge glowing ball of gas, but more than half of the star systems in our galaxy are at least... Double. For example, our polar star isn't one star at all, it's a triple star system. Believe me, it does look impressive, but they're probably not habitable. The stability of planetary orbits in such systems is still questionable," you jerked, realizing that you'd pressed too hard on the soft wall of the vase - it was dented.

Sighing and gathering your thoughts, you began to more carefully observe what your hands were doing. "More than half of the stars kinda get canceled out at once. But even if there's only one star, that's no guarantee of stability. At the same time, our sun... Many people only talk about the sun being an ordinary star of which there are countless, but to date notwin stars with the same size, luminosity, temperature, age, and metallicity have been found. I wouldn't call the sun an absolute, but we can't just take a red giant and say that because it's bigger, it has a wider habitable zone. In fact, it's true, but the bigger the star, the more powerful its level of ultraviolet radiation, and it burns its fuel so quickly that life near it simply doesn't have time to be born. As for our lesser brothers... Red dwarfs do exist for an incredibly long time, just an unimaginable amount of time, but they are very cold and dim, and a planet with the potential to develop life needs to be incredibly close to such a star, and what would ya think? The planet would just get caught in a tidal trap, forever turning only one side to the star, well, like the Moon does to the Earth. So it would always be monstrously hot on one side of the planet and monstrously cold on the other, with a stellar wind on top of that," you turned around to see if Gojo was asleep.

Regardless, his eyes were open and he looked focused, whether he was listening to you or trying to get the right curves on the vase. "What about the arrangement of planets in our system? Is it even damn normal that we have four small rocky planets first followed by gas giants? Where did that spread come from? In most systems of the universe planets aren't very different from each other, and here we have a small Mercury, and, damn it, Saturn and Jupiter, and such gas giants are quite rare, and these few very rarely have stable, almost circular orbits so far from their star, and we have two of them! Who conjured up this configuration in the first place? It is this distribution of planets that gives us the advantage of a shield, for Jupiter very often draws away all the nasty cosmic debris that would probably sterilize our planet. If Jupiter, this huge giant with the strongest gravity, had… let's say, not round enough orbit, the solar system would look very different. And probably without us." 

Curses and cursed energy had been on the sorcerer's mind since childhood, and though he was able to defeat them, they still confused him, pulled him by the arms and led him astray, and at one point Gojo stopped realizing that the world was filled with more than just them. Curses were a threat to humanity, but how many dangers did people go through without realizing it? It was like a starting point - the notions of sorcerers and non-sorcerers, ranks, advantages, techniques and abilities blurred in his mind, and a single being with a unique destiny appeared before Gojo's eyes as a fleeting shadow. 

"And the earth's huge core?" you continued restlessly. "The earth has a larger one than expected for some reason. Perhaps it has something to do with our satellite. Look at the satellites of other planets - some have none at all, others are just gravity-captured asteroids. And our moon...," you sighed, charmed, thinking of the beauty that was far away from you. "The formation of such a satellite is a mystery itself, and the lunar rock samples are too much like Earth's crust in composition. There is a legend among intelligent people... Oh, sorry, a theory," you were babbling so fast that Gojo didn't have time to ask, clarify, correct, admire, or doubt. "Theory about Theia. Theia is a supposed planet the size of Mars that once collided with our Earth, and on impact Theia's core and mantle mixed with Earth's ones, and the debris from the impact formed our Moon – beside controlling the tides, it contributes to Earth's strong magnetic field that protects us from cosmic radiation. Some evidence suggests that Theia may have formed in the outer solar system³ and most of Earth's water originated there. We may have two planets under our feet, and the oceans we are looking at may not have originated there. Also, the impact has given the Earth a particular axial tilt and a fast rate of rotation... Oh yeah, remember to count all those factors in your head because if you exclude even one, it's unlikely we'd be doing this right now."

You grimaced, trying not to laugh at the sight of your vase - it looked more like a child's handiwork than the efforts of two grown persons. "This rate of rotation reduces daily temperature fluctuations and makes photosynthesis viable, and the axial tilt shouldn't be too large - a planet with such a tilt will experience extreme seasonal climate fluctuations, and if the planet has too small axial tilt, the planet will have no seasons, which... uh, this is gonna sound ridiculous, but it will lead to a lack of stimulus for evolution. So if we find a planet somewhere in the universe with paradisiacal conditions, we probably won't find life on it. It's just not needed there. On such a planet, there are no difficult survival tasks to be solved. Contrasts are needed everywhere, but the negative conditions shouldn't be too negative, for life is a fragile thing after all. No one knows what the ratio is, though," you scrunched your nose in thought, lost in your own chatter, forgetting that you were up to your elbows in clay. The vase was almost done, and though it had visible imperfections and small dents, and the neck was a little tilted sideways, you didn't care a bit - you were fascinated and mesmerized by the process itself. "Let's say we did find a twin planet somewhere out there in space with the right atmosphere and a large satellite, within the habitable zone of a star and galaxy, there are gas giant defenders. What's next?" you sounded so indignant to Gojo like something that had already happened several billion years ago had never happened at all, which was why you were puffing so irritably now. "I don't know how to justify or explain this case, but the first brick of life that started all further evolutionary processes is called a replicator," you answered your own question. "But the first replicator must have appeared here by chance. Think about it - a system that can replicate itself must have appeared here by chance. Even if we don't go into further details, which are unbelievable... Not just unlikely, but exactly unbelievable, like, for example, an archaea cell that consumed a bacterium and for some reason didn't digest it, and thus created the first mitochondrion, and then at once the energy problem was solved and the possibility for unimpeded complication of life appeared. Anyway... How did the mind get here? We have some known criteria for a habitable planet, we have some known factors for the origin of life on Earth, but no one yet knows the reasons why the mind should have emerging. There are so many living beings on our planet, some are irretrievably gone, some are still living, and even if ya take the same dolphins, whose brains are similar in shape and size to ours... As some very smart guy said, 'dolphins have had about 20 million years to build a radio telescope-'" 

"And have not done so," Gojo finished embarrassedly for you. 

"How do ya...?" you exhaled in amazement, turning to him again.

Even when the vase was created, Gojo never removed his hands. On the contrary, squeezing your palms, he gently pressed your intertwined fingers against your apron. "Heard it somewhere, I think," Gojo said evasively, remembering flipping through all the books that had been left lying on your desk after your disappearance. He'd run his eyes over the lines without much thought or analysis, and he'd never go back to the lines he'd never understood.  

"I've only told ya some of the facts that are on the surface, but how much more remains hidden from our eyes? I know that all of this can be argued one way or another, but it is important to remember that this is not a recipe for creating life. It's a recipe for creating people. On the one hand, I realize," you whispered guiltily, snuggling into his neck. "That I'm just speculating based on what I've seen through the keyhole, but on the other...," the warmth of his body drowned into your own, melting away all courage and making you speak even more quietly. "Ya know, it may be a miracle to everyone else that ya came into this world as a strongest sorcerer with the techniques of six eyes and infinity, but to me, the miracle is that ya came into this world as a human."

The words he'd heard from a thousand curses rang in Gojo's head. 'We are better. We are stronger. We are more intelligent. We are superior to humans in all things.' - but where would these devils of hell end up if humans had never had the chance to live?   

In the midst of this eternal flight of a small planet through an empty, unfriendly and boundless something, floating through time that didn't exist and horrors unknown to anyone, a random life suddenly appeared - the sorcerer realized that you started stepping towards each other billions years ago, and even though you came from a different side, still you were here, ready to accept his every ridiculous scheme. 

Humans had created what Gojo had fought against all his life. Now, thinking about it, his mind emphasized not fighting and running, not blood and loss, but something else. The sorcerer saw himself from the distance - his movements, his breathing, and the way his eyes flooded into the vast blue sky. He could no longer distinguish his motives - Gojo was completely oblivious to them, and they were immediately replaced by yours. Who did he have to thank for being on the same endless stretch of time with you? Or had no one had a hand in it, and even chance had its own probability? If so, it couldn't be justified by mere coincidence or even magic, which had long been commonplace for him. You ended up being right. It was a miracle. 

Gojo gently placed his clay-stained hand on your cheek. You shuddered, either from the chill or from surprise, and looked up at Gojo, and the world around you froze with you. You were staring at him with open eyes, his clay fingerprints were on your face - or rather on the visible part of it - and there was no better proof that he had touched you once.  

The magic of the halted moment was dispelled by your wry smile. "Payback!" you exclaimed, squeezing Gojo's cheeks with your grimy hands. You were a little concerned when he didn't resist you - on the contrary, he sat obediently and quietly, letting you do whatever you wanted with him. "Ya okay?" 

"Well, kinda...," Gojo sighed quietly, looking away - he was afraid that in his shameless eyes you'd see the pictures he'd drawn. Those marks he'd just left on you weren't just on your cheeks. What would they look like on your neck? On your collarbones? And how would his handprints look under your breasts? No matter how soon the wet clay dried on your body, Gojo would keep kissing you relentlessly, panting, even on the verge of passing out. He was still thinking slowly and confusedly, his eyes blurring to the point where the floor and the ceiling were swapped. Remembering that you were sitting close to him, Gojo slowly rose from the bench. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcibly erasing the images of tenderness intertwined - what if you had already sensed his desire? Nobara had been right after all. He really was the complete pervert. "There's been a bit of a revaluation of values," he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his burning skin. "I'm gonna go see Kaori. I'll tell her we're done and she'll put the vase in the oven. Be right back."  

"Eh?" you bluntly blurted out, turning around and only catching a glimpse of the snow-white curls. Dazed, you frowned your eyebrows harder in bewilderment. What did his words mean? What were those values anyway? You were only more nervous as you wondered what had made Gojo jump up and run away from you. It didn't seem unusual, but it was the first time he looked so lost and wished he could get out of your sight sooner. Or was it the other way around, that he just didn't want to see you? Against your will, the recent events began to spontaneously replay before your eyes. Maybe the sorcerer was tired of your chatter? 'Don't get too worked up,' you thought, rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, but the wonderful time you'd had with him replaced by his almost fleeing silhouette, jabbed you again, unpleasantly close to your heart. Maybe you did say something wrong? 'He was just asking about motivation, and ya just starting up again,' you pouted, resentful of yourself. 

You waited obediently for a minute. You humbly waited two more. You didn't move even when ten minutes had passed. You realized that if you sat like that for a moment longer, you would turn into a lump of clay, and your thoughts would mold you into something disturbing and then laughingly crush you. Gojo was standing there in the hallway, talking quietly on the phone. You couldn't tell which of you had the more distraught face. 

Noticing you, the sorcerer paused half-heartedly and said a careless goodbye to the caller, ruffling his hair with an irritated motion of his hand. "What's wrong?" you asked, stepping closer to him.

"The date will have to end there," he said guiltily, rubbing the back of his head. "Work calls."

"What?" you muttered frustratedly. "What about the vase? We haven't even painted it yet-"

"Oh, how lovely!" the sorcerer cooed, wrapping you in a tight embrace. "Are you really that upset?" masking his own resentment at the unfair world, he continued to smile slyly. "Don't worry, I'll arrange a thousand more."

"That's what stresses me out-"

"You know, I really liked it," Gojo whispered, ignoring your joking quip. "And don't worry about the vase... I warned Kaori that we'll pick it up in a couple days," you pulled away from him, but you were already standing on the doorstep of Frank's house instead of the workshop. "Also, next time I'll be more romantic and walk you home humanely," noticing your dazed look, Gojo continued tease, flirting. It frightened you that you couldn't tell the fine line between his frivolous flirtations anymore. He'd be better off if there was no truth to them. Time didn't exist when you were with Gojo, and events came one after another, erasing cause and effect, and though you'd been taught to run, you were sometimes unable to catch up with him. You came to your senses when you felt an unobtrusive, instant pain in the bridge of your nose. You glanced warily at the sorcerer. He had just shamelessly bitten your nose. "Bun tasting!" he laughed, satisfied that he had brought you out of your state of confusion. Nothing dared distract you from him. "I'll go, Mochi," there was no longing in his voice, but it slipped into his playful kiss on your hand. 

"Are ya gonna go just like that?" you shouted back. Gojo remained grimy, wearing a dirty apron and with your handprints on his face. "What will the others think?"

"Honey, if I cared what other people thought of me, I'd have drowned myself in the river a long time ago!" he shouted back, moving farther and farther away from you.

"If anything, it's nearby!" you prodded him, but got no response - you couldn't even see his smile from here anymore.

You kept looking at him, and that nickname warmed you despite the fading sun. How long had it been since anyone had called you that? How long had it been since you'd heard that word? And why had it come to Gojo's mind? You paused at the beginning of the path up the hill, coming down from the porch, wanting to capture his image even though his back was to you. He came down slowly and unconcernedly, deliberately helping you burn out and fringe his outline to stay in your mind forever. 

Gojo would have teleported. He wouldn't have wasted his precious time, and he would have been in the right place in the world, but he could feel you staring at him. A feeling that was frightening in its intrusiveness, and one he was ready to cling to if it ever thought of leaving. Your images drifted inexorably away from each other, but memories, like a reliable companion, connected you again, wherever you were. When Gojo turned around at the foot of the hill, he saw only your silhouette standing against the sunlight. Strangely, he couldn't make out your eyes, your face, your hair color, or your clothes, but even in another lifetime he would have unmistakably known it was you. Your image waved at him, and Gojo waved back embarrassedly. "See ya," he whispered to your shadow in farewell.   

You took off your shoes nervously in the hallway, trying to do it as quietly as possible, all the while thinking that it would have been more practical and safer to crawl into your room through the window. There was no rustling or fussing in the kitchen, but you could smell the subtle smell of roasting meat. Frank had been here recently, cooking dinner, but had he come into your room? Had he noticed you were missing? You quickly pulled your phone out of your pocket, and after making sure there were no messages from the man, you exhaled frantically. The lack of obvious signs of his awareness didn't mean Frank didn't suspect anything. You, carefully making your way through the kitchen like a minefield, glanced out the window. There was no sign of anyone in the garden, which gave you a new wave of burning anxiety. Sensing something wrong, you bit your lip. You walked around the dining table unable to find an appetite even though your stomach was rumbling. You had to get rid of all the evidence.

You quickly went up to your room and threw your clothes off as quickly as possible, kicking them under the bed. You put on your pajamas and jumped up to the mirror. The very thought of having to wash Gojo's handprints off your face had your soul on a hook, and the more you looked at them, the more the inevitable tugged at the fishing line. Gently running your fingers over the cracked clay, you felt the warmth of the sorcerer despite his cold absence. His unexpected behavior in the workshop had confused you, but afterward he'd acted as he usually did - was that a reason to worry? 

Shaking your head and shrugging away the image of him that suddenly jumped up, you headed for the bathroom to wash away the evidence of how willful and frivolous daughter you'd been. The clay flowed reluctantly and almost painfully down the walls of the sink, and you rinsed off one mask and immediately put on another. Obedience and reasonableness.

Your stomach whined again, and you clutched at it, whimpering unhappily. In the future, you'd still be willing to sign up for any of Gojo's ventures, but only if he fed you. Frank had always taught you that appetite comes with the eating, and you went back to the kitchen.

There was a freshly cooked dinner in the oven, and the fridge was bursting with food. There were berries, fruits, vegetables, cheeses and bacon, even fish - smoked or fresh. Lazily examining the contents of the refrigerator, your hand involuntarily reached for the yogurt. The front door slammed, and thinking Frank had come in, you shut your eyes, ready for a likely lecture if you failed or even a heated argument. You felt the guest stop next to the dining table, but the figure, though tall, was still not the same as Frank's. Opening a squeezed eye and glancing in that direction, you swallowed your own heart that someone had kindly removed from your chest. Closing the refrigerator door quietly and nodding uncertainly in greeting, you clumsily made your way to the stairs.

"Adoptee, wait," Rachel stopped you, and you were taken aback. "I...," she continued confusedly, expecting you to turn to her. "I brought chocolate milk," she got what she wanted - you were now facing your sister, but you still hadn't made a move to meet her. "It's not even poisoned," the girl smiled weakly. Her words came together fragilely, and the blade of clear tears was ready to shatter them.

"Uh… Can ya braid me?" you asked timidly, not moving.

"Yeah," she whimpered, pressing her hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her fingers as they poured down her cheeks in a relentless, graceful river. "Yeah, I can."

While you were looking for rubber bands all over the house, the kitchen suddenly smelled like caramel popcorn. You were ready to punch your own stomach for it like it were a separate entity, began to resent you in such a way that it seemed to be heard in the next house. When you came downstairs, the coffee table was already littered with soda cans, chips, marmalade wrappers, and candy bars of every taste and color. As you stared at it all, your stomach quieted abruptly as if it wanted you to forget about its hunger.

Rachel wasn't here, though the TV was playing. Sighing, you sat down on the floor by the coffee table and put down the hard-to-find rubber bands. Just as you opened a candy bar and popped it in your mouth, the door swung open, hitting the wall. "Here I am!" exclaimed Rachel, holding a huge bucket of spicy chicken wings. "Still hot," she told you, wrinkling her nose in delight and placing the bucket in front of you.

When she plopped down on the couch, you moved closer to your sister, sitting right between her legs. She began to brush your hair, deliberately touching the back of your head with the tines of her hairbrush - you shivered, feeling tingles all over your body. Rachel suppressed a chuckle, thinking of how you looked like a puppy with its belly scratched each time.

Rachel gently tousled your strands and weaved them with skill - she'd been doing it like a pro since she was a little girl, ever since she'd had a hairbrush in her hand. You'd never once squeaked in your entire life simply because you'd never felt a tugging or burning sensation on your scalp - your hair felt like it was being pulled by the wind, not human fingers. "How did that happen?" your sister asked quietly, suddenly.

"What do ya mean?" you asked drowsily.

"How did ya kill that bastard?" she asked louder. There was no demand in her voice, only a desire to satisfy her anger. "Did he suffer?"

You sighed tiredly and opened the can of soda, which immediately hissed at you. "I wouldn't say his death was so slow and painful," you said, wrinkling your face in annoyance. "But I told him I'd kill his daughter, and afterward I made him choose between dick or heart."

"Let me guess," she laughed ringingly. "Did that asshole pick a dick?"

"Uh-huh," you chuckled quietly, sipping from the can.

She sighed heavily - you didn't laugh with her. "Come on, adoptee," the girl tried to cheer you up. "The bastard deserved it."

"What about Ravona?" you asked confusedly, making Rachel feel the slumbering guilt again, the one that had reminded Rachel that she had a hand in your madness too. Without thinking about the consequences of the disaster, she'd faced them head-on, and only now had the sense to drop the rope she'd always used to tug at you.

"Do ya remember how she kept looking at us?" she snorted quietly. "I'd rip that bitch's hair out myself."

"Well... Ripping out the hair and ripping out the heart aren't the same thing," you muttered sarcastically.

Rachel, because of her own desires, which had no ends or logical completions, almost left you both alone. Her intentions were deaf and blind, and if she'd drowned them in alcohol before, making them flutter and sink, now her sober head was generating new desires and drawing clear paths to them - albeit paths that led to the unknown, but now she knew for sure: you were a family despite your unusual differences. You'd started this together, and if there was an end to it, you had to stay together until it.

"Rach...," you drawled, weighing the significance of your own words. "Have ya ever wondered why Dany was there?"

"Dunno," Rachel shrugged, continuing to braid your hair. "Those assholes wanted to assign her a mission?"

Doubt, sprinkled on top of worry, tried to overpower you in an unfair fight - you felt the sting of conscience at every thought that Rachel might snap again if you voiced your assumptions, and though you backed down every so often, you rarely lost. "Yoichi said she was the one who leaked all the information about us to him. Right down to the fact that Kyle went on the raid that day instead of me. At the time, I was a little... Um, I was a little nonplussed at his words, but now I'm sitting here remembering how Dany blamed herself before. I thought she was blaming herself for the rape, but I'm kinda uneasy."

Her hands froze in your hair, and you tightened your lips in anticipation. "Those fucking scums," she hissed, but despite her righteous anger, it didn't affect you as she continued to gently braid your hair. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, and your confusion was left to your own judgment, for you had expected her to be angry with Danielle. "Taking advantage of a little girl just to mess us up big time."

"And they almost succeeded," you muttered, remembering what you'd been through. It seemed to you that the death of a loved one and the hatred of other was staring enviously at you, baring its teeth and preparing to attack you again. "I just can't get why she did that."

"Hunters have never shied away from resorting to dirty methods to achieve their own ends," she sighed, taking the soda from you with one hand and sipping from your it.

"But we're voidrunners," you said thoughtfully, trying to scratch the back of your head, for which you received a slap on the arm.

"We are," Rach agreed. "Dany still isn't. Stupid, of course, but maybe that's why she decided to get back at us."

"That's not like her," you countered, wrinkling your nose in frustration. "I'm starting to feel she was just intimidated... Only how, and if that's really the case, why didn't she tell us anything?"

"Look, no offense," she brushed it off. "But she's had the 'I'll do it all myself' example in front of her eyes for most of her conscious life. So why do ya think she didn't say anything?" you buried your face in your hands and collapsed your head right at your sister's feet. "Hey! I'm not done yet!"

"Ya...," you hesitantly began, swallowing. "Ya're not mad at her?"

"And ya?" she asked defiantly, hurt that you were inadvertently making her look unstable with your question. "Look, it's her fault for leaking the info, it's my fault for getting drunk and calling ya with complaints, it's your fault for going for me, and it's Kyle's fault... It's his fault for being born a good-hearted and ever-helpful fool and offering to go that day instead of ya. So if it's everyone's fault... It turns out it's no one's fault."

"Maybe ya're right," you said quietly, sighing. "Dany can't stay with us," you said, reluctantly raising your head. "It's not even a matter of trust here, it's her mental health. When she comes to her senses, she'll decide whether she wants to continue or not," biting your lip, you reflected - Danielle really has been through a lot, but she still hasn't been able to stand up for herself. "Ya know, though... I don't think she's gonna be a voidrunner with that kinda personality."

"That's true, adoptee," she muttered, concentrating on securing the braids with rubber bands. "But it's not for us to decide for her."

"I feel like I need to talk to her," you admitted embarrassedly. "After all, she did see another side of me that day," Rachel looked at you sympathetically, pressing her lips together in frustration - it wasn't long ago that she herself wanted you to let go and lose control of your emotions. "But I dunno how to face her yet."

"Ya won't be able to avoid each other forever," your sister tried to assure you. "So it's gonna happen sooner or later, whether ya want it to or not."

"Thanks!" you hissed, slapping her thigh. "Calmed me the hell down." 

You both flinched when something rustled on the stairs to the second floor. When you looked up, you saw Frank sitting at the top of the stairs, sighing in fascination as he watched you. You both shrank and, blushing embarrassedly, pretended you were just watching the show. Rachel nonchalantly brushed away your braids that she had just finished weaving. Coughing, she grabbed a can of soda and opened it and flopped down on the back of the couch.

It didn't help; the steps creaked dangerously, heralding the approaching loving typhoon. "My girls!" hiccupped the man, almost sobbing, raking the two of you in his arms. You, with dazed eyes, miraculously ended up on the couch.

"Dad," Rachel squeezed out, feeling her eyes almost fall out of her orbits.

"Frank," you wheezed, feeling like your ribs were about to break.

"Oh, thank goodness!" he exclaimed heartily, kissing the top of your heads. "At last ya are together again," his parental heart would never heal from the loss of one child, but at least it had stopped bleeding now that his daughters were reunited. "Let's go to the table, it's not a food," he said, wincing and nodding toward your snacks. Before you could even squeak, his hands were literally dragging you over to the table. You and Rachel looked at each other awkwardly, and when Rachel wheezed, holding back laughter, you pressed your lips together and poked her in the side to shut her up.

Banging the pots around, the man placed plates of recently prepared dinner in front of you. "Food will solve all problems," he stated firmly, taking a seat across from you. "So what were ya two talking about?"

"About Dany," you said, stuffing your cheeks with meat, popping tomato slices into your mouth.

"Oh," Frank shook his head sullenly. "I may sound like an asshole now, but ya did the right thing. Though ya didn't hold back at some points," he gave you a reproachful look.

"Dad," Rachel hissed, pushing the mushrooms back to the edge of her plate. "When did ya get so soft? They deserve it and that's that. There's nothing to discuss morality or the condition of the adoptee. They brought it on themselves."

"Young lady, watch your tongue," Frank clucked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am still the head of the family."

"Bitch please," Rachel grumbled, waving his words away. "Ya're just an old man who falls asleep after every weeded bed. Get over it," you glared at your sister fearfully and began chewing your food with great effort. Rach looked dazedly at her hand that had placed the fork on the table and then slapped Rachel herself on the forehead. "Dad!" she blurted out indignantly.

"Say that again," Frank asked unkindly, tapping his finger defiantly on his forearm.

"I get it," whimpered the girl, rubbing her forehead.

"That's right," the man hummed contentedly. "And ya," when he turned to you, you almost choked. "Anything ya wanna say?"

All the sins you'd committed flashed before your eyes, and you even remembered how you'd cut his hair as a child one sweltering summer because the man had complained about the unbearable heat. You tried not to move; you thought that if you lifted a finger, sweat would immediately pour off you. Had he found out that you had run out of the house today? Did he really know you well enough to read your face? Slowly finishing your meal, you were caught swallowing your food loudly. "Did ya really only lose your temper over Dany, or is there something else?" asked Frank forehead.

"Uh...," you drawled dumbly, slamming your eyes shut. "Okay, take it any way ya want," you sighed, splaying your hands. "Yoichi cooperated with the wrong creatures," at your father's surprised look, you only nodded affirmatively. "Exactly with the creatures. One of the demons is pretty well ensconced in Christian's body," you said evasively, keeping quiet and not saying his name. It wouldn't do them any good anyway. "Yoichi supplied him with people through his club, and I also think that demon had something to do with Kyle's death, maybe he ordered Yoichi to pressure Dany and tell her to make sure anyone but me went on the raid that day with Megumi," you suggested. "Anyway, that demon paid off our deceased friend pretty well."

"How long has that thing been pretending to be one of us?" muttered Frank, rubbing his chin.

"I have no idea," you said, hiding your anxiety. Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath. If only you knew. "Anyway, the demon escaped," you spat out, remembering how Rei had merged with the air and left you alone without a fight.

Now Frank could no longer look at you with judgment and reproach; he felt a satisfaction that, by its wrongness, clouded his common sense. "Serves him right," Frank summed up in one word. "Oh, it's gonna be hard on Nathaniel and Ellie now..."

"Come on, that old hag already got dementia," Rachel said indignantly. "So Nael's the only one left to deal with all this."

You finished your dinner in silence, and Frank, blaming it on his bad back, went back to his bedroom, leaving you alone with the dirty dishes. Rachel scrubbed the baking tray of grease with a coarse washcloth while you scrubbed the oven from the inside. An unobtrusive song played softly from your sister's phone - it gave you morale and made you occasionally rub the walls in time with the music.

When the two of you muffled in unison on the chorus, you grinned at the same time. With a soft kick in the butt, you climbed out of the oven, stood up, and started to help your sister with the dishes. She glanced uncertainly in your direction as you scrubbed the plate to a shine, hoping you were thinking the same thing. Now it was your turn. "Adoptee."

"Yeah?"

"It's time for us to get back to work."

"Rach, there's only three of us," you shook your head, biting your lip disappointedly. "Remember how we worked back then. Our bodies didn't even have time to recover between raids."

"There's actually four of us," she reminded you, raising an eyebrow.

"I will not send Megumi alone into the void," you stated firmly, setting your plate on the shelf with a clink.

"If we don't make him a voidrunner, then consider Kyle dead for nothing," as soon as you opened your mouth to protest, she stomped her foot and immediately began gibbering excitedly. "Think about it! We're not gonna enter the void alone anymore, it'll be four of us! So what if it's gonna be different every time we go in there? What the hell difference does it make if we run thousands of miles in search of a settlement or if we just change everything with our entry-exit? Sooner or later our luck will smile on us and we'll be right where we need to be. Everything else we'll do according to the standard - four of us go in, run for three days, four of us go back in, and that's it. And that's it until we find what we're looking for."

In another life, you would have sat down and talked to everyone involved in your case. You would have listened to all the theories, suggestions and assumptions and made a decision that suited everyone. But now you were all getting too caught up in the moment - it was uncharacteristic of people that all their conscious lives had been used to running. It was time to replace indecision with action, to unleash claws and teeth and dark energy - and even though it was all rash, it was better than continuing to stand still. "Deal."

[October 21, 2020, 11:52pm, hunters' hq, training field]

Each of you had to choose your own guiding star when you set foot on this path. Thirst for blood, thirst for revenge, thirst for adventure - each of you ran along your own way, and though it was different, you always moved forward hand in hand. The farther you went, the brighter your guides shone in the sky of life - big and small, they illuminated the way in life, in dreams and in other worlds. Wherever you went, wherever you looked, everything was illuminated by the light of motives and hopes, and that radiance, spilling over the vast expanses, reached your hearts, making them tremble and beat fast.

Preparations for the next raid were almost complete - the four of you were standing in the field, checking your belts and gear. It had been agreed that since you were no longer traveling alone, one of you could carry a backpack with water and a small amount of food - a fate that fell on Megumi's shoulders as the most inexperienced. More than once there had been nagging arguments about hazing on his part, but in the end he was only too glad when he had the opportunity to take at least one sip of water in the void - it was always icy cold and piercing to the bone, but it was far better than dying of dehydration.

Rachel smoked nonchalantly while you and Issu shoved high-calorie bars, water bottles, and a few self-heating packs into the backpack on Megumi's back. With each new raid, you were getting more and more back in shape, and Megumi was just gaining it - the boy was getting better at tolerating the eerie cold of the void. "Did ya bring cigarettes?" asked Rachel, shamelessly rummaging through the backpack.

"Yeah," you said, shoving her aside.

"Uh-oh," she grinned meaningfully behind your backs, rubbing her palms together. "Here comes your wifey to see ya off."

Before you knew it, you and Megumi were in a tight, almost bone-breaking embrace. "Every time is like seeing you off to war!" lamented Gojo, sobbing dramatically. "You," he glared sternly at you. "Keep an eye on Megumi," his sternness fell on the boy after those words. "And you keep an eye on her. Is that clear?" something rattled under your ear, and you squinted - did he really bring the same things this time too? 

"At least you'd change the tune," Megumi muttered, grudgingly grimacing his face and breaking out of his embrace.

"So how else do you suggest I express my love if he acts like this no matter what I say or do?" the sorcerer asked you, pouting his lips.

"Ya're aware that love is supposed to be selfless, right?" you laughed. Gojo only snorted. Having lived side by side with you since only a short time, he was well aware of that. "Don't tell me ya brought it... again," you began hesitantly, trying to see what he was holding in his hand. 

"Sure I did!" exploded Gojo and grabbed Megumi by the scruff of the neck. The boy glared angrily at the teacher over his shoulder, but the sorcerer, ignoring Fushiguro, opened his backpack and shoved a dozen wristwatches into it. "I've synchronized and checked everything, so don't thank me!" he zipped up the backpack in one motion and nudged Megumi in the back with his hands. 

"Is this really necessary?" you asked confusedly.

"Definitely," he patted you on the shoulder, grinning through his teeth. "Thanks to someone, I'm now psychologically traumatized," the smile disappeared from his face like on cue - Gojo immediately took on a serious look. "Mochi, I might be joking every time I see you off," he put his arms around you again, resting his forehead against yours - he had to bend down every time. "But every time, I remember how you...," the sorcerer swallowed, trying to banish the wistful expression on his face - it was like he was back in the day you never came home. "Take care of yourself. And keep an eye on my little brat, 'kay?"  

"Okay," you nodded, taking his arms, letting him know you had to go. Unwillingly letting you go, the sorcerer staggered backward, not looking away from you. 

"Hey, have ya two had enough of talking?" asked Rach sarcastically, coming up to you and shoving you with her shoulder. "Ya're making me sick to my stomach!"

"Jealous?" you ask, grinning.

"Maybe," she teased, showing her tongue.

In or out of battle, Gojo saw many exciting things. Colors that were beyond the reach of ordinary person, shimmering and sparkling, sweeping his enemies into dust and then into ashes. He saw the graceful movements with which his students or colleagues overpowered their foes, how deftly and quickly the blades pierced their guts. The crimson sunsets and golden dawns of each imminent day, which Gojo had seen long ago with his impressionable childish eyes, paled before the four silhouettes.

The four shadows were nameless in the twilight, made human only by the evening breeze that played with their dark hair - they had no colors, no graceful movements, their faces refused to be illuminated by the early sunset. Suddenly, the evening sky was shrouded in dark clouds, the shadows faded, and Gojo involuntarily hugged himself, shivering from the cold of the north wind. 

Thinking about what it would be like to find himself not in front of these shadows, but among them, Gojo covered his eyes with his hand, shielding them from the purple flash.

"Relocate."

You immediately looked at Megumi - he was no longer clutching his chest, feeling a burning sensation in his lungs. He was standing straight, chin raised like defying the purple horizon. You raised an eyebrow in bewilderment as a smoldering cigarette butt fell near your feet. Rachel, only now putting on her respirator, winked at you defiantly. "So?" she asked slyly, stretching. "Which way this time?"

Looking around, you didn't notice anything remarkable - there was just the usual vast expanse of dark sands. "Hell knows. Any ideas?"

Rach, sighing, jerked one of her arms down. "Issu, turn your thing on!" 

"Observation."

Hundreds of images flashed before your eyes - you saw through the eyes of the loners that roamed the area where the ability was spreading. It was the same emptiness without signs of life, and there was no hint of habitation anywhere. No footprints, no corpses. "Fine," Rachel kicked the sand in frustration. "Let's go, then."

As soon as you nodded, it was like you were let off the leash and rushed forward. Rachel was always trying to get ahead, her silhouette flashing in the light of the horizon, then fading. You kept glancing at Issu and Megumi. While the former endured the stress without difficulty, the latter would occasionally stumble in the sand whether from fatigue or habit, and you would grab Fushiguro's elbow to pull him back into line.

How many have this place taken, how many buried corpses have you run over? The emptiness did not spare the weak, and it mocked the brave and strong even more, not giving them the honor of bowing their heads - it simply chopped them down mercilessly. You stomped the sand relentlessly as if death itself were stepping on your heels - you looked back with excitement, giggling uncontrollably to yourself.

When Megumi stopped, so did you - giving Issu the go-ahead to run to Rachel, you took off Fushiguro's backpack and pulled out a bottle of water. He took off his respirator, took a quick sip and put his mask back on - the boy didn't even realize how cold that water was at first, only coughing a few seconds later. Patting him on the back, you waited for him to straighten up again. Wrapping your hands around his face, you sighed uneasily - Megumi was colder than a corpse in the morgue. Embarrassed, he nodded, letting you know he was ready to continue.

You slowed down, letting the boy exhale a little. Your eyes began to glaze over with an endless purple glow, which only made you more annoyed - your soul wanted to speed up, but you obediently kept your pace, letting Megumi run ahead of you. You'd spent quite a bit of your conscious life in this place, and Megumi had only recently started, but was already running on par with you all. Humming contentedly to yourself under your breath, you leveled up with him. When he looked at you questioningly, you winked, not noticing how his cold cheeks were flushed - it was unusual for a person who had been on his own since childhood to be silently concerned.

Megumi, not wanting to give in to any of you, sped up his run, bringing up swirls of black sand behind him. Surprisingly, this place gave not only heavy thoughts of the enslaved and killed - the faster the boy ran, the more he felt freedom, that cold air picked up his fatigue and carried it away. He involuntarily felt like a master in a foreign boundless expanse, and if anyone disagreed with him, let them catch him first.

At first, the image of Issu still running ahead appeared, but after a moment, the light of the horizon revealed Rachel, who stood motionless, her palm over her eyes, looking at something. You and Megumi looked at each other in bewilderment.

Stopping beside your sister, Megumi, feeling the cold air release him and return his fatigue, crouched down and tried to catch his breath. Issu silently unzipped the backpack and pulled out a bottle of water and a self-heating pack. You, on the other hand, started to gaze in the same direction as your sister - gradually a corpse appeared before your eyes that was almost buried under the sand. "Can ya feel it too?" she asked. It wasn't until you stopped and caught your breath that you felt your skin begin to tingle. It warmed. "I told ya we'd get lucky today!" she exclaimed contentedly.

"Ya lying," you grudgingly gritted out. "Ya didn't say anything like that!"

You immediately received a slap on the forehead. "Shut up," she muttered through a happy smile.

Rubbing the sore spot and pouting resentfully, you stepped away from your sister, trying to see something in that boundless veil - it was still a hostage to the unchanging color, afraid to show you anything but empty land. The two of you nodded wordlessly in agreement, and, taking your companions under your arms, you headed in opposite directions.

You glanced back and watched as Rachel and Issu moved away from you, then turned around again. Megumi was walking beside you, he kept turning his head from side to side like a bloodhound, which made you grin. Sooner or later, he'd learn to rely on his inner senses, not just his surroundings.

The farther you went, the colder it got. You felt another slap, and with a frustrated sigh, you took Megumi's arm and steered you away from your intended course. Despite the icy air, it was only getting stuffier - you could hear the boy next to you breathing heavily and glancing at you, probably to make sure he wasn't the only one who felt out of place. You both knew that as soon as you stopped, the hands of those places would only clench tighter around your necks. "Hold on for a little longer," you muttered, your gaze trying to find Rachel and Issu. "We'll find it soon."

As you went down the small hill and found yourself in a low place, you were shaken by an unpleasant feeling - it seemed that there were some unfriendly faces about to appear from above. A little way forward on a gentle rise, you found yourself once more in the midst of a plain. This place was always intended to make the wanderer feel that he was walking in circles.

"Found it!" with a sudden shout, Rachel threw herself at you, knocking you both to the ground. You almost rolled down the slope, but you were stopped by Issu - he rolled his eyes and silently grabbed both of you by the scruff of your neck. "Let's go quickly!" she yanked your arm hard, forcing you to run after her - your shoulder miraculously didn't crunch.

As the first barracks appeared on the horizon, your heart whimpered involuntarily. You remembered the blurred images of the once good friends who had brightened your imprisonment and whom you had promised to lead out of this place and into their old world, but that shaky vow had been shattered by the death of a stalwart person, leaving those people behind forever. Biting your lip, you kept running after your sister toward new hearts, dedicating yours to those black sands - even if that dedication would soon turn into a funeral, you had no time to feel sorry for yourself or those forever left behind.

As you ran up to the barracks, Rachel caught sight of the overseer standing on the roof and giggled quietly - at that moment you realized that she was about to let go of your hand. And so it happened: in the blink of an eye, the girl, being on the roof, immediately tore his flesh in the area of the another heart with her hand - with her strength and control over energy did not even require a weapon. Rachel, without dropping his body from her hand, tried to laugh as quietly as possible, and, only when she brought the demon's body to the edge, she finally ripped her hand from his rib cage - ashes that never reached your heads sprinkled on you. "High!" she sighed happily, jumping off the roof.

"Couldn't you be more careful?" that voice almost made you both faint with surprise, only Megumi remained calm. "There could have been more than one," Issu grumbled unhappily, eyeing Rachel - she was speechless from surprise.

"Ya can talk?" you asked in an amazed whisper, afraid to scare off his talkativeness.

You didn't know that his sociability was not fearful at all; it was rather lazy, and the boy didn't think it necessary to stir it up in any way. Issu, pretending that nothing had happened, looked into the barracks and counted the people. "Twenty-three in this one," he summarized, heading back outside.

"Okay," you mumbled dazedly, still looking at him with round eyes.

"I'll count the others for now," he said, and without waiting for another shocked response, he set off to count the people.

Rachel came to her senses when you shoved her shoulder. "Oh my god," she drawled, giving Issu a look. "Another day, another breakthrough," she whispered, shaking her head slowly. "Alrighty," Rach perked up, peering into the nearest barracks as well. "What do we have here?"

The girl wondered - how was Issu able to accurately count people in such darkness and filth? What was lying there in the corner - rags or a few people? How did he realize they were all alive? Some of them seemed to have died long ago - they were lying there, curling their skinny bodies into rolls and not moving. Only one gaffer, who seemed to be smaller than a child, looked fearfully at Rachel with sunken eyes. "Hey, man!" hissed Rach, turning to him. "Gather five... Nah, better six people. We'll get ya out of here soon."

Rachel snorted irritably when the old man, without taking his glassy eyes off her, gave no sign of life. Poking her head out of the doorway, she walked over to Megumi, and in one motion she turned him around and started rummaging through his backpack. Finding something, she walked back to the barracks. "And for the cigarettes?" the girl said slyly, waving a pack of cigarettes.

The gaffer's gaze changed - it was like a fortune were being held in front of him. He crawled hesitantly toward Rachel - the girl felt as if she were taming a wild animal - and held out his hand. He remained frozen in that position, hesitant to take the cigarette packet and shutting his eyes, clearly expecting a whiplash or worse. Rach, sighing, shoved the cigarettes into his hand and clasped his fingers. The old man opened his eyes and stared in disbelief, first at her and then at the jewel that had fallen to his share. Tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks and he sat down on his knees and began to bow restlessly, nearly hitting the floor. "Hey, hey!" she stammered, trying to stop him - the gaffer shuddered and immediately crawled back to his corner.

Rachel, standing up in front of you, scratched her forehead a little confused. "I'm still not used to this kinda thing," she admitted on an exhale.

"Ya looked like a maniac trying to lure a child with candy," you tsked at your sister. "Sure he was scared."

"Got any better options?" she asked defiantly, spreading her arms out to the sides.

"Let's find an empty barracks for starters," you suggested, looking around. "And then we'll think about it... It's not a bad idea to bring supplies here first. It looks like we're gonna be here a while."

"Uh-huh," she nodded reluctantly, ready to move forward.

You wandered cautiously through the nooks and crannies, peering into each barracks like stray cats. There were squeaks and cries here and there, and Rachel was the only one who kept going away for a little while, coming back more and more satisfied - after each of her brief disappearance, the sobbing stopped. When you glared at your sister, she only tipped her chin defiantly, demanding proof of her misdeeds.

When you finally found an empty barrack and went inside, you waited for Issu and began to settle in - according to your colleague, there were about three hundred people here. When everyone but Megumi had taken off their masks, the boy stared at you perplexed. "You should take it off too," Issu muttered, pulling some water out of the backpack. "It might be uncomfortable at first, but you'll get used to it," he warned honestly, taking a little sip from the bottle.

Megumi sat down next to his partner and pressed his fingers where Kyle had taught him, and the mask gave a distinctive click as it pulled away from his face. As soon as he took a breath, Fushiguro felt a choking sensation, but it was nothing like what he'd felt when he'd first arrived here. His lungs weren't scorched by icy flames, his insides weren't covered in frost, and his hot blood wasn't frozen. "What are you doing?" exasperated Issu, glaring at Megumi, who was breathing shallowly and frequently. "Breathe slower, you idiot."

"I have enough teachers in my life without you, asshole," Fushiguro spat out, but despite the altercation, he took the advice. His body relaxed visibly, though he continued to wrinkle with each breath.

Rachel, walking slowly over to you, was also staring at the boys. "Hey," she turned to you in a conspiratorial whisper, shoving you lightly with her shoulder. "Are your eyes double-visioned too?"

You scratched your temple in confusion. There were two sullen, grumpy copies sitting in front of you, even the strands of black hair falling equally over their eyes. Except, Issu's hair was longer. "Looks like it," you clicked your tongue quietly. "By the way, who's going for supplies?"

"I'm ready," Megumi offered like a perpetual volunteer.

"More options?" you ask, looking at Rachel and raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Why I can't?" Megumi jumped to his feet, staring at you glumly.

"Because I said so," you waved away his indignation.

"God," snorted Issu quietly, stuffing the water bottle into the backpack. Getting up, he headed for the exit. "I'll go if you can't decide."

"I'm with you!" exclaimed Rachel joyfully, bursting up and catching up with the boy.

"I don't need a pain in the ass," Issu muttered quietly, but his scolding was heard by everyone present.

"Hey!" appealed Rach to him resentfully. She wrapped her arms around the boy's neck and bent him over, then began to rub the top of his head with her fist. "Ya just learned to talk, and ya're already snapping at your elders?"

"Get off!" you couldn't see what was happening because Rachel had dragged the boy away, all you could see of him was a small patch of black hair on the doorstep. "I said get your hands off me!" you heard muffled swearing and quieter girlish laughter, but after a few moments, there was silence. Only Fushiguro's angry hissing could be heard.

You looked out of the barracks and checked to see if everything was all right. Sensing that the boy's discontent still hadn't subsided, you gave up. "Well... What's wrong now?"

"Am I just gonna be an errand boy forever?" he mumbled, nearly spitting in your direction. "All you need me to do is carry a backpack."

"Yeah, thanks," you said, almost rolling your eyes. "How did we survive out here without food and water before?" you asked sarcastically, trying to make him think.

"You know, maybe Gojo could never boast of rational and safe training methods," he began, trying to prick your ego - Megumi was pissed off at how you indifferently started rummaging through some rags without paying any attention to the boy. "But even that was better than what you were doing. He never made a hothouse plant out of me-"

"The void only hurts our bodies when we're here for a long time," you interrupted his indignant grumbling. "Ya can't just race in and out of the void with impunity. Listen," you perked up, throwing one of the rags at him - Megumi caught it involuntarily, grimaced in disgust, and tossed it aside. "We haven't yet had any precedent for training anyone as we go along. We used to have far more students, we even had lectures and briefings, and only then consolidated with practice. We don't have that luxury now," you said, slipping the tattered shawl you'd found over your shoulders. "Why did ya throw the sweatshirt away?" you asked, looking at the dirty piece of clothing that was lying next to Fushiguro. "Put it on and take off your boots. Let's go for a walk," and without waiting for another round of reproaches, you went outside to wait for the boy.

With a few questions and some squeamishness, Megumi put on the sweatshirt, which felt like it was covered in some hard crust. The benefits of civilization that remained on the other side came to mind. How long before he could get home and wash off all this dirt?

Pulling off his boots, he stared at his own feet, wrapped in elastic bandages. Was it worth taking them off, too? Glimpsing into the doorway where he could see you, he realized that you were standing completely barefoot. Hastily untying the bandages, Megumi jumped out into the street.

You walked in silence through the backyards, back to the beginning of the street - now that you were on a straight road, Megumi could finally see the devastation that was going on here. He looked sympathetically, almost fearfully, at the people who were hastily rummaging through the piles of trash, looking around. When you passed a curled clump of hair and dirt, it suddenly came to life and grabbed Fushiguro's ankle, but the grip was so weak that the boy stepped forward without even noticing it. Megumi wanted to turn to you, to ask for help, but as he looked around, he realized with horror that absolutely everyone here was like that - infirm, incapable and weak. There were saints and sinners, stars and homeless, criminals and moral authorities, some of them probably had titles that had ceased to exist in past centuries, but before the violet horizon everyone was equal.

A stinking smell hit his nose - there was a cluster of corpses in one of the dark alleys nearby. The sweet, putrid odor wafted around the area, infecting people with vomit. Megumi squirmed, not daring to admit to you that nausea was coming up to his throat as well. As you passed the cluster of dead, Fushiguro remembered only someone's festering, frozen eyes before he turned away, and someone's cries lingered in his ears as a funeral song.

Megumi almost jumped when you pulled the hood over his head in one motion. He glanced at you absently, and noticed that you had pulled the gray shawl over your head as well. He shrank back as a figure that was tough and brutal forward, a thud and a wet wheezing sound behind you.

Even though there was an old woman peering out from every corner, shaking her scythe, there were still people here, and Megumi breathed a sigh of relief at the realization. As you moved steadily closer to the dark high-rises, the violet color growing brighter and brighter, the boy's eyes glazed over. As soon as you were at the very first barracks, at the very foot of the demon houses, you immediately plopped down on the ground by the fence. Megumi stepped from foot to foot, pursed his lips, and hesitantly sat down beside you. "As you can see, the void is quite favorable to the weak," you said quietly as you both watched the girl waddle past you - her legs were warped, seeming to have once been broken in several places. "But it can't stand brave fools who've stopped being afraid of her," you shifted your gaze to the alleyway where the mountain of corpses lay.

"I got it," Megumi replied on an exhale, wrapping himself more tightly in a wide, dirty sweatshirt.

"So... How's the lighting thing going?" you ask in between.

"Not bad," Megumi shrugged. "I can strongly illuminate a space in a small radius and set some objects on fire, but even that takes a lot of energy."

You, discerning chips in the sand in front of you, nodded and pointed at them with your head. "Light one."

"What?" he asked dazedly. "One?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded.

Fushiguro concentrated, expecting it to catch on fire. Dark energy flowed through his veins instead of blood, but something weightless was harder to control - the energy began to surge over the edges, wanting to break free, to escape and return to its home. Megumi could feel the pain spreading through his fingers, but the boy didn't relent - he only tensed up more, feeling how hard his temples were pounding. Without waiting for the inner voice's approval, he pulled the triangle.

Just as you felt your ankle begin to tingle, your entire shin flared up. Megumi started to cover your leg with sand with you, and if you were doing it calmly, his hands were trembling. What a loser - he couldn't even set fire to a measly chip. "You're not... You're not hurt?" he asked anxiously, looking around.

"Nope," you grinned, rubbing the top of his head through his hood.

He exhaled disappointedly, flopped back and literally fell backwards onto the mesh fence, the hedge rattling dangerously. "I guess I'm not such an outstanding voidrunner."

"What if I told ya that it's harder to set a chip on fire than a log?" you asked, smiling slyly - when he stared at you incredulously, you laughed softly. "Which do ya think is easier: shooting a bear or shooting a mosquito?"

Megumi, humming, thought about it for a moment. He had always thought that the smaller the object in the crosshairs of a cursed energy, the easier it was to destroy. The realization that he would have to retrain again, and then adjust to each of the energies altogether made him sigh brokenly. "Ya, when you do this," you created a triangle out of your index fingers and thumbs and turned it edge down. "Think of it as creating a shape for the energy so that it's easier to work with and understand when ya activate it. But dark energy already has a shape, and only the hell knows what it is. We don't know its size. It can be smaller than a dot or bigger than an ocean, but the fact is that the more ya save energy for the embodiment of the ability, the more it fills its form and becomes less stable, and ya need to save it - the more energy, the more powerful the properties of your ability. With unstable outburst ya will hit anywhere but the target, so ya, as a conductor, need to learn to control it. Soon ya won't even need those triangles."

"I'd still attend a couple of lectures," Megumi mumbled, looking down at his own arms and pulling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt along with his uniform - the black lines reached almost to his elbow. Grimacing, he pulled back the sleeve and tightened the straps on his hood - only his face remained visible. It wasn't for him to complain - he'd pushed his own way in, almost begging you to let him come with you, and if he didn't justify being here, he'd let everyone down, including himself, and in particular - Kyle. Would he be disappointed in Megumi if he found out that the unspoken receiver of his ability was letting him down?

"Relax," you clapped him on the shoulder. "One way or another, ya'll learn everything. And unstable energy to control, and abilities to manage, maybe even get another one in your arsenal, and strengthen your body to contain and strike, and if it's interesting, we'll get a taste of dark matter too. We all started somewhere."

"Dark matter?" he asked in amazement. "Like we can create territories or something?"

"Nope," you shook your head, pursing your lips. "In fact, none of the hunters have ever found a use for it. We can only make a hole in space for a while, but if something falls into it, it just pushes it out after a while and closes. There's no time, so ya can use it in some cases, but it's mostly useless. You might be a trailblazer, though. We don't have any generic techniques, everyone just relies on fantasy within the conventional framework of physics. And as for territories... Some of the demons know how to create them," you said, remembering the maze of concrete walls. "But unlike yours, no one's abilities are enhanced there - on the contrary, they simply disappear from both sides. The demons benefit from this, for we are tired, sleepy, and hungry, and they are not."   

"Got it," Megumi nodded briefly. "Y/N," he turned to you, faltering slightly. "Why doesn't anyone but ya create weapons?" the boy asked, and another question, more dangerous and risky, was twirling on his tongue. Megumi tried to hold it back, but the reins slipped from his hands, cutting his palms - he felt an unpleasant pain followed by regret. "Does it have something to do with the fact that you're... uh, that you're not really human?"

You smirked, almost laughing - it made the boy look embarrassed, but it was too late to grab the reins. It was foolish of you to expect Danielle to keep her mouth shut. At least with Megumi. Whether he'd asked the question because he wanted to learn as well or had cleverly led him to a topic that really interested him, you wanted to praise him for his cleverness, but other words escaped your lips. "Ya know and ya're not afraid to sit next to me?" there was living or not-so-living proof of what demons were capable of, and he was sitting next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours, and he didn't seem to be thinking about moving away.

"Why should I be afraid of you?" asked the boy earnestly. "You've done nothing wrong to me."

You opened your mouth to object, but, unable to find the right or convincing words, closed it back up. "That's right," you agreed, shrugging. "Ya... Dany told ya about it, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Megumi said simply, and you sighed, taking his answer for granted. The name you uttered has reawakened the emotions he'd once fled from, hiding them behind a sullen mask. His young heart began to quietly tear itself apart, and the words his teacher had once spoken about selfishness rang in his head - perhaps Megumi should have given up and stayed with Danielle. At least until she felt better. Now, however, he had no idea at all what her condition was, what she was doing, how often she cried. Fushiguro was not even comforted by the thought that he would leave this place and return to her again.

What will their reunion be like? Would she slap him, run away, or throw herself at him? Regardless of the answer to those questions, he knew for sure: no matter what she did, he would put her in a tight embrace, drown out any possible cries for him to let her go, and tell Danielle a thousand times a day that he would never leave her. "Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I wanna ask for your blessing."

You choked on your own saliva. You coughed so hard that your lungs felt like they were going to burst. You crouched down, gulping for air, while Megumi frantically slapped your back with the palm of his hand. Well, at least you really did look a lot like the locals now. "Oh, gosh...," you drawled hoarsely, almost suffocating. "Look, I have nothing against your relationship," you mumbled, straightening up abruptly - Megumi, taken aback, recoiled and stared at you with round eyes. "But are ya sure this is the right time?"

Fushiguro was well aware of what had happened to Dany recently, and the only regret that burned in him was that he hadn't given her the watch sooner. "Does it even exist?" he asked seriously. "If I sit around and wait, it'll turn out there's no time left at all."

"Ya're just a kid," you shook your head slowly in disbelief, but Megumi remained adamant. "Ya should still be flighty... Ya know, if that's what ya want, then go for it," you laughed softly, and the huskiness in your voice suddenly warmed him. "If she says no, don't come crying to me, though" you patted his shoulder sympathetically, and he thought about how he should have slapped you on the back harder. There was no telling when he'd get another opportunity like this with impunity. "I wish I could be that brave," you sighed dreamily.

"Are ya kidding?" squinted the boy, scanning you for truthfulness.

"Nope," you chuckled, shaking your head. "Ya're willing to take such a big step, and I still haven't talked to her. I can't even look her in the eye."

"I've never been one to confine people, but if you don't make peace with her, I'm gonna take you off the guest list. You know the fuss Gojo's gonna make. So... You'd better make up your mind already." 

Whether it was a joke or a threat, it made you smile. Did Megumi realize that he had made you his secret keeper? Or did he not intend to keep it a secret at all? You bit your lip - it seems like you'll have to do that every time you go back to Gojo. How long could you go on without opening your mouth? You, trying to find answers, glimpsed at Fushiguro. He looked funny in that hooded sweatshirt, with only a serious face sticking out of the round hole, and dark blue eyes that shimmered in the purple light and pointed upward. 

Following the direction of his gaze, you realized what he was studying so carefully. The stones that in their cluster hovered and circled above the dark high-rises. Through their cracks a pulsing bright light was bursting outward, giving the impression that the thing was ready to either burst like a soap bubble or explode altogether. "What are ya thinking about?" you asked, shoving him quietly with your shoulder.

"I thought you said they had some kinda sun-like core here," he said quietly, watching as a small pebble that had broken off from the high-rise soared upward and joined the others. "What if it's not a single core at all? What if there's more than one?"

"And ya think it might be one of them?" you asked slyly, admiring the boy's mesmerized look. As repulsive and cold as this place was, some people who tended to see beauty in everything found charm here. Megumi nodded slowly. It seems beauty really was in the eye of the beholder. "We thought about it too, but we never tried to destroy them."

"Why?"

"Because our job was to get all the people out of here and then clean the place up," you sighed, wrapping yourself tighter in your shawl. "I don't know how much power it would take to destroy this thing. No matter how strong the voidrunner is, it's still limited in its conductivity. Ya know what happens when the lines from your arm get to your heart, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Megumi said worriedly, quietly. "It wouldn't do us any good to destroy that thing either, would it? Somehow I think it's the reason it's getting warmer, and there's plenty of cold places around here already."

"We could try it when we get all the people out," you suggested cheekily, and he stared at you in amazement. "Why?" you asked, spreading your hands. "Since it's time for a change, why not give it a try?"

"You literally just directly hinted that you could die by pulling something like that!" alarmed the boy, grabbing your shoulder.

"I've died a couple times before," you chuckled, grabbing his hand. "It was okay."

"Don't joke like that," Megumi whispered, frowning and glaring at you with dark blue eyes. Snapping out of your musings, you rubbed the top of his head and decided for yourself. It was better to die trying and searching.

You looked at the supposed core again with challenge. Even a meticulous creature in its own territory could let its guard down, and what if started destroying that territory altogether? How would Rei react then? Would he continue to sit in the corner, waiting for the right, vulnerable moment for you, or would he come out and defend his once newfound land? You didn't have any options left to sit and waltz through them, spitting out the ones you didn't like or were life-threatening. Left in an open field with only one choice, you were ready to step up.

"Hey!" you jumped up, hearing an angered exclamation right above your ear. When you turned around, you saw a furious Rach on the other side of the fence. She was leaning against the metal mesh and gripping it with her hands, her eyes shifting angrily from you to Megumi. "What are ya fools doing here? Taking a walk? Are ya out of your mind? What if someone notices?" she raged, almost sputtering. "Get back to the barracks!"

[November 10, 2020, 9:05pm, hunters' hq]

Inadvertently borrowing Megumi's courage, you stood in front of the door to Danielle's room. You hadn't eaten, or showered, or even changed your uniform, just taken the people from the void to the infirmary, and without waiting for the doc to throw you into one of the hospital beds, you made your way to the second floor. You'd already grabbed the doorknob several times, but something kept you from pulling the door open. Maybe it was your shaky hands, or maybe it was your finished supply of boldness. Were you really that afraid of the girl who grew up in this house?

Sighing, you leaned your forehead against the door, trying to listen - there was a low murmur on the other side. It sounded like Danielle was watching a movie - she might even have fallen asleep to it, so should you have disturbed her? You, angry at yourself for making up excuses, opened the door.

Dany was really watching a movie, wrapped in plaid - the dim light of the screen accentuated her puffy eyes and reddened eyelids. When she looked at you tiredly, it was like she'd been confronted with her once-coveted reflection in the mirror. You may have been covered in dust and sand that stuck even in your hair, but Danielle couldn't get rid of the thought of how that uniform would look on her. What powers would she have learned? Would she follow in your footsteps, or would she discover something new in finding her own way? It seemed as unattainable now as bird flight - it turned out she had no wings, and the distant sky could not be reached, touched, or conquered by hand. Dany thought she had no more tears left in her until she saw you.

When you saw the girl's tears, you froze. What would her fate have been if her father had been here? Unlike you, he would have been able to guide, reassure and protect her. "Dany," you turned to her quietly, hesitant to come closer. "Ya need to go back to Hopetown."

"Didn't ya beg me to come back to this house?" an ironic note crept into the weak voice. "And now ya demand that I go back?"

"It's for your own good," you said, looking down in embarrassment. This house was often empty and cold, everyone was either on missions or in the void, and Hopetown had an extra pair of eyes that could keep an eye on the girl.

"Just say ya don't wanna see me anymore," despite the bright glistening tears, her voice was hollow and discolored, you could hardly recognize the familiar tinkle of little bells in it. "I didn't do it on purpose, really," she began to swallow back tears of recognition, almost choking. "Yoichi said that day that death was inevitable, and if I didn't figure out a way to send someone other than ya there, they'd kill Megumi," you wanted to wipe away her tears, but the premonition that she'd bounce off you made you stand still. "I really... I really never thought of ya like that. I couldn't, I never-" you, unable to bear it, went up to her and took her hand, thus severing the fishing line of regret that was choking her, and interrupting her wistful mumbling. Alas, you couldn't rip one heart out twice - now you were depressed that you had let her abuser get away so easily.

You wanted to laugh bitterly at your own hypocrisy. You'd killed Rachel's husband in a similar situation, but you were weak in front of the girl, your hand over her face just to pet her.

You've been estranged from each other for far too long because of creatures that were only too happy about it. "Bun," you began softly, cuddling the crying lump into your arms. "I'm sorry I didn't come to ya sooner," you stroked her, not realizing if she could feel your touch through the plaid and if it was helping her. "Even before... Even before they did that to ya, I should have come to you. I just felt like next to Megumi ya were really recovering from everything that happened and I could ruin it. I'm sorry," Danielle used to think of herself as a burnt-out theater actress, but after realizing the effect her words of hate had on you, she went soft in your arms like to say that you could do anything to her now. "Dany, I know ya still hate to talk about this... But how long have they been threatening ya?" feeling her flinch, you decided to drop the subject, but Danielle was a little stronger than you thought.

"Not long before ya disappeared into the void," she admitted weakly. "The watch and the charger... That was me, too. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to..."

Rei planned this all too long ago to find any trace of it. Only now did you realize that even if you'd checked everyone immediately after you returned from the void and made sure that Christian wasn't Christian anymore, it would only give you more uncontrollable rage. The truth was the day Gojo accidentally dropped his promise to kill you, and time was not a free path for curious travelers, you could never go back and see what happened. For a long and happy life in which there would finally be room for the forbidden feeling, you would have to kill your teacher, thus breaking Gojo's unfulfilled promise. Or, if the abstract coin falls the wrong way, die by Rei's hand, never having touched the feeling your mother told you about. "Should I pack?" asked Dany weakly, tugging on your sleeve and stopping your gloomy walk through the future. "Ya... ya don't trust me now, do ya?"

You licked your lips nervously as you felt your eyes water, the one hiding the secret couldn't judge the deception of another. "Yeah. Yeah, get ready," you said in a shaky voice, grinning. "Maybe without a monster close by, ya'll at least get a good night's sleep."

You were both too wounded to comfort each other. You, as the more mature one, should have pulled yourself together, but you pulled only the girl's clothes from the shelves and began to organize them into bags. If an emotion couldn't be curbed, it had to be suppressed - your own personal safety protocol. You were just glad the girl didn't get over herself and start reassuring you that everything was fine, you knew it would take time for her to accept the other part of you, or to reject both. The creature inside didn't care, it just watched meekly and haughtily as you folded Danielle's things that you had once bought for her. Maybe one day you'd go shopping again, and you'd let her drag you to another diner for one meal, or maybe now she'd do it with someone who would never undermine her trust. You catch a glimpse of the girl's wrist - there was still no watch on it.

How good it was for you to be back in the void by now, for someone else's secret that you had been entrusted with was trying to get out.  

"Sir," you whispered, backing away slowly. Your feet sank into the sand, and an invisible grip tightened around your throat. Your eyes began to blur from lack of oxygen, and you could barely make out the dark top of the head that was sticking out of hiding - Megumi, lurking on the roof of the barracks, was trying his best to subdue the wayward energy. "Sir, please don't kill me," you quietly pleaded, stopping - the sand completely engulfed your feet, depriving you of the ability to walk.  The demon stepped forward, gazing at you like a curiosity. His eyes glided over your unusually healthy body - the creature, as the sculptor of these places, knew that such exhibits had no place here. "Megumi, it's time!" you shouted hoarsely. You shifted your gaze haphazardly from black-haired head to black eyes. Nothing happened, only the squeeze pressed harder on your throat. "Fushiguro!" you squeaked panickedly before your voice disappeared.

It was saved by a sudden spark that came out of nowhere - the demon's hair flared. The invisible grip on your neck loosened, and then it was gone. You couldn't decide whether to panic more or laugh because you saw Rachel behind the demon and her bloody hand piercing the creature's flesh.

"Ew," she stuck out her tongue in a squeamish manner and shook her dirty hand. Blood splattered in all directions, sharing the disgust with everyone. "How many times I've done this, it still disgusts me sometimes," the girl glanced up at the roof of the barracks - Megumi's droopy face was visible from there. Unable to contain herself, Rachel laughed, remembering what he'd done. "Fucking barber, who aims like that? The heart is lower down!" she wheezed, clutching her stomach. Fushiguro climbed down from the roof, almost clinging to the sharp corners of the bent metal plates, and sat down against the wall, hiding his face in the palms of his hands. "That's right!" taunted Rachel mockingly. "Be ashamed, blame yourself, and under no circumstances try any further! After all, if ya continue, there's a chance that one day ya'll save someone's hide, and that can't be allowed to happen."

"Overkill," you stopped her, frowning your eyebrows disapprovingly.

"Ya think?" she asked in a whisper, pressing her lips and realizing she'd stepped over the line.

"Get the fuck out," you snarled, shoving her in the back. Surprisingly, your sister obediently went into the barracks, but you knew it was a trap; sooner or later, you'd get punched in the forehead for it. 

"So what are ya hiding for?" you asked, plopping down in front of the shrink figure. You had no leadership skills, no motivational speeches, only annoyance, pestering and unyielding. You crawled closer and poked the boy in the side - he flinched, and you took advantage of his confusion by grabbing his arms and pulling them apart. Megumi, realizing he was without his protective cocoon, turned his head to the side and stared into the void. "Don't beat yourself up like that because of one time."

"Because of one time?" he grinned sullenly. "We've been trying for two months."

"Two months!" you laughed light-heartedly. "Megumi, I've been mastering shading for years, Rach has been studying tranquility for even longer, Issu is still struggling with observation," trying to convince the boy and make eye contact with him, you cupped his cheek and made him look at you. "Name me a person who gets it right the first time," when he opened his mouth, you extended your hand forward, stopping him. "Except Gojo," he closed his mouth in thought, shrugging incredulously. 

Behind his scowl, something else was creeping in. You knew that feeling - it pretended to be friendly, promising to give you freedom forever, but not telling you that it would take everything else in return. Unlike you, who had parents, loved ones, a sister and brother with whom you trained side by side, constantly pushing and supporting each other, he was walking this road alone. "Two months is just dust in which even Kyle couldn't light a torch, and ya're already setting demons' hair on fire. It would be nice if ya realized that instead of bemoaning yourself," Fushiguro was drowning in your words like in a bottomless lake, but whether or not he learned to breathe underwater was up to him. "Ya know, a person definitely needs someone to believe in him even if they can't do it themselves. I hope ya won't mind if it'll be me."

He nodded shyly and relaxed his posture, stretching out his legs and leaning his back against the wall, but his brief calmness came to an end at the sight of red hair. "Hey, ya still moping here?" asked Rachel, peering out of the barracks. "Better go warm up some food for us," she clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him back to a state of permanent gloom.

"Just be honest," the boy sighed, turning to you. "Did you tell me to study the lighting just so you could use me as a portable fire?" 

"Uh, well...," you mumbled, scratching the back of your head. "Ya picked it out yourself, actually," the boy snorted, still not admitting his own mistake. "Come on," clapping him on the shoulder, you stood up and headed for the barracks. You were hungry, too - your rumbling stomach kept reminding you of your responsibilities to it.

From the inside, the barracks already resembled a well-appointed hut. All the dirty rags had been thrown away, the floors had been washed, the shelves had been put back against the wall, the tables had been moved, the clothes had been put in their places, and the corners were filled with almost empty sports bags - all the food supplies and medicines had been given to the people. Only protruding nails and rotted boards stood out of the furnishings, but it was impossible to make major repairs without making a fuss, and there was no point. You had long ago gotten used to being content with what you had anyway.

While Issu peeled potatoes and carrots and Rach unpacked sausages, Megumi already knew what he was going to do. Putting his palms under the tin pot, he lay down and made himself comfortable. The process was long and tedious, his arms cramped at times, and the smell of the food he was cooking made his stomach twist so tight he was ready to howl.

The empty soup with few vegetables seemed like a joke to him at first, but you all gobbled it up with such appetite that Fushiguro had nothing to object. All the good food went to the sick people.

This 'evening' as he cooked and sat down to dinner among the voidrunners, he realized that his hands were no longer whimpering to remind him to rest, and Megumi was amazed to note that it took less effort to do it now, the dark lines barely spreading over his fingertips, though in past times they had rubbed down to his elbows when he'd heated the pot in this way. He looked at all of you suspiciously, but no one had a look on your faces that said you were making him do it on purpose.

Rach set her empty plate aside and pulled the backpack to her side - digging around a bit, she pulled out a folded, tattered sheet of paper. Fushiguro straightened up and perked his ears. "Okay," the girl said, spreading out a makeshift, pencil-drawn map of the place in front of you. "We've completely cleared these areas," she poked her fingers at the schematically drawn barracks - the ones farthest away from the high-rises - and circled those places in pencil. "Now we need to quietly and discreetly pull the rest of the people here, while mopping up the rest of the overseers. Has anyone counted how many of them are left?"

"About a hundred," Issu said, picking up the empty plates. "Maybe more."

You sighed worriedly, staring at the map. "Is there something wrong with it?" asked Rachel grudgingly.

"When we acted one at a time, it wasn't so noticeable," you grimaced. "And now we're getting cocky," if you hadn't been spotted so far, that said nothing about your skill - it might have been an unlooked-for stroke of luck, the reserves of which remained unknown.

"Do ya have better options? Then suggest them. Or ya can only criticize?" she snorted irritably, jerking the map away.

"What are ya nagging about? I can't even voice my concerns anymore-"

"Shut up, both of you," Issu quietly barked. Rachel looked at him dumbfounded and silently mocked his manner of speech, making faces, but obediently remained quiet, only glaring angrily at you. "You're taking people out tomorrow, I hope you haven't forgotten that?" he asked sarcastically, looking at you and Fushiguro. "You go to bed now. And you go on duty," he ordered your sister. 

Megumi, encouraged, was the first to crawl back to his sleeping bag. You, hesitating a moment, crawled into yours. The thin material didn't save you from the cold or the hard floor - every time you went to sleep, your aching back reminded you of itself. You glanced at Fushiguro with slight envy - the boy was still young and full of vigor; the changes of age still had no power over him. Sniffing in frustration, you turned away from the others.

The clattering of dishes soon died down as Issu, having finished washing the plates, went to his corner. The irritated puffs were soon replaced by quiet snores and deep sighs, rustling and fidgeting. Every sound cut into your hearing, and the recent enemy you'd seemingly gotten rid of showed its face again. Damn insomnia had taken hold of you again, and it was Gojo's absence that was to blame. You could still feel the weight of his leg on you, pressing you to the bed, and how greedy you were, lacking the usual memories just to fall asleep. 

In the bitter half-slumber, you heard someone whispering from the street, and it was a delayed burst of fire in your chest. When you jumped up and saw Megumi and Rachel in the doorway, your heart calmed a little, but your mind tensed as you shook off the last vestiges of the dream you hadn't gotten to. You lay back down as Rachel entered the barracks and tiredly plopped down on her sleeping bag. Megumi, on the other hand, remained seated outside.

After waiting a moment, you heard a familiar sniffle. Rachel, fast asleep, was snoring softly. You unzipped the sleeping bag as quietly as you could, keeping your eyes on Issu, his head resting comfortably on his arm. He didn't make a sound, just breathed peacefully and measuredly.

You stood up and tiptoed to the exit. You wanted to call out to Megumi, to ask what was wrong, but you stopped abruptly. At first you thought he was hunched over, staring at the sand with his eyes, but when you looked closer, you saw that the wood chips in front of him were in a row, too neatly arranged to be an accident.

You didn't realize how much Megumi had been affected by Rachel's joking taunt - she'd dropped those words about death carelessly, without thinking, and the boy was back in the day where he'd been helpless, useless, and most of all, guilty. If he hadn't rushed forward, maybe Kyle would still be alive. Your sister's words simmered in his head along with yours: there was no place for a brave and ignorant fool here - only doom awaited him, but ironically, it wasn't the fool who would die. "Can you give me some space?" he asked tiredly.

"Ya're still practicing?" you chirped softly, taking a seat next to him. You were clearly testing his patience - he gave you a cold look when you accidentally hit one of the chips and knocked it out of alignment. "Commendable."

"I kept thinking how lucky that asshole is," he muttered grimly after a short pause, unraveling the triangle from his fingers and slowly running his palm over the chips. You raised your eyebrows in surprise - if this was some kind of ritual, it seemed a little odd. And funny, too. "To be born as a descendant of one of the three vengeful spirits," Megumi pulled the triangle together again and pulled it off, but this time not even your foot caught fire. "And after that, Gojo takes luck for strength," Megumi thought it strange that you didn't start defending the sorcerer. You remained silent, only watching his unsuccessful attempts to set the wood chip on fire, making the boy squirm in his seat. "Nothing to say?" 

"What's there to say?" you shrugged.

"What's the point of sitting here then?" he snorted. 

"Ya just look hilarious when ya're nervous," you chuckled, but your laughter only encouraged him to try harder. "Ya know, ya shouldn't take his strength for luck," you sighed. "All those tales of vengeful spirits are certainly good - humans love tales and unsolved mysteries - but we shouldn't forget that we and our abilities arose through normal evolution," Fushiguro looked at you like you were crazy. Mixing magic with science was a bit of a stretch. "Why are ya looking at me like that, kid?" you laughed. "By the way, this," you pinched his nose. "And this, and this, and this," you poked him in the sides, grabbed his arms and legs, and he tried to swing away from you, but you were faster and more agile. "All of this only came about because one of the many fish being thrown ashore by the tide had a useful mutation."

"What does that have to do with magic anyway?" exploded the boy, but even his flash of anger didn't help ignite the chip.

"I mean, all your techniques could be just mutations," Megumi grumbled skeptically, turning away from you. "Listen, look at people," you drawled dreamily. "All we do our whole lives is adapting. And all these techniques of yours... They're kinda generic, aren't they?"

"Well... Yeah, for the most part that's true."

"Ya do realize that they'd only be generic in the case of full incest, right?" talking about such things discouraged all sleep and appetite, but you talked about it so casually that it amazed him. "It's like talking about heterochromia or six-toed. All that unites creatures with such rare mutations is a common ancestor, but ya can't call them purely generic," you threw your hands behind your head and leaned back against the wall, making yourself comfortable while Megumi puffed as hard as he could to curb his energy. "Why are ya sulking at Gojo about this, anyway? Ya're the one who has that... I forget what it's called, the one with the shadows." 

"The Ten Shadows technique," he reminded, rolling his eyes. "I'm still learning that one, too."

"There ya go!" you slammed him on the forearm. "And ya think Gojo hasn't mastered his techniques or something?"

"That was too quick," frowned Fushiguro. 

"And that's a credit to him," your reminder hit his youthful ego, but instead of giving up, Megumi was burning with the dream of harnessing two energies at once. "Anyway, what I wanted to say is...," you scratched your forehead thoughtfully. "Evolution has never once let a person go extinct yet, ya see. It solves any problem it creates. So after the cursed energy appeared on Earth, it was only a matter of time before a human with the right mutation appeared."

"Wonderful," the boy retorted sarcastically. "I've suddenly gone from sorcerer to mutant," you laughed quietly at his ability to exaggerate. "What about all of you? You too?"

"I guess so," you replied nonchalantly, getting up and stretching. "I wouldn't be surprised if we're all just mutants, too," you mocked him, which made him look away in embarrassment.

"And you don't have any myths to tell?" he asked. "Sorry, I meant tales," he teased back, regardless of the embarrassment.

You hummed quietly to yourself. "I've only heard that the first hunter appeared in the north," you said, shrugging your shoulders. "Uh... Nothing else," you answered honestly, not really wondering how it was that after thousands of years even the hunters themselves hadn't come up with at least one myth. "Alright, keep practicing," you stood up and rubbed the top of his head, and Megumi grudgingly grimaced at the thought that at this rate he would have a bald spot. "And I'm gonna go try to get some sleep."

"Y/N," he stopped you abruptly. "Have you ever thought that... that this hunter could have been just like you?"

Hiding your amazement behind a smile, you only spread your hands. "One more time this topic comes up in conversation, and I'll make ya warm our pillows at night before we go to bed," you said cheerfully, snapping your fingers.

Pouting, Megumi turned away from you. There was something strange about the mention of the north, and Megumi immediately thought of cold, ice-covered places. A completely uninhabitable land, lifeless, shrouded in winds and snow didn't seem empty to him at all - on the contrary, the touch of icy air and the songs of cracking ice reminded him of the home he never had.  What was more unusual was that the boy, feeling secure in the embrace of the dark gray sky, sensed an uncharted longing. Fushiguro slowly folded his fingers into a triangle, exhaled convulsively, and immediately pulled it off - hope lit up in his eyes as bright and red as one of the chips that lay before him. "Did you see it?" the boy asked cheerfully, turning around, but his enthusiastic tone faded and he blinked confusedly.

You're already gone.

Megumi scrutinized his hand - there were only the former pale streaks on it what was left of the heating of the tin pot. He had seen many displays of strength, both physical and mental, but he had never thought that the manifestation of his own potential would consist of just one small chip.

The more you brought people out, the lighter you felt. Putting aside fatigue, each of you looked forward to the day of the roundup. After judgment day, Rachel would return to her son, Megumi would be reunited with Danielle, and you, now washing dishes, envisioned home, thinking not at all of the stone and wood structure. When Issu silently handed you another mug, you rinsed it off and wondered if the desire that bound you all together lurked beneath the grim shadow of his perpetually indifferent face. "When we're done with this place, we'll take a little vacation," you chirped cheerfully. "What are ya planning to do? Go to Hopetown to see your parents?"

"I don't have parents," he replied simply, wiping the mug dry with a towel. "Just a little brother."

"Oh," you said quietly, dimming your gaze. "Sorry."

"No," he answered firmly, and your heart sank. So used to people responding differently in cases like this, you were caught off guard by such a response, making you feel ashamed. "Mind your own business," you bit your tongue in embarrassment and gave up trying to get to know the boy better. Issu had spoken to you on his own, after all - maybe someday there would come a time when he'd want to talk about himself. "I was just kidding," the boy said, sensing the growing awkwardness in your hanging silence.

"If ya can't change your intonation, ya could at least show it with your facial expressions...," you muttered, handing him the plate.

He was really serious - was it the absence of his parents and taking care of his younger brother? You grinned. If only you could borrow a little responsibility from him, you'd probably do a better job.

Issu looked up as the barracks shook again, staring glumly at the wall as he snorted and threw the plate into the basin with a clatter. "Ya have a hard time getting along with people, don't ya?" you asked, ignoring the buffoonery.

"No," the boy replied detachedly. "There's just no reason to."

"And ya spoke to us because...?" you began, hoping he would continue.

"Because we've started working all together," you exhaled happily when he finished speaking for you. "It doesn't bother me, but it doesn't make me happy."

"I see," you drawled uncertainly, and small splinters and debris fell from the shaking roof again. Issu started rubbing the plate with the towel with such force that it creaked - realizing that the boy was on edge, you left the household chores behind and ran outside.

You were met in the alley by a rambunctious Rachel and Megumi. They were laughing quietly, whether out of excitement or madness, your sister patting the boy on the shoulder approvingly, and whispering something to him, pointing to another barracks. "What are ya doing?" you sighed tiredly as you came closer - they stood at attention and looked at each other fearfully. "We're gonna get spotted like this."

"We're just having fun," Rachel whimpered. Her pouty lips turned up into a mad grin as she felt invisible claws behind her back, ready to dig into her spine. Not letting your sister give the place another jolt, you relocated behind the demon's back and neatly stabbed it through the heart - Rachel almost stomped her foot in resentment, but watched helplessly as the enemy crumbled to dust. "Ya see!" she wailed. "It's not us, they come on their own, we don't even have to do anything for it!"

Your heart thudded restlessly, alerting you to the danger. "What?" you barked, taking a step away from them. You gasped for breath like you hadn't breathed after the longest raid - your sister, seeing this, also rounded her eyes at the sudden realization. Grabbing Megumi by the shoulder like she was in a dark forest, she began to listen. You, on the other hand, turned around and ran back into the barrack. Issu realized from the look in your eyes that your hearts were now all beating to the same.

"Observation." 

A vision of alien creatures appeared before your eyes - all the images were blurry and ugly, moving through the alleys and streets so fast you couldn't tell how many there were. They merged together to form a solid shadow - even from here you could feel its hunger and rawness. You saw the terrified faces of the maimed humans, the barracks collapsing in the shadowy path, the black smoke billowing, but every glance led to the only place – to you.

As soon as Issu loosened the grip of his ability, you blinked and rushed to one of the bags. You took out the masks and tossed them to Rachel and Megumi, who were already standing in the aisle. Your sister quickly pulled herself together, but Fushiguro seemed frightened - not so much by the sudden attack and the anticipation of what was about to happen, but by the unknown and uncertainty of his abilities. Everything was happening too fast and not according to plan, but he put on his mask without wasting a second.

As you looked around at all the voidrunners, who were confused but still ready, you nodded, and they nodded back. There was no time for confusion, and you ran out into the street, each of you staring in a different direction, waiting for the others to strike and watching your backs.

It was too quiet for the amount of shadows and destruction they carried with them on their way to you. There were no mothers crying without their children, no sick people wheezing or coughing, no doors creaking because of the people always hanging around. Looking up at the roofs of the barracks or straight ahead of you, you stepped from foot to foot, turning slowly and looking around - the others did the same like following a methodology.

The adrenaline in your blood made your heartbeat thud straight to your temples. Did the demons feel the same way when you took them by surprise? Were they glad now that you were in their shoes? Maybe that was why they were delaying the moment of attack - they were just gorging on the anticipation that had suddenly fallen right into their laps.

Each of you had to admit that you had become conceited. Feeling like the masters of this place, you let your guard down, and your insolence knew no bounds - you slaughtered overseers in droves and took more people right under the noses of the remaining demons.

Trying to put aside thoughts of the fate that would befall you in a second, a minute, or an hour, Megumi worried, concerned to the point where he felt weightless, akin to having his spirit leave his body. Looking around at everyone else, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had felt something amiss. "What the fuck...," Rachel managed to mutter before flying off.

All the air was knocked out of your lungs by the heavy hand of flight - glancing up to where the dark sky should have been, you saw only a settlement that inevitably drifted away from you, shrinking further and further into a point. You weren't flying - you were falling into the abyss of the top of the void.

Turning your head, you were relieved to see Megumi beside you - you didn't know if he was even conscious, but you immediately grabbed his hand, and almost laughed when he gave it a weak squeeze. "Adoptee!" yelled Rach from somewhere below. "Are ya okay?"

"Yes!" you tried to shout over the whoosh of the air being split by your bodies. "Where's Issu?"

"He's with me!" shouted Rach. "Relocating?"

"Are there any other options?" you asked, trying not to look where you were falling - the endless darkness carried with it not only a threat to your bodies, but to your sanity as well. "Megumi, try to grab onto something!" you yelled and yanked his arm - the boy looked at you but still couldn't open his mouth, he only squeezed your palm once more, letting you know he understood.

"Relocate." 

When you hit the ground, you were immediately pulled back, your solar plexus hitting something hard and cold, but you didn't let go of Fushiguro's hand. Gasping, you slid your hand across the uneven surfaces of the barracks, your body tugging relentlessly downward. As you clung to the metal eaves of the roof and hit the corner of the open door with your temple on the way down, you felt your shoulder ache. Glancing down, you saw Megumi dangling in the air, still holding onto your arm. "Crawl," you quietly ordered Megumi in a panting voice. "Crawl right over me and grab onto the ledge because I won't be able to hold ya like this for long."

He hesitated and put his arm around your waist, and with a startled sigh, he let go of your hand and grabbed your shoulder - you used the moment to seize the eave with your other hand. It was easier, but not enough to hang there all day. You could feel Fushiguro shivering, but he was still hanging on the ledge next to you, and you could feel his body physically shaking.

The metal crackled capriciously and warningly as Rachel and Issu moved over to you. "Ow, shit," she hissed, sucking her finger and hanging onto one arm. "I hurt my finger," you rolled your eyes - making a drama out of nothing, she was hardly thinking about the fact that she was still getting off easy.

"What's going on?" asked Megumi - he tried not to give the appearance of being dizzy. He was willing to look weak for the rest of his life, but not now.

"Well look," you said, lowering your head and looking down. While you were all hanging out on the ledge, the unfriendly, endless sky spread out beneath your feet. "A fish was put in a bottle, corked and given to an octopus. The octopus spun it around, opened the bottle and ate the fish," you felt the eave sagging more and more under the weight of your bodies. "We look like fish," you whined, looking down at your dangling legs.  

"Shut up, ya," Rachel hissed, kicking you in the shin.

"So what do you propose to do?" asked Issu irritably.

"How about a prayer, friend?" asked Rach playfully.

"The ace up our sleeve used to be surprise, and now it's being used against us," you sighed, pursing your lips. "And whose idea was that?" you snapped at your sister.

"If it weren't me, ya'd be at home right now, grieving!" she retorted, trying to hit you again, but this time you dodged. Megumi stared at you dumbfounded, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open - this wasn't how he imagined fighting.

"Shut your mouths already!" hissed Issu.

The demons still hadn't come out of their hiding places. Perhaps they were just waiting, rubbing their hands together, for those who had poisoned their lives in their own lands to surrender and die ignominiously and unworthily - what would it be like for you when you fell, not in battle, but because your arms were tired and your body was no longer able to conduct dark energy?

There was a low, wet clang as Megumi's sweaty hand nearly slipped off the ledge. You glanced up, noticing the doorway where you'd hit the shutters earlier. "Can ya climb up?" you asked Fushiguro, nodding upward.

Without waiting for an answer, you grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him up, ready to support him or relocate him if he stumbled. The boy grabbed the notch in the wall between the wood and the metal plate, and pulled himself up - he was now kneeling on the eave, his body pressed against the wall. Carefully moving his knees, Megumi crawled to the side of the opening and literally dove into it. Feeling the relative safety of the boy, you exhaled in relief. "So what are we gonna do?" asked Rachel.

"I wanna try and destroy that thing," you said, nodding toward the cluster of rocks levitating above the buildings.

"Has your blood drained from your brain yet?" grumbled Rach uncertainly. "Why the fuck do we need this for?"

"Hey!" exclaimed Megumi, peering out of the doorway. His interference made your intentions remain just that - you just wanted to fish Rei out, wherever he was. "There's people sitting here as usual!" the living who happened to be there did look dumbfounded at the boy like he were a monkey running across the ceiling.

You looked over to your sister in amazement - it meant only one thing. "That bitch is seeing us right now," and more - whoever it was saw you all the time, for all the chaos caused by the demonic ability that only you were undergoing, it needed eye contact. "Issu, turn it on!"

There were no pictures for you and Megumi this time - only Rachel's pupils flickered haphazardly as if she were looking through hundreds of lives. As she searched, her smile grew wider and more obsessive, effortlessly sifting out the unnecessary and didn't stop even when her nose bled. "Gotcha," she growled frantically, turning around and looking towards the demon houses. "Do what ya want," she told you, flashing her eyes. "And I'll deal with the bastard."

You didn't have time to raise your voice or nod - your sister disappeared from your sight. "Issu," you turned to the boy, and the silence in your voice broadcast the seriousness of your intentions. "Keep an eye on him, will ya?"

"Okay," he replied, crawling over you. Grabbing onto Megumi's outstretched arm toward him, Issu climbed into the barracks.

You closed your eyes for a second, one less problem to worry about. Your soul demanded action, murmuring unintelligibly and making you forget about your tired, sweaty palms. You turned around a little to see the high-rises again - they, mockingly inverted, but still graceful, increasingly chipped stones of different sizes from their walls - the core attracted them immediately. You squinted your eyes - did the light really know it was in danger?

"Relocate."

As you flew down, clawing at the wall with your hands and forehead, you managed to cling to the ledge, your shoulders aching from the strain. There was only one good thing about it - If you all survived, you'd be home sooner. Yes, with extra bruises, bumps and wounds that would take months to heal, but you'd be warm and cozy again - that was what made you scramble from window to window. Moving down was much easier than climbing up - finding yourself literally a span away from the roof, you only now began to think about how to stay standing on your own two feet, finding yourself in an upside-down world.

You rolled your eyes, realizing that your actions were useless - you were still hanging, but you had changed location. It seemed ridiculous to even try to destroy the core from that position as the sweat on your body and the skin on your arms reminded you. Now making Gojo a hunter didn't seem like such a bad idea; his ability to float carelessly in the air would save you a lot of trouble. 

It was a good thing you had your hands full - the thought of it made you want to slap yourself in the face to put your brain in place. Using a person to make your job easier - when did you get to such selfish thoughts?

When you bent your head, trying to look around the roof rim for something to grab onto, your eyes blurred, you felt dizzy, your hands tense. "No, no, no, no," you mumbled worriedly, trying to climb through the window, but due to the tremendous exertion and the rapid change in space, you only had time to grab onto the window you were turning. Your body was pulling in different directions, it didn't even realize which way to fall.

"I got ya!" shouted Rachel, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. Gasping, you slumped to the floor, which was now really the floor. "I told ya I'd take care of it," Rachel smirked smugly, lifting you to your feet.

You both leaned against the wall. "Let's stand like this for a couple minutes so one of them doesn't turn things around for us again," you said, wiping your forehead.  

Rachel wanted to make a joke about your panting, but closed her mouth in time not to break the fragile silence. Standing in complete stillness in an unfamiliar random shelter, there was no room for fear or anxiety - you'd get out of here even without arms or legs because the strength was given by the fact that you were together. "Ya know," Rach began, chuckling at how hard you were breathing. " My hip joint almost fucking flew off while I was chasing that asshole," your tired breathing now hitched with laughter.

It was time to square your shoulders and walk with confidence - something crackled and rattled at the foot of the high-rises, filling the unusually quiet place with menacing sounds. You bent down involuntarily, covering the back of your head as something exploded - a deafening wave roared through the place, bringing more destruction. The people you left behind immediately came to mind, and more importantly Megumi and Issu, who were in the midst of this chaos. No longer worried about your own safety, you looked out the window - the dark sands were covered in a crust of fluttering purple flames, and though its tongues were small, even from this height you could feel the heat it gave off. You could see the dark silhouettes that were slowly approaching the high-rises - everyone knew you were here.

Rachel, walking over to the window, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Well," she said, clucking her tongue, trying to fumble for a lighter. "Oh shit," she got frustrated, haphazardly touching her pockets, and not finding one, glanced at you resentfully. You, raising your eyebrows in confusion, shrugged. You hadn't stolen anything this time.

Chewing frustratedly on the filter of an unlit cigarette, Rachel stared at the shadows walking across the purple fire - from here they looked so tiny she could crush them with her finger. Behind them, splinters of barracks were flying apart, but what was surprising was that the wave of invisible impact was sweeping away the demons themselves. "What the...," Rach muttered with a cigarette in her teeth, and, resting her hands on the windowsill, she leaned out harder and peered at the creatures, trying to see the cause of the invisible mayhem. Only when she squinted did she see the hearts of some of them flare up and then go out, the demons melting like candles to ashes and sinking into the sand. Slowly, she looked around the space with a wandering and disobedient gaze, and saw a black top of the head - Megumi was standing on one of the distant barracks, endlessly turning a triangle and dodging the shadows that tried to reach him with their claws. Suddenly, the tip of her cigarette lit itself. "Holy shit," she mumbled, almost dropping the cigarette. "Thanks!" yelled Rachel at the top of her voice, laughing. "Ya saw that, huh?" she asked cheerfully, rubbing your shoulder.

"He's gonna kill himself like that," you alarmed, looking at the number of demons disappearing.

"The boy is just crazy," Rachel giggled. "I like him!" she clapped her hands together and was immediately alerted - a blow from someone else, raising a new wave, blew the demons apart. "And what's that? We didn't teach him something like this," she said, squinting suspiciously. "Could it be that... What's his technique there? Origami?"

"Shikigami," you corrected her.

"Didn't he have some kinda... What the hell is it," she scratched the top of her head, absently trying to remember something about the Ten Shadows technique. "Haromaga? Monorada?"

"Mahoraga," you intervened again, for which you received a ringing slap on the forehead. "Stop hitting me!"

"Okay," Rachel perked up, fixing the strands sticking out - the girl straightened her back, smoothing hair out with her palms. You grinned - your sister was the only person who fancied herself before a fight. "I won't tolerate some underage kid fighting alone," she snorted. "And better than us, too, it seems," she added more quietly, pouting her lips. "We'll hold them off," she winked at you, sitting down on the windowsill and flipping her legs over. "And ya do what ya have to do," as soon as you nodded, your sister flew down - leaning your arms and looking over to where the girl had jumped off, you couldn't see her anymore. Rachel was probably already among the deadly shadows, where the main threat was herself.

You didn't want to lose a moment that hadn't come yet. When you climbed to the roof, you caught your breath - it wasn't like the waterfalls of the Amazon or the meteor craters scattered across the Earth - it was truly something out of your mind. The violet glow of the core slipped through the cracks of the rocks, spreading over them with a liquid sheen. Here, in the immediate vicinity, there was a low humming sound that gave the core life - it didn't look like inanimate matter from this distance, and, to confirm your guess, it shrank slightly like it were mimicking a beat on purpose.

You stood staring, mouth open, forgetting why you'd come here in the first place. It was like a hypocritical plea - it was trying hard to keep you in place, mesmerizing you, reminding you that it was the sun for you, too. If you stared long and shamelessly at a star from such a distance, you could easily go blind, burning - you had forgotten all about it in your self-imposed oblivion. You sighed briefly in surprise when you could no longer see anything - you lifted your hands gently and tried to listen.

Your eye contact with the world was broken, but you could hear your guest's frequent breathing, feel the heat of his body. You put your hands out in front of you and slowly backed toward the edge of the roof, turning your head slowly, trying to catch the sound of their footsteps. You stopped, barely feeling your heels hang in the air - you had no choice but to lure the creature, to force it to switch places with you. Breathing often, you, spreading your arms, took the last step back – it became easy in your head, the flight cleared your head and took away all thoughts, and you, already breathing steadily, closed your blinded eyes.

The demon, disbelieving, walked as carefully as he could to the edge where you had just fallen off - only his parts and the people who were killing them fiercely were down there. His black eyes darkened with rage as another of the pieces connected to him shattered into dust, and he didn't notice the edge of a dark dagger sticking out of his own heart.

As soon as it merged with the eternal road of life's path, you immediately saw the light. You slammed your eyes shut and wiped your tear-stained eyelids, and stared at the core again, this time cruel and unrelenting. Ignoring his pleas, you stepped to the edge, into the light of its seeping rays.

"Offset."

The quiet hum became a long rumble. The core was shouting, warning you and the others of the danger. You struck it harder, and a stone broke off, and you thought it went straight to your heart - a sharp pain pierced your body, and you fell to your knees and almost flew down. A sickening lump came to your throat that you couldn't swallow or spit out. You looked down at your hand, suspecting the worst, and your fingers were already covered in dark lines.

As you rose on shaky legs, you almost fell again. Breathing heavily, you continued to chip away at the core's reverently constructed defenses as the stones flew down one by one, but the purple light resisted, trying to pull them back up.

"Offset."

Forgetting the danger, you pressed at the core even harder, and the blood vessels in your eyes began to burst. It shuddered, twitching, resisting, and you felt something run down your face. Sweat or blood, it was washing over all your failed attempts, forcing you to keep going. The core could defend itself all it wanted, build a barrier of stones, but a shield without a sword was of no use.

The floor beneath your feet vibrated, making your weakened legs buckle as you fell to your knees, your bloodshot eyes fixed on your unwilling enemy. It didn't fight, it didn't cast spells or abilities, it didn't make you run after it, but it was the only thing that saw you in that helpless pose. Or rather, there was another creature.

Thinking of Rei gave you a second wind, a second anger to be exact. If you wanted to catch a ghostly hope of his appearance, you needed to destroy a lot more than one of those things. Gathering your strength and stabilizing the energy that was spilling over the edge, you hurled it straight into the heart of this place, the last rocks that had been holding their ground collapsed.

The light that illuminated the place made it so quiet that you couldn't even hear yourself breathe. It was so peaceful that you gave in to it and wondered if the places where part of you had come from were as peaceful. Should you have resisted and fought when you could have just surrendered to those who wanted you dead and gone to those distant lands?

When the light faded, you opened your eyes sharply, marveling at your own stupidity. It couldn't have been your thoughts - you shook yourself off sharply, saying it was from the dirt, but you were only chasing away whoever had unceremoniously made a mess of your head.

Under the darkness, the place began to grow cold. You took a step backward, shivering, intending to join the others, but something buzzed again, and you turned around - hadn't you destroyed the core?

Your fears were in vain - there was only darkness where the heart of the place had just been, but the ground was still falling away from under your feet. You watched as the high-rises folded into houses of cards one by one, raising huge, impenetrable clouds of sand and smoke. You realized with horrified realization and rushed to the other side of the still unharmed high-rise - the barracks, built entirely by human hands, remained standing. The creature inside had dulled your sanity by yelling and drawing your attention to itself, and you didn't feel the roof shattering beneath you.

***

Coughing up the dust, the others did their jobs as they should and with fire in their eyes as the voidrunners ran and relocated, not letting anyone touch them. Rachel stopped anyone who dared to approach her - she did so incompletely, deliberately taunting, leaving the demon to see and feel what was being done to it. Megumi, on the other hand, caught her excitement and set the heart of anyone who dared look in his direction on fire. Issu, sitting far away on the roof, only watched as the raven - creature that had gotten close to him was broken limbs and thrown to his distraught colleagues.

The demons, deprived of their source of life, were furious - some of them breathing heavily, clutching at their hearts, but many still continued to advance, driving the hunters in and around them. Rachel, without turning her back to the enemies, tried to discern each of them - who had what intentions? What were they going to do? For her, everything was happening in slow motion; she saw every glint of dark, hungry eyes, heard every heavy sigh.

When Fushiguro and Rachel were surrounded with only the barracks wall behind them, something twitched the girl's train of thought - she grabbed Megumi by the scruff of the neck and threw him to the ground. The boy didn't have time to react in any way, there was no time for a perplexed glance - there was a quiet creaking sound behind them, and as soon as it was cut short, there was a rumble of metal and wood. Turning around, Megumi saw the bottom of the barracks remained standing, but the top had been cut off in a neat line, and Fushiguro gulped, realizing that it was just at the level of his head. He looked around fearfully at your sister, but there was nothing but a couple scratches on her forehead. Some of the demons had a knack for cutting space, but none of the dark eyes screamed that it was them. "Where's Y/N?" he asked anxiously, dodging a shadow that skipped within an inch of him. "Is she dea-"

"No," she waved it away, ripping out the heart of yet another demon who dared to fling itself recklessly at her. "But if the lines have reached her heart, I'm afraid we've made a worse enemy than the rest of this lot."

The demons were becoming too many, and the reflex inside each of the voidrunners screamed, a reflex developed over the years - run. Run as far as they could, stay in one piece, get to the rift and find themselves back home, so they could come back stronger, take out more people and punish those who had forced the retreat. "We have to get out of here," Rachel warned, clasping her bloody side with the palm of her hand - the signal to retreat was that she hadn't even seen who had done it.

"Where do ya think ya're going?" you shouted, stepping out of the smoke and waving away the pesky dust. You were dirty from head to toe, covered in sand, and your eyes were bloodshot - Rachel noticed this and squeaked squeamishly, shivering. "We're not done yet."

Relieved that you weren't her enemy today, she squared her shoulders. What pushed Rachel even more was that she didn't want to look like a cowardly wuss in her little sister's eyes. "That's better," she clucked her tongue. "Chilling the fuck out while we've been working our asses off." You, shifting, found yourself in the circle of hunters. "So, same old-fashioned way?" grinned Rachel, looking down at you with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yeah," you chirped, picking up on her boldness. "Ya ready?" you asked Megumi, who was looking at you fearfully - the boy didn't understand at all what you were talking about.

"What are you talking about?" he managed to ask dazedly before you grabbed his arm and relocated him outside the range of your sister's ability.

"Tranquility."  

Everything around Rachel was frozen, the shadows no longer rustling and fussing, no more silhouettes flickering in front of your eyes, no more trying to cut your flesh or squeeze it, no more changing the space around you, the purple flames long gone, submissive and obedient, no longer burning your skin. In your hand was a dagger that exulted with you, begging to go free, to do as it pleased. "Kill as many as ya can," you turned to the boy, looking into his eyes. "We don't have much time," Megumi realized only now that Rachel was frozen in space along with the enemies surrounding her, dark patterns slowly but surely forming on her hands.

"She-"

"I'll have time to pull her out, don't ya worry," you assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now do your job."

Demons whose hearts were pierced and burned mixed with sand and dissolved - their fate did not even allow them a last word or breath. Leaving the worry of his own condition behind, Fushiguro aimed his gaze at every unwanted person and satisfied himself with his power. The boy couldn't even see your outline, you just disappeared, but he knew you were doing the same - the random demons were crumbled into powder, and he thought he heard a low, guttural laugh - the madness that had awakened in him wanted to laugh too. All Megumi knew was that he came from the Zenin clan - beyond that, the story was obscure, and to his sudden shame, he realized that he had never been interested in the story of his origins. You were all united by a single unknown ancestor, but now Megumi felt a bond with you that could not be cut with scissors, axe, or fate - dishonored by the deeds of your ancestors and having adopted their disgraceful reputation as thugs and thieves, you all were not much different from them, but the past variables could not stand for a second - there was only one constant: the more demonic hearts were destroyed, the brighter they burned in the killers from the north.

The region around the star where the average temperature of the planet allows water to exist in the liquid phase

habitable zone in other words

The area beyond Mars

next ⊳

[snorky]

The Water Is Rusted, The Air Is Unclean, And There For A Second, I Feel Free

Hey y’all! After some consideration, I wrote a second part to ‘Cause This Is A Wasteland, My Only Retreat, in which this story takes place in the Defy The Stars!AU. The title is still based off of the song “Hell Above” by Pierce The Veil. I needed to give Quinn a good ending, and this might be it, and Brock Boeser and Elias Petterson make a guest appearance. I hope you all enjoy this fic! Take care of yourself!

Pairing: Platonic!Brock Boeser x F!Reader, Quinn Hughes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Mentions of major character death, Sci-fi weaponry, Angst, Not too proofread

Part One

—

—

Time passed. It had to. The universe couldn’t just stop because her best friend was lost during a battle. She lived without Quinn since he passed, but it just wasn’t the same. The beautiful sky of Genesis seemed to lack that bright blue. The soft green grass didn’t seem soft, nor green any longer.

It seemed as if she mourned endlessly during the night, her tears would bring him back to Genesis, rather than the cold, bitter air of space where he took his last breath. But, she knew it wasn’t possible. With the lack of technology in Genesis and a strict set of morals, the idea of Quinn being resurrected seemed blasphemous.

Her life eventually had to go on without him, despite the thought of that making her heart ache beyond any possible measurement. She continued to work hard in the Genesis military, dedicating the majority of her work, time, and energy to trying to put an end to the war. All while doing so, she dedicated it to living for Quinn.

She tried her best to see the world in all the bright colors she used to. She spent time with his family, mourning, and reminiscing about his life with them. Every day, when she wasn’t serving at the base, she spent time with his family and friends. Just like he wanted her to.

When she got promoted to Captaincy, she wished Quinn had been by her side, and maybe even being promoted along with her. He had the skill, the passion, and all the qualifications to make it, but he didn’t have enough time.

On one particular night, the winter air seemed much harsher than it was. The snow fell constantly, with the wind howling in her ears, her vision was slightly impaired. Trudging through the snow, she wandered towards the bridge Quinn and she always hung out at.

Memories came flooding back once she spotted the little bridge that arched over the frozen river. Slowly walking towards it, her footprints were left behind in the snow, trailing behind her. She sat down on the bridge, the cold snow brushing up against her, stars gleaming above her.

The stars were something she could easily get lost in, the large multiplicity of them made her mind wander endlessly. It was something both Quinn and she enjoyed doing, counting the stars and laying in the grass in his backyard. Eventually, as they grew older, they were both teased relentlessly if they remained in his yard, and so they wandered to other places in town where it was just the both of them, together.

She remembers his laughter as if she heard it yesterday, the way his eyes crinkled, and the way he smiled proudly, yet she wanted to hear it so desperately as if she had forgotten. 

Tears formed in her eyes, the cold, bitter air pricking at them like shrapnel from an explosion. Blinking, her warm tears rolled down her face, a stark contrast to the freezing temperatures, and she broke out into a sob.

Her bare fingers started to go numb as she idly drew shapes in the snow, a distraction from her thoughts. “I miss you so much.” Her words came out like a quiet mumble as she sniveled, her body shaking with each breath.

The night remained silent but listened to her as the wind seemed to whistle in the snow. A faint crunch of snow sounded, her attention immediately drawn to it. Slowly, she started to remember that some animals could’ve been present, but then again, which?

No elk nor bear should’ve been in the area, even if it was past sundown. It was a light footstep she recalled, and so those creatures were outruled. Frozen with fear, she made no quick movement in order to avoid drawing attention to herself, although she was sure it would’ve seen her anyway.

Her eyes scanned the trees beside the river, searching for—hoping for a lack of a creature. Time seemed to slow, creeping upon her gently, and she could feel the grasp of it. Between two birch trees, a figure stood there, slightly hunched over as if it didn’t want to be seen.

From what she could tell, it had dark hair compared to its complexion, and it looked eerily familiar. Almost as if she could recall each little detail with precision. The snow never stopped falling, distorting anything that was far away enough, and so she kept her guard up.

Only after a few seconds of her noticing the creature, it seemed to run away, snow crunching beneath its feet rather quickly as if it noticed her. Color drained from her face, an empty-bad gut feeling settling within her.

Once the footsteps of the creature seemed distant enough, she ran back towards her home, never once looking back in fear if she spotted something. Through the winding trees, blurry snow, and aggressive winds, the run seemed much more difficult, and she felt much more vulnerable than she should’ve.

As she arrived home, she didn’t feel any safer for some odd reason. Her training allowed her to be attentive, much more than the average person, and to the point of her feeling an unsettling pair of eyes on her.

Quietly and quickly, she made her way to her room, changing out of her winter gear into ordinary clothes. She lay in her bed, mind racing about what she could’ve seen in the woods. It couldn’t have been Quinn, despite how similar it looked. Her mind must’ve been playing tricks on her.

Morning came and she was called back onto duty for Genesis. She packed her bag with some essential belongings, clothes, and a journal, and then parted ways with her parents and siblings.

It was almost a routine thing, despite how serious it was considering she had a possibility of not returning home. Her parents understood deeply, especially after seeing the Hughes family after the loss of Quinn.

When she arrived at the base, it seemed much busier than usual. Soldiers made their way to the station that connected Genesis to outside of orbit. Commanders, Captains, and Generals gave tasks and orders. It was all much more hectic.

“Captain,” a man with a bold posture and golden hair spoke. “Welcome back.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Commander Boeser.” She smiled back. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“And you as well.”

They both shook hands, a formal greeting between them. She knew Boeser through Quinn since they both worked in the same department from time to time. As time went on, they all grew closer together, laughing at inside jokes, and sharing their dreams and passions.

Making their way down the corridor of the building toward the main control room, the hall seemed as vibrant as the outside sky. All Genesis government buildings were full of greenery and life, reflecting on the planet itself, and natural light shone through the clear glass ceilings.

When they made it to the main control room, they were greeted by another commander.

“There you are, Commander Boeser and Captain. Welcome.”

“Good morning, Commander Petterson.” They both said in unison.

“Lovely seeing the both of you here, despite the unruly circumstances of the weather,” he spoke lightly. “Unfortunately, we need the both of you working out of orbit for the next week.”

They both nodded in understanding, accepting their duties and their responsibilities given. The weight on Genesis seemed to be on their shoulders, but they wouldn’t let that get to them.

War continued to be rampant between Genesis and Earth, the fight never ceasing. It felt like a lost cause, but nonetheless, they continued to fight with all their forces. Protecting their world from the greedy palms of Earth that desired their pristine global conditions was their top priority. Genesis refused to succumb to the temporary desires Earth fell to.

“Will you both accept the risk and responsibility to lead the military?” Commander Petterson spoke, breaking her out of her thoughts.

They both spoke in unison, similar to a chant within a cathedral. “Yes, Commander.”

“We’ll contact you when you both arrive at the station.” He nodded. His eyes seemed darker than usual, tiredness and exhaustion evident.

Both Commander Boeser and she walked out of the main control room, back into the bright corridor, and towards the bay that held the small vessel that carried soldiers out onto the station outside of orbit.

They both changed from their on-planet uniforms to their exosuits, and waited in the lounge, a sense of discomfort filling the air. New and veteran soldiers waited in the same area, but it was evident who was who, where the rookies fidgeted nervously, and the veterans settled into their own routine.

The signal blared, startling a few people, and they stood in a single file line. As she boarded the vessel, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. She knew that this could’ve been her last trip, but she so badly wanted to go against it.

Slowly, they took off and headed towards the station, the green planet of Genesis fading away, being replaced by tiny dots of stars that scattered the ether. When they landed at the station, everyone was ordered to move from the vessel onto the station. Everyone drifted from their seats and through the tunnel that connected the two ships together.

Zero-gravity was always something that fascinated her, the idea that something could just float so effortlessly, almost flying through the air gracefully. It was one of the few things that Quinn and she talked about often when they were younger. They had a shared love for many things, but especially that.

Once everyone had boarded the station, they remained in the main area as the tunnel to the vessel closed. It had windows from the ceiling to the floor, showcasing the vastness of space just from that one area of the ship. 

She settled into her own routine that consisted of breathing deeply, relaxing her muscles, and taking time to allow herself to not feel too pressured. Being the Captain of a specific fleet meant a lot to her, especially because she wanted this since she was a little girl, playing pretend spaceship with Quinn in his backyard, running freely in the hills. She had to lead with minimal fear, with courage and confidence, she had to be brave for Quinn.

Waving her hand and signaling to the operator to activate the artificial gravity, the lights switched from a soft, bluish hue to a green one, which notified the soldiers about it and allowed them to brace themselves before the gravity kicked in.

When everyone landed, she started to give orders. “Alright.” Her voice held a strong confidence, and yet she could feel it waver slightly. “I need those of Fleet Two-Dash-Seventy to head to their fighter ships. Make sure to check your systems and engines, as well as your exosuits and helmets along with your vitals.”

They all made their way down the corridor that connected the main area to the bay that held the individual fighter ships, boots stomping against the ground. It sounded like the beat of a drum, thumping similarly to a heartbeat.

She glanced over to Commander Boeser, noticing the stiffness of his posture. He reminded her of when she first became Captain, nervous and afraid of making a mistake, the pressure seemingly beyond possible limitations it seemed.

“Easy there Commander’.” She chuckled. “You’ll lead your fleet just fine,”

He nodded in response and gave her a soft smile. “For Quinn.”

They both knew Quinn since they all joined the Genesis military in the same year, graduating at the top of their classes together. The three of them all strived to reach some level of authority or leadership, not for the power, but for hope of a better future. They all wanted to make a change and leave an impact behind.

Making their way to the bay, they started the engines of their ships and got in. It felt comforting, in the way that something routine or familiar was. The danger was always lingering in the atmosphere, awaiting for the right moment to arise, but the feeling of knowing how to handle it dissipated it.

As the ships launched out into space, the stars seemed to blur past them, a streak of white dots and fuzzy colors. She would never get tired of the beautiful view. It was always something she had dreamed of seeing, the mesmerizing stars and colors of the vast space. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, setting her up for readiness in the state of battle as she gripped the yoke of her fighter ship. She navigated through the small asteroids and debris easily, like second nature in her soul, and she felt minimal panic or unease. At least, for the most part. Once her systems spotted a fleet of mechs approaching, she knew she had to take action.

Pressing the button that activated the communications system, her hands showed no sign of unsteadiness. “Notifying all those in this area within the Genesis fleet. We have located a large number of mechs within the area. Proceed with caution.” Multiple ships notified her with positive affirmations, alerting her that they received her message. She set the gear of her ship to a higher level, allowing her to fly with more power in less amount of time, and then repeated her message.

Steering her ship in a downward motion to avoid a blast from a mech fighter, she knew it was going to be a much tougher fight. What scared her more was that this fight resembled nothing similar to the fight that took Quinn away from her. It was much worse than that.

Ship after ship came flying by, dangerously close to her own, and she reached for the communications system once more. “More mech fighters within the area, proceed with caution!”

“Copy that Captain,” Boeser spoke.

As a mech fighter flew directly at her, she quickly rolled over, dodging the mech by a mere sliver of space. She held her breath and prayed to some higher power that there wasn’t a Genesis fighter right behind her who was unaware of what was to come after she dodged the mech.

 Another mech fighter came hurling towards her at a rapid speed, and she fired at it instinctually, causing it to split into tiny pieces, drifting apart like stars.

It always caused her internal turmoil when she fought from time to time, considering how much of a human likeness the mechs had. A tactic beyond manipulative, and yet she still fought with all of her passion and might.

Turning her ship around a large chunk of debris, she spotted a chillingly familiar fighter ship, the blue and green stripes bold against the silver surface. It couldn’t be him. He wasn’t here.

And there he was. His messy brown hair stuck to his forehead in his helmet, gentle and angelic as ever. The soft roughness of stubble on his jaw. The look of sheer determination and confidence he always held. Every bit of him in the highest glory.

Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. She couldn’t lose focus now, especially since she was in the middle of a major fight.

Gripping the yoke with her hands, she swiftly navigated her ship beyond what looked to be Quinn’s, and towards the fighter mechs. As she was doing so, she logged an unknown ship within the area to the database, and informed others through the communications system about it.

“Attention! Unidentified ship within the area—” The sound of other Genesis fighters logging in this information onto their ship could be heard, movements almost frantic. “Keep on high alert for a silver fighter ship, blue and green diagonal stripes on the side.”

She knew the number of his ship by heart, the double-digit of forty-three that he logged onto his ship every time. And yet, her ship wouldn’t register his number as recognizable, which was odd considering that each Genesis fighter ship had to have their number on display at all times.

Did he intentionally hide the number? Maybe it wasn’t really him. All these thoughts bubbled in her mind, causing her to swirl in light nausea before she was snapped back into reality.

“Commander Boeser speaking, are you active?”

“Yes Commander Boeser. Affirmative.” She messed up and lost her focus for a moment. It could’ve been devastating, but she was lucky this time.

“Copy that.”

Her eyes drifted beside her for a brief moment, and she caught the familiar ship in her vision again. Keeping her focus on the view in front of her, more mechs started to drift in, and she fired at each with precision.

As soon as the amount of mech fighters present in the area started to decrease, she quickly called an order through the communications system. “All Genesis fighters, head back to the station. Fighting has begun to cease and we advise you to head back to the station,”

Multiple fighters responded quickly in affirmation and from what she could tell on the navigational systems, no casualties have occurred during this fight, despite how heavy it was. A small smile formed on her face, in both pride for the fleet and gratefulness for their strength.

The fighter ships flew back towards the station as Commander Boeser and she kept track of them, taking into account each and every Genesis fighter ship. It was beautiful seeing all the simple, yet pretty design each fighter chose for their ship as it flew past like vibrant shooting stars.

Once all the ships started to dock in the bay, she followed behind them, checking one final time to make sure that all ships were in the bay, afraid of abandoning a miscounted one.

“Don’t you miss me, angel?” A familiar, soft voice spoke through the communications system.

That couldn’t be possible, no. The communications system was strictly between Genesis fighters, specifically coded that way in case of an emergency. But she was so sure that was his voice. The voice she had longed to hear for ages it seemed.

She cleared her throat and spoke, nervousness wavering in her voice. “What is your name?” Her hands shook slightly as she held the radio, unsure if she should flee and return to the station, or stay and allow her curiosity to get a hold of her.

His voice lured her in, like a siren’s song. “Please don’t tell me that you forgot me, please,” he pleaded. His voice sounded so broken, most likely from the hijacked communications system, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason.

“This is Commander Boeser speaking, are you active?”

“Yes, Commander—” Her communications system glitched for a brief moment, evident in the dull hum in the background with her voice cutting out briefly. “My communications system appears to be malfunctioning—”

“Report back to the station as soon as you can, okay Captain?”

“Yes, Commander Boeser.”

Her navigation system was still working properly, with signals being able to be sent and received, but her communications system seemed to struggle slightly.

“Meet me at the bridge, our bridge,” Quinn—maybe Quinn—spoke.

—

As soon as she was released from her week of out-of-orbit service, she headed back home to her parents, the familiarity being something that she always welcomed with open arms. Her parents and siblings greeted her with kindness and warmth, something that was needed during the cold and dark winter.

When they finished dinner together, laughing and chatting, savoring the crumbs and bits of life, she excused herself and left, promising to be back soon. Even if she was an adult now, she still felt the responsibility to not worry her parents to the point of sickness as a habit of growing up.

The air remained cold, just like the night she trudged out into the snow to see the bridge again. Midnight sky hung in the air, barely illuminating the ground below. Everything remained the same, almost pristine and untouched as a fresh layer of snow had fallen in the past week.

It crunched underneath her boots with each step she took, breaking the silent night. She approached the bridge, still the same as she remembered from her childhood, and sat on it, overlooking the frozen river.

Snow whirled around her, drifting in the air as it fell to the ground softly, unlike raindrops that splattered. The wind continued to howl, but it seemed quieter tonight.

Snow crunched behind her, a sound that broke the silence again. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. A promise was a promise.

“You’re here.” The familiar voice spoke, a tone of surprise lacing his voice.

“I never wanted to leave.”

The snow crunched as he walked towards her, sitting on the bridge beside her. He faced the river, his expression a tired-sad-weary dream as he watched the snow fall from the sky. Silence drifted between them, slowly melting in with the snow that danced in the air. He looked so familiar and yet there seemed to be something that was missing from him.

“You didn’t forget me, right?” He kept his gaze forward, his head not daring to turn and face her.

The silence spoke more words than the both of them, expressing a ‘I didn’t forget you, but you don’t seem familiar to me any longer’ that fell from her lips without saying a word. 

She turned to him instead, analyzing his expression, trying to decipher and decode his words. “Quinn.” She spoke his name carefully, as if she wanted to test if it still felt right on her tongue, if it still felt right to say. “I missed you.”

What did she miss? She experienced all that she had, but Quinn, where was he when she experienced those things?

“Where were you?” Her words came out sharper than she wanted, similar to a mother who cares, worries too much about the whereabouts of her loved ones.

He moved his eyes towards her gaze carefully, and as quickly as he did, he looked away in shame. “I should’ve come to you sooner.”

“Tell me about it,”

“I didn’t die.” He stated this easily, as if it was just pure, simple, undeniable fact. It opposed what she saw with her own eyes. It opposed the fact that his navigation and communications systems disconnected as soon as the blast hit. “I escaped, barely.”

All Genesis fighter ships were equipped with an emergency system, where if manually activated, the cockpit of the ship could disconnect from the larger component that held the weaponry of the ship, leaving the ship defenseless.

“I made it away from the area of the fight, but I latched on to a mech carrier ship, and drifted back to Earth.” Regret dripped from his tongue as he spoke, his palms cradling his head as he looked down in shame.

She wanted to ask him so many questions, but it seemed improper to do so at this time. However, she had one question that she so badly wanted to ask. “Why did you not return to Genesis?”

“I don’t know.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the howling winds almost overtaking it. “I don’t think it was safe to try and fly back to Genesis, considering the amount of conflict going on in that area and where I was.” His fingers traced shapes and patterns into the snow beside him as he talked. “And so I latched and stayed low.”

Getting up from beside him, she started to walk away, he watched her as she did. His heart sunk, twisted, whatever it could to try and understand what went wrong, and he knew well what went wrong.

“Come,” she said quietly. “You need rest, honey.”

His head perked up at the sound of the nickname, noticing how it sounded so perfect, and he wanted to hear it more. He followed her as they both walked to her home, the one that neighbored his own with his family. It was a quiet walk, the midnight sky offering little to no light, and they were only guided by the memory of the path.

Walking beside her now, he slowly reached for her hand, and held it carefully, and she allowed him to do so, giving it a gentle squeeze once he did. His hands felt warm compared to hers, and it was a comforting feeling, knowing that he was, and will remain, beside her.

When they both stepped into the warm, cozy home, they quietly made their way to her room, dimly lit with a small table lamp, and he sat down on her bed.

It was the same as he remembered as a young boy, her collection of comic books and novels on her desk, paper stars hanging from the ceiling, her favorite stuffed animals sitting on her bed, it was a reflection of who she was.

“Go take a warm shower and then relax in here once you’re done.” She looked at him, noticing that he was wearing the base layers that he wore under his exosuit. Her heart felt so upset at seeing him like this, broken, lost, and most likely scared. “I have some spare clothes that I borrowed from you a few years ago,” she trailed off. “I’ll grab them for you.”

She walked to her closet, grabbing a neatly folded pile of t-shirts and gym shorts, all slightly large on her since they were Quinn’s. When she handed it to him, the look in his eyes was almost, grateful, and yet it was teary-eyed and sad. “Thanks.” His words were quiet, but the mood he expressed was far from silence. “Thanks for not forgetting,” his voice cracked slightly.

Turning around before she made her way out into the hall, she gave him a sad smile, “I could never forget you. Never in my lifetime.”

[0celesteisthebest0]

Floating in Space

Summary: Trapped in an enclosed ship with a stranger you've barely met, what could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 5,099

Pairing: Ezra x female reader (no y/n)

Authors notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO @julesonrecord !!!! from your Pedrostories Secret Santa :) I do hope you enjoy this dear friend and I hope your holiday season is calm and peaceful! I had so many ideas going into this and I really am happy with how this turned out so I hope you feel the same way. Thank you for @pedrostories for putting this event together and making this so fun and joyous for everyone involved.

Warnings: Porn with Plot?, face riding, cum eating, P in V, enemies to lovers? (they’re mean to each other and then they aren't), man handling, one bed trope, lots of sci-fi terms, and explicit language

——<><>—<><>——

Vibrancy shimmered through the gem as you angled them in the light. The delicacy of this small piece of pressurized rock always throws you off. How can something so small and insignificant change the course of your life.

Aurelac, a small jewel, so powerful in the Bakhroma system. This power doesn't only extend to one system or even governmental regime, it extends through bargaining between prospectors.

You didn't use that ability too often, afraid that you'd end up stiffed at the end of the exchange. Mostly when you traveled off world your confined yourself to your own little space. Maneuvering yourself out of risky situations was easy when you avoided any sign of prospectors on outer rim planets and you would often choose the emptier planet. Places like the green moon were of no interest to you. Too much variables that you could not predict.

It often lead you to areas just out of that satellites reach, somewhere where the sling back would take days to respond to movements. It wasn't as lush and full of dust as the green but it didn't mean it wasn't any less dangerous.

Especially with moments like these where you didn't have any thick trees covering you or a partner to cover your back. Tension rolled over your shoulders after successfully extracting your final aurelac stone. But you could still feel something over your shoulder, a sensation that made the middle of your shoulders pinched. With moments like these you had to suppress the feelings of flight that your body was pushing on you, to scurry away from any encounter.

So you slowly breathed in and deposited your treasure into a small safe. Shoving the safe into your pack, you looked at your surroundings slowly, checking whether their was someone or something really looking over you.

The barren land stood still as you lifted yourself from the soft soil. Not even the dust of the moons blew for you, it seemed that everything from the voice channels to the sounds of nature was quiet today.

There was always an association with quietness, an inner peace was achieved through silence. But living in a world of deep space, silence was often a suffocating force, pushing a harbinger of disaster and decay.

Only being able to feel your uneasy breathing didn't soothe your nerves. Pacing back to the security of your ship is the only way for this silence to go away, a place where you didn't have to constantly look over your shoulder to be sure someone wasn't there to hurt you.

The large strides did nothing to quell your beating heart, the gusts of hot breath fogged your suit, blurring your vision until all you saw was faded foliage leaking and blending into the colors of the auburn sky.

Crackling of the radio channels connected to the suit overlapped against the harsh steps of your suits boots. Uneasy connection kept fading in and out and you stopped trekking the hill that your ship was landed on, wanting to hear what might've been following you on this far away moon.

Hoping it wasn't a proposition for the gems you just extracted, you turned to knob of your helmet against your better judgement.

The slight turn made an enchanting baritone voice fill the confines of your helmet.

"The gleam of your eyes besiege me my dear, for I have traveled to see beauties and all I see is you. The sky above you has the pleasure to preen and plume under your ethereal glow, oh how Kevva has forsaken me for not guiding me to your loving gaze sooner. "

You stood frozen to your spot, heart racing from much more than a flight or fight response. This has to be a trick against you, a ploy to keep you off your path back to the pug, to the worries of your life that beckon your attention. Yet here you were getting lured by the siren's call of enchantment and passion.

Maybe the loneliness has finally driven you mad, there was no way that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Turning every direction to see whether you were experiencing some delirium from the constant trips you were making to pay of debts and loans you've taken from people on the pug.

In the distance you think you could see a figure going towards you. Backing away, you decided it was best to run from the immediate danger of an unknown entity trying to seduce you into the unknown.

"Run!" The same voice from before echoing a much more grim sentiment. Just one single word sent immediate shivers down your spine and that made your jog turn into a full sprint to the safety of your ship.

Sharp and quickening exhales of shaky breathe was stinging your lungs, the harsh land was crumbling under your boots made the ground uneasy. The following steps made you sink into the floor, your leg getting caught in the underbrush of the dead trees.

Stuck, unable to move, unable to breath without the sting of your lungs hurting your chest. The upcoming danger of what's been following you now has caught you in it'd trap. Your loneliness has officially trapped you.

You did your best to try to pull away from the thick roots but all it did was pull at your ankle.

"Fuck!", You were gasping for air at this point and it didn't matter to you that your voice could be heard from the voice channels.

"While I do appreciate your posthaste following of instructions, I did not mean for your to run and trip." The crackling sounded much closer than it originally did and a heavy weight started to pull at your leg, cutting at the roots of the underbrush. Whoever this predator of the moon was, they were pulling at your arm to try and get you up from your dismay. Your body on instinct turned to dead weight. There was a grunt from your efforts to not get picked up and finally there was a huff heard in your ear.

"Movement is indeed appreciated but it seems to me that you have already accepted a fate that has not been written yet. So I urge you to get up before you truly lack the ability to do so. " His words didn't sound as harsh as his tone came across, so you acted accordingly to his final warning.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept your hands off me," he was helping you, yes, but it meant nothing in the larger schemes of things. Especially since he was the voice from before, this could all be a trap if you aren't careful.

His hands lifted in surrender and slowly inched away from you, despite that he seemed to be constantly looking over his shoulder for something.

"I do believe introductions should come after we move away from this clearing. There is something out there and despite my demeanor I do not take kindly to strangers." The mysterious man started to move up the hill not waiting for you to move with him. With no other choice, you caught up with him, your breath still trying to recuperate itself. "Now where is your ship."

You stopped and turned to him, the worries of before vanishing with that very statement.

"My ship? I'm not letting you on my ship. " You eyed at the stranger, waiting for any movement.

"If it's a death wish you crave, so be it. I have no desire to escape death twice," annoyance tinting his static filled voice. "Make it easier for yourself and give me your starter."

Ever-growing exhaustion stung the muscles of your legs, but you did as you do best and ran.

You could get to the ship before this stranger took your only home away from you.

Pushing yourself to the top of the hill, your battered up ship shined bright in the Bakroma sun. Salvation was only a couple of steps away, you could feel the soft material of your small cot on your skin.

The only skin contact your feeling right now is a harsh shove to the ground by the unwelcomed stranger. His body encompassed yours fully, you could hear him heaving in frustration.

"Now I do appreciate a good chase but I am quite sick of this game." His arms pinned your wrist, his helmet bumping into yours awkwardly. Big brown eyes leered at you, shining brighter than any aurelac gem you've ever seen. You couldn't quite look away from his steely gaze, even if he looked like he wanted you dead.

"This is a sick game you're playing, at sweet talk one minute, larceny the next," it was a ploy you knew it. But you still at least wanted some confirmation that he was doing all this for your treasuries.

His tension lessened at your words and immediately he let go of your wrists.

"Are you seriously, you're just going to let me-" he shushed you and looked towards the distance, way beyond your ship. Vines curling and expanding against the dying environment, with every gust of wind, the vines moved into shapeless lifeforms. The planet breathing into something chaotic and unsightly.

Beings that moved and breathed the planets life twitched and curled the thorny vines in your direction. Slithering to grab and pull you into the very planet, the thought of that made the planet quake underneath you.

No words were exchanged between you two strangers but it was either immediate death or uncomfortable survival. Picking the ladder, you grabbed onto the strangers arms and started tumbling towards your ship.

The vines seemed to grow around you two, almost encapsulating you in it's greenery. Shoving and pushing each other into the little ships door, the vines snapped and tried to pull your bodies closer to it's earth, luckily escaping with a resounding slam of the door.

Sprinting into action was all you could do as you went to the control board of your ships and charted your way back to the pug. The ship hummed to life as you punched your destination and guided the wheel upwards.

Unlike most freeing pushes of air the ship leaks out, the creaking of restraint pushed you into a further frantic state. Increasing the rate of the ignition did nothing to move you anywhere close to the atmosphere, you were at a stand still, no where to go and no ability to move.

Despite the ongoing frustration building in your throat, the stranger once again pushed you from your chair.

"This is a T9-27 I presume, the caliber can out do the resistance of the the creature with just a crank from the- " you knew where he was going with this and immediately tried to stop the ship from imploding within itself. But as your hands were reaching towards his, metallic crushing was making the ship lean against the ground, the past height that reached is now just sinking into the ground.

In a last ditch effort, your pulled on the crank, making the dying engine roar. Emergency signals turned the ships interior a bright and blinking red and white, telling you to stop this plan before it even started. All your craved now was salvation so the words that tumbled out of your mouth were purely from a need to survive.

"Increase the altitude! " you yelled as you scurried off to the other side of the ship, trying to increase the coolants to the engine by twisting and turning knobs in hopes that you wouldn't crash. Thankfully the stranger pushed your ship to its limits and got the sputtering engine to lift itself higher into the stars.

Clunking of the vines still were heard but as you got farther and farther into the cosmos the remnants of the earth seemed to burn up behind you.

Slumping on the floor of your ship, your adrenaline was mixing with your pure exhaustion of the situation. You couldn't really give yourself a moment of peace either since now you are harboring an unwanted stranger in the confines of your ship. Eyeing the man warily, you looked at how he grew comfortable in the seat of your ship. This broad shoulders stretching and leaning to handle the modules controls. Crackling of the ships audio, made you focus on your knew potential predicament.

"Slingbacks operation system is at a halt, no request will be carried out till a full cycle. Thank you for your services and do continue using the slingback." The automated voice rung out through your ship, repeating itself in a constant loop. Getting annoyed with its third repeat, you went up to the main console system and put the channel on mute.

"Well friend, it seems to me we have time to get to know each other. A prospector with a ship is a mighty rich thing to find here in the fringeling. Why aren't you in greener parts, somewhere where aurelac isn't just under the surface? " The questions were a tad to uncomfortable for your taste. Ignoring them seemed like the best option at the moment, so you turned away from him to the little nook you called your room. You needed to get rid of your suit and put something more comfortable on.

Despite your deliberate ignoring of his questions, he still moved towards where you went to letting the ship run on autopilot. Rummaging through your cabinets, you tried to find your crew neck sweater to replace the sweaty clothes underneath the suit.

"I go by Ezra, do you have a name or are you not the talking type? Arguing seems like more of your strong suit if anything but that is simply just an observation on my part. Do you live on this vessel, that is a mighty interesting cot you have their, it has enough room for a guest if you would be so kind." You huffed a little at his insistence to insert himself to the fragile ecosystem that is your ship.

"I have slurry packs that you can have and the bathroom is at your disposal. Everything else is off limits," you stated quite sternly and proceeded to haphazardly take off your suit.

"What hospitality you give so graciously, I must humbly ask if you can spare a blanket for the cold floor, if you so please." His sarcasm was chockful in his statement and you felt like immediate groan slip from your lips.

"I am not going to share my bed with a stranger who is potentially trying to take my treasures from me." You didn't turn towards him as you said your peace, you simply just grabbed an extra blanket and gave it to him. "Now excuse me, I have to change. "

Ezra's movements were slow, but his words didn't seem to match his pace.

"This loneliness must kill you. Spending all these cycles alone without a companion. It makes sense to your harsh attitude towards someone who was trying to help." That alone set you off.

"Please, you act as if you know every little thing about me. How can I have a companion if their is no trust between prospectors. Of course I'm not going to have faith in you, all the encounters I've had with people on the fringe range from trying to kill me or trying to steal from me." This time you turned around, you had to face him headfirst to show him you meant business. "Especially with that stunt you were trying to pull before the planet started attacking us, I have every right not to trust you!"

Ezra's lips twisted, he finally had nothing to retort back at you, his brows seemed to furrow at your implication that he tried to trick you in some way. Huffing at his lack of response you grabbed your clothes and wondered to the bathroom to see if you could change in peace without a constant presence surrounding you.

A quick slip in and out of clothing, you tucked the sweat filled clothes in the tiny hamper you left in the room. Unease filled your stomach as you turned to the door out of the restroom. Wishing you had a moment alone again was all you hoped for but the stars above you were often cruel forces. So you pushed yourself out, trying to not make eye contact with Ezra. His chatter returned once you made it into his field of vision though and he seamed to want to continue your previous argument.

"I pulled no stunt on you to get to your ship or your treasures. I needed refuge from the thing that was calling out there. If anything I was lured into your trap, you were calling my name for help and stupidly I followed. " You scrunched your face in confusion what does he mean that you pulled him into a trap?

"I never called for help. You were the one practically flirting with me through the channel, getting me distracted!" You poked at his chest, noticing that he took off his suit and remained in a simple black tank top and trousers. A single tan arm caught your attention, there were scars from his prospecting adventures but his most prominent scar seemed to be replaced with a metallic arm.

"You seem distracted right now," he grinned at you, enjoying the long looks at his body. "Care to share what my imposter said to get you off your course?"

"It was nothing. Quite frankly it was unimportant if you weren't the one saying it. " If Ezra wasn't the one saying it than who was?

"Well it is mighty important to me if it got the two of us stuck in this situation, so why not divulge me in my curiosity and tell me what I didn't say?" He moved closer to you, slightly crowding your space, you were close enough to notice his crescent moon scar.

Trying to brush aside any feelings from before, you wanted to figure out the potential mystery of what attacked you both on the lonely moon. Ezra seemed more entranced by the idea of teasing you for whatever reason, but it is becoming distracting to say the least.

"Please, I think it's strange that the planet was able to interfere with the radio so easily maybe it could-" Your thoughts were caught off with the flickering off lights going one again but instead of the red from the overheating the counsels lights were flickering. "Fuck no!"

Removing yourself from Ezra's presence you ran to the main counsel to see what was going on and if your hasty decision to survive was the reason for your ships slow decline of disuse. The blinking monitor sent a message signaling that the temperature of the ship was going to shut down from the lack of coolant.

Sighing into your hands you have officially wished this day would be over, everything that could go wrong has happened. Footsteps of Ezra moved slowly close to you, his warm hand clasped over your shoulder and tried to soothe your fried nerves.

"If the only issue is temperature changes, we'll be able to survive with shared warmth." His statement lingered in the air and for what you've had to deal with today, the idea of being surrounded by another person's warm body sounds peaceful.

"I do only have one cot so if you have any objections with close proximity- "

"I have no qualms sweet star, now I only hope that you aren't mortified with having to share a space with a stranger." He eyed you, trying to see whether or not your previous feelings still carried weight because of revelations you have made or necessary circumstances that have occurred.

"As long as you aren't trying to take my aurelac or my ship again, then I won't bite." You promised him, a little uneasy about what possibly this could mean to you in the long run.

Ezra didn't seem phased by your acceptance, he just smiled a little wider and pulled your body closer to his. Warmth engulfing you like it never has before, Ezra maneuvering you to your small dwelling. Effortlessly he pulled your body so that it is snug against his, chest against chest, your eyes meeting his blown pupils that twinkled similar to the precious stone that you've extracted not long ago.

"I must say, whatever my imposter said to you couldn't have been so scandalous that you proceeded to fight with me any second you could get. So what was it that lead you to a rage with me, a complete stranger who came to your aid, " his hands roamed your back, exploring the new found touch that was previously limited to pushing you away.

"I didn't realize you were so touchy," his movements stilted a bit, now hesitant by any move.

"I can stop-"

"No-please don't. I just didn't expect it." His exploratory movements continued and the wall of distrust seemed to flicker. You know nothing about him, if he is true to his word or just blowing hot air and you could lie and tell yourself that this is all for your survival. The lowering temperatures can cause you both to freeze to death but it wouldn't be immediate. Yet you were here cuddled against a man whose warm body and broad arms seem to engulf any movement you made.

"You do not answer questions well do you?" He hummed, hands seemingly fixated on the small of your back.

"I don't answer questions that don't interest me," you stated plainly, letting your own hands wander against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against your fingertips.

"Interesting philosophy, yet painfully fixated only on your perspective." You scoffed, his long lashes batted at you innocently as if he wasn't telling you that you were stuck on how you view things. " All I wonder is what the planet could've said to you to make our paths meet is all then I will shut my mouth and let you float away into sweet dreams."

Sleeping in such a warm and comfortable state seemed like a dream in itself, being embraced while drifting away was becoming more and more possible by the minute and Ezra wasn't too keen is stopping you. Yet the looming question still seems to circle his mind, maybe as a gift to him you'll just tell him what got you sidetracked and distracted.

"You-well the planet, it used your voice to call me pretty in a rather poetic way. Nothing scandalous just that," his eyes swooped down at your features, lingering on your lips until he met your eyes again.

"It was right, you are quite an ethereal beauty, there is no shame in admitting you were distracted by that." His calloused hand moved from your back to your face, tilting your chin up so he could see you in the muted light of your room. "Your beauty distracts, and I simply must devour it whole."

His kiss was searing, warmth that you felt from your fingertips to your center. Engulfing matter, devouring what it wanted from you and how you yearned for it to eat you up. Strangled gasps and groans shared between the two of you increased with the pressures and weight of each kiss. Incessant hands pull your body on top of his, slightly grinding against his groaning length.

Your whining elicits ad guttural groan from him and he began to babble on about something, hips pushing against yours.

"Ez-ra" your choked out moan stopped his blistering kisses, but it didn't stop his motor mouth from spewing everything that his mind supplied him.

"A treasure beyond the stars, I need to taste you, I need you rutting against my mouth until your begging and whining for me to stop. Fuck I need to know how you taste against my lips, something so sweet- " he trailed off, slowly losing himself with the feeling of you against him. Both you and him are too painfully touch starved to function.

The hand that isn't fixed on your hips, moves upwards to your stomach than to your breasts. His metallic hand cooling the bubbling heat that he created, kneading and pulling at your sensitive nipples. The shock of temperatures made you shiver and heave for more.

"Take off your clothes and ride my face sweet thing. I don't want to be able to talk because your beautiful cunt is stopping me from speaking." His hands reached for your shirt, taking it off swiftly same with your bra. Desperation growing between you, as you tried to pull his shirt off of him to feel more of his skin against yours. " Sweetness I need you naked first, you could have me however you like in a moment. "

Whining at the thought of taking him however you'd like, you complied with his request and started to strip yourself of any remaining clothes. Wetness leaked onto your inner thighs as you displayed yourself to him. His eyes grew darker and he instantly pulled your thighs to his face. His statement from before becoming a reality now as you hover over his face not wanting to crush him.

Ezra instantly did not care if you suffocated him or not and pulled your hips directly to his face and quickly started to lick up the wetness that started to gather around your opening. Your moans of surprise only seemed to spur him on and his tongue started the lap with more vigor. Eating you out nice and slowly was not his plan, he wanted to devour your whole being and you craved it. Craved it so much you started to grind against his face, needing mores simulation on your clit.

Whimpering a little from a need of more simulation you moved your hand away from the support of the cot and started to rub circles against your sloppy wet clit. Gasping at the added stimulation, the coiling feeling of pleasures expanding was ready to burst and Ezra seemed to notice with your unsteady thrusts. His hand reached for yours and held it to your hip. Then he started sucking on your clit with force, his only goal to make you come hard on his face.

Shakiness of your thighs and legs were signaling how close you were, how much you needed this and with a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your legs and thighs spasmed with release. Bright burst of lights flooded your senses, shimmering and lengthened by Ezra's insistent need to drink you fully.

Teetering on the edge of over stimulation Ezra flipped your slumped body firmly on the cot. Your tired back hit the familiarity of your cot and you instinctively reach out for him. You needed his warm skin against yours, anchoring you to the present where he touched you and made you feel worshiped.

Ezra stripped himself of his clothes and let your arms loop against his neck, his has fitting against your neck where he safely murmured his wants and needs to you. His plump lips sucking on the tender flesh of your neck making your hoarse voice cry out for him, needing him in any form he'd give himself to you. You just needed him.

"Need you inside-please," you moaned, hoping he'd fuck you so hard that you wouldn't have to think of the nauseating horror of the world outside your little bubble.

"Fuck-sweetheart, I'm a lot bigger than your used to. I gotta prep you so it doesn't hurt." You whined at that, you want him to be frantic just like before, not at all careful. Looking at what he meant by that you eyes his weeping tip, precum smearing down his cock. Drool escaped your lips at he beauty of him and you needed him inside you even more now.

"Please- you can go slow and fuck the tip in only," your fingers reached to your entrance, spreading them wide so he can see how bad you need it. Ezra couldn't help but whimper at the sight of you and finally tapped his shaft against your slightly overstimulated clit making you moan in the process. He slowly gathered the wetness, not quite going inside your entrance but tapping the tip on it.

Pumping his cock, you couldn't help but clench at the noise he made. He smiled at how shameless you've become in such short hours and he started to slowly insert the tip of his dick inside of you. He was following the instructions to a T and only fucking his fat tip in you, making you get used to the width before getting any more length in you.

You couldn't help but start to get antsy, you wanted everything now, you started to become greedy and your inhibitions continued to dissipate. You begged for more, tearing up because you weren't full of him yet.

"I thought you just wanted the tip sweetheart," Ezra teased, his previous frantic exterior has been reeled in just so he could tease your for being so needy. "You gotta ask nicely, be a good girl and tell me what you want. "

At this point your mind was swimming and begging for more pleasure, it wanted to drown in everything Ezra has to offer.

"Please I want-fuckk…I want you to fuck me, make me feel full." You tried to pull him closer but he stopped you in your tracks. Instead he slowly pushed himself inch by inch until he pulled himself out and start the process again. At this point you were drooling and the feeling of him going so deep only to feel empty again was killing you.

Ezra's teasing finally stopped once he pushed himself fully inside of you and started moving at that harsh pace. Wet noises and high moans fill the rooms as Ezra's pace continues to fold you in two. Slapping of skin and sweaty bodies overtake your senses and with the onslaught of his brutal pace your body tumbles into another orgasm before you can even register what the sensations you were feeling. Darkness covers your visions and after you clench around him he soon follows, coming inside you leaving you warm, the threat of cooling temperatures doesn't even feel possible anymore since you and Ezra have joined together as one.

Slowly and softly you felt like you faded into the vastness of the cosmos. You might be floating in the deep vacuum of space but you are tethered to a force that echoes and craves you.

It seems like you were stuck with Ezra and frankly you were more than okay with that.