#advanced find and replace in excel

[kawhh]

Hi can we talk for a sec okay let’s talk

this is a pretty tame thought compared to everything else you write so sorry in advance

vampire!jack. Right.

he’s in a silly mood. he wanted O+ blood specifically and the bank sent O- and now he’s pissed. throwing the glass of blood at the wall and crossing his arms.

enter you, his delightful, mortal girlfriend who’s about 400 years younger than him, who also hates when jack doesn’t get what he wants.

solution? you introduce him to other ways he can quench his thirst. he’s been around for a while and eating pussy is an ancient art but god you were something else.

you trust him not to bite you because that was the first establishment in your relationship but in the process he sinks his teeth in your inner thigh.

claiming you.

etc etc etc

My love, it never matters how tame it is. I'm not even against trying to dabble more with fluff.

"He's in a silly mood" = he's throwing glasses. I'm cracking up.

Warnings: I can't be trusted to be normal about the AU. You find him slightly scary but apparently not enough to be reluctant about offering yourself up on a platter. He's well behaved until he's not. Restraining you physically, keeping secrets. Not proof-read.

He'd be such a pissy little brat about the blood. He'd find reasons to complain about everything about it. The wrong blood type, the wrong temperature. He heated it up too much, or not enough. Or how it just apparently tastes different sometimes.

He was frustrating and honestly a little scary when he was angry. He'd often sit there in silence, pouting, watching you with this absolutely feral look in his eyes, fully making you feel like prey.

Outside of his anger, he was pretty good about it. You could almost believe he wasn't a vampire. His self control was excellent, he never looked at you with hunger in his eyes. He never used his vampire strength against you, always managing to keep every touch light.

He'd promised to never bite you, to never scare you. You hadn't established many rules for your relationship, wanting to somewhat treat it like an everyday, normal partnership, but there were a few base rules.

The promise to never bite you, the promise to never scare you on purpose. The promise to never lash out in anger towards you and no attempts at hypnotizing you.

They've been set for months and he's never even come close to breaking them. He'd rather die again than hurt a hair on your head. He's careful with every action, not wanting to accidentally break one of them either.

He's barely even sexually touched you. He's not fully sure that he can keep himself in control, doesn't know how much you would tempt him, how he'd resist the urge to speed up just slightly past humanly possible while buried inside you.

You'd never tried to encourage it either, until now. Until you can't shift the pout from his face, watching him get hungrier and hungrier. He can't even control his fangs now, they're peeking out of his mouth, he's running his tongue along them like he's trying to soothe himself.

You know it'll be hours before there's even a chance of him getting replacement blood. They try and deliver everything fast, but there's a limit. Especially if they know they're dealing with hungry vampires. It's often even written into their contract - things can go horribly wrong when they get out of control.

It's not like he could sneak some away from a hospital either. If he wasn't hungry and was more himself, maybe. But when he's struggling for control and hungry? It'd be like an all you can eat buffet.

He's watching you like a hawk as you get closer, you can see the protests forming on his lips. His eyes narrowing, darkening by the second. Widening again slightly as you keep moving towards him, pushing your weight against his shoulders to make him fall more into the couch.

He's confused and he's nervous. You're so close to him, closer than you should be when he's this hungry. He doesn't know what to do with himself when you straddle him. He's scared to open his mouth, to scare you. He's scared to touch you, he doesn't trust himself to control his strength.

The further you scoot up him, the harder he's inhaling. He can smell you. His hands hovering an inch away from your skin. He can almost taste you. You're turned on. He can smell the scent of your arousal almost masking the scent of your blood. It's intoxicating, but also confusing.

Venom's filling his mouth, his fangs working on overdrive, but he's cautious. You've never done anything together. Why are you suddenly... there's no mistaking your intentions. He's cautious but not stupid. You're so aroused, your underwear is almost transparent. He can see the outline of your cunt through them, your arousal slowly leaking out the sides, trailing down your thighs.

He can't resist your advances any more. He can't do much to stop you and you're clearly on a mission. He can taste you in the air, you're helping dampen his hunger. He's yanking you forward the extra few inches, smothering his face against your cunt.

You're soaking his lips as he nuzzles into you, not needing to breathe. Sliding his tongue up your inner thigh, dragging it along the fucking delicious skin between your thigh and pussy. Lapping at you like a cat. He's fucked. Truly fucked. You taste like heaven. You're so wet.

Why the fuck hasn't he done anything with you before? He can clearly... stay in control, right?

He's fine so far. He feels fantastic even. Sure, his brain feels like he's been shocked when he finally lets his mouth drift further to the side, dragging your underwear to the side with his nose, resting his mouth over your soaking wet hole, breathing in deeply. But he's fine. Totally in control.

His fangs ache against you, he's trying so hard to not knick you with them, he can feel them resting against you, almost lining your cunt.

He needs more to fully control himself, the ache still present. The hunger still claws at him. He's hesitantly sliding his tongue inside you, needing more from the source. He can feel his fangs inside of you now, sliding further in with his ever increasing need to be buried inside you. He can't get close enough, can't get enough.

He's fucked the minute he accidentally gets a little too rough, knicking you slightly with one of them, the sudden drop of your blood in his mouth making him panic, but he can't pull back. He's too addicted to your taste. He's in too deep.

Lapping at the little wound, whispering broken apologies that you can't hear into you. Fuck, you taste so good. The mix of your arousal, the taste of your cunt mixed with your blood? He could scream.

He's gripping you tighter. He's breaking almost every rule in the book, but you're just so delicious and he's just so hungry.

You taste so much better than the blood he has delivered. He doesn't know how he'll go back. He can only think about getting more from the source. The wound's already healing from his saliva and venom.

His grip on you pins you down in place, even as you squirm. You're probably complaining about him and the damn rules. He can't bring himself to care, feeling too far gone.

He knows the risks. Knows that biting you with his current intentions and feelings towards you could cause major problems, problems that he should be discussing with you. It's your fault. You're the one who offered your cunt up on a platter.

Gasping for air he doesn't need as he pulls back, his target set. He's striking before you can blink, his fangs digging deep into your inner thigh, his bite sending shocks of pain through you. You're whining, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to get him out of you.

His pulls of your blood are slow, he's dragging it out. His new favourite meal, he doesn't want to rush it. He knows he's being harsh, but you need to understand how badly he needs you.

He's almost edging your skin, lifting up slightly to make a mess, the blood dripping down your thigh before he's licking it up.

He won't explain the bond he's forming. He can't lose this. You can't be aware of the danger. He'll have a hard enough time getting blood from you again after this, you'll be like a startled cat.

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon

-

There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker. 

The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”

“It’s not—” 

He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out. 

Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out. 

It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour. 

“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning. 

“What is?”

“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look. 

“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.

She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”

“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”

“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”

You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.

The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time. 

It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy. 

Not so.

None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace. 

None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.

“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”

You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours. 

Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you. 

His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed. 

When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off. 

“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go. 

“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel. 

He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”

“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”

“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”

“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”

“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?” 

You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away. 

When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him. 

It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.

You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about. 

You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy. 

Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.

“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”

You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.

You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.

Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well. 

On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.

It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it. 

You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away. 

“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”

“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”

You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up. 

You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you. 

On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before. 

You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin. 

“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”

Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.

[streets-in-paradise]

Weaving Hope - Maximus Decimus Meridius x Wife!Reader

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Warnings: Talk of cheating ending with reassurance ( reader feels insecure and starts fearing he may cheat when he is away.)

Summary: Your husband's intelligence is not limited to military strategy. He knows emotions and he can tell when you are upset regardless if the cause remains out of his control. Even if the doubts come within yourself despite of his impeccable behavior, he needs to let you know you are his one and only.

Notes: Special gift for @wildsaltair hoping to cheer her up. ( This is how I constructively deal with my post Gladiator ll feelings regarding the Maximus mentions on the sequel.)

Glossary: Lucina - Roman goddess of childbirth, equivalent of the greek Ilithyia.

The sacred bliss of your domestic life was a shelter for your victorious and exahusted warrior. Maximus had returned home as happy and full of love as he always did, but his feelings didn't numb his perceptions. He found you checking the horizon warily, as if you were expecting some kind of unpleasant surprise and your heart was relieved not to find it when you got to be in his arms. Despite he didn't do any direct comments about it, that strange feeling didn't abandon him as he kept paying attention to your reactions.

When he began telling his stories about the latest conquest he adquired for the emperor, he could tell you weren't your usual self interrumpting him to ask questions or mock the senseless choices from some of his companions. Not only you were abnormally silent: that cheerfull sparkle in your eyes he adored to observe was replaced with the coldness of a circunstantial listener. Your mind was somewhere else, lost in something he couldn't easily decipher.

Bedtime of your toddler had him happy of finally being the one that could tuck the child and you observed in adoration for the beautifull scene. Its tender beauty contrasted with the bitter uglyness of the doubts haunting you. Tears of happiness and fear began to flow, spontaneous reaction you attempted to hide pretending you were going to clean the dinner table. The kid was excited, but very tired, so it didn't take long untill your husband returned to you and got struck by your first reproach.

" Excellent story! I only noticed you missed a detail ... The women of the North, Maximus, ... you said nothing about them."

Advancing cautiously, he began to understand what had been keeping you distant all along.

" I found nothing remarkable to say ... "

You chuckled with skepticism, trying hard not to sound angry without proper reasons.

" Really? Because I have heard some interesting things about them."

Harshly piling up the plates in an enumeration of descriptive phrases, you released your hidden jealousy pretending to be merely speculating.

" Pale skin, white as the snow in their cold lands. Tall, slim figures ... Eyes like the sea and blond hair so beautifull that it became an object of greed for roman ladies. When they get their hands in one, they chop it all off to make wigs for themselves ... Women so beautifull even the refined ladies from the capital find something to envy!! What is left for the wives of the province to think then? "

The pointless bitterness in your implications was amusing to him. Who told you all of that? He had no idea, ... most likely another woman who found in that real reasons to worry when her own husband left following him. One of his soldiers, or some officer under his command on a position comfortable enough to get a reward as such.

"Have you been fearing that this time you would see me arrive with a concubine? ... What have I ever done to awaken this doubt in your heart?"

It was unfair, and you knew it, but you couldn't help how you have been feeling.

" It's different now: you are their general. Men honor each other with the spoils of war: given how they love you, soldiers themselves could be picking one for you."

Maximus was not blind to the typical behavior of men arround him and what you said was true for many others on the higher ranks of the army.

" My men are always loyal to me and I serve the same emperor from the last war. This is not my first campaign as a general, ... there has to be something else troubling you and I must know what is it. "

He was right, but the underlying issue was not something easy to bring up. Would a man, even one as wondefull as your Maximus has always proved himself to be for you, capable of understanding such worries?

" I am not the same woman you married: childbirth has changed my body and my youthfull years will soon be gone. Any other man in your position would be considering to keep with him a younger woman whose hips weren't yet aided by Lucina, or enjoy of her away from his wife. Nobody would judge you for it, even less considering the long time you spend alone moving from one militar camp to another. "

For as sensical as your reasoning tried to make it sound, that idea would have never crossed his mind. Even if in extremely strange circunstancies, Marcus Aurelius himself would seek to prize him with a girl, or his hedonist younger son would suggest it, he would politely reject the gift and increase the rumours about his humble nature. All he always wanted from his superiors was getting granted a soon return to you, the only one he wanted. His beloved wife, mother of his child and woman of his dreams.

" Nobody would dare to suggest it, because they hear me count the days I spend away from you. "

Surprise made your hands tremble and an empty vase fell from your grip, but didn't reach the ground before he reached to pick it and you smiled for him.

" Can I be like Penelope, weaving hope because I remain the only wife of a commander in the army that can forever trust her husband? "

Securing the pottery in a different surface, his hands were then free to grab your waist from behind.

" The prized locks of those girls' hair are no match for a single hair of yours."

His touch travelled down, to your hips and lower abdomen. Firm grip of one, soft caressing from the other.

" ... And this body, that you so harshly claim to find decaying, feeds the burning flame of my desire like no other ever will. Alone in my tent, I can only dream to feel the body of my wife against mine in feverish delusion ... mad with want for you ... How could I ever feel otherwise? Despise your hips for no longer being those of a maiden, when I am the man that made you a mother? "

Finding ecstasy in his touch and the passionate comfort of his words hushed the wrong feelings keeping you distant.

Maximus began to kiss your neck and you couldn't keep punishing him in vain.

" Forgive me, my love … Long distances are hard for me as well, and last week my sister came visiting. I appreciate her company, but she isn't the wisest advisor. "

Guessing exactly what you meant with that, he chuckled against the skin of your left shoulder and pressed a few pecks there.

" Will you let me prove myself to you tonight?"

He didn't need to ask, but it was so sweet that he did. You were his, always were and forever would be.

[outofconcheol]

resonance (scb x f!reader)

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

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

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

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

word count: 12k

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

smut warnings under the cut!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But noona, you’re married now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should get you home–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he listens.

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

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

He feels so real. This felt so real. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Changbin–”

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

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

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

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

But you never expected this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to talk to Changbin. 

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Forgive me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Androids don’t get choices. 

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

“You’ve heard about the project.”

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

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

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

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

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

Another android.

“Hello, I’m Jisung.”

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

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

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

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

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

Chan nods his head in agreement. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard about the wedding. Congratulations.”

“Nothing to congratulate me for.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You care about him. The android.”

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

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

He wasn’t. 

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

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

. . . .

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

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

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

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

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

They’d found him. He had to run.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the servers. Starting data extraction now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a streetlight, like a streetlight

At the end of a lonely day, standing vacantly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tagging: @jellyleggz

[utkuerdemozerblog]

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Cartilage transplantation is a revolutionary solution for those suffering from chronic joint pain and limited mobility due to cartilage damage. This procedure involves replacing damaged cartilage with healthy cartilage, significantly improving the quality of life for patients. By restoring the joint’s natural function, cartilage transplantation can effectively combat conditions such as Knee patella dislocation.

One of the major benefits of cartilage transplantation is its ability to reduce pain and inflammation in the affected area, allowing patients to return to their daily activities with minimal discomfort. Patients often experience faster recovery times compared to traditional surgeries, enabling them to regain strength and stability more quickly.

Furthermore, the advancements in surgical techniques have made these procedures less invasive, leading to smaller scars and a quicker return to normal activity. Individuals suffering from conditions like Hallux deformity or Scapholunate ligament injury may also find relief through cartilage transplantation, as it promotes the regeneration of healthy tissue.

If you are struggling with joint issues or the repercussions of injuries like Knee patella dislocation, consider discussing cartilage transplantation with your healthcare provider. It could be the key to not only alleviating pain but also enhancing your overall joint function and mobility.

Hallux Deformity

Hallux deformity, commonly known as bunions, can significantly impact mobility and quality of life. This condition occurs when the big toe deviates towards the other toes, causing a painful bony protrusion at the base of the toe. The combination of discomfort and aesthetic concerns makes addressing hallux deformity essential.

Early intervention is crucial, as untreated hallux deformity may lead to increased pain and complications, including secondary toe deformities. Various treatment options are available, ranging from conservative methods like orthotics and activity modifications to more invasive procedures for advanced cases.

At Utku Erdemozer's clinic, we emphasize personalized care tailored to your unique needs. Our comprehensive assessment process ensures that we understand the severity of your condition and recommend the most effective treatment options, including potential surgical interventions if necessary.

If you or a loved one is suffering from hallux deformity, don’t let it hold you back. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and take the first step towards regaining your mobility and comfort.

Scapholunate Ligament Injury

Scapholunate ligament injury is a common wrist condition that can cause pain, instability, and decreased function. This crucial ligament connects the scaphoid and lunate bones in the wrist, playing a vital role in maintaining wrist stability and proper motion. When injured, it can lead to complications, including scapholunate advanced collapse (SLAC) wrist, which can severely impact daily activities and overall quality of life.

Early diagnosis and treatment are essential for optimal recovery. Symptoms often include:

Wrist pain, especially during movement

Swelling and tenderness

Reduced range of motion

A feeling of instability in the wrist

Various treatment options are available, depending on the severity of the injury. Non-surgical approaches may include:

Resting the wrist and avoiding aggravating activities

Wearing a splint or brace for stabilization

Physical therapy to improve strength and flexibility

In cases where conservative treatment is ineffective, surgical intervention might be necessary. Procedures could involve repairing the ligament or reconstructing the scapholunate joint, which can significantly restore function and alleviate pain.

If you suspect you have a scapholunate ligament injury or wish to learn more about effective treatment options, we invite you to visit Utkuer Demozer’s orthopedic clinic for expert advice and care. Don’t let wrist pain limit your active lifestyle; take the first step towards recovery today!

[clinicse]

DCİDENTALCLİNİC - DEVASA+ (4)

Welcome to our comprehensive guide on dental care in Antalya, Turkey—a region renowned for its stunning landscapes and top-notch healthcare services. If you're considering a dental journey, you've likely come across the phrases "Dental clinic Antalya," and "Dental clinic Turkey." This blog post aims to illuminate the incredible options available to you in this beautiful city, where cutting-edge technology meets exceptional expertise. We’ll delve into the specifics of dental implants in Antalya and Turkey, discussing the benefits and procedures that make this destination a popular choice for dental tourism. 

Dental clinic antalya

If you're considering a dental venture in Turkey, look no further than a dental clinic in Antalya. Known for its stunning scenery and vibrant culture, Antalya not only offers a great vacation spot but also exceptional dental care. Many clinics in this region are equipped with state-of-the-art technology and staffed by highly-trained professionals, making it an ideal choice for those seeking quality dental services.

The dental clinic Antalya offer a wide range of services, including routine check-ups, cosmetic dentistry, and more complex procedures. Patients often discover that the costs in Turkey, particularly in Antalya, are significantly lower than in many Western countries. This affordability does not compromise the quality of care; instead, it allows patients to receive top-notch services without the hefty price tag.

Dental clinic Turkey

When it comes to finding a reliable dental clinic Turkey has emerged as a popular destination for both locals and international patients alike. The country boasts state-of-the-art facilities and highly trained professionals, providing a wide array of dental services. Many clinics adhere to international standards and utilize the latest technology, ensuring that patients receive top-notch care.

One of the reasons why people choose a dental clinic in Turkey is the affordability of treatments. Compared to many Western countries, dental procedures in Turkey can be significantly less expensive without compromising on quality. This makes it an attractive option for those considering procedures such as routine check-ups, cosmetic dentistry, and more complex treatments like implants.

Another important aspect is the opportunity for a dental holiday. Many clinics offer packages that include not just dental treatments but also accommodations and local tourism options. This enhances the patient experience, allowing them to explore the beautiful cities and landscapes of Turkey while receiving essential dental care.

İmplant antalya

If you are considering a dental implant Antalya offers excellent options for patients seeking high-quality dental care. The region is known for its advanced facilities and skilled practitioners who specialize in restorative dental procedures. Dental implants have become a popular choice for replacing missing teeth, and Antalya's clinics are equipped with the latest technology to ensure successful outcomes.

In Antalya, several dental clinics focus on providing affordable and effective implant solutions. These clinics prioritize patient comfort and satisfaction, offering personalized treatment plans tailored to individual needs. Whether you require a single implant or a full mouth reconstruction, the expertise available in Antalya can help restore your smile and confidence.

The tourism aspect of Antalya also means that many clinics cater to international patients. This combination of excellent dental care and the chance to enjoy a beautiful vacation makes implant treatment in Turkey an appealing option for those looking to combine healthcare with travel. With its attractive landscape, Antalya provides a perfect backdrop for your dental journey.

İmplant turkey

When considering dental solutions, one of the most effective and long-lasting options is dental implants. In Turkey, particularly in regions like Antalya, state-of-the-art implant technology can transform your smile and enhance your quality of life. The advancements in materials and techniques make having an implant not just a possibility, but a convenient reality for many.

The appeal of getting an implant Turkey lies in the combination of high-quality dental care and affordability. Many dental clinics in Antalya offer comprehensive packages that include the implant procedure as well as the necessary follow-up care, ensuring patients receive seamless service throughout their experience. This makes Turkey a preferred destination for individuals seeking top-tier dental treatments.

In Antalya, the reputation of clinics specializing in implants is bolstered by the expertise of the dental professionals and modern facilities. With a focus on patient satisfaction and effective results, many find that the journey towards a perfect smile is not only achievable but also enjoyable. If you're considering a dental implant, exploring your options in Turkey could lead to beneficial outcomes for your dental health.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Inanemorphs thought:

Some decades after the war, there's a Stranger Things type show where instead of teens working at an ice cream shop like Stranger Things, they're at a knockoff Cinnabon or Dunkin Donuts and discover some kind of shapeshifter/changeling/replaced loved ones. It's very clearly nostalgia/tribute to an era but also occasionally dealing with the Horrors? How would the Animorphs react

The comparison to Stranger Things is key, because IMHO the most interesting thing about that show is its ambivalence toward the 1980s. Both in the way it's nostalgic and critical toward the '80s, but also in the way it struggles to balance recreating vs. critiquing the norms of the time.

Like, look at the treatment of Soviet characters. There's clearly an effort to acknowledge Not All Russians, with sympathetic characters in Dmitri and Oleg, and even likeable scoundrels in Yuri and Melnikov. BUT the show still has Evil Greedy Soviet Scientists as its main villains, and still portrays everything in Russia as rusty/dirty in contrast to the pristine advanced U.S. settings. It's no Atomic Blonde, but it's no Red Dawn either.

Same goes for the issue of race. The show at first replicates the "one token Black kid in a 99% white cast" dynamic of '80s fiction which fucking sucks. BUT it has its only Black boy date a white girl, which would be unlikely to happen in a real '80s show. BUT it confines its discussion of racism to 2 - 3 isolated moments perpetrated by Bad People. BUT it also tackles the reality of kids being confronted with teens' and adults' hate, again in a way a real 80s show might not.

Same goes for gender (every boy must have a crush on the One Girl in each generation, BUT the girls get fleshed out as much as the boys). Same goes for queerness (replicating the coy hints Eddie's queer with no confirmation, BUT having Robin be an out lesbian supported by her friends). So on.

I think Stranger Things does an excellent job of doing a simultaneous homage and deconstruction of fiction from that era — Stephen King, Ridley Scott, John Hughes, Stephen Spielberg — but fumbles when trying to find a middle ground on realities of that era.

Anyway, people who were American teens at the end of the Cold War probably have a different perspective on all this than I do, because I know those media but I have little/no nostalgia for them.

[thetxtdevil]

Witch's Brew

Taehyun x Reader

summary: a simple fairytale of a witch in the woods doing her duties of potion making with her raven familiar. however the familiar isn't just a bird to help with her responsibilities...

content: smut w/ plot, witch f.reader, familiar/demon taehyun/terry, dom taehyun, mentions of masturbation, begging, oral (fem receiving), slight spanking, bulge kink, let me know if i'm forgetting anything

word count: 3k

"a drop of vampires’ white blood, two tears of a siren, herbs from the troll's garden, water from the still stream"

your hands wave in circular motions over a big charcoal cauldron. your face glows the numerous hues from your potion. along side you a raven perched on a back of a wooden chair watching closely to the boiling concoction.

"here are the makings of the weeping soup!"

the potion's boiling bubbles get more abundant. the steam turns into weeping ghost like figures reflecting the name. a grin appears on you face and with wide eyes you look at the weeping soup with hunger. as it is your dinner for tonight.

"terry, darling, would you fetch me a ladle?"

the raven you spoke to croaks back to you and flies away. coming back as soon as you turn to the two bowls on the cauldron's side table. picking one up you raise your hand up the dark bird flies over and drops the spoon with its talons into your lifted hand. you scoop up the soup pouring it into the beautifully carved bowl and set it down. you then grab a smaller bowl and do the same but you place it down in-front of the raven.

the raven gurgles with contentment. you give him a big smile as you pick up your bowl and walk over to your sofa. extending your finger towards the tv, a flicker of electricity turns on the box and you watch with delight.

you were a witch raised by a coven of witches. you knew all things magic and the creatures who live amongst the magic. you excelled in potion making however, you fell behind the great skill of memorizing and brightness. you are smart, not a lot of witches could understand the art of potions but sometimes you could get a little... distracted.

your mother would find you in tears after you accidentally tipped over a bowl of bubbling liquid on the floor or the time a potion exploded in your face because you forgot to add a pinch of wolves fur.

this fact made your 16th birthday exciting as it is the age when a witch receives their familiar. familiars were demons that would obey you along with help you and they usually took the form of an animal. the day of your 16th birthday your coven dug up a black crystal that shimmered hues of blue and silver. you were beyond excited to see what your new friend would be.

you place it on your night stand next to your bed that night. you stared at it with big eyes until you fell asleep. drifting off you find yourself in a dream like state. everything was dark with white and grey smoke that formed shapes. you follow the patterns of the smoke and then you see the smoke stops you by forming a shape of a young man.

he was unreal. the figure had sculpted muscles, his teeth were bright and beautiful, encapsulated by sweet lips.

"who are you?"

"i am taehyun."

"kiss me" you blurted out

the man smiles at you but doesn't do anything. taehyun's body starts to fade away and you rush towards him but it was too late. you wake up with a loud sound of a bird's call. you wince at the sound along with the sun hitting your eyes. you look over to see that your black crystal has been replaced with a beautiful black raven.

you were a fully grown witch now. you had a few years with your familiar you named terry and graduated earning the title of potioneer. it was time to move on, your coven didn't want you to leave, but you knew you had to do it besides your house was only 10 minutes away if you take a broomstick.

your house was a classic witches' cottage. small, wooden, with vines overgrowing it. yet it had the necessary advancements of modern day living: a working toilet and shower, heater, ac, wifi. it was all you and terry needed.

one morning after it rained all night, the sun was rising making the grass and vines shine. terry flew over the fields of freshly watered grass scavenging items for your future potions as you were still asleep. as the raven was enjoying the smell of earth he notices a women running. terry isn't too worried about her until he sees the lady heading towards the cottages. terry soars to the window of your bedroom. he croaks loudly making sure you wake up.

"huh? what?"

you're a mess waking up by terry's noises. and that's when you hear a loud knock at the door. terry flys up on the cottage’s roof to over hear the two. you open the door to see a familiar face from your coven.

terry on the roof leans down. he's protective of you and doesn't want any intruders messing around.

"y/n! y/n! you have to help us our coven was cursed and a plague is spreading!"

"what? how did this happen?"

"one of the younglings was blamed for stealing a flower from another's coven's garden and they were not too fond of that"

you were stunned. witches are known to be cruel but to put a curse upon a whole coven because of a small thing was medieval.

"we have repelled the curse but people are still sick. i know you're good at making potions so i thought you could make a cure"

there was no way you could say no. this was your family it was your duty to use your abilities to help. so thats what you plan to do. you pack a basket of food and simple potions for the women to take back until you make a cure for the plague.

terry and you are off on your task. you take a trip to the mystical farmer's market trying to find ingredients: rosemary, pixie dust, lavendar, four leaf clovers, anything that would show signs of health. terry flies over a rock shop croaking at you.

"no terry i don't think stones would be useful"

he caws again, you ignore until terry lands on your shoulder and nips your ear.

"ow, ok, if you insist"

you walk over to the rock booth looking over the great selection. you pick up a amethyst and a rose quartz. you were about to settle on those two until you found a rock that resembled the crystal you received when getting your familiar. you smiled looking at terry, his raven head tilting so his eyes can look at you. you buy the rock and thought to yourself even though you're not going to use it, it was nice to have as decoration.

after a million of tries and fails you start to give up hope. ingredients were everywhere, some burnt and ripped. the raven watches cry out of frustration. you crash on your sofa to rest your head. terry flies over laying a blanket on top of your tired body.

"y/n... y/n!"

your eyes open to darkness. your look around to see smoke like shapes you've seen before. looking beside you, you see the man from you dream a long time ago.

"taehyun?"

"hi"

"hi... what are you doing in my dreams again"

"you're giving up hope which means you're giving up on your coven"

"i know but i'm having a hard time" you lean your head down

"you need to try again" the man rubs his pointed nose on your cheek lovingly

"but i've done everything"

"not the stone"

"the stone?" that damn stone terry wanted you to buy "will you finally kiss me if i use it"

just like before taehyun smiles at you and he wraps his body around you until his body turned into fog. a slight "i will." was the last thing you heard from him.

you wake up feeling a little more rested. turning your head to the work table your see your raven perched next to that black stone. you got up to take a good look at the stone, it even had the same shimmer of blue and silver the familiar crystal had. you look at your empty cauldron and then back at the stone. you lifted the stone and threw it at the bottom of the cauldron breaking it into smaller pieces.

the opened rock blasted bright light that filled the dim cottage. terry started to croak at the scene and fly up to grab more ingredients. both you and terry started throwing things in the cauldron like the broken rock's light opened your minds. after hours of spell casting and stirring, the potion was made. this was going to work you could feel it in your potion making bones.

even though it was nighttime you did not want to wait for the next day to deliver the cure. the coven has been waiting patiently and you didn't want to fail them. you wrap yourself in your purple cloak, putting a heavy bowl of potion in a basket, you straddle your broomstick and fly to your old home.

terry arrives before you croaking loudly to awaken the coven. the ones who were less sick came out to greet and praise you. they lead you to the child who was hit hard by the curse. you pour a cup of the white illuminated liquid and give it to the child. terry and you watch closely as the youngling blooms like a flower as soon as she gulps the potion. you turn to look at terry with the biggest smile and the whole coven gathers to get the trusted potion.

you arrive at the cottage after spending time at your first home. you were exhausted, you could feel the heaviness of the dark bags you had under your eyes. but you told yourself that you saved the day. you waddle to your bed and sink into it. the beautiful raven watched from the window as you close you eyes to rest.

as usual the sunrise awakens your tired eyes. you try to turn your body away from the sun's gaze but you then realize there's something in your way. this something was bigger than you, and had their arm around your waist. you freak out leaping out of bed.

"what the hell terry where are you when i need you?" you thought to yourself. looking at the sleeping intruder you found yourself dizzy from the fact that it wasn't a stranger, it was taehyun, a very naked taehyun at that. you climb back on your bed to get a closer look at the beautiful man.

in your dreams taehyun was only shades of white and blurry but now he was very real and detailed. tan skin that glowed in the sun, his muscles seemed more defined in real life, his face was soft yet structural. your hand instinctively strokes his hair, admiring it you realize he had black hair with strands of dark blue and silver.

taehyun slowly opens his eyes, blinking a few times to grasp his environment. he looks at you and smiles.

"hi y/n"

"h-hi"

his voice was sweet yet raspy. you lay your head down so you were looking at him at the same level. he smiles just like he has in your dreams.

"so you're real" you poke his bare shoulder

he huffs a laugh "you mean you haven't figured out?"

you look at him confused

"i'm the demon who helps you"

your eye bulge out of your eyes "terry?!"

he laughs at you while pushing you disheveled hair out of your face.

"you're supposed to obey me so everytime time i've asked you to kiss me you were supposed to"

"you're very persistent on that, but that was only a dream"

you frown. you've been so obsessed with the appearance of this man, now that he his real and right in front of you the more you actually want to touch him.

"i did promise that i would kiss you if you used that stone"

"you sure did" you smile

taehyun lifts his head and leans in to kiss you slowly. your mind was exploding the handsome man from your dreams was finally kissing you. the kiss lasted for a while until you finally understood that this was terry your raven. the raven that has seen you naked when you get dressed, the raven whose seen you do some questionable things because you live alone. you lean away from taehyun's kiss and rub your forehead.

"hey what's wrong?"

tae turns your head towards him so he can read you. your blush gave away your embarrassed thoughts to tae.

"yes I've been with you all this time, but i pledged to be with you forever"

the statement felt caring and comforting. you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pushed into another deep kiss with the man. this time it felt heated. tae shifts from his spot to hover you. his hands roamed your body softly as if he thought you'd break if he pushed too hard. he kisses your face, jaw, and nips at your ear

"do you just want me to kiss you or do you want more?"

"more" you whine

"more what?"

"more of you, i want you and anything... please"

he smirks at you politeness and does what he is told. kissing you he reaches to the little tied bow holding the collar of your dress and loosens it. he leaves your lips to leave a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck and chest. tae finds himself a little impatient with you dress since there was no easy way to take it off other than tearing it apart. the sound of torn fabric fills your ears.

"terry!" you gasp

taehyun doesn't say anything as he goes back to kissing your body. he had a destination in mind something he's thought of everytime you touched yourself thinking you were alone. stopping himself right above your clothed pussy he looks up at you. your eyes are on him without saying anything he can tell that you were begging him to do something.

just like your poor dress he grabs the thin cloth covering your sweet parts and rips it off. before you could scold the man tae dives his face into your pussy. lapping all the juicy you made just from him kissing you. you grab and pull his raven black hair as you moan loudly. tae pushes a finger in your cunt thrusting it along his tongue. he enjoyed this, eating you out like you never fed the raven. he purposely moans to send vibrations to your core. he replaces his tongue with another finger and starts to suck on your clit. he glaces at his witch whose back was arched with eyes squeezed shut. he reaches his other hand from you thighs to your breast. groping and pinching he was determined for you to cum the hardest you've ever had.

"i- i'm... ugh..."

your body was shaking you couldn't get the words out hot from taehyun's touches. tae didn't want to stop his tongue on your cunt so he hummed. this put you to your last breaking point cumming onto tae as he laps the cum all up.

taehyun lifts his torso up, now on his knees between your legs. he takes the time to look at the sinful sight. your clothes were ripped and the holes were only showing off the part that are usually covered. plush legs spread just for him, breasts moving up and down breathing hard from the orgasm, you had dried up tears on you blushed face. it was beautiful to the demon.

he watched your eyes drift down to his exposed member. the size and bulkiness was enough to make you wet again. tae smirks and hovers over you again to peck your lips.

"say it."

"use that pretty cock and fuck me already"

taehyun shivers at your dirty command. he kisses you one more time before straighting up again.

"flip over and ass up"

with no questions asked you turn your body and lifted your ass straight to tae's face wiggling it a bit. he lifts his hand up to smack down the plush flesh. you squeak at the action which again excites taehyun. he bends over your body giving you a kiss on the shell of your ear whispering

"i like the sounds you make for me will you make more with my dick ruining your cunt?"

you moan a yes dropping you head down as you feel his big erection against your soaking heat. his hands grip your hips as he pushes into your tight walls. tae throws his head back gasping at the feeling. he waits there letting you adjust only for you to start rocking your hips back and forth. tae then takes the lead thrusting into your core faster and faster listening to every noise you make.

you felt beyond good, way better than anything else. you then felt his hand on your belly pushing down. you gasp at what his intention were to feel his bulge that he was creating.

"can- you fill me up?"

tae smirks "as you wish"

tae's thrust became quicker and you joined by moving your hips. his hand still on your belly then drifts towards your clit. the heated feeling came back to you making your tight wall clench around tae. both of you lose your rhythm tae's motions on your clit becomes rushed which help you to your second climax which in turn helps tae to his. your cum now everywhere you whimper at the overstimulation of the man still going. tae keeps his word by blasting inside you covering every bit of your walls white.

he slumps over your torso sweaty flesh clinging to one another. tae snuggles you, head in the crease of your neck giving a few kisses here and there while lightly rubbing shapes onto you're skin.

"if you were terry this whole time why couldn't you have helped me out?"

"helped you with your potions or with your poor fingering skills?" he nips your ear again.

you both smile to yourselves and eventually fall asleep again.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

[dinas-a-bird]

For the Love of the Game

Pairing: soccer!Ellie Williams x soccer!fem!reader

Warnings: SFW, angst with a happy/hopeful ending, mean ellie and reader, Arsenal woso au, rivalry, hostility, first kiss, cursing, use of y/n

Summary: As a new sign on the Arsenal squad you seem to click with everyone, except the defender Ellie Williams. or i couldnt find what I wanted to read so I wrote it instead

Word Count: 4,005

A/N: this is my longest piece of writing yet and also probably my favorite. I kept the soccer terms to a minimum because I know they are difficult to understand if you've never played the sport. I've been meaning to write a woso au fic for quite some time mainly because i'm a huge fan of soccer and have played it my entire life, so i'm supper happy I finally got around to this. Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

quick sidebar: I am so upset about Australia not making it to the WWC finals.

Pt 2: here

You sat in the locker room, lacing up your cleats, your mind racing with anticipation for the upcoming training session. Soccer was your passion, your lifeblood, and being a new sign on the Arsenal team was both a dream come true and a challenge you welcomed with open arms. The energy in the room was a mix of excitement and seriousness, as your new teammates chatted and laughed, sharing stories and trading banter.

Katie, a fellow teammate, leaned over with a playful grin. "You ready to kick some ass on the field today, y/n?"

You grinned back, your eyes shining with determination. "You know it, McCabe. Ready to show 'em what I'm made of."

As the training session began, you threw yourself into the drills, your love for the game evident in every sprint, every pass, every shot on goal. It was a fierce battle, each player giving her all, striving for excellence. Amid the sweat and shouts, there was a particular presence that caught your attention—Ellie Williams. The enigmatic American player was a force to be reckoned with, known for her skill and her no-nonsense attitude. Your interactions had always been colored with a hint of hostility and rivalry, Williams sharp wit and biting remarks keeping you on your toes.

"Nice touch, y/n!" Leah Williamson’s encouragement broke through your concentration, and she sent a quick nod and smile in your direction.

After the grueling training session, you followed the team into the locker room. The energy had shifted, the air filled with exhaustion and accomplishment. You were quick to shed your gear, peeling off your sweaty kit, replacing it with a band tee and ripped jeans. As you looked around, you caught Williams' gaze—surprisingly not one of antagonism, but something different, harder to define.

"Like what you see, Williams?" Your playful remark caught Ellie off guard, and a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you moved toward your locker. You could practically feel Ellie's eyes on you as you changed, a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite place apparent on her face.

The banter continued as you and your teammates made plans for drinks later that evening. The idea of spending time together outside of the pitch was new, a tentative step toward forming friendships beyond the pitch. The mention of Williams' not wanting to go to yet another team bonding session didn't escape your notice, a reminder of your ongoing rivalry and tension.

As the evening approached, you found yourself in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The exchange with Ellie in the locker room had been different, a crack in the armor she had always presented. But you were cautious, unsure of what it all meant. Your heart raced as you stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for the night ahead. You chose an outfit that felt comfortable yet confident—black trousers and a light pink button-up, French-tucked for a touch of casual elegance.

Your phone chimed, and you picked it up to see a text from Leah. "I'm outside ready to bring you to team drinks dummy." You chuckled, sending a quick response that you were on your way. Soon enough, you found yourself in Leah's car, driving towards the nearby pub where the team was gathering for drinks and bonding.

The pub was alive with the chatter and laughter of your teammates as you entered. You greeted the girls and grabbed a drink before sitting down next to Leah, who gave you a knowing look. "You think Ellie’s actually going to come?" Leah whispered, her eyes glancing over to the entrance.

"Dunno, don't really care to be honest," You replied with a shrug. "She's been a right twat for as long as she's known me."

Leah hummed in acknowledgment, and the two of you settled into the lively atmosphere. Your eyes wandered over the group, spotting Ellie’s absence. You couldn't help but wonder if the tension between you had kept her away.

After a while, your impatience grew, and you checked your watch. "Damn, she really didn't want to come," you muttered under your breath, feeling a mix of annoyance and disappointment. You leaned back in your seat, your mind lost in your thoughts.

Leah noticed your mood shift and rubbed your shoulder gently. "What's wrong, y/n/n?"

You sighed, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Nothing, just thought maybe she'd actually show up for once."

As the minutes ticked by, your frustration turned into resignation. You finished your drink and decided to get another one. "I'm going to get another drink," you announced to the group, receiving nods of acknowledgment before making your way to the bar.

"One whiskey, on the rocks, please," you ordered, your tone weary. You leaned against the bar, waiting for your drink and watching the team engage in playful conversations. Your mind drifted, thinking about the complicated relationship you had with Ellie Williamson.

The bartender quickly served your drink, and you took a slow sip, the cool liquid offering a momentary distraction from your thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder why Ellie’s presence or in this case lack thereof, affected you so much.

As you continued to observe the team, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a text from Leah, asking if you were okay. You smiled faintly and texted back, "Yeah, just needed a breather. Don't worry, I'm good."

With your drink in hand, you found an empty stool at the bar and settled in. You watched as the team's laughter filled the pub. You took another sip of your drink, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling within you.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when someone sat down next to you until you heard a familiar voice. "Whatcha doing over here, mate?" Caitlin Foord's voice broke through your reverie.

You looked up, a surprised smile forming on your lips. "Hey, just needed another drink, that's all."

Caitlin chuckled, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Well, the teams missing you, might wanna head back over soon."

You couldn't help but appreciate Caitlin's attempt at lightening the mood. You finished your drink and thanked the bartender, making your way back to the group. As you approached, Katie McCabe greeted you with a big smile. "Look who finally decided to rejoin us!"

Your lips twitched into a smile as you took a seat among your teammates. The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed, and you found yourself easing into the conversation. You exchanged playful banter with the girls, your guard slowly lowering as the evening progressed.

Ellie’s absence was no longer a looming presence in your mind. Instead, you found yourself immersed in laughter and conversation with the team. It was as if, for a brief moment, the rivalry and tension between you and Williams never existed.

As the night wore on, you glanced at your watch, realizing it was getting late. You excused yourself from the group, giving everyone hugs and promising to see them soon. 

Outside the pub, you hailed a taxi with more success than the previous nights. You settled into the back seat, feeling contentment wash over you. The evening had been unexpectedly enjoyable, a welcome break from the usual tension.

When you arrived home, you thanked the driver and made your way to your apartment. You kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the couch, a small smile playing on your lips.

The events of the evening continued to replay in your mind as you lay on the couch. The unexpected sense of belonging with your teammates had provided a refreshing change from the usual tension with Ellie Williams. 

As the days passed, your thoughts kept drifting back to that night at the pub. You found yourself analyzing every interaction, every word spoken between you and your teammates, including the moments when Ellie’s absence was conspicuous.

Training sessions were business as usual, the banter and drills had become familiar over time. You couldn't deny that a part of you was secretly hoping for another chance to interact one-on-one with Ellie, even if it meant more of your usual back-and-forth.

One evening, after a rigorous training session, you were walking to your car when you noticed Ellie leaning against it. You tensed involuntarily, your heart rate increasing as your palms grew slightly clammy. "What do you want, Williams?" You asked, your voice laced with a mixture of defiance and caution.

Ellie straightened up and crossed her arms, her expression guarded. "Just making sure you're not slacking off on your game, y/l/n," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You raised an eyebrow, annoyance and amusement flickering in your eyes. "Trust me, you're not the one I need to prove anything to."

Ellie’s gaze held yours for a moment before she seemed to relent, her posture relaxing slightly. "Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable. I'm not here to make friends."

You let out a rueful chuckle. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

As the weeks went by, you and Ellie continued your dance of hostility, your interactions marked by barbed remarks and wary glances.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, You found yourself sitting alone in the locker room, lost in thought. You were startled when the door opened, and Ellie walked in, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

"What do you want, Williams?" You said, your tone a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

Ellie hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice lacking its usual bite. "Look, I may not like you, but I respect your dedication to the game. You're a damn good player, and you've earned your place on this team."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. It wasn't the response you had expected. "Thanks, I guess."

Ellie’s gaze held yours, her usually confident demeanor replaced by a vulnerability that caught you off guard. "I've had to fight tooth and nail to get where I am, and I won't let anyone make me doubt myself. Not even you."

You nod your head slowly. "I get it. We all have our battles."

There was a pause before Ellie spoke again, her voice softer this time. "Look, y/l/n, I'm not saying we're suddenly going to be best buddies or anything. But maybe... maybe we can find a way to coexist without tearing each other apart. For the team sakes if anything."

You studied Ellie’s face, seeing a sincerity that was unexpected. For the first time, you allowed yourself to truly consider the possibility of a truce between the two of you. "Yeah, maybe we can." The tension in the room seemed to ease slightly, replaced by a tentative understanding. 

However, the fragile truce you had established was put to the test during an Arsenal v Arsenal scrimmage. The game was intense, with both sides fighting tooth and nail for victory. As the clock ticked down and the score remained tied, the pressure mounted.

You found yourself being subbed onto the pitch after halftime, your heart pounding as you chased after the ball. You maneuvered past defenders with finesse, your focus on the goal. Just as you were about to take the shot, Ellie’s foot came out of nowhere, intercepting the ball and sending it in a different direction.

"Fancy move, y/l/n, but you'll have to do better than that," Ellie’s voice taunted from behind you.

Your frustration flared, and you couldn't hold back your retort. "Maybe I would if someone didn't think they were the queen of the fucking pitch."

The game continued with both sides giving it their all. The tension on the pitch was thick, mirroring the tension that still lingered between you and Ellie. As the match entered the final minutes, you found yourself facing off against Ellie near the goal. The ball was within reach, victory hanging in the balance.

You dribbled past Ellie, your determination fueling your every move. You took the shot, the ball sailing towards the goal. But Ellie was there, deflecting the shot with a well-timed block. The whistle blew, signaling the end of the scrimmage with a draw.

As the team regrouped in the locker room, your frustration lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling that the rivalry with Ellie had affected your performance. You sat alone in front of your cubby, your thoughts a jumble of emotions.

Ellie approached, her expression unreadable. "You played well out there. But you've got to learn not to let your emotions get the best of you."

Your temper flared, the familiar resentment bubbling up. "Oh, I'm sorry if I don't have years of experience in keeping my cool like you."

Ellie’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed as though you were on the brink of another confrontation. But then, unexpectedly, Ellie sighed. "Look, I'm not saying this to be nice, but I know you're a damn good player, anybody with a decent set of eyes can see it. You just need to channel that fire in the right direction."

You looked at Ellie, surprised by the genuine advice. It was a side of her that you rarely saw—the vulnerability beneath the layers of hostility. "Thanks," you muttered, your pride making it difficult to fully acknowledge the concession.

Ellie nodded, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she turned and walked away. The encounter left you with a mix of conflicting emotions. Maybe, there was more to your rivalry than you had initially thought.

Weeks turned into months, and you and Ellie continued to navigate the delicate balance between rivalry and mutual respect. Your interactions became less charged, your exchanges more civil. Training sessions saw fewer verbal jabs and more focused drills.

And then, one day, it happened. It was a routine practice, but something was different. You found yourself looking at Ellie in a new light, noticing the subtle nuances in her expressions and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, even if it was rare.

During a break, as you were catching your breath, Ellie approached you. "Not bad out there today."

Your heart raced, your nerves betraying you. "Thanks, Williams."

Ellie hesitated for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer than usual. "You know, sometimes it's okay to acknowledge your strengths. It doesn't make you any less of a competitor."

You met Ellie’s gaze, seeing a glimmer of something more in her eyes. You felt a connection, a shared understanding that ran deeper than your rivalry. In that moment, you realized that you were more alike than you had ever wanted to admit.

As you both stood there, the tension between you had shifted. It was as if a new chapter had begun, one that held the promise of something beyond the animosity you had known. And in that small shift, you saw a glimpse of the possibility for a different kind of connection—one that went beyond the field, beyond the rivalry, and into uncharted territory.

The weeks that followed saw a gradual evolution in you and Ellie’s relationship. You both continued to challenge each other on the pitch, but there were moments of unexpected friendliness that seemed to catch you both off guard.

During a particularly intense training session, you found yourself locked in a one-on-one with Ellie. Her movements were precise and calculated. As you managed to get past Ellie and score a goal, you couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph.

Ellie’s expression was a mix of frustration and begrudging admiration. "Not bad. Looks like you've been working on your footwork."

You caught your breath, your heart racing from the exertion. "Well, someone has to score goals for the team."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but there was a trace of a smile tugging at her lips. "Don't get too cocky. This was just practice."

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Ellies presence. You couldn't ignore the way your heart raced whenever Ellie was near or the moments when your gazes lingered just a fraction longer than necessary.

One evening, after another successful game, the team decided to go out for a celebratory dinner. You found yourself sitting across from Ellie at the restaurant, your interactions surprisingly easy. You traded stories and laughs, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way Ellie’s sharp wit and dry humor had you smiling genuinely.

As the night wore on, the group began to disperse, leaving you and Ellie alone at the table. The atmosphere had shifted from hostility to something more complex, and you found yourself wanting to explore it further.

"You know, we've come a long way from where we started," You said, your voice tinged with both curiosity and vulnerability.

Ellie nodded, her expression more thoughtful than usual. "Yeah, I guess we have."

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if we weren't rivals. If we could actually get along."

Ellie’s gaze held yours, her eyes searching for something. "It's not that simple, y/n. We've got history."

You nodded, understanding the truth in Ellie’s words. "I know. But maybe we could start over. Put the rivalry behind us."

Ellie’s guard seemed to momentarily waver, revealing a glimpse of uncertainty. "And why would we do that?"

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you voiced what had been lingering in your mind. "Because I think there's more to you than the tough exterior you show the world, Ellie. And I think we could actually be friends."

Ellie’s expression was that of surprise. For a moment, you held your breath, unsure of how Ellie would respond.

"You've got a lot of nerve, y/l/n," Ellie finally said, her tone defensive.

You met Ellie’s gaze. "Yeah, well, maybe that's what it takes to break down walls."

Ellie seemed to study you for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. "You're relentless, you know that?"

You grinned. "It's one of my best qualities."

The evening ended on a surprisingly positive note, with you and Ellie parting ways with a newfound understanding.

In the days that followed, you and Ellie’s interactions continued to evolve. You found yourselves sharing occasional moments of friendship, whether it was a congratulatory pat on the back after a tough training session or a shared joke that left you both laughing. However, the underlying tension remained, occasionally resurfacing in a sharp remark or a competitive challenge on the field.

One sunny afternoon, the team gathered for another friendly scrimmage. You and Ellie were on opposing sides, your rivalry intensifying as you fought for control of the ball. 

During a break, you approached the sidelines to catch your breath. You glanced over to where Ellie was standing, her chest heaving from the exertion. Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but offer a nod of acknowledgment. Ellie responded with a curt nod of her own, a silent acknowledgment of the mutual respect that had slowly begun to form between you.

As the scrimmage continued, your mind drifted back to your conversation at the restaurant. You wondered if Ellie had taken your words to heart, if there was a chance for you to truly move beyond the rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long.

The opportunity to explore this newfound connection presented itself one evening after practice. You found yourself alone, yet again, in the locker room, lost in thought. You were startled when the door opened, and Ellie walked in, her expression that of annoyance.

"Can't believe you managed to score that goal," Ellie muttered, her arms crossed.

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Jealous, Williams?"

Ellie rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in her gaze. "As if."

Your lips twitched into a smile. "You know, we could make a pretty good team if we put our differences aside."

Ellie’s response was a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "You're actually suggesting we team up?"

You shrugged. "Why not? We both know how to play to our strengths. And imagine the look on everyone's faces if we actually worked together."

Ellie seemed to consider the proposition for a moment before relenting. "Fine. But this doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends or anything."

You grinned. "Of course not. Just allies on the field."

Over the following weeks, you and Ellie’s partnership began to take shape. You pushed each other to excel, your competitive spirit driving you both to new heights. The tension between you had transformed into a unique synergy, a blend of rivalry and friendship that was as unexpected as it was effective.

Off the field, your interactions continued to be marked by moments of both warmth and hostility. You found yourself enjoying Ellie’s company more than you would have thought possible, relishing the glimpses of vulnerability that occasionally surfaced beneath her tough exterior.

One evening, as the sun set over the horizon, you found yourself sitting on the bleachers of the empty stadium. You gazed out at the field, lost in thought. You were startled when Ellie appeared beside you, her gaze fixed on the same view.

"Enjoying the peace and quiet?" Ellie’s voice was unusually soft.

You smiled, a hint of nostalgia in your eyes. "Yeah, it's a nice change from the chaos of the game."

Ellie nodded in agreement. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but... you've made training a little less unbearable."

You chuckled. "High praise coming from you, Williams."

The stadium was bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, casting a warm and golden glow over the field. The atmosphere was tranquil, a stark contrast to the intensity of your usual rivalry. You turned your attention to Ellie, your gaze lingering on her profile. There was a vulnerability in Ellie’s expression, a crack in the armor that had always shielded her from the world.

"Who would've thought that we'd end up here?" You mused, your voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

Ellie let out a wry chuckle, her eyes never leaving the horizon. "Yeah, it's a strange twist of fate."

The air was thick with unspoken emotions, a charged silence that seemed to envelop you both. Your heart raced as you found yourself inching closer to Ellie, your body moving almost of its own accord. Your shoulders brushed against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins.

"You know, I never really knew you before all of this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie turned to face you, her gaze intense and searching. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of suspended time. The months of rivalry, the animosity, it all seemed to melt away, leaving behind an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

Without another word, you closed the distance between the both of you, your heart pounding in your chest. You pressed your lips to Ellie’s in a hesitant, gentle kiss.

As you pulled away, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty played across Ellie’s features. Your heart raced as you searched Ellie’s eyes for any sign of regret, but what you found was a flicker of something else—something that mirrored your own feelings.

"I... I don't know what this means," You admitted, your voice tinged with a touch of insecurity.

Ellie’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "I don't either. But I guess we'll figure it out together."

Your lips twitched into a smile of their own, a sense of hope blossoming within you. "Yeah, I guess we will."

You sat there in the fading light, side by side on the bleachers, the weight of your shared history and newfound connection hanging in the air. The stadium that had witnessed countless fierce battles between you both now bore witness to a different kind of victory—one that transcended rivalry and embraced the possibility of something more.

[quasi-normalcy]

"A Theory of Magic", chapter four

“Nothing is ever just a name, Mr. Oakes,” she says. “Now tell me, and speak truly…what do you think of your acting Prime Minister?” I look back at Cloutier, who seems frozen in a state of panic. The other parliamentarians look on nervously, seemingly trying to hide behind one another. I swallow. “Oscar Cloutier is a vain, arrogant, self-serving technocrat who’s more interested in advancing his own career than in serving his constituency. But I back his demands 100%.” Elestrine seems to find this satisfactory. “And you don’t want him to be murdered.” “No, Excellency, I don’t want him, or anyone else, to be murdered.” Elestrine assumes a puzzled expression. “I confess, Mr. Oakes, to being unfamiliar with the particulars of your laws. Am I correct in assuming that any act of deliberately and premeditatively killing a human being—outside of war, of course—constitutes murder?” “…Essentially yes,” I say, sensing this to be a poor time to quibble over legal details. “And do laws against murder pertain to other animals?” I feel a vague sense of unease. “No, Excellency.” “Ah.” I hear a yelp of surprise from Heidi Hiscox and snap my head around to face my fellow parliamentarians. Cloutier is gone, replaced by a very alarmed-looking stag, incongruously wearing an Armani suit and Gucci loafers. “Fetch my bow,” Elestrine orders, smiling beatifically.

That's The Unreserved Powers of the Governor General, this week in my serialized novel!

(read from the beginning)

@honeysuckletook

[bluejayblueskies]

the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world | phynoma

[ID: Two pictures of two hand-bound books, the first of which shows their front covers and the second of which shows their spines and part of their front covers at an angle. The leftmost book is bound in yellow bookcloth and has a hand-embroidered smiling mouth with bloody teeth on the bottom portion of the front and back cover. The title, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world" is in the top right corner in black as well as the words "volume one" in maroon. The rightmost book is bound in red bookcloth and has a hand-embroidered ribcage on the lefthand side of the front cover and the righthand side of the back cover. The title, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world" is in the top right corner in black as well as the words "volume two" in white. Both volumes have stitching across the spine that joins the embroidery on the front and back covers so that the design stretches across the spine. /End ID]

It's finally time to share the books I made for the 2023 Rusty Quill Big Bang, hosted by @pilesofnonsense! This year, I was paired with the wonderful @phynoma, who wrote a post-circus AU entitled the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world where Jon is marked by an entity known as the Consuming that feeds off hunger and desire and focuses, in Jon's case, around sexual hunger and desire. It's a truly spectacular fic with excellent worldbuilding, spot-on characterization, and a wide variety of sexual encounters of all flavors, and I highly recommend it!

As this fic is written in transcript format, I wanted to go with an open-spine binding style that would have the advantage of both lying extremely flat when opened and giving the fic a more screenplay-like appearance. Also as a consequence of the transcript format, the final page count ended up being large enough that I split the fic into two volumes, the first of which covers season three and the second of which covers seasons four and five.

[ID: Two pictures of the same hand-bound books, the first of which shows volume one and the second of which shows volume two. Both books are fully open to display their front and back covers touching. We can see that the embroidered design, half of which is on the front cover and half of which is on the back, forms a complete picture when the book is fully open. /End ID]

Each volume has hand-embroidered front and back covers, with titles done in black, white, and maroon gel pen. The covers were designed so that when the book is fully open, the front and back cover designs come together to form one single cohesive image. Additionally, when the book is closed, the spine stitching was done so that the design stretches across the spine, thus making the full design complete whether the book is fully open or fully closed. I'm really proud of how these covers turned out, and even though the embroidery took much longer than I anticipated it taking, it's definitely something I would do again!

More description and pictures of the interior of the books are below the cut:

I went with a visually simple yet technically complex design for the typeset of this fic. Microsoft Word's styles were very much my friend, as well as its advanced find-and-replace feature, to automate a lot of the formatting for this fic. The most complex bits were the group chat excerpts and making sure all the profile pictures were positioned correctly, as well as the email chain excerpts in volume one. The text messages were done separately in an HTML workspace and then included via screenshots, and because I had an HTML/CSS text message code already sitting around from a previous project, those were relatively simple to format!

[ID: Eight pictures of the interior of the hand-bound books from previous photos. The first picture shows the title page of volume one, which has the title and author name in black and "volume one" in red, as well as a picture of a ginko tree. The second picture shows the title page of volume two, which has the title and author name in black and "volume two" in red, as well as a picture of a cherry blossom tree. The third picture shows the colophon and table of contents for volume two, highlighting the binder logos--a bluejay and a bookpress--and the faux-label table of contents title. The fourth picture shows the chapter header page for the chapter "voyeurism" in volume one, featuring brackets around the notes, content warnings, and pairings for the chapter as well as a quote from the confessions of augustine, which is separated from the warnings with an open eye graphic. The fifth picture shows the beginning of the chapter "hunger in the garden" in volume two, displaying the transcript formatting of the text as well as the faux-label chapter name on the top left. The sixth picture shows text messages in volume two, which are formatted the same as text messages on an iOS system with blue and gray bubbles and a name header that says "Jonathan Sims." The seventh picture shows some chapter text as well as a faux-office memo, done in a sans serif font, written from Elias Bouchard to the Archives team. The eighth picture shows on the left page faux emails, done in an iOS style with profile pictures for each email, and on the right page a faux-group message with profile pictures for each member and a header that labels the groupchat as the Snarkivists. /End ID]

The fonts used for this typeset were chosen based on those used for the unofficial Magnus Archives transcripts--DejaVu Sans Mono for the chapter intro pages and Libre Baskerville for the body text. I'm not 100% sure that those are the actual fonts used for the unofficial transcripts, but based on the reverse font search I did, those seem to be a close match for it.

This was a big project for me, and I'm so happy to finally see it to completion! Once again, a big thanks to Phynoma for being such a wonderful partner to work with--I'm excited to send you these books so you can see them in person 💜

[camcat1320]

Ursa, Ozai, and Ikem Backstory Development (cont.)

Book 4: Air, the Missing Element (a fanfic)

I have been exploring scenarios in which I could expand and add complexity to this set of characters. In previous posts, I have followed this plot bunny down many possible paths. Now here I am again, looking to expand even further on these characters.

It's been a long-standing idea of mine to draw parallels between Gaston and Belle with Ozai and Ursa. Ozai is a narcissist that wants to marry the most beautiful girl, that being Ursa, because he thinks he deserves the best. Ikem would be his lifelong friend that becomes his wingman to try and woo Ursa.

Ursa first rejects Ozai's advances but he sees it as a challenge and doesn't quit his courtship. When Ozai is down in the dumps, Ikem and many others join in to cheer him up. This is exactly what a narcissist desires, to have the admiration and attention from many people.

Ursa on the other hand would be an intelligent, learned woman. She loves to read books, fictional romances and tales of spirits to be specific. Ikem also is an avid reader. He would know of the tale of The Mother of Faces due to his mother telling him the story. This is something the two would relate with each other, being able to talk about literature at length together.

Recently, I have given the show The Crown on Netflix a watch and I got a whole new slew of ideas to add even more drama and tension. In particular, the story of Princess Diana holds plenty of inspiration for my characterization of Princess Ursa.

For Ursa, however, it wouldn't be an entirely good start to the fairy tale turned nightmare marriage. Ursa would first find Ozai odd and off-putting, turning down his affections. But with a little coercing from her family and the royal family about the potentially auspicious pairing, she gives Ozai a fighting chance.

Ozai would be in both sports and theatre in university and excel in both. Ozai and Ursa would bond over their mutual interest in theatre.

Ozai, with the help of his wingman Ikem, successfully woos Ursa. Ikem knows of how to woo a woman based on the books he has read. He had dated before but they were all after his wealth and proximity to the Royal Family, leaving him feeling unfulfilled and desiring true love.

Ikem's feelings for Ursa grows but he remains silent because his best friend and prince essentially called dibs on Ursa. Ikem is the best man at Ursa's and Ozai's wedding, wishing them luck and prosperity while dying on the inside as he bids farewell to the love of his life.

Ikem remains present in Ursa's and Ozai's lives and is treated like family. Ikem tries to date other women but no one can replace Ursa in his heart.

The marriage between Ozai and Ursa begins to deteriorate rather quickly. Ozai becomes jealous of Ursa as she gets more attention from the general public moreso than he does. When Ozai is in public, the crowds would ask questions about Ursa rather than him.

After completing university, Azulon tells Ozai that he must put his sports and theatre days behind him as it no longer reflects favorably to the crown. Ozai begrudgingly accepts this.

Later, Ursa surprises Ozai and the audience with a ballad on stage at the Fireside Opera House to honor Ozai's birthday. However, Ozai does not take kindly to this surprise. He is envious that she was allowed on stage while he had to give up the stage. On top of it, he doesn't appreciate Ursa stealing the show, taking the spotlight off of him.

He reacts negatively and projects onto Ursa, saying that she is selfish and wants all the attention on her at all times. Ursa would feel hurt by this, saying that she expresses her love ardently through song. Ozai would snap back, "If you could call that wretched screeching singing."

*The topic of eating disorders will follow. Reader discretion is advised.*

Now as someone who suffers from disordered eating, I found it compelling to also include this in Ursa's story to draw more parallels to Princess Diana. But since this fanfiction is rated TV-Y7-FV, I need to write it in a subtle way where it can be picked up by the older audiences while going over the heads of children.

I was thinking in The Search (Ch 2), I'd have Zuko and Azula ask Elua, Ursa's retired handmaid, if she would know of her whereabouts. Elua would say she has no clue where Ursa is or whether or not she is still alive. Elua would say, "Your mother was a sick woman. The poor thing had trouble keeping her food down. I worry for her and I only hope the terrible illness hasn't taken her."

Then in parting, Elua would share that all of Ursa's belongings were packed up and put in storage in the archives of the National Museum. At the museum, hosts an array of artifacts from past conquests, including Air Nomad artifacts. The museum is filled with propaganda and inaccurate depictions of Fire Nation history, framing the nation in a pleasing light.

In the archives, they find chests with Ursa's belongings, including clothing, written letters, diaries, and her old prescription medication tea still in their paper sachets with instructions and ailment stamped on them.

Zuko would find this as a shock, thinking that his mother was always kind and happy around him. Azula would respond with, "That entirely depends on the perspective." Azula would then cover up her moment of vulnerability and claim that Ursa was just a weak minded woman. The duties of the crown was too much for her. (That totally sounds like projection there, Azula. 👀)

*end of eating disorder topic*

Then the team would hit a brick wall in their investigation. Zuko and Azula would think about their past, recalling their Uncle Ikem and the stories he used to tell them about the spirits. They never knew what happened to Ikem, just that their father forbade them from ever mentioning that name in his presence. Then someone would say that happened around the same time as their mother's banishment. Then Azula would pose that perhaps their mother ran away with Ikem.

Zuko would be surprised Azula would even suggest such a thing. "Our mother loved our father." "Don't be so dense, Zuzu. How she looked at father was nothing compared to how she looked at Ikem." "That's not how I remember it." "Think about it, a weak woman, unable to fulfill her royal duties, is given a chance to run away, free from the pressures of the crown. It sounds like an opportunity no fool would turn down." (*Ahem, Azula, your mask is slipping.*)

I think in the very beginning of their investigation, Ozai would be interrogated for information about Ursa. This is where Ozai reveals he has no clue where she is. He had sent an assassin after he but they had returned empty-handed. It's as if she disappeared off the face of the earth.

So now as Zuko contemplates where their mother would've gone given all their clues. Then it dawns on him the tale of The Mother of Faces. Ikem would tell him and Azula the story and claim that she was real, living deep in the forest near his hometown - Hir'ra.

Noriko's and Noren's Illegitimate Marriage

Now at the very end of the chapter after Ursa and Ikem restore their original faces, they come to learn that Ozai is still alive. Terror falls over the pair's faces. They had assumed with Zuko being the Firelord meant that Ozai was dead so they were unworried by the repercussions their return would have.

Now the pinch here is that Ozai had never divorced Ursa, they were merely separated even with the banishment. This makes Ikem's and Ursa's marriage illegitimate. Also, their marriage certificate has the names Noren and Noriko, not Ikem and Ursa. This then makes Kiyi technically a child out of wedlock. ALL of this is considered a SCANDAL in the eyes of the general public.

Now imagine this song but with the perspective of a narcissistic husband talking to his wife who is trying to divorce him. It fits perfectly I think.

And that's how I would close the chapter.

[fatedroses]

May I humbly request more Mateus+Zenos content/lore? Their silliness fascinates and captivates me.

Absolutely Anon! And I'm glad to hear it ^o^. I'm gonna slap this under a read more though cause this is probably gonna be pretty long lol

---

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Mateus (I realize I don't think I ever specified that he's closer to the twins/fordola/arenvald in age, he's 19/20 by EW) was "studying" engineering before the death of his father and the subsequent fall of the empire. He excels in building advanced machina, and was primarily just coasting through the academy to build up both his reputation and his connections. Similar to Zenos he was fascinated by magic, and thusly dedicated a lot of time experimenting with ways to conduct and command aether.

Despite being the favored son Varis could not keep track of Mateus' whereabouts even when he had doubts, and Mateus has no qualms lying through his teeth even to his family and even to his mother. This meant that when he was out, he was often either out salvaging or using allowance to fund his projects, or doing his own martial training as a pastime.

What Mateus was doing was both fixing up an old decommissioned airship, and making "Heaven" and "Hell", two humanoid machines he was making for the purpose of conquest. He was often daydreaming of the day Zenos or Varis would ask him to join them, and is a bit of a sore spot for him after having to flee the collapse and finding Zenos with the scions later down the line.

Heaven is a large multi-armed siege machine that doubles as an autopilot for the airship. It stores aether to charge Mateus' staff, and primarily works to protect him. Hell is based visually off of Zenos' old armor, and is a hyper aggressive machine that Mateus can wear as a suit if he's feeling particularly destructive. The ship, Mateus, and the machina basically operate together like a bullet hell lmfao. Hell also starts getting Zenos into a shit ton of trouble especially with the alliance when Mateus starts wreaking havoc behind everyone's backs and Zenos starts getting blamed for it.

Post-EW Mateus is spending his time trying to salvage and aid (take over) Garlemald, often accompanied by the only two outside his family still around that really knows the truth of his existence: Julia and Annia. The Soranus sisters, especially after Zenos returned to the palace, were basically big sisters to Mateus, however he wasn't as attached to them as he was to his actual family, and sees them more as useful pawns than as mentors.

Mateus despises Alphinaud and Alisaie, and Estinien, the same way Asahi did to WoL. Meteor gets to dodge this purely by virtue that Mateus finds him useful (and in a way tries to treat him likes he treats Zenos in an attempt to win him over too). But he gets aggressively bitter whenever Zenos dotes on Alphinaud or Alisaie at all. Even despite him trying to cover his intentions they push his buttons unintentionally to either get him into arguments with the former, or fights with the latter (and starts snapping a bit when Zenos gives the twins advice/training and Mateus loses most footing he has on both fronts.)

Alphinaud especially is very wary of Mateus because he can tell there's something synthetic about his facade, and tries very hard to both glean his intentions and pick out where his lies are and why. Alisaie however is just ready to throw down with him tbh, especially when Zenos starts struggling with figuring out how to handle him, and even moreso whenever Mateus is trying to isolate Zenos.

Now... why Estinien? It's less the feeling of being replaced like it is for the twins, and moreso Mateus being an overbearing and bullheaded younger brother and thinking for some forsaken reason Zenos and Estinien are in a secret relationship. He is very adamant about this conspiracy and Zenos himself is unable to pry why Mateus gets so aggravated with Estinien, when the dragoon literally is just existing there and only intervenes with Zenos whenever Mateus is picking on the twins.

Why this came into existence is just because I write Zenos and Estinien as a really close duo (to the point tbh that it's kinda fair for Mateus to assume it despite the rest of the scions knowing this isn't the case).

The two bonded over hunting together, and Estinien and his /lean wall is just what Zenos naturally gravitates to if he isn't needed for something. They also argue like an old married couple with Zenos getting on Estinien's ass over finances or him blowing himself up doing dragon dragoon bullshit, and Estinien likewise is either grabbing this man by his golden locks for trying to be the last to get tended to for injuries, or prodding at him when he's trying to pry into why Zenos is either being moody or starts falling back into apathy.

Mateus also just gets aggravated with the fact that Zenos has the most physical "dependence" with Estinien, and being the spoiled baby brother meant that he wasn't a fan of whenever Zenos chooses to lean on or rest his head on Estinien (because post-ew zenos is very physically clingy and Mateus is not used to his brother seeking affection let alone reacting to it). Estinien in turn indulges it cause he's a bro like that and honestly Zenos is so genuine about it all that it's hard for him to find a reason not to, and he's so used to him protecting him, picking him up, and throwing him that the proximity is just second nature by now LOL.

So with all that, it is very unfortunate for Mateus when he tries to corner Estinien and threatens him to try and get him to go away. Because the intimidation fails miserably Estinien leans deeply into the conspiracy just to piss the spoiled little brat off (or, because I frankly dont mind people using the lore/concepts/characters I write for their own stuff and someone ships dork and dorkier over here he's deadass just more outwardly affectionate). Meanwhile Zenos is blissfully unaware for the most part, man's just happy to have the companionship lol.

[outofconcheol]

resonance (scb x f!reader) - teaser

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, arranged marriage, cyberpunk au, 18+

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

warnings (to be updated with final fic): strained parent child relationships (OC's parents are jerks), class differences, failed past relationship mentioned, i think that's it for the teaser.

word count: 1k for the teaser, expected 10-15k for final fic

a/n: surprise! i struggled with coming up for an idea for Changbin's bday fic for the longest time, and of course i finally come up with one when his birthday's way past. I can't make any promises but I'm working hard on this and hoping to get it to you by the end of this week maybe (if work cooperates). Also, thank you to the lovely sarah (@caelesjjk) for the banner. I hope you enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a/n pt. 2: if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

[vixensbrainrotts]

HIII love ur hcs and stories sm 😩😩

can i request a smoker and skater reader x mikey where she teaches mikey to skate?

AAAAA THANK YOU IN ADVANCE (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Hit the Curb, Baby! - Manjiro <Mikey> Sano

Content: Ask- based

Warnings: smoking, allusion of an accident (?), not proof read

Summary: Mikey’s always admired your skating skills, so come the day you finny agree to teach him, he’s over the moon.

Vixens two cents: I absolutely can! Thank you so much for asking, I loved writing this one! (and it was a lot more casual than what all else is in my drafts right now.) I’m glad to know you’re enjoying my content :D. Feel free to let me know if you think of anything else, or if you have any thoughts about this one! As always- REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! Now enjoy!!

“Watch your feet you dunce, you’re gonna kiss the concrete and crack your skull if you don’t.” You snark from where you’re sitting on the curb, a sharp exhale of smog billowed up in front of you, shrouding Mikey from your sight.

Mikey groaned in response, stepping off the board and throwing his head back into his neck like a toddler would. Snapping upright again he inspects the skateboard closely. How in the world can he swerve lane to lane on a two-wheel high-speed vehicle, but fails to stand straight on what is essentially a piece of wood with four wheels?

You chuckle as you got up, slipping your jacket off your shoulders and approaching him. “Before you do something dumb again, lemme show you.” Mikey looked at you curtly before obeying and stepping away, giving you some space. He inspected you closely as you took a drag from your cigarette and blew it away from him, keeping the cig tucked in your left hand as you approached.

“Look, It’s not that hard, you just have to keep your chest up and your feet parallel, shoulder width apart.” You step onto the board leisurely, rocking back and forth to prove a point.

“Come here.” You guide him to stand in front of you, looking down on him from atop the starter board. “Oh, wow I’m taller than you for once.” You mutter and smile slightly.

Mikey’s stomach tingles weirdly when you say that, and his eyes dart up to yours, trying to find a trace of anything akin to the way he felt. Wordlessly he obeyed and stepped in front of you.

“Good. Alright. Now match your feet to be the same distance apart as mine.” You spoke and took one last drag from the cig, flicking it into the nearby gutter with excellent precision.

Again, Mikey followed your orders, shuffling his feet to be about as far apart as yours were on the board. He looked down to check the distance, and then looked up at you again, waiting for your approval.

You gave him a satisfied nod and reached out both your hands. “Take ‘em.” His eyes widened a tiny bit, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice how clammy his hands were. Despite the worries he grabbed your hands and let you guide him.

“Replace your feet with where mine stood.” Your voice was lower due to proximity, and the way that you looked at him when he rose to a stand on the board made his stomach flip.

Looking down at you he once again momentarily realized just how close you two stood, and his mind started racing.

Did he put on deodorant earlier? What about cologne? Surely it’s worn off by now… did he even manage to brush his teeth after breakfast? Yeah, he did- but he had some snacks earlier so that’s down the gutter for sure.

He was snapped out of his daze by the loss of warm skin contact as you pulled your hands away from his, letting him stand on his own.

“Good.” You said as you stepped away, watching him balance his weight on his own. “Just stand there for now.” You said, and as you spoke Mikey started focusing more on what was happening around him. He looked down at his feet that stood sort of securely on the board, and let his gaze drift from his torn-apart sneakers to the street, the curb you were sitting on, the path you two walked down earlier, and finally the sigle lamp that lit up the lonely road you two were on.

„Rock your feet back and forth, shift your weight like you’re reeling up for a kick.“ You urged him a little, keenly waiting for him to move. He took your advice wordlessly, not daring to move anything you didnt tell him to move.

Carefully, he looked down at his feet again and pretended that he was about to kick some nerds face in, softly and slowly shifting back and forth on the board. You hummed in approval, and Mikey’s ears perked at the sound.

“There you go.” You said and stepped closer to him again. “Tighten your core and set your shoulders back, I’m gonna push you forward so don’t resist.” Mikey felt his skin tingle where you touched him at the waist, warm hands firmly grabbing his torso and stepping close to his body.

“Ready?” You asked and he gave a determined nod. “Let’s go.” Despite the warnings you gave him, Mikey still flailed little when you started pushing him, the smooth concrete beneath him sounding in the signature rumble underneath the wheels.

You laughed a little when he caught his balance, assuring him that “I’ve got you.” Mikey breathed shortly and allowed himself to get used to the feeling, to remember how his feet were positioned, and more importantly how your hands felt on his waist.

“I’m letting go, just roll for now, we’ll get you used to standing first, yeah?” You say, a little louder due to the noise, and with one last push, you stay standing and sent him on his way.

Standing alone and tall on the board, Mikey felt like he was on top of the world. Confidently he stood and glided down the street a bit further before the acceleration slowed and he rolled to a stop.

“I did it!” He exclaimed, still standing half-frozen atop the skateboard, not daring to move in fear of falling. He heard you approach him from behind and cautiously turned his head to look at you. You carried a soft, sweet expression as you looked at him with a proud smile. “You did! How was that?”

“Great! Again!” His smile was cherry and wide across his face, and he was sure he looked like an idiot right now but he really didn’t care. Not when he had you here, teaching him one of your passions.

“Again?” You asked and reached for your back pocket, producing a box of cigarettes out of nowhere, flicking the lid up and taking one out, letting it dangle from between your lips. “Yes, again!” Mikey replied, still not having moved from his position.

“Alright Tony Hawk, let’s get you back to starting position then.” You smiled as you offered him a hand, the other reaching in your jacket that you had shrugged on again and taking out a lighter.

Mikey took your hand graciously and got off, only sort of stumbling once his feet met solid ground again. He picked up your skateboard and tucked it under his arm, straightening and looking to you again.

The little flame produced from your lighter flickered across your pretty features, casting a shadow under your eyebrows and across your nose. You inhaled, lighting the tabac with a crackling noise, and then looked at him. Your eyes met, and Mikey felt his breath hitch, his hand tightening a tad around yours.

You smiled at him wordlessly and let the flame die, tucking both the box and the lighter away again, and turning to walk back to your curb. Mikey watched you, heart stuck beating out of his throat until he felt a tug at his hand, making him fall forward and into step with your pace.

You hadn’t let go. So, hand in hand the two of you returned to your curb, and you continued to puff and laugh and push, and he continued to wobble and stand and glide and walk back giddily joining your hands together.

[karasbroken]

I've been meaning to ask you, could you remind me which fic in your Unfamiliar Idioms series has a series of flashbacks to Aeryn's childhood and adolescence where it shows she had an aptitude for science that she didn't explore because being a fighter and a pilot was a better way to advance ranks in the Peacekeepers? I'm working on a fic that draws on this characterization and I want to be sure I credit you correctly if I ever manage to post it (uncertain if I will, I have no idea where I'm going with it)

It took me a bit to find it myself! You don't need to credit me though, it was just a throwaway bit of flavor in one of the early ones, Bless Your Heart:

He thrust out the part he’d been toying with. “What does this piece do?”

It was part of the targeting scope, but if she told him that, he would want to keep talking. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t...” he trailed off, incredulous. “What about the part you’re cleaning? What does that do?”

She could tell him the name, chakkan injector piston, part PKR2249-0D4. She didn’t have the number memorized. It was etched on the end, to prevent errors when swapping in replacement parts. And as Peacekeeper equipment tended to be clearly labeled, obviously it was part of the chakkan injection assembly, moving oil from the cartridge into the firing chamber in controlled amounts, to avoid misfires or overload. But that wouldn’t placate Crichton. 

They had done this with every bit of tech they came across, and her answers never satisfied him. He always wanted to know how it worked, the science. She could tell him where the piston should be oriented in the stock, or which valve to check for residue if the rate of fire was slower than expected. But it wouldn’t end there.

Why was there a piston at all? What did it pump, and what was its chemical composition? How did the mixture change the power and distance of each blast, and what decisions had been made between longevity and effectiveness, to determine the optimal settings? The very thought of fielding another endless stream of questions was exhausting. “I don’t know, Crichton. It’s not part of my training.”

Amazingly, he stopped talking, letting her return to work under his unsettling gaze. She did not allow her fingers to fumble as she clicked the piston back into the assembly, checking the orientation twice. This rifle was from the Marauder, more powerful than the standard issue one he had overloaded, and they hadn’t found replacement parts for it anywhere on Moya. She didn’t want to risk unnecessary wear.

“Well bless your heart, Miss Sun.” That confounding phrase again. But this time, the way he said it, low, soft, and slow, carried a clear note of pity. “Aren’t you even curious?”

Against her will, Aeryn was reminded of another man, another Tech, who chided her for her lack of interest, as if keeping questions to a minimum and minds on task wasn't drilled into every soldier from the creche.

She knew the question was a mistake the moment it left her mouth. The instructor didn’t know either, it was clear from the way his mouth tensed, and then his gaze shifted from the disassembled pistol in front of her, to her face. “You’re very curious for a warrior, Sun.” The instructor flipped open his datapad with that little flick that never meant anything good. “Head of your cohort in equipment maintenance. Excellent field resourcefulness marks. Top 2% intelligence profile. But 36th in your unit for conditioning. Your hand-to-hand scores have dropped four ranks this cycle, as well. Are you looking for a transfer to Tech Corps?”

To join the almost faceless swarm who kept the Prowlers running, rather than flying one. No glory but finishing an engine refit in time for the next battle. No risk but an angry captain and an impossible repair schedule. Becoming one of the girls who rolled their work suits low over their hips and lingered outside the pilots’ mess at shift change.

Only seeing the stars through the hangar shields. “No sir!” 

Sun recognized the threat. She spent every rest period in the training room, practicing the most challenging exercises until her arms quivered and sweat ran down her back. By the next testing period, she had already moved up to 25th.

She stopped asking questions.