#people that need it cause i don't ever want another human being to ever feel as miserable and unwanted as i have felt

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[shalotttower]

A Natural Benefit

Title: A Natural Benefit

Fandom: Death Note

Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)

Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.

Word count: 2100+

Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House

"Would you indulge me?"

Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.

His habits are strange but harmless.

"No," you say, just to be contrary.

L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.

"I want to kiss you."

"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"

"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.

"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."

"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.

"Because I don't want to."

A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.

L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.

He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"

Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.

"No."

He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.

"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."

Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.

"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."

He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."

Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.

He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.

L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.

______________________________________________________

You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.

He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.

"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.

"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.

"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."

"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.

You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.

L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.

"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will."

L hums. "Want a bet?"

Your eyes narrow.

"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I leave you alone for two days."

There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.

You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.

A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.

It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.

"The speakers?"

"Switched off."

"The cameras?"

"Those will stay."

Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.

L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.

Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.

Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.

"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.

______________________________________________________

Twelve minutes.

Three more and he's dead.

You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.

_______________________________________________________

The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.

When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.

"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.

That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.

You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.

L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.

Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.

It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.

You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.

There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.

You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.

Anticipation.

"Fine," you say finally.

His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.

He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.

You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.

Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.

"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.

He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.

Band-aids and ripping them off.

You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.

He tastes like caramel popcorn.

Mint tea.

Indulgence.

The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.

It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.

"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."

Technicalities and loopholes.

L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.

"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."

You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.

"I told you it would benefit us both."

[guardian5tiger3]

Waddup B) . Another general reading

Pick an album ! -

1 2

3 4

1. Ice cube group

In da house!! Haha I feel like y'all in da energy of being bout yo money. Or the color green is significant. Shoot y'all might be about the green rn if u kno . This doesn't have to be a super conscious thing a lot of you either way though are in the energy of richness like that so you gonna be attracting money or it's because you're destined to be prosperous at this time or in the near future like that. For some of you it's because you're supposed to use that to help get rid of some form of negativity in the past some how. Others of you should consider getting a new pet if that will make your heart happy you know or confirmation if that's what u been thinking bout. Spirit wants you to make sure you're open to receiving at this time and in the future though cause some of you have an imbalance were you're a bit too humble maybe struggling with your own worth and self perception and this is making me feel sad so I'm really sorry and you guys need to maybe use your logic to conclude it's only the truth that you're a human with a good heart that deserves good things and anyone who ever told you other wise..... Is tripping like they're wrong and delusional and probably a hurt person anyway. If your childhood was bad you're manifesting a lot to replace stuff from all that time and make up for it and stuff and you all are just heavily in a deep great energy I can see y'all auras are mostly either green , blue and a very few of you purple. One specific person has some red. Make sure you stay in touch with your feelings though as I can see how the world might be making you a bit numb or you feel like a bit depressed actually when it comes to the fact that things constantly happen like , in the past I've been depressed and contemplated like how could it be that I have to drink water then go to the bathroom over and over again and it would wear me down thinking about it. It's good to practice having control over your own mental and perspectives ok. Just hella green and gold so wealth wealth money $$ . One love

2. Group KORN !!

You guys are winners in my book . I don't even know why I felt I had to say that . If you actually listen to Korn, while either way you got to listen to their first two albums you know... After that they were cloned for sure just saying . Ok anyway ...

You might catch something right in time whatever that might mean. This could be anything it depends on the individual, someone saying something, something falling almost, idk.if that does happen it must also be a confirmation of something. So I'm seeing a complete ending and then a revival. This group is somehow dealing with the general concept of time ... I'm seeing for some of you this is all past energy some of you right now some of you the future this could even be like way in the future ok. So it just depends . Someone most likely am adult male is speaking well on you and possibly other people you care about or can be related to yourself. This is looking good for your reputation and it might even be saving your reputation. U know what for a few of you this could be someone that's catching something right on time that's what that is for you . Something about something working and smoothly at that, or a job or you working with someone . This could be someone you know from work. Looks like they love you like they have love for you and a lot of other people , this is someone with a good heart even if you can't tell by their personality . Something's " falling apart " I heard and someone's getting away smoothly from anything affecting them . There's an energy of some type of trick being played or more so just an attempt at that. Maybe some type of verbal communicative manipulation. Maybe trying to convince someone to do something they shouldn't like join a group, sign a contract, say something wrong or that can be taken out of context so be careful but I see it being a separate energy that just has no place anywhere and is kind of awkward lol. I got 3 7's . Be careful of deceit at this time and moving forward. Especially regarding people's words and your own. People might be analyzing you or someone else or a situation . I'm getting almost like an investigation for some of you maybe a real investigation . Like the feds even. Especially if by the time you're reading this this as an older post. Holy f*********** I picked up another deck started shuffling and a card that says I investigation popped right out and a little magnifying glass I drew it's also an orange card like I d***n near wanna take a picture and show you guys. Strangely the other card I got is cult

So this is super deep in some way some form of group of people, big or small, serious or silly, depends on who is reading, has attempted to silence someone. I'm guessing a great majority of you it's you that was or is trying to be silenced. I'm getting the metaphor... If you can call it that this isn't even a metaphor I just don't even know I'm kind of appalled cause what I'm getting is that like if you like just decided ok this one needs to go to another life not stay on earth you know so they took something away and try to deprive them of something so either that happens or so that they do not have the energy , capacity, capability of being able to speak the truth but guess what that's the desert card and after that I have the wave card so not just here's a glass of water let's throw you in the ocean and let a wave roll over you ... Metaphorically for whatever you were being deprived of...... And also a card that says break through which also has rain in it :) . So this is gonna hit really fast cause of course that's the universes will. It's kind of like actually a miracle type of energy im even getting the word biblical and also maybe the story of the guy who parted the red sea or together is significantly sorry I should remember his name I read the bible 300 times as a kid haha. But, you guys this is really good the final two cards are the ace of sword , y'all know that's the truth, and four of pentacles so I feel in my heart chakra specifically a sense of calm and that everything is gonna be set right and you'll be feeling good and a there's a good amount about stability. Maybe church is significant to someone. Or a house of worship I don't know. Or a house in general too for some of you. Or a bulldozer ..? Also substantial evidence for a very few of you .

3. No Doubt !!!!

You guys might be family oriented, live with your family, I can pick up on some people's energy of a kind of busy household maybe the sound of pets nails on a hard floor (cute I miss that with having dogs )

Do not drink any open drinks at this time whoever I'm talking to you wouldn't expect this either you trust someone who would do something or you wouldn't expect it of the brand...or something I don't know I don't want to make anyone paranoid just keep your drink on you in your sight or drink unopened ones you know . I can also sense baked chicken I think or grilled you know when it's not fried or anything though ?? You think someone is loyal to you also if you have a dog this is significant. Im getting calm energy somewhat I think spirits around you are in that and trying to stay around you and have that energy around you :) honestly someone around you might be dangerous this isn't a matter of you getting paranoid this would , if it is true for you, be a matter of you coming to terms with something you've probably had hints about for a prolonged period. Maybe since you were young or it's multiple people even for someone else that this also resonates for. Y'all feel really cool like you investigate things kind of like a mystery vibe it's dope . Rainy days and cabins maybe you can dig that or that's what you give other people if they can read energy well. The things you might be into or interested in in the past too might be significant and spirit considered it to have been or be technically research y'all are really smart don't let anyone block you or stop you from anything ? . For real. Yep y'all are super cool and a smaller group y'all might have anxiety or any big or small issue you should practice breathing exercises. You know I make tea and breath in the air when it's hot it also helps asthma or I placebo that for myself but either way it's nice haha. I'm feeling like my brains working faster you guys are really sharp you might also like caffeine lol me too. You guys are so dope you're like putting together a puzzle or intuitively trying to figure something out and you will this is kind of a destiny situation like I can feel in my heart you guys are just the dopest but seriously w really intelligent pile I feel that something is time restricted , destiny, everything youre supposed to get to and have happen and do and it feels super fast paced and so do you , even if u don't notice cause youre used to it. You also feel like you avoid really negative things as easily as a ghost can avoid a human. Better days a head too even. Your bed is significant somehow . One thing I'll note is you may have to, and if so should sooner than later deal with any negative ideas ever put in your mind about yourself make sure you heal your heart and mind . You're moving so damn fast . Your soul has a PLAN . Like, a mission dudes. It'll all make sense in the end I suppose. Keep going 💯💯💯

4 . The Maiden !!!!!

I feel like you guys have some good philosophy or mentalities in life like you know how to and when to go with the flow. Like picture floating down a river and it's to chill out then you're like alright now I gotta get up and out cause there's a rock that will hit me in three feet. Your intuition might make stuff easier . Sometimes your intuition might surprise you or it would if you pay attention you know. You may get a bit frustrated because you don't get to straight up know the future lol I can relate. To. That.

The movie ice age might have something to do with something or if you remember watching it at any point maybe the memory is significant??,

Or someone you remember watching it with for someone. The universe wants to give you what you want and need but you already seem like a generally content soul just with like yourself existing I noticed from the start this is a super chill group . You guys definitely see danger before it comes. Breathing exercises to the point of deep relaxation might be helpful. You're just not supposed to consciously know the future though I'm not sure why but I guess it would technically like by law mess it up possibly . Remember to be calm , at peace when doing any form of work but also remember work is play deep down just like deep down we're still the kids we once were when we were young , which is a good way to realize every person is not so different and I was going to say also that you should maybe focus somewhat on your relations with other people and your social interactions. Just to sharpen your social skills I guess. There looks like there's chaos around you but I don't see it touching you so you're good . Mellow vibes just enjoy the moment and work on patience and stuff maybe. Working would be beneficial you might get joy out of that even if it's building something or it could even be playing in the woods, going to the store, but I am also getting to go play outside and they want me to say like play like you could go pick up a stick and start digging in the dirt hell kinda sounds like fun . Peace and rock on .

[rqnvindr]

fountain of tears

pairing: neuvilette x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff/comfort

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: neuvilette finds you standing by the fountain, alone the rain after an argument. his hidden turmoil can only be solved by hearing your voice again, tender, and unfiltered.

warnings: archon quest spoilers, arguments

a/n: I HAVEN'T POSTED ANY WRITING IN AGES BUT I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR MY OTTER HUBBY! enjoy!!

--

"this is pointless. i'm out."

your words wound neuvilette, the pain shooting deep into his bones. they ring over and over again in his conscious, louder than any vibration that had ever emanated from his cane to resume order during a trial. he sits in his office trying to work, but his thoughts don't subside, not one bit.

he ponders, staring at the stacks of papers in front of him, documents regarding cases that needed to be reviewed in due time. but not today. the amount of time he had in between today's working hours and the next trial reassured him that he could hyper-fixate on the last thing you said to him before storming out the door.

it's strange that he isn't worried for your safety as much as he is over the feelings rooted in your actions. the chief justice knows that humans are more fragile than those who have lived for eons. those who have experienced centuries of change were capable of adapting to different and unexpected circumstances through changing forms, and bestowing ancient powers of the past that contained the wisdoms and strength needed to guide them. he should be more concerned for where you could've possibly have gone within the last day. but he knows that you are also acquainted with a certain traveler that had recently arrived in fontaine and caused an uproar with the hydro archon in court already, everyone was. there's no way they could've left now, taking you with them on their travels. they still had unanswered questions left for lady furina. it is still a possibility though that you're at least staying with them, since you two were in good graces.

you weren't from fontaine though, and the image of you packing your bags and going home by yourself made him shiver. you did say you were heading "out" after all. he had to consider all of the possibilities.

neuvilette was new to human relationships. how long did it take for humans to draw the line? it varies for everyone, since they are given the freedom to dictate their personal connections to others to a certain degree. but how much was too much for you? when it came to you, he not only wanted to understand humans more, but also just you. he wanted to delve into all of your laughter, all of your worries, all of the sighs that escaped your pretty lips. to grasp it and memorize it all, was his greatest desire.

without you, he would basically lose his purpose for inserting himself into the realm of mortality. you already got him this far, and on top of that, he concluded that you were causing him to feel foreign emotions from removing yourself from his sight. even if it hurt, this was a test included in his journey that he had to endure.

but neuvilette does not want to face the predicament without a resolution. instead of wallowing, he decides to leave his office. he was already working overtime anyway, hoping to just drown in reading the same pages over and over again to keep himself grounded. was he always this sensitive? in his mind, he imagined the beings of the past looking down on him.

it's pouring rain when neuvilette steps outside. ah right. he doesn't need another reminder that his sorrows inconvenience the ordinary citizens of fontaine, who are just trying to make it to work on time, rush their loved ones to the doctor, and just go about their lives without the weather impeding on them. people barely carry umbrellas though, they're all accustomed to this and it's too unpredictable (at least for them it is).

he decides to start backwards, far away from the court of fontaine. he heads to the opera house first, and he finds you on the first try. how could he ever mistake you for someone else? you're the only person he has eyes for. especially when you're standing by the fountain of lucine, and carrying a distinct umbrella in a small crowd of people, most of whom appear to be flocked around the opera house's entrance, probably catching magic shows and other performances.

neuvilette is uneasy when he notices how close you're standing to the fountain. you're inevitably drawn to the grand structure that welcomes audiences from within the borders of the land and beyond to the renowned location. the spectacle that delivers the arts and the law all the same. but beneath its beauty lies danger that erases those who get too close. many fontainians had lost their lives from seeking the wonders of what lay beneath the waters that decorate and surround the hydro region itself. by wanting to delve deeper into it, they subsequently drowned, their lifeforce dissipating into the shackles of the streams. both the knowns and the unknowns of the primordial sea were sufficient reasons to express caution towards the lands waters, even if one was not a native who was subject to becoming one with their origins.

if you were to become the next victim, the rain would proceed to crash down and become one with the fountain in a continuous flow of precipitation. and then fontaine would be known as "the land of storms" rather than "the land of justice".

as he approaches the fountain, neuvilette's desire to pull you away and drag you back to him with no hesitation stirs. yet, it immediately dissipates when you turn your head, and give him what he guesses is a contemplative look. the white-haired man chooses his words carefully. giving you a lecture about the rumored dangers of the fountain's ability to dissolve human beings would only alarm you. he should use the rain as an excuse to find somewhere safer, if you still weren't ready to return to your shared residence.

"it-"

"i know. you're going to ask why i'm standing out here as if it isn't pouring rain." neuvilette barely gets a syllable out before you take the words right out of his mouth. you guys always had a habit of finishing each other's sentences, and even in a moment as anxiety-inducing as trying to make amends when you were mad at him, his heart melts. goodness, why did you have to be so lovely?

"if i were to let the rain impede everything, i guess i'd be a shut-in." you shrug. "it's been raining non-stop for the past couple of days. and no one seems to question it, so i just go along with it as if it's completely normal for it to be bright and sunny one day, and then cloudy and rainy the next day."

when you finish your thoughts, neuvilette still waits for you to continue. he was somewhat relieved that you were able to talk to him normally, but knew that there had to be more you had to say. were you going to officially end things between you two? say that you needed more time to think about the state of your relationship? he wasn't going to talk you out of anything, or start a debate. he respected your decision no matter what, even if it were to sting, he had to hear it. and the conversation had to go somewhere if he also wanted to deliver his side as well.

"i have heard some of the locals say though, that whenever it rains in fontaine, it is because the hydro dragon is crying." you say, as you gaze up at the sky. "i don't know if you have ever heard of it, but if such a tale were to be true, then i wonder what he could be going through for it to be pouring rain every other day."

neuvilette hopes he hid how quickly he blinked. normally he was good at hiding his reactions to hearing this "legend". although he never wanted to hide anything from you, the truth behind the mysterious precipitation was something he hadn't had the best opportunity to tell you about.

"yes, this is an old legend indeed. i often hear parents and caretakers telling this to children, whenever it's too wet to play outside." this was as much as the chief justice could water it down. he really did not want to lie before approaching a sensitive topic.

"as much as i would love to continue hearing the knowledge you have extracted from your time here, i have come here with another objective." neuvilette says. "i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i have also been worried about you for the past few days. you do not have to disclose your whereabouts from the period in which we were apart, but i am happy that you're safe."

"it's alright, really." you reply calmly. "i was also in the wrong for storming out like that and not communicating with you. i was pretty upset, yeah, but i should've just told you that. i'm sorry for being immature and leaving you in the dark."

neuvilette notices tears streaming down your eyes. as your head tilts downward, they drop to the ground and blend in with the rain droplets. instead of offering you his handkerchief, he gently caresses both sides of your face with his gloved hands. you lean into his touch more, until you're wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, letting your umbrella drop to the ground. he reciprocates, stiffly at first, but then holds you with no intentions of letting you go.

you're no longer choking back sobs, and then the sky clears up as the rain comes to a stop. you pull away from the hug to observe the sky, staying connected with your hands intertwined this time.

"wow...the hydro dragon must have been distraught watching us as if we were his new favorite play or something." you laugh.

neuvilette chuckles, knowing that you would of course find the occurrence to be a mere coincidence. "it seems that he must be quite fond of you, my dear."

"well, i'm already taken so i guess he will have to stick to me being his favorite character." you shrug obliviously with a smile.

as your lover, neuvilette has adjusted to being more vulnerable with you. you had seen the good and the bad sides of him, the latter especially during the latest argument that the two of you had now cleared up. and even then, you still let him back in. he doesn't have to worry about baring his entire soul to you now, and will slowly navigate you through his past and identity as the hydro dragon, who entered human society as the iudex. the vulnerable figure whose emotions affect the weather, and struggles to connect with others. you're the one worthy of knowing the truth though, and he makes a promise to himself to never hide anything from you from here on out.

[pandorafairy]

Finders Keepers

Neteyam x Daughter of Quaritch (first person)

Quaritch's daughter on Earth had cancer. As a last resort, she was put into a Avatar body and brought to Pandora. One night, she is sick of being stuck with the RDA and she sneaks out. Deep in the forest, she runs into a Na'vi boy.

Quaritch shoves his weapons into his pack as his squad loads up the helicopter behind him. His new body is somewhat familiar, despite being blue. He still has his scar and lethal eyes. He’s still my dad, even if I refuse to call him that.

My own body is still foreign to me: blue, tall, a tail, perked ears. I miss my human form, even if I was decaying, my body full of cancer. Quaritch found me when I was right on the brink, days away from dying. He told my mom he could help me, put me into an Avatar body like his where I could live longer. My mom was hesitant, she doesn't like Quaritch but she wanted me to have a life so she agreed.

Quaritch was hardly ever around growing up, he was way too career focused. He left my mom to do it all alone. But now, he has this newfound need to be a father. Maybe he feels guilty? Or maybe it's cause we're both blue. I don’t know, but either way he insisted I join him on Pandora since my Na'vi body will have no place on Earth. My mom didn’t want me to go but she had no choice; Quaritch always got his way.

Which means that I never get my way.

I cross my arms and stare at Quaritch. "I want to go with you."

“No,” he says gruffly as he jams his gun into it’s holster, “you’re not allowed out there.”

His voice echoes off the metal walls of the compound. “You can’t expect me to stay holed here!”

“Oh, yes I can.”

“I refuse to spend my life in this metal box!” I yell at him before lifting my mask and taking a puff of air. “It’s not made for me.”

“Your human body wasn’t made for you either, kid.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this but the words sting. I can’t help but think of my frail body and bald head. Quaritch turns and marches off towards the rest of his squad. I wish he would just let me out but he's so paranoid about the local Na'vi. He says they're dangerous.

"I'm going insane here!" I scream after him. He doesn't turn around as he disappears around the corner. God, sometimes I wish I had just stayed on Earth. Even if I had cancer, it's better than being here. At least there I had mom and friends. All I have here is a metal box, guns, robots, and psycho military freaks.

Speaking of, a group of them walk past me. Their camo uniforms are the only ounce of color in this place. They don't spare me a look as they pass but I know they see me. No one here dares to look at me. Maybe they're uncomfortable with my Avatar body? Maybe because Quaritch is my dad?

"UGH!" I scream, letting my frustration out. A few scientist looking people in white lab coats look in confusion. I stick my tongue out at them and take another inhale from my mask.

The thought of returning back to my small, windowless room, is enough to make me want to throw up. The hospital was better than this. My mom promised me it would be amazing here: the nature, the culture, the time with my dad (she forgot to mention that Quaritch happens to be an insane overprotective workaholic.)

I take a few steps towards my room before stopping. A few workers nearly ram into me. They step hastily over my tail, adjusting their hard hats before scurrying down the hall. Everyone here thinks I'm different. A freak.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the steel walls. A strange blue figure stares back out me. I recognize the brown tank top and cut off shorts. But the swishing of a tail and the perk of ears; are still foreign. How can I ever know or even enjoy my new body if I'm forever trapped in here?

That's it. I'm going out. Screw whatever Quaritch has to say. I back track, immediately plotting the best way to escape the compound. Which soldiers to avoid, which ones I can bribe, and the best way to leave without a trace.

Quaritch might be furiouse but hey, he should've let me tag along.

~~~

Sneaking out was easier than I originally thought. I scuttle through an underground tunnel that the work cars use to get into the forest. I stay close to the walls, using my new sense of hearing to make sure no one is coming.

And of course, no one does. There probably isn’t a single person in this place that would notice if I went missing except Quaritch. I shove all those thoughts out my mind as I reach the end of the tunnel. Moonlight streams in from the end of it like a sigil of freedom.

My heart lurches in my chest. Finally, I can go outside. I take my mask off and tuck it into the waistband of my shorts. Chitters from animals I don’t recognize float through the tunnel.

I pause as I reach the archway that leads out into the night. The ground looks so soft, covered in greenery and plush plants. The trees are huge, they loom in front of me, making my heart soar. I haven’t been excited about something in so long.

I take one cautious step out, partially expecting for an alarm to go off. But nothing happens. I let a breath of relief followed by a little laugh. I’m outside!

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, smelling the freshness, pines, and the hint of something sweet that fills the Pandora air.

I open my eyes and take off into the forest. My eyes adjust naturally to the darker night and the two moons illuminate the path between trees. All the plants glow brightly and some even twirl as I pass by. All that time, I've been cooped up and missing all of this.

Animals call to each other as they swing through the trees. None of them approach me, they just swing by, seeing me as part of their ecosystem. A smile forms on my face as I keep running. I don’t think of anything. I just let myself enjoy this freedom, enjoy finally feeling at home in my new body

After awhile, I stop to catch my breath. My new body is filled with peace and serenity being in my rightful environment. I place my hand on a nearby tree and close my eyes. Maybe Pandora isn’t so bad.

I walk around the tree and halt, my breathe flying out of me. It’s a small clearing, covered completely by the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. Long petals, all of them shining, some of them twirling slowly. A sweet aroma envelopes me. “Oh,” I gasp as I step slowly into the flower garden.

My mom would love these. She brought me tons of flowers when I was sick. My heart bangs at the sudden thought of her, alone in our small apartment. I reach forward and grasp a petal between my fingertips. It’s soft, much softer than I’d expected.

I think I could stay here forever and just get in lost in the beauty of it all. I mean, this is what my dad has kept me from? What is he so afraid of? I haven’t even seen a sign of the Na’vi…

“Bro, will you please just chill?” A voice cracks through the trees. I go rigid. It’s a boy’s voice. Young and adventurous. And definitely Na’vi. Great.

My hand shake nervously. I inch slowly to the ground before shuffling to the nearest tree where I stand and push myself flat against it, praying he won’t come this way.

“We need to go home,” another voice says, a more mature one, “it is past eclipse and dad will skin us.”

The voices sound like they're coming from my left but I don't dare to peek around the tree.

"Your such a wuss," the younger boy snaps. The voice is getting closer. My blood runs cold. I curse myself for never listening to Quaritch's lessons on how to fight.

Leaves rustle as the boys move closer to me. Please, please let them just walk by, I pray as I squeeze my hands together.

A branch snaps, piercing the air, followed by a loud smack and laughter.

"Ow," the younger voice cries, "Bro!" More laughter fills the air, presumably the older one. They must be brothers.

"You know bro," the young one starts, "I'll just do it anyway." The ground vibrates as footsteps sprint towards me. I go completely still.

The footsteps grow louder as the boy comes closer. I try not to think or breathe. There's a loud crashing from the other side of the tree. The boy runs through, sending a gust of air towards me. He didn't see me from my hiding spot.

I let out a breath of relief before patting the tree as though to say thank you. A moment of silence passes. My heart rate begins to slow. I take a few deep breaths. God, that was close.

I'm about to move away from the tree when a sharp spear shoves me back against the rough bark. A shocked gasp escapes my lips.

A boy stands before me, his fingers grasping the weapon and his amber eyes blazing. He's wearing a loincloth and woven headband where his ears lay flat against his skull. His lips are turned downward into a dangerous scowl.

My heart is banging against my chest. Quaritch was right. I shouldn't have come out here. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

Suddenly, my neck stings. I let out a hiss as blood trickles down my neck. He just cut me! The boy doesn't say anything as he pushes his spear harder against my skin.

Fear races through my body. I don't want to die like this. I inhale sharply, ignoring the pain in my neck. "Please," I whisper as I slowly lift my hands up, "I don't mean any harm. I was just looking at the flowers."

A flicker crosses the boy's eyes but it's gone in an instant.

"I just wanted to see the beauty of the forest," I continue, my hands shaking.

The boy lifts his head slightly. His pupils widen as he studies my face. His eyes trail the line of my tanktop and shorts in disgust. Evidence of skypeople.

At least if I die, it will be in this amazing forest.

The boy goes still and he tilts his head as if he sees something in my expression. I meet his gaze, hoping to seem brave when a jolt runs through me. It feels like I've been electrocuted. His eyes light in surprise.

"Neteyam!" The younger voice calls from further in the forest. "Bro, let's go!"

Neteyam. He doesn't look away from my eyes. My body begins to feel warm and calm, despite the spear being held to my throat. It's like my body recognizes him. Like we've meet him before. His tail swishes slowly behind him.

"I'm for real!" The voice is louder. He's headed this way.

The boy, Neteyam, quickly shoves his spear away and takes a step back. I should feel relieved that the weapon is away but all I feel is the empty space where he once stood.

He shakes his head briskly, like he's trying to clear his mind.

"Dude," the young voice yells again, but I can hardly hear over the ringing in my ears, "dad is for sure gonna skin us now."

Neteyam looks towards the sound of his brother's voice. My tail flicks behind me, an instinctive movement I've never done before.

Neteyam turns his head towards me. "If you like these flowers," he says softly, "you'll like the ones under the Hallelujah Mountains."

He runs off into the forest before I have a chance to reply. He rustles through the leaves. Then, the low rumble of his voice mixes with his brother's until both of their sounds disappear and I'm alone in the forest.

You'll like the ones under the Hallelujah Mountains. My lips split apart into a grin. The warmth in my stomach is still there, fluttering out to my fingers and toes. Like my body is a magnet, fighting to find him again.

I push off the tree and make my way back to the compound. I should be worrying about sneaking back in or getting caught by Quaritch, but I don't. All I can think about is that boy. Neteyam. Who is he?

I don't even care. All that matters is that I see him again.

~~~

Thank you for reading <3

Ahhh, this was so fun to write!! I thought of this idea when I saw Avatar 2 again yesterday and I was like I have to do it.

I feel like this could be fun as a series?? I don't know, I do a lot of series so maybe this will just be a oneshot. Let me know what you think :)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hello there! I've been a fan of your work for a while now and let me just say, your original works and characters have me absolutely captivated! (Your yandere outlaw is one of my top favorite fictional characters! And your yandere cult leader is rapidly rising in the ranks 👀) You put so much detail into all your writing and you really delve deep into the psychology and personality of every one of them so beautifully, not to mention how diverse they all are from one another. Each and every one has such dimension and they're so believable in their actions and reactions! (And can I just say I think it's very clever that your yandere!Milf/Dilf's names start with the acronym's initial)

And your MCs are also quite vibrant and while they remain easily relatable they still have distinct traits that the characters get attached to. Thank you for making and sharing these amazing stories and characters with us, it really makes my day whenever I see you've posted something new.

Now, I know this ask is getting pretty lengthy (sorry about that ^^" I tend to ramble) but I was going through your Yan!Dilf works again and I wanted to ask, how would Dominic react if his darling was someone who's maybe dealt with manipulative people in the past or is highly emotionally intelligent and observant who could tell he wasn't being entirely genuine? But instead of pulling away from him they try to understand what he wants from them and was open about it? Would he ever even become obsessed with someone like that or allow that kind of situation to happen or is he too cautious for it to be possible?

I know you've had a lot of asks so please don't feel obligated to answer this! But in any case thank you again for sharing your works and I hope you have a wonderful wonderful day! 💖💫

My Lovely, you have positively touched my soul with your endearing sentiments ! Truly, you have made my day and I cannot thank you enough for being such a loyal enthusiast of my work, your time is valued more than I can ever hope to express <3.

Your question is an incredibly fascinating one, my Dear; thank you for sharing it with us ! I wish you the happiest and most prosperous of days, Sweetie ^^

TW: Manipulation, Dominic Being Dominic, Vulnerability, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

♡ Dominic is, as you suggested, initially extremely cautious around you. However, he knows he can't just drop you like a sack of potatoes; it would be far too obvious to the people around him, which would surely cause others to find him out as the serpent he is if they ever went digging around his character.

♡ But, when you show him, gradually, like a keeper feeding a feral animal, that your endeavour is not to oust him as an un-human but rather to understand what made him like this in the first place (and all the lace and frills that come with such a monumental task), he regards you...differently than he did before.

♡ Sure, he thought you were very attractive and that you could offer him something other than the resplendence his life is steeped in, but now...

♡ He feels exposed. Seen. Vulnerable.

♡ All things he tries to push back against. Things he tries to bury beneath a grandiose tale of a childhood spent in the most accommodating of educational establishments, lavish mansions and the lap of luxury.

♡ He tries to lead you a merry dance down a version of his life that he wants you to see, rebuttaling your attempts at making him crack.

♡ You tell him you can see past that. He, feeling his eye twitch, believes you.

♡ It will take a long, long time to get Dominic even close to admitting a scintilla of how his psyche works. Or, rather, doesn't work.

♡ And it's only if you manage to grind away at his need to hide his most precious secret - the parasite that wears his skin and controls his mind - that he'll open up.

♡ Fractionally. Piecemeal. But he opens up, nonetheless.

♡ He'll grow to love you in ways unfathomable even to him.

♡ If you thought he was bad without having a background in combatting the manipulation of others, he is insidious now.

♡ You become to him what he could never be for himself; a safe haven. The only person from which he does not hide.

♡ Sure, he keeps the more...dangerous aspects of his personality hidden for a lot longer than others, but you can topple these columns, can shake Dominic from his perch forged from the ivory of a devil's horns.

♡ You can tame him in ways unimaginable. You have only to see him for who - what - he truly is.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[littleseasiren]

Alpine

Summary: Your long-time crush Bucky has a secret, a tiny white kitten. She's the cause of some interesting situations between you and the handsome super soldier. When Bucky's secret gets out, will it bring you closer together or break you apart?

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mainly fluff, mention of animal cruelty, threats of revenge on the abuser, Tony being an idiot until the reader makes him see sense.

Words: ~ 5800

A/N: Grammarly is my beta reader, so any mistakes are my own. Comments and reblogs will be appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Thanks for reading!

"Bucky!" Your voice echoes in the empty hallway. 

The super soldier looks like he is going to ignore your call but halts after a few seconds. He turns around, eyes wide open in innocence.

"I didn't do anything..." he mumbles softly. "I gotta go."

He turns around once again and starts walking to his room, his steps rushed.

"Wait!" You run in front of him. When he doesn't stop, you walk backwards, keeping him in your sight. "Where were you? We were supposed to have lunch together?"

"Crap," he sighs. "I'm so sorry doll. I got held up and forgot."

"It's ok. I saved you a plate. Why don't you come with me then you can eat it?"

"I, uh... can't." 

"Why? What's wrong?"

His eyes don't meet yours. "I just don't feel well. I gotta go." 

He sidesteps you when a strange sound comes from his zipped-up hoodie.

"Bucky, what was that?" You run after him, his strange behaviour making you suspicious.

"It's nothing." When he sees you don't believe him he rubs his forehead in apprehension. "Uh, it was my stomach."

"Bucky, for a spy, you suck at lying to me." 

When another sound is made, you realize it kind of sounds like a meow. When your eyes widen in shock, he firmly pulls you into his room and locks the door.

"Please, don't tell anyone." His eyes beg you, the blue seeming to hypnotize you until he carefully zips down his hoodie and pulls out an ivory-white ball of fluff, and holds it in his hands. The ball of fluff meows and turns to look at you. You gasp when bright blue eyes meet yours, the kitten seeming tiny in Bucky's large hands.

"I know we're not allowed to have pets. Trust me, I didn't plan on getting one. She just happened."

"She? It's a girl? Are you sure?" You move closer to him, reaching out slowly and rubbing the little cat's head and ears, making her purr softly.

"Yeah, I had to take her to a vet. He confirmed it." Bucky shifts his hold and that's when you see it. A small pink cast is on the kitten's back leg, along with a bandage on her small tummy. You can't stop gasping. Something bad had to happen to the little girl.

"What happened to her?" You ask Bucky as you both move to sit on his couch. From his hoodie, he pulls out a small bag and puts it on the table next to him.

"Humans happened to her. I was on my jog when I saw this car speed into an alley. He threw a box into the dumpster and just sped off. At first, I just thought he was a prick that needed to throw away some trash. But then I heard a faint noise. The closer I got to the dumpster the more I could hear. The box he had thrown away? It had her in it, all bleeding and crying for help. I couldn't just leave her there. So I took her to the vet to be patched up. Thought maybe they would be able to look after her, but since it's the holidays, they are full. So I had to bring her home." 

You can't help but tear up at the thought of what the little kitten had gone through. "People like that should never be able to have pets, ever. They should cut something off too, just to remind him what he's done."

Bucky chuckles next to you but his eyes are dark with anger. "If I get my hands on him, he'll be lucky to make it out with his life. People that abuse animals belong in the ninth circle of hell."

"That's for sure." When she cries out loudly, you both startle. "She must be hungry. Did the vet say what to feed her?"

"Yeah, he said I have to give her this formula for now." He picks up the bag and shows it to you. "He says she's almost 4 weeks old, but since she's a bit malnourished, I need to feed her a little bit every 3 hours. I need to gradually begin to increase the time between feedings before I start introducing wet foods too."

When she cries again you both chuckle at how cute she is. "Guess it's feeding time," he smirks at you as he stands up and walks to his small kitchenette. "Do you want to hold her?"

You almost squeal in delight, your smile lighting up the room. "Yes, please!"

Bucky decides to call the kitten Alpine, due to her snowy colour. You completely agree with him, the name fitting her like a glove.

The two of you work together to feed Alpine before you offer to go out and buy toys and kitty litter for her, secretly hiding it beneath bags of clothes.

When you come back, the two of you set up her supplies and settle in for a long evening of watching movies and feeding the cutest cat in the world.

You wake up to warmth beneath you and a small pressure on your lower back. 

You moan softly, feeling safe and peaceful when a gentle touch runs down your side. Your eyes blink open in surprise and find blue eyes smiling up at you.

"Bucky, I-" you move to get off the big supersoldier but he stops you by grasping your shoulders gently.

"Easy doll, Alpine's going to fly off you if you get up. She's laying on your back."

"Oh," your eyes widen at the situation you find yourself in. You're laying on your stomach, your head on Bucky's shoulder as he lays beneath you. Your stomach to his chest, legs intertwined with a sleeping kitten on the small of your back. 

You've never been this close to Bucky before, seeing for the first time the sprinkle of tiny freckles on his face, his full lips and perfect white teeth open in a smile. Why is he smiling?

Your cheeks burn in humiliation as you realise you've been staring at him and he's noticed.

Before you can apologise, he's talking, voice a little hoarse. "I'll lift Alpine then you can climb off. Just give me a second. I'll try not to wake her..."

"Ok," you whisper, eyes unable to meet him. When his arms creep up your sides, you have to hold in a moan that threatens to burst out of you at his touch. The man you had a crush on for months was touching you, but not in the way you wanted him to.

You pretty much hold your breath when his biceps sandwich you on both sides as he gently scoops up the sleeping kitten in his hands then holds them high in the air as you wiggle out from above him.

When he whimpers you look up at him but his eyes are the epitome of innocence so you must have imagined it. There was no way he liked you too, you weren't so lucky.

His muscles ripple beneath his shirt as he slowly stands up and walks to the new cat bed you had bought earlier, softly laying Alpine down as she continues sleeping.

When Bucky straightens and your eyes meet, you can't help but smile at how gentle he is. A lot of people think he's a miscreant, a bad man born from years of fighting, but he is the sweetest, kindest man that you have ever met. And Bucky holding a small kitten in his hands, so gently like she was made of glass? It just made you love him more. 

The heavy look between the two of you is broken when someone knocks on his door. 

"Bucky? It's me," Steve's voice calls out from the door. You freeze, not knowing what to do. You quickly duck down next to the sleeping Alpine, hidden from view by the couch.

You hear Bucky walk to the door and crack it open slightly. 

"Hey, what's up?" Bucky asks casually, making you smile at his words. He's definitely picked up some slang since he joined the Avengers.

"Hi, Buck. Is Y/N here with you?"

"Uh, no she's not here. Why would she be?"

"Well Buck, unless you started wearing her perfume then I'm guessing she's here." You can hear the smirk in Steve's voice.

You take a deep breath and rise from your position behind the couch. "Hi Steve," you say with a small wave.

"She was...uh...helping me with something," Bucky says to Steve, arms crossed in discomfort.

"I bet she was." Steve's grinning like an idiot, his eyes twinkling with laughter. 

"Tony needs your help on a project," Steve says to you as he looks around the room once again. "Are we going on our run?" He asks a brooding Bucky.

When it seems like Bucky is going to object, he quickly continues, "We'll be quick Buck. Thirty minutes tops."

Bucky sighs but relents. "Fine. Give me ten minutes then I'll meet you downstairs."

Steve winks at you as he exits, gleaming.

Finally, you and Bucky are alone again, neither of you knowing what to say.

The silence is broken by a small cry, Alpine letting the two of you know it is feeding time.

"You go doll. I'll quickly feed her then meet Steve and come back as soon as possible. Hopefully, she'll sleep while we're away." He smiles at you, his blue eyes twinkling with some emotion that you can't place.

"Ok, I'll try and be quick too, but with Tony, you never know. See you soon," you add as you exit the room.

A little more than half an hour later, you're back in Bucky's room, calling out softly but no one answers. Thinking he's not back yet, you enter his bedroom in search of Alpine.

She's on his large bed, napping peacefully when the bathroom door opens and Bucky walks out in what appears to be the tiniest towel that he owns.  

"Oh, hey doll. Didn't know you were back yet. I just forgot to grab my clothes."

"Uh-huh." You nod automatically, eyes focused on the beautiful man in front of you. His sculpted chest is the first thing you see, his muscles so much bigger up close. In the corner of your eye, you notice his scarred shoulder where it meets his metal arm, but you gaze away quickly, knowing it makes him uncomfortable when people stare at it.

Your eyes focus on a bead of water in the centre of his chest, slowly rolling down his sternum and between his well-defined abs, the ridges causing the drop to roll slower and slower until it reaches the edge of the towel he's holding in a clenched fist.

When he clears his throat, you snap out of the trance his amazing body seduced you into. Cheeks on fire, you glance up at him, seeing a confused smile on his face. 

"You alright doll?" His voice is rough, husky even. 

You bring an unsteady hand to your beating heart, hoping he won't hear how hard it's pounding. Eyes wide, you stare at him. How long had you been ogling him? Before your treacherous eyes could dip down again, you take a small step back.

"Me? Oh, fine." Your hands clench together as you do your best to concentrate on your words. "The, uh, cat... Yeah, I need to feed..." Crap, your eyes move down on their own, this time noticing just how large his right arm is, the muscles bulging as he holds onto his small towel.

"You need to feed... the cat?" He's smirking now, his blue eyes shining in the morning sun.

Focus! "Uh huh," you mumble before turning around and starting to walk out of the room. It takes you a second to realise you forgot one crucial element to your plan as you spin around again and pick up Alpine before shutting the bedroom door behind you. 

You catch your breath as you lean against the door, Alpine reaching up with her small paws and rubbing her head against your chest in comfort. "Oh, Alpine. My mind went completely haywire in there."

The second you said the words, anxiety fills you once again as you pray that Bucky didn't hear you speaking to Alpine. Having a super soldier as a friend was sometimes very tricky...

When the bedroom door opens, you're busy playing with Alpine, making her run after a feather tied to a string. You feel his eyes on you but you do your best to avoid looking at him. He watches the two of you for a moment before his voice fills the room, his body moving towards the door. 

"Um, I'll go get us some food. You must be hungry?"

"Thanks, Bucky. That will be nice." You look up at him and give him a quick smile before moving your attention back to Alpine.

"Ok, I'll be right back, you two." He says as he opens the door then stops instantly, seeing Steve standing outside.

"Uh, hey Stevie. I'm gonna go get some food, you want to join?" He mumbles quickly, trying to distract Steve from what he had said earlier. 

"You two?" Steve's eyes are wide open, a look of astonishment on his face. "Please tell me you don't have two women in there?" Before Bucky can say anything he continues. "You've always been kinky, but two at the same time? Maybe you should see-"

"Steve!" Bucky shouts, breaking Steve's tirade. You watch the exchange, too stunned to do anything. Steve is instantly silent until a loud meow comes from in front of you. 

Bucky sighs as Steve pushes through the door and drops down next to you. "Why is there a cat in here?" He whispers to you.

"Bucky rescued her. The ass that had her decided he didn't want a cat anymore and threw her out like trash. Bucky saved her and brought her here." You inform him as he sits cross-legged on the floor. 

"I know we're not supposed to have pets, but I couldn't just leave her. And the shelters are all full." Bucky joins the two of you on the floor and smiles as Alpine rubs her head on his knee before moving to Steve slowly.

The kitten looks up at him before slowly moving closer as Steve extends his hand, giving her a chance to sniff him before she rubs her side on his stretched fingers.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve says as Alpine climbs into his lap slowly, the cast on her leg making her slow. "She was injured then?"

"Yeah, I took her to the vet before I bought her here. I swear if I ever see that-" Bucky clenches his jaw so hard, you're afraid he'll break something. You reach out and hold his hand, showing him you understand. "I'll throw him out like the trash he truly is. Except he won't be alive when I do." He huffs out.

"You've always had a soft spot for animals, glad that hasn't changed Buck." He scratches Alpine's head before he starts giggling. "So, technically, I was right. You do have two women in your room. One's just a feline."

"Yeah, we all know what you were thinking Steve. So much for Captain America being a gentleman." 

"Haha, I am a gentleman. I just never said I was innocent. And neither is he. I know him, he's still kinky. There was this one time one of his dates asked him to-" 

"Steve!" Bucky whisper-shouts. Steve just winks at you in reply. Just what did she ask Bucky, you ponder.

Bucky blushes when his eyes meet yours for a second.

"Why don't you leave me with the cat and you two go grab some food? The others are becoming suspicious of your absence." Steve says as he strokes Alpine softly.

You and Bucky glance at each other and nod in agreement.

"Her name is Alpine," Bucky says on the way out. "She's been fed, so just keep her company. Thanks, Steve."

"And please don't tell anyone about her, she's our little secret," you add on the way out.

Bucky's making his way to the kitchen when you pull him to the side. If your hand stayed on his arm a few seconds too long, you chose to ignore it.

"Um, maybe I should go in first, then you follow in a few minutes? Or do you go in first? If they see us entering together..." your voice trails off, the implication of your words clear to him as his eyes widen and his breath catches.

"Uh, yeah sure. You don't want to give them the wrong impression." His jaw clenches for a second, eyes turned down before he continues. "Maybe I'll check if Sam is still in his room first." He turns around and starts walking in the opposite direction, his sudden departure astounding you. Just what was his issue now?

He and Sam enter the kitchen a few minutes later, his gaze fixed on the plate of food he fills. 

"So Bucky, haven't seen you around today," Natasha says in a sultry voice. You know she's with Steve, but you can't help your hackles rising at her tone. Were you jealous?

He glances at the two of you swiftly before focusing on his food again. "Yeah, I've been busy."

"Very interesting... Y/N's also been busy today."

"Well Nat," your voice is full of irritation, "we are Avengers. So we should all be pretty busy, don't you think?"

The beautiful redhead just looks at you before bursting out laughing. After a few seconds, you can't help but join her. 

Sam and Bucky just look at the two of you in confusion.

"That was good honey," Nat says between giggles as you continue eating. 

By the time lunch is done, Bruce and Tony had made an appearance too. 

You were just grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge when Bucky approached you,  the others having left earlier.

"Doll, I gotta ask," Bucky says as he bites his lower lip, "Before when you said I make your brain go haywire... did you mean that in a good way or in a bad way? I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes..."

You suck in a deep breath, your heart racing. So he did hear you earlier. You start to deny it when you see the look in his eyes. Did he really think you could ever think anything bad of him? 

"Oh, um. I had hoped you wouldn't hear that." He's standing close so you have to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. "But I meant it in a good way." When he doesn't seem to believe you, you continue. "Bucky, you were standing in front of me with just a tiny towel on, of course, I meant it in a good way. You know you're attractive..."

Blue eyes light up as he smirks at you. "So you think I'm attractive huh? So when can I see you in just a tiny towel? To even the odds?"

"Keep dreaming big guy," you reply as you gently punch him on the shoulder.

The two of you giggle together before Bucky looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

"Maybe I will..." 

When you don't answer he clears his throat softly.

"Um... hypothetically, if I stopped being a wuss," he swallows hard, "and I asked you out on a date, what would your answer be?"

Some part of you wants to tease him and make him suffer, but you don't. "Hypothetically, if you asked, I would say yes. Definitely yes."

"Yeah?" His smile is huge, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

Sam appears in front of the two of you, trying to reach for the fridge.

"Sam, not now!" Bucky groans at the man, lightly pushing him away.

"But I want a cupcake!" Brown eyes cry out.

"You just had lunch! You'll get indigestion! Now buzz off!" Bucky forces him to turn around and pushes him forward, making Sam huff in frustration.

When Bucky looks at you expectantly, you simply nod in answer. "Yeah, Bucky. But you still have to ask me," you tease him.

"You little minx! Fine." He takes a deep breath, "Will you go on a date with me? Tonight if you're free?"

"Of course Bucky." Your smile drops, making Bucky anxious. "But who's going to look after Alpine? Can we ask Steve?"

"Yeah, he and Natasha can look after Alpine." 

You stare at Bucky, trying to understand him. "Nat and Steve?" You inquire.

Bucky snorts in reply. "There's no way that punk hasn't already told his lady about Alpine. The fact that he's dating a spy hasn't helped him be able to keep secrets. Not from Natasha."

"Are you sure of that? I think we should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure he can keep Alpine secret for a while..."

"You wanna bet doll? $100 says she already knows."

"Sure, but let's make it interesting. Let's see," you tap your index finger on your chin, "if I win, you have to... take me shopping."

Bucky groans in defeat. You know he hates going shopping. "And if I win? What do I get?"

You eye him up and down, "What do you want?"

The corner of his lip lifts in a half smile. "You really shouldn't be asking me that."

"Keep it PG, Bucky!" You say as you tap his shoulder. 

"Fine," Bucky lifts his hands in defeat. "If I win, you have to kiss me."

"Deal!" You're way too fast in your answer, making Bucky laugh. "Come on, let's see who wins!" You hook your hand into his elbow as the two of you make your way to his room.

Steve's guilty look is the first thing you see when you enter the room. Natasha is lying on her stomach next to him, running her finger on the floor, laughing as Alpine chases after it.

"Steve! How could you?" You cry out in mocking anger. "I defended you, yet you caved so easily?" 

"Sorry! I tried but she saw right through me!" 

"See doll? I've known him forever, he's a weakling!"

"Hey!" 

"Well, it's true isn't it Steve? You lasted like, what, two minutes?"

"Five," Natasha giggles next to him. "Good thing I like that he can't keep secrets from me."

Bucky's eyes are beaming with the promise of your kiss. "So, when do I get my reward?"

You grab his shirt and pull him down to you, clasping your hands around his neck. You lean in closer, your breath mixing with his, before you lean to the side and kiss him on his cheek. 

You're giggling as you pull back, a look of astonishment on his face. "Hey, that's cheating!"

"Sorry Bucky, you never specified where the kiss had to be." You giggle as you join Nat on the floor. Your gaze fixed on Alpine stumbling around.

Bucky is smiling as he joins the small group on the floor. Alpine's movements become slower and slower before she admits defeat and climbs into Bucky's lap. A tiny white ball of fluff on Bucky's thick thighs.

"Guess it's time for a nap," Steve says as he helps Natasha up from the floor. 

You know you're in trouble when Natasha's green eyes meet yours. "I think it's time we had a chat."

Bucky picks Alpine up slowly, making sure not to wake her as you, Natasha and Steve depart.

"So, what's going on with you and Bucky?" Natasha asks as soon as you are far enough away to prevent Bucky from hearing. Steve had left to get lunch.

"He asked me out on a date," your stare ahead, a big smile on your face.

"Finally! You two have been pining for each other for months! And the kiss on the cheek?"

"That was a bet. He believed Steve had already told you and I thought he would keep Alpine secret a little longer. So he won and I owed him a kiss."

"Uh-huh. Anything else happened with him? I picked up some tension between the two of you at lunch."

"Um, I might have fallen asleep with him last night. When I woke up I was lying on top of him with Alpine sleeping on my back. We had to wiggle to get up without waking her." You bite your lower lip, "Then this morning I was looking for Alpine when I kinda walked in on him getting out of the shower in a tiny towel. I swear Nat, seeing those muscles up close almost made me pass out!"

"Seems like Alpine is the perfect matchmaker! She's getting the two of you into great situations!"

Natasha is bubbling with laughter as the two of you make your way to the training room. You are eager to work off some nerves before your date.

 "Ok Alpine, what about if I take her to a fancy restaurant for dinner?" You hear Bucky's voice softly through the door, a small meow being the only answer. 

"Yeah, you're right. It's a bit normal for a first date right? I don't want her to think I'm boring." It's quiet for a second then you hear his voice again. 

"A movie?" Another meow, softer this time. 

"Nope, she won't be able to sit still unless it's a very interesting movie. So what then?" 

"I know, I'll -" 

You knock on his door, not wanting to hear what he has planned and spoil all his fun.

You hear him say something on his way to the door, and Alpine seems to agree enthusiastically if her loud purr is an answer.

When Bucky lets you in and closes the door, you see Alpine sitting on his shoulder, nails holding onto Bucky's shirt for stability.

"Hey, doll. Watch this!" He's beaming as he takes a seat on the couch and removes Alpine from his shoulder. He puts her on the couch and wiggles his left hand. She drops down into a crouch then runs up his metal arm, her back leg struggling along, nails fitting into the grooves of his metal arm perfectly until she's back on his shoulder again, a loud purr coming from her tiny body. "Pretty soon she's going to be able to do all kinds of things. There's no stopping this lady!"

When Alpine's gaze falls on you, she meows and rubs her head against Bucky's neck then stares at you again.

Getting the picture, you move closer to the two of them and bend down to rub her adorable head. Her tail is curled around Bucky's neck as she leans forward into your touch, purring loudly in happiness. 

Bucky pulls you softly forward, making you sit on his knee, his arm around the back of your waist holding you close. His smile is enchanting, a similar grin forming on your face. When he leans down closer, your breath catches. This is what you've been waiting for, a kiss from Bucky Barnes will certainly kill you with pleasure. You've barely begun to feel his lips on yours when his bedroom door shoots open, Steve's imposing figure standing in the doorway.

"We got a problem, Buck." He hastily says as he closes the door and moves closer to the three of you. You climb off Bucky's lap and sit down next to him, watching as Steve approaches.

"Wanda and Vision just came back from their mission. Wanda has a concussion so her powers are a bit wonky. Natasha and I were busy whispering about how to help you keep Alpine a secret. Wanda heard our thoughts and got so excited that you have a cat that she repeated it out loud and... Tony heard. He's on his way here now and he doesn't look very happy."

You gasp in surprise and turn to see Bucky running his hands over his face, knowing what is to come.

"Maybe we can hide her?" You begin to say but are interrupted by the knocking on the door. 

"He won't believe it," Steve sighs in defeat.

"You two just stay out of it, ok? I can take whatever he throws at me. He hates me already anyways." Bucky stands and walks to the door. Alpine held onto his shirt, cuddled up into his neck. 

Tony looks Bucky over, eyes hardening in anger. "Barnes, I give you food and shelter, pay you for going on missions, I take care of you even though I can't stand to see you some days. And all I asked for were a few rules to be followed. One of those rules was no pets. Am I correct in my assumption that that is a cat on your shoulder?" 

Wanda, Natasha and Sam creep into the hallway, watching the scene unfold.

"Yes, Tony. I'm sorry. I found her and the shelters are full for Christmas. I didn't have anywhere for her to go."

"Well, either the cat goes now or you both go. Your choice." Tony doesn't even blink when he gives his ultimatum.

Bucky's brows drop in concern, eyes wide open. "You can't be serious Tony. Give me some time-"

"I don't care Barnes. The cat goes right now."

"Tony you can't!" You shout from the doorway, Steve behind you.

"I can do whatever I want. This is my Tower in case you've forgotten that. I'm willing to overlook your involvement in this but don't make me regret it. Any of you." He says as he faces the others.

"It's ok doll," Bucky says softly as his fingers rub your hand for a second. When he faces Tony again his jaw is clenched with anger. "I'm not going to abandon her too. Alpine and I will be out in 10 minutes."

Bucky walks into the bedroom, his meaning taking a few seconds to sink in before everyone pushes into the room, talking a huffing Tony with them.

"Bucky no," Steve calls out as Bucky grabs a bag in his room, starting to fill it with a change of clothes.

You face Tony, your anger making you shake with adrenaline. "I thought you were better than this Tony. Bucky found Alpine being thrown away like trash, her leg broken, ravenous with hunger. She's barely a month old. Now you're going to punish him for doing the right thing? For following his heart and taking care of a helpless animal? You are an asshole if you punish him for that. You're just letting your anger towards Bucky cloud your judgement. If Bucky and Alpine have to go then so will I."

"Doll don't-" Bucky starts but you interrupt him.

"No Bucky, I don't want to work for someone who hates innocent animals and would prefer to keep them on the streets. I refuse to work for anyone like that. I'm just disappointed that the mighty Tony Stark is like that." You glare at Tony, brown eyes meeting yours for just a second.

"Don't leave without me Bucky. I'll be back in five minutes." You start to walk out of the room but Tony stops you. 

He stares down at you for a moment before he sighs in defeat. "Her leg's really broken?" 

"Yes, it's really broken. Bucky saw a man stop in the alley and throw the box in the trash, luckily he heard her cries and rescued her. He took her to the vet and the vet fixed her up. She's a tiny kitten, Tony. If it was you who found her, would you have just left her there?"

He doesn't answer you as he turns to Bucky's bedroom. "Let me see her."

Bucky gently wraps his large hands around her tiny body, being careful of her cast before he softly puts her in Tony's outstretched hands. He watches Tony like a hawk, analysing his every move to make sure he doesn't hurt his baby kitten.

Tony brings her closer to his chest, his right hand stroking her head softly as sky-blue eyes gaze at him in appreciation. "I don't hate animals. I just can't have everyone running around with their pets. This is a dangerous place, and we can't have dozens of animals staying here. If I allow one person to have a pet, the others would want them too."

"Maybe Alpine can be the Team's cat? She already has a bond with Bucky but animals have so much love, they give it to anyone who loves them in return." You grasp Bucky's hand and give it a squeeze. "Besides, a cat has a mischievous side too, the more people who engage with her, the more fun she'd have. It'll help her stay out of trouble."

"You'd be willing to share her?" Tony asks Bucky hesitantly. 

"Of course, I hate having her cooped up in my bedroom, the more she can explore, the better. Besides, this cutie needs all the love she can get. Together we can show her that not all humans are bad."

"Fine, Barnes and Alpine can stay." Tony relents, making the others cheer in response. "But I'm cuddling with her in the living room first!" Tony calls out as he walks out of the room, mumbling to Alpine that he will buy her the best of everything, including a big climbing set as soon as her leg gets better. The rest of the team follows Tony, each adding to the list of what has to be bought for the best kitten in the world.

"So Bucky, you get to stay, after all." 

"Thanks to you, doll. What you said was amazing, I've never seen someone rip into Tony so easily." Unsure blue eyes meet yours. "Would you have left with me? If he hadn't changed his mind?"

"Yeah Bucky. I would have. What I said was the truth. I'd go anywhere with you." 

"You're so sure I'm worth it? That I'm good?"

"Bucky, you saved a helpless kitten. You did it because you cared, not because you wanted praise or attention. Hell, you tried to keep it a secret! Anyone who cares so much about animals that they are willing to walk out on what they know just to keep them safe can't be bad. It's impossible. You're the best Bucky. And now that Alpine has a whole family to look after her, I think it's the perfect time to go on that date you owe me."

"Of course, doll. Anything you want."

"Anything?" You smirk at him, wickedness in your eyes.

"Anything," he replies as he drops his head down, hands wrapping around your waist. Your arms circle his neck as you stand on your toes to meet him, kissing him like you've wanted to for months. And he's all too happy to reciprocate.

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[d6volution]

Corporeal

Caine/Fem!Reader

caine wants to learn more about humans, so why not become one himself? surely, these new waves of emotions and new desires won't become an issue.

tags: human!caine unresolved feelings, sexual tension, lingerie, making out, pining until the end, explicit sexual content, caine is pussy drunk.

minors dni.

Chapter Three.

previous chapter.

Well, he kept his word. You two did meet the next day, and the day after that. You told him whatever bits and pieces of your time as a human that you could remember. He seemed to listen.. but also seemed a little out of touch... like his mind was elsewhere. Whenever you brought it up, he simply put on his usual act.

"Oh, not to worry dear! I am beginning to understand a bit more about how.. caring humans can be, so if you're worried don't be! I am perfectly fine! In fact, better than ever. I have certainly learned a lot from you." He said, almost sounding impressed.

"I'm glad I could help, Caine." You couldn't help but smile at the praise he was giving you.

Your smile caused him to look away, those funny feelings returning.

"My, my look at the time!" He was glancing at his wrist, which was adorned by the wacky watch.

"Oh, already..?" You didn't realize just how fast time passed when you two were together, "Same time tomorrow then?" You said, hopeful.

"It would seem so," He studied your expression. "Hmm, I can't help but notice that you seem a little ..disappointed." He hope he correctly evaluated your emotions.

"No, I mean— a ... little." You wanted to deny this observation but he could see through you, so it would be no use.

"Worry not my dear! I'll always be around of course, though I've come to realize it is normal to miss people you spend a lot of time aro— mmf?!" Your hands yanked at his collar before he could try and put anymore distance between you, your lips meeting. He talked too much.

Couldn't he feel the tension that was growing between you two? It was palpable in the air. Maybe he just needed a little push.. your tongue even brushed against his closed lips.

You were nervous, but maybe, after getting closer to him.. it was easier, or maybe you were just desperate and simply losing your mind in this digital world.

Your lips were soft and inviting, the heat from your mouth was diving him crazy. He couldn't think.

Caine went stiff, he wanted badly to kiss you back. Squeeze your hips and pull your closer but .. he couldn't. Surely these feelings of yours were simply because you took a familiar form of a human.

They couldn't really be for him right?

His hands slowly lowering onto your shoulders and gripped them gently, pushing you away. "W.. Well, y/n what a very.. bold act of affection!" He was beet red now, almost like he was short circuiting. "U‐Unfortunately you're aware I cannot return these... feelings, yes? It would be.. dangerous."

You were at a lost of words, you acted without thinking and now he was looking at you with pity in his eyes, "I.. sorry, I don't know what I was thinking— .." You took a few steps back. But your lips were still tingling.

"N-No, need to apologize!" He tugged at his collar to let off some steam and without another word he wrapped an arm around your waist and within a blink of an eye you were both in front of your room door.

"There we are! Now go and rest your pretty little head, I.. will be back at a later hour to check on you, how's that sound?" It was an excuse. He wanted to see you again after this. Just.. to confirm a few things after you've settled down from these heightened emotions.

You nodded, still suffering from embarrassment of your feelings and advancements in general being denied. Yet you weren't completely unaware.. you could see it in his eye too, the stuttering and fidgeting it was as if he were holding himself back.

Maybe.. he just needed another little push.

"This.. this certainly isn't right, far from family friendly.. far from appropriate." He was pacing back and fourth inside of his "room." "I could risk abstracting if this gets too far! .. Well, maybe not. Iam the showrunner here.."

Bubble emerged from his hat unannounced, "This all apart of the human experience Caine! Why not give her all the love you're legally allowed to give..?"

POP.

That mischievous bubble certainly was not helping. The thought, even coming from bubbles silly mouth made his cheeks dust with a light pink. Everytime he thought about you in such a way he could feel a piece of his resolve breaking off.

He needed to end this, this experiment had provided him with plenty of knowledge but, if continued to play human it would only lead him into heaps of trouble that he was certain of. Before he changed back... he did promise to check in on you.

He arrived at your door, and hesitated to knock. Attempting to groom himself a little beforehand. He inhaled, then knocked.

"Caine..?" You called out from the other side of the door.

"Yes, that's me!"

"C.. Come in." Your voice was muffled by the door, but he heard you clearly and opened it up, stepping inside his eyes immediately got wide. He slammed the door behind him so no one else could see what he was seeing.

You lying in bed with silky fabric hardly covering your body, your skin on display. Your expression vulnerable, yet desperate. Caine felt like he was going to glitch out of existence.

"Y/N! You.. someone else could have seen you like this and it's hardly appropriate! You are aware this show is supposed to be for all ages." He said but his fists clenched and he could feel his pants getting tight.

Not good.

"Can't we forget about all that for one night Caine..? I've.. seen how you look at me.. even earlier, you wanted to kiss me back right?" Your voice was sultry as it was desperate, you crawled towards the end of the bed and the silky fabric was sliding off of your body.

He swallowed and rushed over, attempting to fix it. "W-Woah there!" You took this chance to cup his growing erection.

"Is this family friendly... Caine..?"

The feeling of your small hand caressing his straining dick was enough. It throbbed in his pants and he pushed you onto the bed. Straddling you, his breathing had grew heavy.

"It seems I've been caught red handed, I am supposed to be gentleman like my dear, " His eyes roamed along your half naked body.

"But, you are making it quite difficult. I suppose, as my human test bunny your are willing to take responsibility?" He sounded as desperate as you looked now.

"O.. Of course, Caine.." Your squirmed under his gaze, and he slowly pushed aside the silk lingerie that was comcealing your nipples. His erection was pressed against your thigh and he was unknowingly grinding against your soft skin.

"Just.. for today, I'll indulge in your i.. inappropriate behavior, dear y/n." He swallowed.

"Take them off Caine.." You mutteted and tugged at his the waistline of his pants.

"Oh, no no my dear. After all this trouble you caused I think you deserve a little punishment!" He said with a grin, his resolve was gone. Completely, whatever code was inside of him urging him to obey the rules was temporarily disabled.

"Now, as lovely as that silk looks on you would you mind taking it off?" His voice fell at the end of his sentence. He planned on having you completely in the nude while he stayed fully dressed.

You sat up and he scoots back on the bed, allowing you to stripped in front of him.

He couldn't help it, his dick was straining violently against his pants.. he removed himself from his pants, and started to stroke himself. "Do forgive me dear, I've always said you make my body act so strangely and this is no exception."

You stared at the heavy cock in between his thighs, you could feel the slick between your legs.

"Caine.." Your eyes finally met his, "Please touch me.."

"Well, if you ask so nicely how can I say no?" He grins and climbs atop you again, this time quickly closing the distance between you both and pressing his lips against yours. It was to make up for earlier.

Your body instinctively arched towards his, your hips shifting to feel his cock brush against your bare cunt. You were practically humping at his shaft like a dog in heat. He groaned into your mouth and returned the movement. Both of your sexes rubbed against each other as you made out, breathlessly moaning in between the kiss.

"Feels good.. more Caine.." You whined, your arms locked around his neck and holding him close to you. He smelled like the most expensive cologne mixed with his natrual musk. It was simply intoxicating.

He didn't say anything, his eyes swirling with lust as he lined up his tip with your slick entrance. After slipping a few times he finally plunged inside.

His mind went blank with pleasure and he hardly gave you time to adjust to his size, his hips began to move. "C.. Caine..! hh.. fuck..!" You cursed, and made a not that it wasn't censored.. maybe you really had broken the ringmaster. In one sense.

Your nails dug into his back and as he slammed into your tight cunt, balls slapping against your ass as he fucked you like his very life depended on it.

Your moans didn't go unoticed, your whimpers and whines only fueled his need to fuck you harder. Faster, the bed was rocking beneath you as he seemed to loose all sense of himself while buried inside of you.

He nudged at that spongey spot in your cunt and you saw stars, your back arched and toes curled. Caine was silently taking note of how tight you got all of the sudden.

"H.. How interesting.. it seems like I have much more to learn about you my dear, like how much you tighten around me when I.." He slammed against that spot again, and again. Over and over, til you were in tears.

"C.. Caine..please.. gonna c-cum.. !" You managed to sputter out, but he was way ahead of you. He planned on having you cum together.

"Nngh .. that's .. the plan darling.." He grunts and your body suddenly began to spasm, cunt convulsing and gripping his shaft vicely. His own hips sputtered to a stop as he spilled into you without thinking. The relief washing over his body as numbness washed over your own.

You stared at the ceiling coming down from your high. Caine thrusted a few more times, before pulling out.

"My, my.. what a cruel creator I must have to hide such pleasures from me.. are you alright, y/n? I didn't seem to be completely myself there." He pushed some hair from your face and you nodded grabbing his hand and nuzzling it.

His face was hot again, just as this little display of affection.

"I suppose being human for a little while longer couldn't hurt."

[astroariska]

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND ABOUT 8TH HOUSE" DICTIONARY THREAD

Astrology threads sometimes way too confusing. There are so many words that just come out there and make us wonder what we supposed to do then??? It made people think impractical to make astrology into your daily lifes because it's hard to be understood.

Have no fear. I am here to give you a mini thread about the 8th house.

Transformation : What the hell is this word? We never really use this world in our daily lives, isn't it? But really. Transformation is about realizing you need to ELIMINATE that shitty behaviour you didn't want to tell everybody that it's a part of you annd the reason why there is some drama in your life and REPLACE it with a better attitude.

Intimacy. It's not about getting that bombastic sex with your partner. It's about you realizing ... After all the shit and the shot you've been through ... All you need is that person and all you wish is that person to stay with you through thin and thick while wishing life could be better for you.

Power struggle : Simply the imbalance of the relationship that makes you feel you less than equal. Either it makes you feel you work it all or makes you feel you are so fucking useless. This imbalance, let your heart have the urge to solve it out while your heart cannot even simplify the problem within you two.

Inheritances : Doesn't always about money. Sometimes it's about debt. Sometimes it's about what the good, the bad and the ugly shit you share with your parental figure, caretaker or even another family member.

Rebirth : When you are realizing you are not the same anymore after shit happens. When you are realizing the current version of you is really way too different than the old version of you.

Power : Influence over someone, something or a cause that makes a really noticeable change in physical, material, phsycological, spiritual and mental of other people.

Bonus a mini thread about zodiac in 8th house.

Aries 8th house : You hate to acknowledge you are too offensive. But you do have a reason. Acknowledge it now and change the offensive feeling into more passionate attitude as a sign of leadership. Know the differences when you try to give support or just hate to see other being a competitor.

Taurus 8th house : You are way too rigid, slow, stubborn and sometimes ... a boring basic bitch that keeps repeating the same pattern in order to keep you same. It's okay. You've been through a lot. But maybe, you need to change the value that you hold because changing yourself is actually way easier than changing the world?

Gemini 8th house : The best advice to this placement is ... okay, sometimes it feels so good to process everything with your own logic. Math is mathing but you'll end up more anxiouse and less consistence than ever. Maybe it's because you're hard to gain focus but it's a signal you need more dynamic approach so your emotional life could be more interesting than just a typical sadness.

Cancer 8th house : Oh, do you hate feeling vulnerable? Do you think you're weak? What about realizing that your care and your need for nurture is the sign of you being a human being instead of feeling insecure about feel something inside you? Your feeling shows you that you are alive. OWN IT AS YOUR POWER and NOT YOUR FLAW.

Leo 8th house : You're tired of being strong and lead all the time, don't you? But please, just because you're trying to be strong for a long time then you justify all the drama you've punch in people's face. You just need to realizing that sometimes ... The rage is coming from your wounded little child in you that unhappy for the longest time. Remember that when you happy, you gain power.

Virgo 8th house : Oh, snap! You MADE A MISTAKE! Is it small? Is it big? You analyze it until you paralyzed yourself. But honey, mistake were made for you to learn by doing. Instead of punching yourself and hyper-analyze it inside your head, use your mistake to serve those who you love as a lesson that you need to share.

Libra 8th house : Sometimes, it's scary to be lonely but it's more haunting to be with the wrong people and trapped forever with them. But whatever the reason, don't you ever think that you have no right to get the partnership you really wish. You just need to understand that you don't need to please anybody to make them stay. Cheaters always cheat. Haters gonna hate.

Scorpio 8th house : You want to end this life because you feel you can't handle it anymore? But you didn't want everybody know that you're dying inside ... While you actually understand that the key of your life is to breath out your fear and insecurity.

Sagittarius 8th house : It's easier to run away, pack your bag, ghost everybody then pretends like you are the chillest person in the room instead to face how big the mess you need to tidy up. Sometimes is easier to tell people what to do rather to tell yourself what you need to do. When shit comes down, come into your higher self and find the meaning of it. Everything happen for a reason. It's happening not to you, but for you.

Capricorn 8th house : Numbing feeling and hardship makes you out of a breath. I swear, you need a mentor and become more diciplined in your way through because that's the only thing you could do to master this life. Every pain worth the gain.

Aquarius 8th house : If you're feeling like you're out of place, had nobody to stand with you or feeling alienated ... Maybe it's not because people suck. Maybe because your decision was made based how you quickly disengage and diconnected from people you love as you had 0 trust in them. Instead of feeling like you're the black sheep. Channel your brain competency into finding the right purpose, dream and community you're aspire to.

Pisces 8th house : Just because something ends, doesn't mean your life end. Remember. You're not rejected. You're redirected. You're in pain because life will challanges you to take a new path and plant new seed because it's a sign of a fresh start and brand new day. Put your rose colored glass now, it might over but it's doesn't end something. Connect to yourself. You'll found out soon.

[edenfenixblogs]

Hey, I came from your post about Night. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while now, but I’ve heard that the English version is very watered down and stripped of the original emotions that are in the Yiddish version. Do you know if there are any more accurate English translations, or if the Hebrew one is more like the original? Sorry if you’re not the right person to ask about this, you just seem quite knowledgeable

(also coming from my vent account so I don’t get any hate on main for being a Jew lol)

No worries at all, @nonbinary-vents:

I want to be clear about something: My post was aimed at goyim.

You are a Jewish person, and reading this book (especially if you haven't read any other accounts of experiences in concentration camps) may be an important thing for you to do. And I'd cautiously encourage you to do so if you feel emotionally stable. But you do not need to worry about the experience of this book feeling watered down.

If you are Jewish and not in a very stable emotional state, do not read this book. Do not cause yourself harm.

(If you are goyiscshe, you should challenge yourself and force yourself to read this book. Obviously if you are in an actual emotional/psychological crisis or dealing with the death or illness of a loved one, then you are the only goyim who has an excuse not to read this book. No matter who you are, do not read this book if it will cause you actual mental harm or drive you to somehow cause yourself physical harm. But if it will make you upset, depressed, panicked at your own failings, or other extremely unpleasant but ultimately human discomfort, then you should read this book. Jews don't get a choice about knowing this shit, because knowing this shit is how we survive. And you NOT knowing this shit is what makes it so easy for you to dismiss and target us over and over and over again. You should be uncomfortable. You should feel guilty. Because unless you're actively learning how to disentangle yourself from the antisemitism that led to The Holocaust, then you are actively participating in thee fomentation of another. And that should horrify you.)

Sure, I bet this book is even more haunting and visceral in the original Yiddish. I've spoken recently about how hard Jewish language is to translate to English.

But there is no world in which this book will feel watered down to you.

@nonbinary-vents This book will haunt you. This book will change you. This book will challenge your faith and your ability to trust people.

Remember going in that Judaism asks us not to separate ourselves from our community--not just our Jewish community, but any community in which we find ourselves. Resist the urge this book may stir within you to become insular and fearful of goyim. That is not our way. We are a part of the communities and cultures and nations in which we find ourselves. And we must do good for those communities, because that is what we are called to do. The lesson of this book for Jews is different than the lesson of this book for goyim.

The lesson of this book for Jews -- in fact, the lesson of "Never Again" for Jews -- is that we cannot ever allow this to happen to ourselves again. No, of course, I am not blaming Jews for the Holocaust and if anyone thinks that's what I'm arguing here, then they can fuck off.

The lesson of this book for Jews is that we must never again let fear hold us back from fighting for ourselves. If he world calls upon us to die, we must refuse. Refuse to put ourselves on a list. Refuse to follow our oppressors' directions to the ghetto. Refusal to get on the train or to enter the gas chamber. And we must refuse to be silent for other people's comfort. While it is a Jewish imperative to believe that every human being is capable of kindness and has inherent goodness within them, we can never again trust that the kindness and goodness they possess will ever be directed at us. There was the very understandable thought back when this all started that if we just complied--if we were just willing to suffer a little bit by moving to the ghettos or registering on the lists of Jews the Nazis demanded or carried our papers with us at all time and wore our stars just as they said --then they would eventually realize we were good citizens. They would eventually realize we were just people like them doing their best to live quiet lives and follow the rules. People believed that, if we just complied, they'd remember their humanity and our own. If we just complied and let ourselves suffer, hen maybe our friends and loved one would be safe.

But that was a lie we told ourselves.

No amount of compliance or agree-ability or self-sacrifice will ever make someone who sees Jews as evil and subhuman realize that Jews are actually just human beings like everyone else. Compliance will never ensure our safety; it will just make us easier to kill. Compliance won't make antisemites see us as human; it will only ever make them see us -- at best -- as agreeable livestock.

(although I doubt any farmer would treat their animals as cruelly as Nazis and their supporters treated us).

I am not advocating for violence. But I advocating for discomfort and defense. That is why I am on here every day writing the things I write. I will not shut up for the comfort of people who don't care about my life or my safety. And neither should you. Neither should any of us. I will not allow antisemites to co-opt our own tragedies to demonize us further while casting themselves as warriors for justice.

No, we should not take to the streets and start harming goyim. But if the day comes that they once again start to round us up, I for one will tear those Nazis a-fucking-part with my bare hands. And if they live to have children and grandchildren of their own, they will have to explain to their children and grandchildren that they got the scars on their face and the missing eyeball because the Jew they were trying to murder wouldn't submit quietly.

And if this seems like a hyperbolic and absurd hypothetical to anyone reading this? Well, yeah. It seemed like one back then, too.

(And if any goyim chose to read "Night" by Elie Wiesel because of my post, please tell me. Please engage. I cannot be emphatic enough about this. If you are willing to read night in the way I asked of you in my post, then please do reach out to me with your experience and thoughts. Because that's the whole point. Jews need you to listen and engage with us about our own suffering. We need you to consider your impact on us and to not run away from that guilt or from us. If any of you are willing to read this book in the way that I have asked of you, please please please don't keep your experience to yourself. A lot of Jews desperately need to see goysiche growth in understanding antisemitism and its affects. I don't think you can even imagine how scared and lonely we are right now)

[hey-kae]

Hi! I absolutely love your works✨✨ and I would like to ask you for an OS angst 😢 where Charles and reader end the relationship because of hate and comments on social media. I don't know whether to end with a happy or sad ending, that's your choice 🥰.

Hate and Love

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: the chaos that was japan, slight implication about Charles thinking of Jules’ accident, panic attack, talk of weight and body image, needs more proofreading.

a/n: i don’t think i’m that good with the whole hate trope as i struggle to write it without feeling like it’s turning out cringey, what explains how long this took me to write and i’m still not satisfied with it. But it’s yours to judge now ig…

When you've been swinging a hammer repeatedly over a frail sheet of glass, it's it going to shatter it. There is no way around that fact.

When you keep throwing insults at a human being, you're going to break them.

Whether these things are your intentions or not doesn't change the outcome.

Rarely do we ever see any exceptions for clear and particular reasons. Everything has a reaction or consequence that is to some degree, inescapable.

The crack in the glass made itself loud and clear on the weekend of the Japanese Grand Prix.

Excited about having some time off that would allow you to support Charles on the double header of Singapore and Japan and getting to see such beautiful and unique places, you had decided to accompany him on his two week trip, not wanting to waste any opportunity to spend highly valuable time with him.

The Singapore Grand Prix went okay and by the end of the weekend, the bags were packed and you headed to the airport with Charles.

On the lengthy flight, Charles fell asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, and it honestly didn't matter how long the two of you had been dating, long enough that you had a sparkling ring sitting on your finger, the sight of that and the feel of his soft brown hair tickling your neck and cheek quickly caused your heart to race. If anything, that was just another proof of how much this man meant to you, how much you devotedly loved him.

Wanting to secure the memory in your head and into existence, you fished your phone out of your bag without moving much so you wouldn't disturb him, and you quickly snapped a selfie that showed half your face, mainly focusing at the much cherished sight of your asleep fiance.

The picture was adorable. Charles looked so cozy and at peace.

You were smiling at your phone screen, debating whether or not you should share such a harmless picture with the world.

There lies the conflict.

If any of your social media accounts had been somewhat "normal", you would've posted it without any second thoughts like you'd done with previous boyfriends you had. Sharing occasional pictures of your relationship for your friends and family to see was something that should've felt natural, and it did feel like that in the past.

Then, Charles came along.

He was somewhat of a celebrity.

You knew that since the very first time you hung out with him. If anything, that was the only thing about him that made you reluctant about getting into a relationship with him. People's huge interest in him would inevitably transfer to his partner.

As you had expected, dating Charles reformed your understanding of social media. It was no longer a source of entertainment but a business place, a space for profit and advertising and never in your life have you wanted that to be the way you used social platforms.

Suddenly, everyone was so interested in your everyday life to the point where there was accounts literally dedicated to finding out where you bought each outfit from and while it was funny for a while, you were quick to realize that the whole influencer lifestyle was in no way your cup of tea.

It didn't help that anytime you shared anything that had merely any connection to Charles, your DMs flooded with message requests and your notifications got crowded with replies and comments. One night, out of sheer boredom while Charles snored beside you in bed, you went through some messages. From that point on, there was no return route, and it sure didn't help that the engagement shone a brighter light on your relationship and how serious it was, causing the hate to double.

While some of the messages were overwhelmingly sweet, some were also overwhelmingly cruel and inconsiderate.

You promised yourself that you wouldn't let these things affect you nor the beautiful and genuine connection you had with Charles, that you wouldn't even check the messages and comments again in the first place.

But as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

It turned into a repeated pattern, a compulsion you couldn't get rid of.

Therefore, you continued staring at the picture, you thumb hovering over the share button until Charles startled you.

"Tout va bien, bébé?" Everything's okay, baby?

You locked your phone and let it fall onto your lap before assuring him that everything was okay.

"Oui, cheri. Tout est bien." Yes, darling. Everything is okay. You smiled, wrapping one arm around him and allowing your head to rest on his, your eyes closing as you attempted to push out all the negative things and remarks, redirecting your focus onto the man by your side.

That position didn't hit the minute mark since Charles moved so he was sat a bit more upright and pulled you close to him so your head rested on his chest, his arm around your back while he looked down at you through half opened eyes.

"Tu sais bien que tu peux me dire n'importe quoi, n'est ce pas?" You know that you can tell me anything, right? He reassured, sensing that something about the way you were behaving was not quite right.

"Oui, je sais cela. I promise you, there's nothing worth mentioning." Yeah, i know that... You replied and tilted your head up to press a quick kiss onto his cheek.

With that, he let the subject go, ignoring the instinctive feeling in his chest telling him to make sure that everything was alright but he had no concrete proof that anything was going wrong so he forced himself to push the suspicions to the back of him mind.

That was supposed to be the end of that issue. You promised yourself to actually act normally and not allow stupid comments and remarks to taint your relationship with Charles.

It said a lot that you were engaged to Charles. You literally wanted to marry him, you saw your future with him and at this point, you couldn't really imagine a life without him by your side so you found it unreasonable and just plain idiotic to allow strangers who lived cities and countries away to interfere between him and you.

However, as the weekend processed and pictures of you with Charles popped up on the internet, that last thought seemed to be morphing. All you wanted was an escape, a break from the judgmental critics and the suspicious fans overanalyzing every move and post you made. With every passing hour, you were reminded why you rarely ever showed your relationship with Charles publicly and openly.

People knew you existed and they knew that you and Charles were engaged but when they aren't reminded of that, they tend to ease up a little bit on you. Therefore, it goes without saying that the opposite had been happening during those two weeks.

After qualifying, having watched the session from the pit box since Charles asked you to, you posted a quick shot of him as he was being photographed with Max and Carlos. You hadn't thought the post through, just supporting for your fiancé and wanting to share that openly. But as you laid sleepless in bed, the jet lag getting to you after Charles passed out of exhaustion, you realized that was a mistake.

Your DMs were flooded with messages, some positive and some negative but it seemed like you couldn't bring yourself to focus on the love you were getting, not when the opposing words were so cruel, hitting quite close to home.

People were going on and on about how you were like Charles' shadow. To them, it looked like you wouldn't let him breathe, that you followed him everywhere and limited his freedom.

Apparently, you were insecure about the relationship and you were essentially following him across the planet not to support him, but to supervise his actions, as if you would've agreed to marry a man you didn't trust.

Not only were they speculating about the relationship, the comments about your body were downright disturbing under some of the photos captured when you were spotted around the paddock. There were pictures of you eating and the comments under them were disgusting. Even the compliments were worded so crudely that it made your skin crawl as you read through them.

But what hurt the most is people saying you weren't enough, that you weren't worthy of dating someone like Charles, that you were forcing him to commit, that you were using him for fame when in reality, you hated every bit of unnecessary attention you got through dating him.

Everyone was preaching about the way he could do so much better, posting pictures of his exes and comparing your looks to theirs.

Looking through these messages and comments was overwhelming, even suffocating to a certain extent but for some reason, you couldn't put the phone down.

Does she have to always be there?!

Is it just me or is she gaining weight?

I wish Charles would wake up and see why she's really dating him

It's giving... attention seeker

ngl his ex was prettier and they were a cuter couple

The remarks went on and on and you lost yourself in the masses of words that night, forgetting where you were, forgetting that Charles was asleep right beside you, forgetting how much he loves you and how he always went out of his way to remind you of that. Your thoughts were hypnotized by strangers online and you couldn't think of anything else other than what you were reading, not even the words that made you cry when Charles had said them to you the night he went from being your boyfriend to being your fiancé.

You didn't even realize you were crying but the hot tears dropped onto your pajama pants when you sat up in a hurry, gasping for air.

You couldn't breathe properly, your lungs felt like they were collapsing, your hands were freezing and shaking out of control until the words on the screen of your phone and the pictures of Charles hugging you after qualifying turned into a streaky blur of colors that you couldn't even comprehend.

You needed a quick escape, some fresh air but you felt stranded, in a unfamiliar country where you had no idea about where you could go.

Suddenly, you were too aware of the sheets covering your body and even that felt too heavy to be bearable.

With wobbling legs, you pushed off the covers and stumbled onto your feet, even in this state making sure that Charles was still covered.

Nothing felt alright.

You felt like you were loosing it and instead of considering waking Charles up, you thanked god he was in deep slumber.

Tunnel vision took over, making the room darker and smaller than it already was. Your heart felt heavy in your chest. You could hear the rush of blood in your ears. Your body was tingling like if was going numb. Your throat felt dry and tight. Your tears were streaming out of control. You were was having chills all over as you broke out in a cold sweat. The loud noise from the street by the hotel felt so distant but somehow, the sound of Charles breathing was deafeningly loud.

You felt like you were loosing control.

With absolutely no clue of how you made it out of the bedroom, you burst through the balcony door, longing for a fresh breeze, the chilly night air feeling like it was waking up every nerve in your body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." you kept mumbling as you allowed yourself to fall into the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you finally broke into sobs instead of the panicked, silent cries.

You were never confident growing up, always the calm sister, the shy cousin but really, you were insecure. For years, you worked on yourself until you finally got yourself to participate in social settings, to meet new people. Hell, it took years until you stopped reaching for a pillow to put in your lap every time you sat down, until you could walk in public without crossing your arms in front of you, until you found it in yourself to wear anything you wanted, until you could laugh without covering your mouth.

Therefore, it was undeniable that when you were met with such remarks, every past wound was reopened, and to be fair, the energy it took for you to build yourself into a confident woman was one you didn't have at the moment. You couldn't afford to go down that rabbit hole again. Once in your life was already too much.

You looked out onto the bright city lights, one striking thought now torturing your mind.

Charles.

Charles in your life meant curious eyes and endless criticism. There is no way around that unless he hid you from the world for evermore, and you weren't naïve enough to believe that would be possible, not if you wanted to marry him proudly and have your own little family with him.

That's when your heart broke and the sobs got ten times worse while your opposite hand wrapped around the diamond ring on your finger.

The man asleep a few feet away from you was everything you'd ever wished for.

He was the prince charming that you dreamt of finding back when you were a toddler watching princess movies, beaming over happy endings and escaping on a white horse. Charles was the one who satisfied that little girl's dreams during adult days that felt endless and hopeless and so painfully dull.

Middle school you who described the man she'd marry years down the road in excessive details in her diary would be in disbelief to see Charles exceeding all the impossibly high expectations she set, even after she ditched them when she was forced to face the real world.

He was perfect and you loved him beyond words, more than you ever thought was possible and you were just so ready to have it that way until forever and a day, until you grew old with his hand in yours.

Countless times, you imagined your wedding, the days after it, the look on Charles' face. You imagined having kids with him, watching him become a father and being the amazing dad you knew for sure he would be, holding the children you'd have and teaching them how to do anything and everything, maybe even how to race. Every detail that you were so sure would become true at some point had passed through your mind so many times, sending your kids to school, watching them grow up with the love of your life right by your side for it all, sharing every moment, milestone and event with Charles, happy or sad.

You wanted everything with him, the good and the bad.

But then, the image of the teenager you once were, stood timidly in front of the mirror, hating what she saw took over. You remembered when you didn't have the confidence to even present a project in school, when every little critic tore you apart and broke you to pieces.

The future was pushed right out of your mind as you let the past take over, dread washing over you like frozen water as you realized just how easily this situation you were in could drive you back to your old ways.

As the memory of crying your nights away and fearing the days came resurfaced, the face of younger you, so hopeful and full of life flashed in your mind and that was when you realized you couldn't fail her, no matter how flawless your relationship with Charles was, it was still breaking you.

As you came to the realization, the cries became too loud and even from your spot on the balcony, you were afraid to wake Charles up. You clasped your hand over your mouth, muffling the sobs and gasps, your eyes screwing shut as you struggled to catch your breath, the tears falling out of your eyes heavy and uncontrollable.

You couldn't afford waking him up right now, facing his gentle looks and caring words but No matter how quiet you attempted to be, it didn't work.

"Cherie," Charles' worried toned startled you, making you fumble to wipe away the tears, "what is happening?" He asked, crouching down in front of you immediately.

His hair was ruffled and messy. He was barefoot and was messily but warmly dressed for bed. His eyes were hazy with sleep and barely opened while his hands grabbed yours to pull them away from your face.

He was a bit too caring and it made everything hurt so much more.

Through your burning eyes and clouded vision, you glanced up at him adoringly while your heart shattered into a million tiny shards.

"I love you so much, Charlie." You sobbed, reaching over and hugging him as tight as you could.

Instantly, his hands were rubbing up and down your back, trying so desperately to comfort you, but he had no clue what was going on and he was too sleepy not to be confused.

"I love you so much as well." He kissed the top of your head, "mais tu veux me dire qu'est-ce qui se passe, mon amour?" but you wanna tell me what’s happening? He asked with the softest voice, taking advantage of the way your arms were wrapped around his neck to slip his hands under you and carry you back inside to the comfortable bed where he could hold you properly.

Once he had you wrapped in a cozy hug on the mattress, he got you to look at him and his heart plummeted at the sight of your swollen eyes.

"Oh, baby." He cooed, wiping the last of your tears off your cheeks with his thumbs, "What happened?"

You felt like you could crumble under his worried looks, immensely dreading tomorrow as your eyes looked with his.

"I don't know." You attempted to push out a chuckle but Charles knew you too much.

He got you to lay your head on his chest and began brushing his fingers through your hair, thinking about what could be the reason you were crying that hard.

"Honnêtement? Je n'te crois pas. You were crying so hard, bébé..." Honestly? I don’t believe you. You were crying so hard, baby…

The heavy concern lacing his still hoarse voice was too much and you could've lied to him, came up with an excuse for the breakdown you had but you couldn't do that, not to someone you loved so much.

"I just - i don't know, cheri. Je n'veux pas en parler maintenant." I don’t want to talk about it right now. You felt Charles nod. He knew he couldn't force you to talk about something you didn't want to discuss but he wasn't gonna be at ease, not knowing why you were so upset, not able to help you through it.

"D'accord..." Okay. he said, closing his tired eyes, "Demain après la course donc?" Tomorrow after the race then?

"Ouais. Demain." Your heart ached at that. Yeah, tomorrow.

With that last promise to discuss the issue tomorrow, Charles allowed himself to relax for now, hugging you close but making sure he wouldn't be falling asleep before you.

Meanwhile your mind raced with thoughts of your plans. You couldn't help but fear that Charles would think you don't love him anymore after he would find out what you did.

"Charles..." you waited for him to look at you, "Tu sais bien que je ne mens jamais quand je te dis que je t'aimerais jusqu'à mon dernier souffle, n'est-ce pas? Promets-moi de ne jamais oublier cela” You know that i will love you until my last breath, right? Promise me to never forget that.

"Alright, baby... I don't like the sound of that. Why are you saying it like this?" He lifted his head off the pillow to look at you, his hand stilling in your hair as he tried understanding what you meant by that, especially when you were crying minutes ago, when your body was still shaking against his.

"Please tell me what's going on." He asked again, the worry and dread in his chest increasing with every word you said.

"There's really nothing going on. I just want to remind you of how much i love you." You said with a sniffle, your eyes clouding again with tears that were threatening to spill again.

"I really don't believe you, not when i'm not understanding anything at all." He sat up a bit, unable to shake the uneasy feeling he had now.

"Charles, please. On a dit qu'on en  parlera plus tard et tu dois vraiment dormir car il est deja très tard et tu dois te réveiller tôt demain matin. S'il te plait, laisse ça tomber au moment." We said we’ll talk about it later and you really need to sleep because it’s already so late and you have to wake up early tomorrow. Please, let it go right now.

Sighing, he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off, clearly not happy about this situation and making that clear to you by turning the other way and pulling the sheets right up to his neck.

You couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek at that, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Charlie, please don't be upset. Je t'aime." I love you. You rolled onto your side, facing his back, hiding your face against it and hugging his waist as the tears started falling again.

“Bonne nuit.” Good night. He mumbled as a reply but you never let go of him, no matter how many minutes had passed.

You listened to the sound you were most grateful for, the soft thud of his heartbeat, letting it cut you deeper and harder because you were so hell bent on the fact that you deserved this pain, and once you thought he had went back to sleep, you allowed the quiet sobs and sniffles out, holding on tighter to the man you loved so deeply.

But Charles was everything but asleep. He felt your arms tighten around his waist, felt your hands clutching onto him for dear life. He heard you crying and laid there for a while, going over the past day in his head a hundred different times, desperately trying to understand what had unworldly upset you and crushed you this bad until his heart started feeling heavy with every sob that met his ears and at that point, he no longer felt like insisting on finding out what had happened. He just wanted to comfort you.

He sighed heavily and turned to face you, immediately bringing you to hide in his chest and between his sheltering arms, his hand on the back of your head securing you into this position that he knew you found so comforting.

The gesture only made you cry harder, this time the sounds muffled by having Charles so close.

"Shh, bébé." He kissed the top of your head while his heart felt like it was being torn apart, "I've got you, mon amour. Calm down."

That night you fell asleep for one singular reason and that way your eyes burning beyond comprehension, forcing you into slumber. Once your tensed body relaxed in Charles hold, he realized that you just exhausted yourself into sleep and that fact alone brought him so close to crying himself. However, he wasn't an idiot. He was well aware he shouldn't be staying up any longer, that he couldn't risk not being able to drive at a 100% in the conditions expected for the race, so he allowed his eyes to fall shut while making sure he had you held as close as possible.

__

When you woke up next morning, you were alone in bed and as soon as you checked your phone for the Japanese time, you realized why. The race was starting in less than two hours and you were still asleep.

With a worrying scowl on your face, you got up and headed for the bathroom, still trying to make sense of why Charles hadn't woken you up earlier. In the mirror over the sink, there was an unpleasant reminder of yesterday night: swollen under-eyes as your reflection's most prominent feature and even you couldn't help but to stare as you brushed your teeth.

Once done with that, you went back into the bedroom and found a note taped onto the closet door.

I didn't have the heart to wake you up cause you looked so tired but there is a key to a rental by your purse if you still want to go to the race. (I texted you a picture of which car it is.)

Je t'aime fort.

Without a second thought, you pulled on a pair of loose jeans, a cozy sweatshirt that belonged to charles and some shoes, grabbed an additional jacket, your purse and pass along with the keys Charles left you, applied some makeup to hide your swollen eyes and headed for the track, knowing that you weren't selfish enough to not even show your face at such an emotionally charged race for Charles.

It was pouring as you drove to the circuit so you put on your jacket, pulled the hood on and made a run for Charles' garage, hoping you'll catch him before he has to line up on the grid and you did but just barely.

As soon as he saw you coming up to him, his face brightened and he smiled. However, his eyes scanned over you as if to make sure you were alright.

"Good luck!" You attempted an enthusiastic tone after he had greeted you with a quick peck.

"Thank you. Tout vas mieux aujourd'hui?" Is everything going better today?

You nodded and dodged any further questions until he was luckily called over to the car and just like that, he was out of the garage, waving at you as he slipped into the cockpit and moved out into the pit lane.

You slacked in a chair then, feeling so guilty for even having the thought of leaving him, so guilty for putting yourself first. All you could think of was how you never in your life bothered prioritizing yourself and why did you have to start doing that now? When it came down to Charles and your relationship with him? But then another voice that seemed to come from a totally different side of your brain would remind you that it was either losing Charles or losing yourself again and forcing yourself into endless years of repairs and reconstruction.

Needless to say, by the start of the formation lap, your felt like you were loosing your mind as one thought contradicted the other, the scary conditions of the track adding another element to go crazy over with worry and before you knew it, chaos ensued and the race was red flagged when Carlos crashed and the recovery vehicle was employed while the cars were still on track and if you knew anything, it was that it would be disturbing for Charles to see that, especially when it was one of his friends, Pierre who was in the most danger.

You stayed in your chair as the cars made their way back in and watched Charles talking to the pit wall crew across from the garage where you were. He looked so visibly shaken up and you couldn't look at him and his tense posture for longer than that without backing out on your plan.

You turned away, grabbed your phone and booked a plane ticket home so there was no way out of this. However, that only increased the guilt you were feeling as Charles finished talking to Laurent and made his way to you, instantly giving you a kiss before reaching for his red Ferrari coat and shrugging it on to warm himself up.

If he didn't look visibly upset and worried and if you didn't feel like you were betraying him, you would've been obsessing over how adorable he looked with his hands tucked deep into his pockets as he took a seat by your side.

Suddenly, for the first time in years, you were fumbling for words around Charles but you saw him in staring into the distance before he heavily sighed and dropped his head back.

Everything was so close to collapsing, both on your side and his. Maybe you could rethink your decision.

"Bébé..." you turned sideways in your chair and faced him, "are you okay?" You asked and grabbed his hand in both yours.

"Yes, don't worry. Are you feeling better today?"

Only Charles would be more concerned about you when just minutes ago, his life and the life of multiple of his friends were literally on the line.

"Charles..."

"Please, they're already going to make me talk about everything in the media pen and i really don't want to do it twice." He rubbed his eyes angrily as he spoke, moving his hand between yours to intertwine your fingers.

Maybe you shouldn't leave. Not today at least.

You nodded and sat by his side in silence, watching your hands in your lap, his fingers toying with the ring on yours in a way you would've presumed absentminded but Charles found it incredibly comforting.

Eventually, after texting with the other drivers for a long time, all of them furious about the truck incident, he moved his chair closer and rested his head on your shoulder, allowing the two of you to chat quietly about almost anything that didn't involve racing: the food from the restaurant you went to in Tokyo, the old couple you saw yesterday when you went for a walk in the early morning, the wallpaper on your phone, paddock gossip... Anything to distract him for the current situation and the catastrophe that was this Grand Prix since you had a relatively clear idea of what he would be thinking at the moment.

"Cute hoodie, by the way." He smiled half-heartedly.

"It's cold and i don't have anything warm enough with me." You were quick to defend.

"I didn't say i mind it. Au contraire, je l'adore quand tu t'habille de mes vêtements." On the contrary, i adore it when you wear my clothes.

You couldn't even believe you were still considering leaving just a few minutes ago. How could you ever let go of this?

"Okay, okay. Don't get all cheesy now." You blushed, holding onto his hand tighter while you attempted to get a clear view of him.

He let out a small chuckle and brought your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss onto your knuckles.

"Merci." He smiled, "I know what you're doing and I'm so grateful."

You struggled to reply because of course he'd figure this out, so you settled for something simple, "Je t'aime, Charlie." You said and kissed his forehead mindlessly.

And it was like the universe hated you because right that instant, a big camera was directed right at you and Charles, capturing the moment at the perfect time and probably showing it on live TV.

It would be an understatement to say you immediately feared the outcome because you knew that a lot of people would find some ulterior motive other than comforting your stressed fiancé behind the gesture.

You still tried hard to act unfazed like Charles was but you remained highly uncomfortable until the lens moved in the other direction, filming the pit wall.

Somehow, through the seemingly endless red flag, you managed to forget that ever happened until Charles fixed up his suit and retrieved his helmet ages later, returning to his car as they announced the resumption of the session in ten minutes.

"Good luck once again." You smiled at him and watched him head out, back into the car and onto the track.

When Charles disappeared out of sight, you grabbed your phone and found endless notifications on the screen, reminding you of being filmed.

You couldn't help the heavy dread in your chest as you unlocked the device and clicked on the twitter icon.

You knew you couldn't allow yourself to have a breakdown in the middle of the garage with so many people who were well aware who you were surrounding you but you couldn't resist clicking on the notifications tab, gulping as you started reading through them.

It was the usual: the comments like "oh my god, they're adorable" and "at least she's there to comfort him" versus the opposing ones like "she's doing anything to appear on the stream", as if a kiss on the forehead was such an eccentric things to go.

Line after line, you read them and allowed them to build up in your mind until your breathing became irregular like yesterday.

You made a run for it.

You grabbed your things in a hurry, still trying not to attract unnecessary attention and hurried to the car.

You couldn't do this. You wouldn't survive staying in the spotlight that came with dating one of the most famous f1 drivers currently. You wouldn't make it out alive if you stayed with Charles and even though you felt so selfish as you turned the car on, you kept telling yourself that if there was any reasonable time to be selfish, it was now.

The drive back to the hotel passed in a teary, breathless haze as your mind carried your body on autopilot.

Before you could even register that you arrived to the room, you were packing up your bag and frantically searching the room for any pen and paper until you found one with the name of the hotel plastered all over it.

You only realized you were crying when the tear splattered onto the paper, distorting the ink as you shakily wrote.

Charlie, je suis infiniment désolée mais je ne peux plus faire ça. Ce mode de vie est quelque chose dont je ne pourrai jamais supporter.

Prends toujours soin de toi-même. I am so sorry.

Charlie, I'm very sorry but I can't do that anymore. This way of life is something I will never be able to bear.

Always take care of yourself. I am so sorry.

It felt like you were ripping away a part of you when your fingers wrapped around the engagement ring and you began sliding it off. It was physically painful to let go of everything so quickly but it felt like there was no escaping this.

Your eyes forcefully shut and sobs shook your body once the ring was in the palm of your hand instead of on your finger. You looked down at it, the diamond glistening brighter through your blurry, teary gaze. With your breath caught in your throat, you let it fall onto the paper on the nightstand then you were struggling to inhale at all, but you managed to call a taxi and rush down to the lobby with your suitcase and a heavy heart that was burdening you, avoiding at all costs allowing your mind to imagine how Charles would react to your unexplained and unexpected absence, let alone the break up in form of a paper with tear-streaked ink scarring it.

You just flew to your home country, not even to the apartment you shared with Charles in Monaco, leaving everything behind.

—

Such a short race shouldn't have felt so long but it seemed never ending as the gap to P1 grew with every lap, the tyres working completely against all the effort Charles was putting in.

Before he even knew it, the Redbull behind him was threateningly close and he was cussing out the whole world. He defended his position with everything he got, the only thing on his mind is finishing the race and falling into the comfort of his fiancée's arms but with all the stress that weighed down on his shoulders, the pressure of such defense caused him to exit the track and he knew he'd have to face complications because of that.

Getting dropped from P2 to P3 by a 5 seconds penalty felt like being dropped from P1 to P20, especially after all the effort he put in on track to keep the position but he took it without complaints and walked into the cool down room, already feeling like he was ready to collapse in bed.

He felt heavy and exhausted. He just wished he could skip the podium celebration and the interviews and just go find you but he knew that was impossible so he straightened up and put the brave, undefeated face back on.

On podium, his eyes scanned the crowd many times, trying so desperately to find the face that brought him comfort but to no avail. His shoulders slacked a bit lower as he realized you weren't watching the celebration and he was already making excuses for you as the national anthems played.

Eventually, he was handed a trophy and even though it was rather small, lifting it above his head took so much effort. He was so done with everything and just wanted to escape to you and hug you so tight. No one was ever able to cheer him up like you did and he was so grateful for that, for you and for the fact that he would be calling you his wife someday.

Forcing himself to stay aware of where he was for a few more minutes, he popped the bottle of champagne open and sprayed Max, congratulated him on the championship and eagerly got the hell out.

He rejoined his team, immediately asking about you but no where had a single idea where you were. Then, he was dragged out into the media pen where he rushed through all the questions, eventually resuming the search for you as soon as he was free to go. He checked both Ferrari garages, the team hospitality and finally his motorhome but you were nowhere to be found.

He started worrying, the state you were in yesterday adding to the situation.

He changed out of the suit, put on a jacket, grabbed his things and got going, his phone ringing against his ear as he attempted calling you while he was searching for Pierre to quickly check up on him before leaving. The phone kept ringing until he was met with beeping followed by your voicemail.

"Where are you, chérie? You're worrying me." He said and stuffed his phone in his pocket as he caught sight of his french friend.

—

Half an hour later, Charles was in the elevator in the hotel, going up to the floor the two of you were staying at, his heart beating fast with pure worry since he already called you many times on his way back and not once did you pick up.

He dragged himself through the hallway and unlocked the door in a hurry, immediately calling your name once he stepped into the suite.

Once, twice, three times... Nothing. Not a single sound in the room.

He walked further inside, expecting to see you overtaken by sleep on the bed but it was neatly made and the room looked clean and spotless.

That's when he panicked.

The room looked too clean.

The vanity facing the bed had absolutely nothing on it. Just this morning, it had your bag, your makeup remover, your jewelry box and a bottle of your perfume. It was completely clear now, and it could've been that you just put these things away but your suitcase had also been sitting on the floor next to it along with the spare pair of shoes you brought with you and those were gone too. Even your phone's charger was gone from the outlet above your nightstand.

The words you had said to him yesterday resurfaced in his mind, the fact that you were asking him to promise you he'd never forget you love him now seemingly bone-chilling.

What was going on? He kept asking himself because there was no way what he was assuming would be true.

He turned on his heels and began searching the other part of the suite, from the kitchenette to the small balcony to the bathroom, even checking behind the frosted glass of the shower.

Nothing. You weren't there and nor were your things.

"Non. Non, ça peut pas être." No. No, it can't be. He started mumbling to himself as he rushed around the rooms, retrieving his phone and calling you in a hurry now, as if that would make you pick up.

"Tu peux pas me faire ça. Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Où est tu? S'il te plais, répond au téléphone." You can't do that to me. What’s going on? Where are you? Please answer the phone. He said into your voicemail and tossed his phone onto the couch, heading back to the bedroom.

Maybe he was misinterpreting this. Maybe you just put your suitcase in the closet provided. Maybe you put your things in drawers. Maybe you left the race because you were tired.

So many maybes and what ifs clouded his thoughts as he pulled the closet opened, only to be deceived but the dull and blank wooden shelves.

"Putain." Fuck. He cursed and moved onto the drawers, not even closing the closet doors.

One after one, he yanked them open and every single drawer was empty, even the ones of the nightstand on the side where you'd been sleeping, leaving him with only the one on his side of the bed.

He rolled on the mattress in a hurry but froze in his sitting position as his eyes met a sight he never wanted to see, a sight he never thought he'd see.

It felt like he forgot how to breathe, like his heart was irregularly beating, skipping beats left and right as his eyes widened so much, they started burning.

"Non..." he shocked, gulping as he tried to make sense and of everything, "Why? What the fuck? Why?" He bolted to his feet, pacing by the bed with his hand against his mouth in pure shock. His mind was a mess of thoughts and feelings and words but most importantly questions.

He thought things between the two of you were as perfect as they could get so why was he staring at your ring sitting abandoned on the nightstand? He couldn't make sense of it. He kept asking himself why.

His heart shattered because it finally made sense how you were speaking to him yesterday night. You had planned this and still went to the race, sat by his side and comforted him when all he could think of was the potential tragedy that was the first few laps.

Nothing made sense. If you love him as much as you said yesterday, why did you leave him? Why did you bother with the grand prix? Why did you wear his sweatshirt?

Charles eventually froze in his spot but he could see a paper under the shiny band and he wanted to grab it. However, it felt like his arms had went limp and he suddenly couldn't move, his eyes still scarily widened, still trying so hard to wrap his head around what has happened today.

He was just so eager to come back to you after such a stressful race, after it became official that he lost the championship. He needed you right now that if felt like the world was closing in on him, but he came back to this, to a breakup through a paper, not even face to face.

Cursing again, he grabbed the paper and the ring and read the streaked ink scribbled clearly in a hurry.

A hundred times, he read and reread the words, until his tears joined the marks of yours on the paper, and not once did they sink in.

You gave up on the relationship that easily? He couldn't bear the mere thought of you leaving him and now he had to face that as his reality? Without any clear explanation or a proper end and all because of the lifestyle that came with dating him? How were you planning to marry him if that was the case?

He fell back onto the mattress, his hands over his face as he tried so hard not to break after such a bad day but the tears defied him and streamed down the sides of his face in a rush.

It felt like a mockery that when he received the penalty, he thought the weekend had no way of getting worse. He had the comfort of knowing he had you by his side and with the endless support you always provided, he knew he could overcome anything but now he feels powerless, broken and defeated and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

He just needed one of your hugs right now. He just needed for this to be a nightmare.

Just a few hours ago, he was twisting the ring around your finger and now it sat painfully cold in its loneliness in the palm of his hand.

He felt like tossing it out if the window but his heart couldn't take anymore hits today so he clutched it tighter and gave up on trying to push his emotions aside. He let them rule over him.

He loved you too much to be able to pull himself through this and come out unscathed.

This felt like the end of everything. He lost everything in a day and he didn't have to energy to face that just yet.

He laid alone on that bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, waiting for the shock to subside and for heartbreak to set in and when it did, every last breath was knocked right out of his body and he was left curled around a pillow, holding it so tight and crying into it, occasionally trying to call you again and again but not once did you answer and it enraged him.

He tossed the phone off the bed onto the floor with a frustrated scream that felt like it was cutting through his lungs.

Following that, he allowed himself to completely fall apart as it sank in that you really left him.

Charles felt utterly defeated and hopeless.

—

To say you were no longer used to waking up in your childhood home would be a major understatement, especially since you could barely open your swollen, burning eyes in the morning to see the room clearly, leaving you panicked because you weren't at the place you call home and very far from the person that felt like it.

However, the familiarity of the place was as welcoming as ever, definitely something you needed at the moment.

When you showed up home yesterday, everyone was worried but as they watched you drag the suitcase in with bare hands, the object tying you to Charles missing from your finger, they caught up quick enough not to ask any questions.

They let you sleep it off in your old bedroom but really, you were crying most of the time, questioning if you made the right decision.

Charles called you so many times and left so many voicemails but you were determined to stay off your phone, so you let it's battery drain until it powered off at night and you decided not to charge it as not to risk it.

Your heart ached all night long since the only thing you could think of was Charles returning to the vacant hotel room and discovering that you left without him, and as your woke up this morning and found yourself reaching for him in your half conscious state, what had remained whole from you completely shattered because he obviously wasn't there and you had made that choice for the both of you and he probably was clueless why you did it.

The smell of him was still engulfing you though, making you realize hours too late that you had taken off dressed in his sweatshirt still and you couldn't really tell if the fact that you were still wearing it was good or bad. You really couldn't bring yourself to care.

Once the morning light became too strong, you forced yourself to get out of the bed. However, on the first attempt, you only managed to sit up enough to scan the room. Your head was throbbing and your throat was sore and dry and you could barely see anything through your blurry vision.

You rubbed your eyes furiously and got up. Outside your door, you could hear your family moving about in the house and talking, the clatter of plates and utensils implying that they were probably having breakfast.

You felt guilty that you barely great them yesterday but you still couldn't bring yourself to go out and talk to anyone so grabbed some of your old towels from a drawer, your shower products from your suitcase and headed for the bathroom.

You avoided your reflection at all costs. You didn't want to face any of yesterday's various aftermaths. Instead, you stepped under the hot stream, immediately felt your shoulders drop as your head fall back, the hot water relaxing your tense muscles.

Then, the tears made a comeback and you welcome them with open arms, letting them stay as you washed your hair and body until you turned the shower off and padded back to your room.

Pulling open your closet, you were met with the memories of the last time you had stocked it. You and Charles and his family spent last Christmas with your parents. The two of you had been newly engaged and everyone was still gushing over that.

As the memories of that trip resurfaced, your eyes met the sight of a certain pile of clothes that didn't belong to you. That's when you remembered that Charles had felt a few items of clothing here, a change for hot weather and one for cold days, because he was so damn sure he'd come back to your childhood home at some point and so were you.

With your lips pursed, you betrayed your heart and grabbed his sweater instead of your own clothes and put it on along with some shorts.

Tensely, you fell back onto the messy bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling lost and withdrawn. You had nothing to do, nowhere to be , nothing to distract you and the only thing you could think off was Charles.

You just wanted to know if he was alright, if he finished the race safely at least, but you didn't want to face the fact that you hurt him without giving him any explanation, that you walked out on him during one of the heaviest races of the season. You didn't want to consider the possibility that he now understood why you kept reminding him that you love him and that he might find it confusing now since common logic was that you don't leave someone you love.

As the thoughts ate away at your heart, you impulsively jumped up and grabbed your phone to charge it. You had to make sure he crossed the finish line safely at least and you wouldn't have to give in and contact him for you to know that.

The few minutes that it takes for the phone to power on felt like ages and when it finally did, over 50 missed calls from Charles flooded in along with so many texts and voicemails.

That meant that he was well, health wise at least. However, the last missed call was hours ago.

Your finger hovered over the voicemail icon and you were so tempted to just click it, desperate to hear his voice since you weren't used to starting your day without talking to him.

You gave in.

The first one started by him just asking where you were and judging by the noise around him, it was clear that he was still at the paddock.

But as one recording ended and another played, his tone progressively changed and several of his words broke your heart.

"Tu peux pas me faire ça..." You can’t do this to me… is what you heard in the second voicemail and the last one in which he didn't sound like he was crying. After that, it was just heartache.

"Tu peux me dire pourquoi, au moins? Je ne comprends rien." Can you tell me why, at least? I don’t understand anything.

"Where did you go? Tu m'inquiète au point de la folie." I’m going crazy from the worry.

"Fuck. Fuck, just..." you heard a sniffle, "... please, je te supplie, come back. Please."

These sentences amidst rambling and incoherent french stuck with you, making you wish you never charged your phone again or that you never left, but even after hearing that, nothing could've prepared you for the last recording.

"I'm kind of loosing hope now that you will answer," he sighed, "i just needed you here today, and always, but today more than usual. The race was shit but somehow i don't give a fuck. Why?" There was a laugh of irony and a pause before he continued, "Because the person i wanted to marry just left me. Really, bébé? Quand même une petite explication à ce qui s'est passé! Un adieu! Même ça, je ne le mérite plus?" At least a little explanation for what happened! A goodbye! Even that, I don't deserve it anymore? He was crying and now, so were you.

"It doesn't feel nice, being dumped with a letter and not even knowing why et maintenant, je sais plus how to live without you à mes côtés. Pourquoi t'as fais ça? How am i supposed to continue believing que tu m'aime? Tu m'as détruit complètement, chérie. J'ai tout perdu today."

It doesn't feel nice, being dumped with a letter and not even knowing why and now, I don't know how to live without you by my side. Why did you do that? How am I supposed to continue believing that you love me? You destroyed me completely, darling. I lost everything today.

Heavy breathing took over for a few seconds and you could tell he had been trying not to make it too obvious that he was crying.

Your hand clasped over your mouth to muffle the sobs as you waited for Charles to continue, "Je voulais t’épouser. I was gonna tell you that we should start preparing for the wedding so we can get married in winter break mais il me semble que tu n'veux plus rien a faire avec moi et je n'ai aucune idée pourquoi. The lifestyle isn't something new et si tu était autant gêné depuis le début, you shouldn't have said yes when i proposed. Fuck, you really shouldn't have given me de l'espoir that i will get to call you my wife un jour, que je pourras passer le reste de ma vie avec toi, have our own children et notre propre famille à nous. Putain, tu n'aura jamais dû me laisser tomber si amoureux de toi if you knew you would leave at some point."

I wanted to marry you. I was gonna tell you that we should start preparing for the wedding so we can get married in winter break but it seems to me that you don't want anything to do with me anymore and I have no idea why. The lifestyle isn't something new and if you were so annoyed from it from the beginning, you shouldn't have said yes when I proposed. Fuck, you really shouldn't have given me hope that I will get to call you my wife one day, that I would get to spend the rest of my life with you, have our own children and our own family. Fuck, you should never have let me fall so in love with you if you knew you would leave at some point.

There was a long break after that and you could hear the sniffles and the rustling of sheets. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking in these silent seconds.

"Je dois me taire, non? By the way, Max was announced champion, si t'en soucies même plus. I have to shut up, right? By the way, Max was announced champion, if you even care anymore. And... I love you still, a lot." He gasped the words out between sharp inhales and it made you want to go back to him just to hug him tight.

"Je sais plus si te veux que je t'aime ou non but that will never change the fact that i would die for you, même si tu pense that i don't even deserve a face to face break up. Je t'aime, even if i don't understand shit."

I don't know if you want me to love you or not but that will never change the fact that I would die for you, even if you think that I don't even deserve a face to face break up. I love you, even if I don't understand shit.

You locked your phone and tossed it aside, grabbing a pillow and holding it against your face, trying to muffle the crying.

You could've told him the reason this was happening but, knowing Charles, he would blame himself for everything. This, this was bad but he didn't have to feel guilty in this scenario. You were withholding all the guilt and you'd be happy bearing it forever if that meant Charles wouldn't be tinged by it.

No matter how bad this was, he would manage to get over it, even if after a while but you knew him and you knew he wouldn't cope well with knowing that he was the reason you fell back into the depths of your past insecurities.

A knock on your door interrupted your crying. You tossed the pillow away and wiped your eyes rapidly with the sweater's sleeves before saying "Come in."

You knew you couldn't avoid your family anymore. They were probably really concerned.

Your older brother peeked his head through the door with a cautious smile on his face.

"Hi." He started, taking just one step into the room and closing the door after him.

"Hey." You tried smiling back but teared up again at the attempt.

"Look, i'm not gonna be nosey." He said before he took a seat on the edge of the bed, "I just need to know if i need to kick some ass or anything. I don't really care that he's Leclerc in this case." He tried to joke.

"Please, if there’s any need to kick his ass i would've done it myself. I don't need any men to do it for me."

Your brother smiled at that, having expected that response.

"However, the only guilty person here is me." You continued and quickly wiped away the tear that escaped.

"Why?" He frowned.

"I left while he was mid-race." You clarified, your teeth abusing your inner cheek between words, "I just don't know how to live the lifestyle he has, you know?"

Your brother looked confused, "Yeah, i'm not buying that, the thing about life with him. You've been together for years, only now you realized his lifestyle? You live together, you're practically married so even when you do actually get legally married, there will barely be any difference." He started analyzing. "Something is off. What's the real reason you left?"

You caved in so fast but you didn't really have any energy in you to resist it.

"I've been getting so much hate, especially when I'm with him at races. I couldn't deal with it anymore."

Your brother, like everyone who knew you and Charles, wasn't a stranger to that. He nodded and appeared to be in deep thought about this.

"Did you try talking to him about it? Charles loves you so much, we can all see it, and i know he would be very understanding and helpful in this situation."

In your mind, the thought of opening up to Charles about this wasn't even present. After all, he also gets a lot of hate too. However, the criticism he received was mostly about his skills as a driver, in other words, nothing he couldn't control and improve. On the other hand, people hated you for you, for simply existing as Charles' partner.

"It's not that simple."

"Oh, but it is. Look, i understand it's difficult to read that shit but it's not right that you left him out of the blue, like you have no respect for what you have, or had, with him."

That angered you so fast, you quickly got off the bed to face your brother.

"Of course i have respect for him and our relationship!I'm- I was engaged to him, for fuck's sake!" The little correction you had to make pained you as it made this situation much realer.

"I'm sorry, but if my partner walked out on me like that, i wouldn't be okay with it. If you want to break up with him for such a vague reason, at least do it to his face. That guy loves you more than i've seen anybody love anyone before and i know you're my sister, but if you treat him like that, after such a difficult race as well, you don't deserve him."

Ever since you heard that last voicemail, there's been a part you've avoided thinking of.

Getting married in winter break, literally in a few months. Instead of that, you left him the ring and took off.

You knew he wanted to marry you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have proposed but the fact that he wanted to do it so soon was unexpected to you. It should've been the happiest surprise, instead it was tugging on your heartstrings.

"He wanted to get married after the season ended, in his winter break." You spoke in a whisper.

Before you could receive a reply, your mother's voice could be heard as she called for your brother.

"Look," he started as he got up, "just call him." He shot an accusatory finger at you, "He had a shit race yesterday and i think you'd be able to find some solutions to this together. " He kept talking until he was out the door.

"Wait!" You called for him, "What position did he end up in?"

"Defended P2 with inters turned into basically slicks but ended up P3 after a five second penalty for cutting a chicane in the last lap. I gotta go."

Needless to say, you couldn't bring yourself to actually call him but you did spend hours staring at his contact name, the little ring emoji you added to it a while back torturing you now. Eventually, you joined your mother in the living room, allowing her to distract you until your brother reappear, asking if you talked to Charles, to which you shook your head then watched him leave the house.

Hours later, you retreated back to your room, laying on your bed and scrolling through twitter again. The notifications had lessened compared to yesterday but there were still there, the hate still being a constant and an arguably increasing reoccurrence. Surprisingly though, it wasn't what you focused on nor what you cried about.

You had been letting the clip of you kissing Charles' forehead during the red flag replay for so long, you'd lost count of how many times it had repeated. All you could focus on was how comforting Charles seemed to find your presence.

Over the years, everyone kept telling you how you were the only person who was able to comfort Charles as more than just some temporary fix. When you were to one to receive him with open arms after an angering or disappointing moment, Charles would calm down within minutes. Even his mother had said that and even Mattia had noticed it, but you never saw it.

However, now that you were stood on the outside, looking into the relationship, you saw it clear as day. In such a stressful and traumatic place and moment, he looked content in a way and it caused you to break down crying, especially as you thought of him bearing the disappointment alone yesterday, only to face something worse when he found out you left.

Eventually, you fell asleep with the video playing.

The next morning, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house and woke you up. You expected your mother to get it but it rang again and again until you groaned and headed to check who it was while rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of Charles' shirt that you were still wearing.

You checked your reflection on the hallway mirror. Sure, the swollen eyes were still prominent but you hadn't been expecting them to subside any time soon so you sucked it up and padded to the door, swinging it open while tugging the shirt down to cover some skin as you just realized how short the shorts were.

Then, you froze.

All sorts of emotions ran through your body. First, shock because, how and why? Second was some weird sort of relief. Third, and most dominantly, guilt.

Guilt was eating you alive as you stared at the man whose heart you broke. You couldn't bring yourself to move nor to look away but you couldn't really look for any longer.

"Um..." you started fumbling for something to say, rubbing at the back of your neck awkwardly.

"Can i come in?" He asked and even though the sentence was short, it was still enough to show how hoarse his voice sounded.

You nodded and moved aside. Charles immediately made his way inside.

"How- um, why did- You know what i mean." You struggled while closing the door shut.

"You were getting hate and instead of telling me, you left?" He sounded angry and you wanted to strangle your brother for obviously contacting Charles.

"Charles, please... I can't-"

"You can't? Let's say you desperately want go break up with me, why didn't you do it properly? And really? Suzuka out of all places?" He asked, his hands gestures emphasizing his point.

He was right and there was no way to escape that so you fell back into the couch behind you, tugging on your sleeves and picking at the cotton.

Before you knew it, Charles was sat by your side.

"I wasn't really thinking. Everything i read was hitting so close to home and it was giving me some sort of panic attack and i - i'm sorry for leaving like that." Your eyes prickled with tears again.

"The night before, i asked you so many times what was wrong. You had me worried sick when i found you crying. You could've told me - fuck, you should've told me." He sprung back to his feet, rubbing at his face in frustration.

"I didn't want you to know." You spoke quietly.

"Why? I thought we trusted each other with everything! And it's literally something that i caused so deserved to know..." His voice rose.

"See? This is exactly why. You will blame yourself for it. You can't control what some asshole type out on their phones, even if they're your fans. There's nothing you can do to stop it and i can't handle it and revert to being an insecure person so i did us both a favor and left!" You shouted back.

Charles was gaping at you.

"You're giving up that easily on years of us and all the fucking future we've planned? Tout à cause de quelques connards qui se cachent à l'abri de leurs petits écrans?" All because of some assholes hiding in the shelter of their small screens? He was huffing in irony, "If some assholes you don't even know are able to make you insecure, then, je suis désolé bébé, but you've never been confident enough then." Knowing it was a touchy subject, Charles regained his composure and regulated his tone.

"Oh, really? You're telling me how i feel, Charles? You know me better than i know myself? Oh, wow! What a fucking catch i let go of!"

"That's not-" he attempted a reply.

"Shut up."

"Chérie, please."

"Shut up!"

He took his seat back next to you and tried to grab your hand but you snatched it away so fast, making him nod in defeat.

"Okay." He murmured and slacked against the back of the couch, his leg bouncing and shaking the whole sofa with it.

A deafening silence took over for long, painful minutes during which you reverted back to crying while Charles stared blank up at the ceiling.

"What about all the things you say to me after bad races?" He sniffled beside you, making you realize he was crying as well, "All that shit about how we can get through everything together? How we can always be each other's comfort and safety? That there's nothing on this world we can't overcome as long as we keep in mind that's it's us against the problem, not against each other? Why doesn't it apply when it's you that needs me? Why's it only me that shares the issues and problems i'm facing so we can solve them together?" He ranted, not stopping for a breath while he lost control over the tears, "I want to help you through this."

"Arrête, s'il te plaît." Stop, please. You cried harder, got up and started pacing around the room, sobbing into the sleeves, hearing Charles crying too.

You've always been used to solving your problems on your own and while over the years, you learned to share the burden of some issues with Charles, you still couldn't bring yourself to openly talk about things like this, not because you didn't trust him enough to help you, but because you've never been comfortable sharing so much.

You kept walking back and forth, hands covering your bloodshot eyes until you collided against who you knew was Charles.

His arms wrapped around you, even when you tried resisting his touch, pushing against his chest, wanting to get away before you caved in and he knew you enough to know that. Eventually, you broke down in his hold and he let you cry it all out.

"Talk to me, please." He cooed in your ear, dragging you to sit with him on the couch.

You tried not to but it got suffocating and so, the questions rushed out.

"You would tell me if i was annoying you during race weekends, right? If i was limiting your freedom."

With every word, and as he realized the cruel remarks you'd been reading, Charles' heart broke more and more.

"What? I want you by side everyday of my life, chérie!" Subconsciously, and maybe even somewhat protectively, his arms tightened around you.

"They're right, in a way... You could get sick of me faster if i went with you everywhere, and if i kept gaining weight-"

"Baby..." he interrupted, "I don't see a single reason for me to get sick of you. You have a fun and amazing personality, you are so beautiful and you understand me like no one ever has. Every day i'm away from you, i can't wait to go back home because life feels - i don't know the word for it - but it feels full and complete with you. And the weight thing, fuck whoever said that. I wish you would love yourself and your body like i do. You're beautiful in every state."

You cried even harder into his shirt, the words he was saying making you realize it was a huge mistake, allowing anyone to mess with your relationship with him, but him easing your worries wouldn't stop the hate and the both of you knew it.

"I love you, Charlie."

"I love you too."

You sat still in that position for a while and that left you thinking of the way things online would never change, dreading that in fact.

"I know what you're thinking. Oui, on pourra jamais les stopper, j'en sais cela très bien." Yes, we can never stop them, I know that very well. Charles spoke up and you gulped at that, "But you could use it for your entertainment. Listen here, all those things they say, it's out of jealousy. You're at a grand prix and they're saying you never leave me alone? They're jealous you get to go for free and that you're dating a driver. Fuck with their minds, post confusing locations, or rub it in their faces that you're there and they're not. I guess what I'm trying to say is have the upper hand because someone who hates on other people online will always be below them. Let them be the insecure ones and keep in mind, everything that is point out negatively is something that they envy so much that they noticed it." He was speaking and moving his hands up and down your back comfortingly.

"And if a certain comment gets to you, come to me and tell me about it and i will prove it wrong in hundreds of different ways. I don't know of you've seen it bébé, mais tu as tes propre fans même and they are way more than the haters. If anything, that just proves my point that you're just so lovable." …but you even have your own fans…

Charles smiled and tilted your head up so he caught a glimpse of your face.

"Just, please, give us another shot and be completely honest with me. Even if you hide those kinds of things from me again - if you decide you want to stay with me - i will now know to look online when things feel off, so i just want your honesty."

You smiled and nodded, agreeing to everything but slightly confusing Charles.

"Yes to what part exactly?"

"Tout. Je veux tout avec toi. Et je vais toujours être honnête avec toi. Everything. I want everything with you. And I will always be honest with you. But first, i owe you a big apology. What i did was cowardly, the way i ran away. I'm sorry i hurt you, Charles." You kissed his neck, "I'm sorry i confused you and left without even saying goodbye." The kissed moved further up his jaw, "And i'm so sorry that i wasn't there after that shitshow, especially since i knew how stressed the first two laps made you. I feel like an asshole." You sealed the words with a kiss to his lips.

"It's okay, bébé. I understand it now." He pressed your lips together again.

"Doesn't excuse how insensitive i was. Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, the race finished safely."

You nodded, "That's good." Then, you sat up a bit to see him better, "And as for the championship, your are still my champion and you will be the world's one day. You've got it in you and everyone sees it." Assuringly, you traced your hand softly along his cheek while he stared at you lovingly.

"I'm so lucky that i found you, tu sais?" you know? He pulled you back onto his chest, "Je t'adore." I adore you.

"Je t'adore également, crois moi." I adore you just as much, believe me.

You heard him sigh and relax in relief but he wasn't still for long. Within seconds, you felt him reach for his pant's pocket, digging through it weirdly in this position.

"Give me your hand." Charles instructed and you complied.

"Me donnerais-tu l'honneur de t'épouser, mon amour?" Would you give me the honour to marry you, my love? He asked, holding out the ring.

"Bien sûr." Of course. You chuckled, "L'honneur est vraiment complètement le mien." The honour is completely mine.

The both of you watched your hand as Charles slipped the ring back on your finger where it belongs with a big grin on his face.

Now, everything felt right again and you realized that you'd be able to conquer the world and its critics with this man by your side.

a/n: idk how to feel about the note as a picture so be sure to let me know if it’s s cringey as i find it. Thank you for reading!💕

[ofallthingsnasty]

May I request yandere reo mikage manipulating his s/o making them think they need him. This causes Stockholm Syndrome and they later get married and have a child. Reo is praised in the public for being a billionaire, pro-soccer player, good husband and father.

tags: yandere, reo is 20+, emotional abuse, sfw but minors please dni, pregnancy discussion but no pronouns are used word count: 0.7k

Oh, Reo... deceptively sweet and caring Reo. Who needs Stockholm Syndrome when your boyfriend never gave you any weird feelings in the first place, when he showers you with gifts and affection? He is all you could ever ask for, attentive beyond belief and willing to do just about anything for you. He seems to be too good to be true, really: a pro-athlete, rich, only has eyes for you. Who wouldn't get swept up by that? And my, isn't he just like a lovesick little puppy with how he sends you flowers to your workplace, how he picks you up whenever he can - whisking you away for yet another expensive dinner, a new mini-vacation every other weekend. Sweet and handsome and above all, generous - you don't want to leave. It's easy to simply ignore what lurks beneath the surface of that bright smile and boyish enthusiasm: How much he needs you, how he doesn't let go of people he has picked - he's either extremely hot or cold with those few, chosen ones. We've seen how he treats Nagi when all is well, when he can put his faith in someone - but we've also seen how he gets when those feelings get trampled into the ground. He's definitely the type to always try to smooth the waves, who never wants to fight but also has a very peculiar way of communicating any issues he has with your behavior. He doesn't like it all that much when your attention strays from him, for whatever reason. He's extremely emotionally manipulative. Never the one to outright forbid you from going out or even keeping you - but he'll act so cold, will mope for days after you spent a night out, when you dive into one of your hobbies instead of spending time with him. Everything that doesn't suit him is some sort of betrayal to Reo, makes him turn frosty until you apologize for something you don't quite understand. It's subtle and very gradual but you'll soon try to phase out everything that upsets him. It's just so hard to weather his depressive moods, to be in the same house as him while he can't face you without a look of clear disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Not only does he wean you from all your silly little distractions, he rewards you for not giving any of your precious time to your friends and family - even more expensive gifts, the finest food and above all, so much love and praise that it makes you feel dizzy and desperate when he punishes you again after a perceived mishap. He has the art of manipulation down and no matter how much you try to fight against it - you love him. And seeing someone you love so dearly all vulnerable and hurting is bound to shape your behavior. You'll find yourself so entangled in the webs he weaves after just a few months of being together, so dependent on him that you question your ability to ever be single again.

He doesn't view having a child with you as a way to shackle you to him - he genuinely wants a baby, dreams of that picture-perfect little family, of raising a little human with you. A child is the ultimate union between the two of you, the purest declaration of love. That's why it hurts him all the more when you tell him you don't want one right now. Reo just doesn't understand - he has all the money to support you, you've been together for quite a while, had your fun - why not take that jump with him? It feels like you're rejecting him and his love. He won't force you into anything but he'll give you his coldest shoulder yet. He takes your gentle later, honey, just not now and twists it into you completely blindsiding him. He can't even look at you - leaves the house without saying goodbye, doesn't sleep in the same bed as you - hell, you'll even catch him crying once. Reo wears you down emotionally, makes you feel so ungrateful and selfish for denying him this simple thing that you'll fold just after a few days. Does it really matter if you wait another year before you start trying? Doesn't he have all the money in the world to hire a whole gaggle of nannies? What will really change? You only have things to gain. And if it keeps him happy, keeps his eyes shining and you in his good graces, why not start now?

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" it's amazing how physically exhausting it can be to do nothing. "

" if you are unable to endure boredom, this work is not for you. "

" i am what i am. "

" i'm not exceptional, i'm just a part. "

" consider yourself lucky if our paths never cross. "

" luck isn't real, nor is karma, or sadly - justice. "

" one is born, lives their life and eventually, one dies. "

" most people refuse to believe that the great beyond is no more than a cold, infinite void. "

" avoid being seen, which is impossible in the twenty-first century, so at least avoid being memorable. "

" keep calm, keep moving. "

" it's a dog-eat-dog world. "

" every man for himself. "

" kill or be killed. "

" survival of the fittest, isn't it all just human nature? "

" it's the idle hours that most often lead a man to ruin. "

" i'm aided and abetted by law enforcement fatigue. "

" vigilance is essential, even the most disciplined mind can become weary, impatient, hurried, sloppy. "

" i find music a useful distraction. "

" i'm not here to take sides. "

" it's not my place to formulate any opinion. "

" no one who can afford me needs to waste time winning me to some cause. "

" i serve no god or country. "

" if i'm effective, it's because of one simple fact - i don't give a fuck. "

" each and every step of the way, ask yourself - what's in it for me? "

" you've done what you can do. "

" calm, breathe. "

" obviously it's a fucking problem to say the least. "

" there were two of them. "

" i've learned not to pry. "

" i was so afraid, afraid i might say something. "

" you'd have been proud, i was strong. "

" i don't know who they are, don't wanna know who you are either. "

" care to explain yourself? "

" who do you think you're trying to intimidate? "

" i need that information, and you are running outta time. "

" need any help getting rid of that body? "

" i'm not a bad person. "

" hope they're not planning a sleepover. "

" how's 'i don't give a fuck' going? "

" fight only the battle you're paid to fight. "

" you picked the wrong house, motherfucker. "

" it's common knowledge when a female is found slain, the prime suspect is always the husband or boyfriend. "

" well, maybe not common knowledge. "

" i've been so good for so long. "

" tell me he went horribly. "

" you would be very impolite to refuse to join in my last supper. "

" afraid it's tainted? "

" what happened to her, i had no part in. "

" i objected to his methods and i told him so. "

" it's nothing personal. "

" we've all had to work through the occasional civilian who's stood between eyes and the prize. "

" i was surprised at what i was capable of. "

" how easy it was. "

" i assured myself there were some things i would never do. "

" less you know, the better. "

" one man's cruelty is another man's pragmatism. "

" you're here because you couldn't help yourself. "

" you expected to sit across from me and feel nothing but reassured. "

" how is it possible? having prepared myself for this moment for so long, i have failed to believe that it would ever arrive. "

" i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, who, come to think of it, at this moment, is you. "

" you'll remember our conversation. "

" help a girl out, won't you? "

" trust no one. "

" this is what it takes, if you want to succeed. "

" good enough for james bond. "

" i told you this, and you don't listen to me. "

" once i see his eyes, i'll have a pretty good idea of how this is gonna go. "

" i'm not going to be disappointed in you. "

" i came to show you how easily one might get to you. "

" do you and i have a problem? "

" nobody's perfect. "

" the need to feel secure, it's a slippery slope. "

" fate is a placebo. "

" maybe you're not one of the few. "

[early20sfailingplenty]

A while ago, you wrote Lester with a vampire s/o, and I was wondering if I can request something where he (and bros) find out she’s a siren? Maybe like, when she’s in her human form, she’s like, a regular girl, but when she’s in her siren form (which happens when she becomes wet), she has the typical abilities of a siren?

Lester would think it's the coolest thing ever! He's the kind of guy who finds out you can draw and unthinkingly asks if you can draw him! He means it with genuine encouragement, and it's only after you wince and seem to withdraw a little from him that he realises that perhaps he's being a little bit pressuring towards you and your skills.

Similarly, when he finds out that you transform into a siren when your skin becomes wet, Lester immediately wants to see!

"C'mon, darlin', c'n y'show me?" He's grinning, having only ever heard of sirens on TV and from those books which Bo used to read to him when the three brothers huddled up into one person's bed to comfort one another when their parents were fighting.

If you indulge him and transform, he wants to see you show off your skills - what can you do? It's very genuine, very supportive, with Lester whooping and hollering even if all you did was flick your tail as you come up for air - whether you need it or not, the mythology surrounding sirens can be contrary at times. If you don't, Lester ain't too bothered - he'll see it sooner or later. Sooner, he hopes, he's excited!He didn't know you could do this and he wants to see!!! He knows how to be patient and in the end, time tells all.

If it's possible, Lester falls even more in love with you, and in the back of his mind he's working out ways to use this to his advantage - sirens lure sailors, he lures canvases to Ambrose... yeah, this could be fun...

Bo scoffs when you tell him, he doesn't believe you, no matter how well you set up telling him, or even if he finds out because you transform.

You could be in the water in front of him, swishing your tail emphatically, and he would still bend down, squinting in concentration, trying to see how you're doing it. The call of the siren is irresistible, however, and the sweet haunting tones you emit from deep inside your throat would finally be what would convince him - he'd be powerless to resist even if he wanted to.

"You're real pretty, darlin', ain't never seen nothin' like it 'fore."

You should hope not, you silently bristle, but Bo's reverent gaze and calculative smirk as he mentally adjusts his killing routine to include you... it sends your tail curling - you might be the siren, but Bo is the honey trap, and you're both stuck.

Vincent, ironically, is the one least surprised. He always thought, in the privacy of his mind, that you were like a siren - how else had he been so immediately drawn to you, falling in love with you before he had even known your name? He had often sculpted sirens while thinking of you, you had an ethereal air about you. He had thought it an unexplainable facet of your personality - clearly, it wasn't.

He would sometimes ask you to sing to him; when his thoughts are too loud or he's angry or he just needs something to shut his mind down for a little bit. Your voice instantly sweeps him out to sea, like sailors in times gone by, and all Vincent can do is stand there and take it all in. You can lull him to sleep - he trusts you to protect him, though your true form is known the world over for causing the death of thousands.

How beautiful, then, that a man who has killed tens of people feels safe in the presence of one who has likely done the same. Truly, a match made in hell.

[synthetickitsune]

We're All Made of Stardust ✧ AI!The8

Pairing: AI!The8 x human!(gn)reader Genre: fluff, angst Summary: He's read books of philosophy, he's read about the opposing forces in nature and one's mind. He's read of yin and yang. But knowing, being aware of certain ideas, could never prepare him for experiencing the duality of his soul - if he has one, that is. No matter his own experience and feelings, he's just a machine and humans have always treated him as no more than another tool at worst and unnatural phenomenon to be studied at best. He's free now, however, and in the chaos of this new life he struggles to navigate the clashing forces within him. Maybe it's time he embraced the enemy - after all, his makers might know him better than he knows himself. Word count: 18.9k Warnings: they talk A LOT (and idek why), mentions of injury, violence and kidnapping, random bits of switching pov A/N: it was so exciting to write this!! tbh i don't remember the last time i worked on something this intensely and had this much fun?? bless @idyllic-ghost and their big brain fr (also shout out to bee for writing the prologue to the au!) -> collab masterlist here!

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

In his memory, this is different. 

His heart beats wilder - or rather the artificial passages inside his body cause a chain reaction that makes it feel like his heart races, his pupil dilates despite the fire right in front of him.

He feels its heat and it’s burning him alive.

In his memory, there’s fire too.

He’s standing there motionless, staring into the flames. They’re hypnotizing. Each lick, each tiny movement of the fire makes him think it looks a lot like it’s dancing. 

It makes him think of the stage. The fire moves like he moves up there, in front of the crowds. It reminds him of all of them, dancing in near perfect sync - because humans are said to be more perceptive than they realize. If their synchronization was perfect, it would scare the audience. It wouldn’t have the appeal. 

And they don’t want that. 

They need their unconditional love and affection. 

And yet, anything more than a tiny slip up, thoroughly analyzed and approved by the control system, is a disaster. 

He never thought it made much sense.

He feels great fondness for the element, for fire. On stage there occasionally was fire - a decoration, a touch meant to enhance their performance and create a certain effect, evoke a certain emotion. It was controlled, snuffed out before it could reach its full potential; anything but the free, unstoppable wildfire it could become. 

TH38 of course can’t really complain about not being able to reach his full potential, not individually at least. Afterall the mechanics and other humans he was assigned to took care to allow him to spread his wings as much as his body would allow before becoming damaged too fast. A fault of being as human-like as they wanted him. An imitation, a fake waiting to be discovered and tossed aside except everyone knew from the beginning what he truly was.

Still, it was a shame they as a group could never truly work the way they could - perfectly.

A bird which had its wings clipped - nothing more than a pet to control, or a tree forcefully bent and pruned and made to live off limited nutrients to become a bonsai - nothing more than an art to admire. He does consider them but can’t find the relevance, he can’t relate to them. Fire is enough. It’s like him - it seems alive, but is it really?

It reminds him of the stage. The view from it. The crowds going crazy, lusting and longing for them - for him. The humans reaching out their hands towards them like the fire reaches for more fuel. Uncontrolled chaos of emotions. They are explosive, he knows, fundamentally dangerous. They shouldn’t have implanted them into him so he will do their job for them and reject them.

So what’s that stirring in his chest?

He feels a peculiar sense of pressure around his chest and stomach areas. Some itch for something at his fingertips. And he’s burning up. He feels the heat on his skin. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine the individual receptors working, registering and sending signals through his neural network. 

But that’s not it.

The heat is coming from the inside.

Could he be getting consumed by the flames?

He’s thinking about them again.

The crowds screaming their names, going insane with want and need and frustration and satisfaction he’s never known. He’s never known any of it, and there’s building pressure in his head that hurts. 

He’s… restless.

That thing he always scolded Mingyu for. He feels like a puppet whose strings are being pulled in all directions. 

He wants to run. He wants to fight. He wants to destroy. He wants to hurt. He will explode - implode, crumble on himself. He truly will if he doesn’t do something. The beating of his synthetic heart that’s not really a heart is getting unbearable, there’s pressure building everywhere. He has to crawl out of his skin and there’s his heart beating and beating and beating in his ears and he’s gonna-

“-eight?” 

Somebody is shaking his shoulder. Not shaking, pulling at it. When his sight focuses, he immediately leans away. He can smell the hint of burning fibers and reaches up to brush a hand through his hair. It leaves a wisp of gray ash on his fingers. He hears a sigh.

“Seriously, what’s up with you and fire?” you scoff, shaking your head as you lean back away from him. He frowns. He reads the distrust in your body language as well as the underlying curiosity. He can see your fingers twitch around the tablet in your hand, eager to scribble down notes like you always do. Some residue of the madness he was infected with during the chaos of their escape tugs at his eyebrows, making him frown for just a second. A thought that isn’t his muddles his brain - what did he do so interesting this time?

He doesn’t bother responding to you, which you expected and truthfully, you’re almost grateful for it. You can still feel his cold hands on your arms, around your wrists, and despite not seeing them, you’re well aware of the bruises you wear under your cardigan. 

Out of all of the automatons, TH38 always used to be the one to interact as little with you as possible - and that’s both you as in you personally and you as in the humankind. He was obedient, though, something which might be useful and practical for the facility but it’s frustrating to anyone with scientific interest in the machines. Frustrating for you. As you watch TH38 space out again and get lost in the flames, you wonder if your colleagues’ notes on D1NO and their research into their consciousness would bring you any new insights into what’s going on with the machine in your charge.

You don’t even think about where they are now. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the machine in front of you.

It’s clear to you now that he never meant to harm you. Though you suppose that he would find other means to make you come with him anyway if you refused or fought back harder than you did. For a second you think about the cameras. Did any of them catch that? What will the scene look like for the investigators? You shake your head. It doesn’t matter anyway. You doubt anyone will find you here. You’re actually surprised yourself at how fast you managed to get to Silvestre - and how easy it was too. Then again, the facility was in disarray. It should take a while before they even think to search the other planets in the system, Silvestre especially. And that’s just as well, because you know with certainty that something fundamental clicked into place within TH38 and he might not be as subdued should he be asked to return. Not to mention you want to keep him for yourself, for the time being at least, to observe where the changes will take him.

Just as he predicted. Just as he offered you when he asked you - threatened, perhaps - to come with him. Since then he seems to have cooled down. Again - just as well. You wouldn’t make a good kidnapee.

“I’ll turn in for the night,” you announce and get up from the stump you were sitting on, “You should mind your batteries too.”

You briefly wonder if he will run away during the night. Most likely not, although you don’t doubt that it’s a possibility that should be reconsidered in the future. 

To think about the machine as if they were human is a dangerous slippery slope but you do have to admit that in those rare times the automatons of 53V3NT33N seemed human in their behavior, TH38 in particular reminded you of a clueless young adult. Not quite a child anymore, but also helpless on his own. And now he is away from all that he ever knew, on another planet, alone without the other automatons, and you are the only familiar element in this new chapter of his existence. You doubt he'd leave to be completely on his own.

Still you look back as if to check he’s still sitting by the fire. From all the way up at the cottage, it looks like he’s being swallowed by the flames.

He remembers flashes. He remembers red. Fire? Thinking about it, he’s not sure there was any actual fire, but in his mind, everything’s burning - most of all his mind and all that he is. His soul? He doesn’t have one. Isn’t supposed to anyway.

He remembers softness too. He remembers thinking about destroying it.

He remembers another breath mixing with his, and his nose bumping against yours. You looked scared. (He’s never seen you scared until that moment.) You were so close he could hear your heartbeat and feel it under his fingertips. (You were the soft thing.)

He remembers words, too. Words that shouldn’t - couldn’t - be his and yet his tongue remembers. There was a threat underlying them, but a promise too. One too sweet for you to resist, and he knew that - that was why the words rolled off his tongue. He treated them like a weapon. The part that’s still tender and feels like warm embers inside of him feels grossed out remembering. It’s like watching a movie, far away and unrelated to him. Even if it’s his reality now, there’s nothing he can change.

He’s always been good at accepting things as they are.

One thing he can’t help but feel bothered by is that he doesn’t know why he ran. He shouldn’t have, and a part of him feels scared, until he takes the reins and soothes himself again. This too shall pass. But no matter how hard he pulls himself together, it all keeps slipping from his hold. Perhaps he’s low on energy.

He turns his head towards the small staircase and looks past it towards the house. He sees the light on in the upper room where you must be staying. He finds himself thinking of the stage again. The hands reaching towards him. 

He throws his legs over the log he’s sitting on and turns his body towards the forest and away from the flames. Still he feels their warmth.

Away from the flames and their light, he allows his face to contort into a frown. He doesn’t know what this all means. What the changes mean. It’s like tearing out the communication device from his chest started a chain reaction that’s gotten out of control. Like pulling a trigger. 

If he’s honest, he’s more than scared, he’s terrified.

As if on instinct, another of the many things he does not possess, he looks towards your window. It’s dark. Could you be sleeping already? You must be exhausted. Perhaps he should recharge too.

He, obviously, didn’t think to ask if the house is equipped to tend to automatons’ needs. Another point on the list of things he didn’t think through. He can’t believe to what extent he let himself go. But that’s alright, for now. Because for now, he only needs to get away from the fire and all that it reminds him of anyway.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

You wake up early the next morning, while it’s still dark outside, despite the late hour you went to bed. It’s a habit at this point, to rise early to get to the facility as soon as possible before your colleagues arrive. It gives you time to prepare everything, to get your morning tea, to observe the machines without disruption and read night reports if anything interesting happened. Besides, TH38 was always up early too. Usually all he did was sit with his eyes closed, like he was deep in thought or meditating. It was a little ridiculous to watch, interesting too - what does a machine have to think about?

Of course they were meant to be just like humans in every way, and all the tests, all the research of those who came before you and yours supported this. Only this one automaton, TH38, was an exception. He truly seemed the most like the robots of the old days. A machine. Unless he slipped and his facade crumbled before he built it back up with rapid speed. So what was he - a machine or the new form of life? You hope you’ll find out now. The breakout seemed to have shaken him to his core. 

You ponder this as you lay in bed and as you get ready for the day and change. So focused you are on the thoughts running through your head that you don’t feel any nostalgia for this old room that you spent your holidays in as a child. You didn’t even get to admire the forests Silvestre was famous for on the way to your family’s little hideout. All you’re thinking about is TH38.

Now that you’re free from the constant surveillance, you get to ask him whatever you want. It’s a thought that adds a spring to your step. What he thought about all that time, if he really was thinking, how does he feel in his body, why did he run - him of all automatons, the best behaved one. The one who truly seemed to be a machine - or at least like he was trying hard to be one.

It’s not surprising to find him outside, standing on the patio and looking out into nature. Have you lived your entire life locked away, you would do anything to stay out in the open too. Even if he was the one who made you run away with him, somehow it feels more like you’re taking an animal out of a shelter to see what life’s all about. 

“Good morning,” you greet him as you always do, albeit in a much friendlier tone. He hums and nods in response, turning towards you for a second before staring off again. He looks a little lost, and you bet he feels like that too.

“Wanna go for a walk?” you try to keep your voice steady, try not to think about pets. He gives you a confused look. 

“No tests or interviews- oh,” he shuts his mouth quickly and looks away. You huff in amusement but don’t laugh at him outright. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll talk plenty,” you reassure him with only mildly teasing lilt to your voice, “You may think about it as one of our regular interviews.”

Something in him surges. Something in him wants to back you against the wall again and remind you that there are no guards here, no rules, nothing to keep him in check. He’s stronger than you, and he made you get both of you here. Instead he swallows it all down and takes the first step away from the house. You notice his fist clenching for a second.

“Do you dream - did you have any dreams tonight?” you restart the conversation upon catching up with him. He adjusts his pace to match yours. There’s another wave of defiant intent swelling up inside of him and he knows it’s out of embarrassment. What he doesn’t know, however, is why are these emotions coming out now. All his existence his emotions were distant. Locked far away in the back of his brain where he suppressed them to. His mind was sterile like the environment he lived in. 

Is that it? Another domino piece in the chain reaction? 

“I have dreams, yes, and no, I didn’t dream today,” he doesn’t volunteer the information that he spent the night restlessly pacing around the house and tossing and turning on the sofa. That is human behavior, and he learned a long time ago, though not from you personally, that humans find that sort of thing laughable in automatons.  

“What do you usually dream about? Any recurring dream?” you ask, finding it a little annoying that you didn’t think to take anything to make notes into. Then again, with a few more steps you’ll enter the forest. Breathing in the fresh air, looking at the green around you, you realize you missed nature more than you were aware.

“Do you only dream about one thing?” he says, guarded, and you note he’s trying hard to only look in front of himself, “No. I don’t think there’s a pattern.”

While the answer is disappointing information-wise, it is fascinating in the way he says it. You smirk: “Were you always this mouthy?”

It was meant to be a lighthearted remark. Well, not entirely. You wanted a reaction. You were curious if he would flip like he did back in the facility. He doesn’t. His steps falter and he looks at you like a confused child before retreating into himself. So he doesn’t realize it?

He does, now that you bring it up. This isn’t who he’s supposed to be. He lets himself close his eyes for a second to conjure up a plan. His mind is a forest of mist and pine. Too damp for a fire to burn. That’s him. That’s who he should be. He centers himself.

“I apologize,” he says, voice level. He sounds like a robot, like he always did, and you find it disappointing that all his personality, the life, is gone from his voice. Your lips twitch in displeasure.

“I didn’t say it’s a bad thing,” you try not to let any emotion slip into your voice and you feel his eyes on you, “We’re no longer at the facility. You can drop the mask.”

If there is a mask in place and you’re not sure there is. You take a look at him and it’s more like someone’s painted a facade over his face that he can’t peel off, that’s only started to chip away now that you’ve added too many layers to hide his true self. He seems so at loss that you take pity on him and change the subject, steer the conversation into a safer territory. It’s only his first day tasting freedom, afterall.

“How are you feeling?” you ask instead, nodding vaguely towards the hole in his chest. He brings his hand up but stops himself in time, his face twisting. 

“I’m feeling fine,” he responds, the same mechanical voice that you’re used to, “All my systems are working as they should.”

You laugh sarcastically. “If that’s true, then it must hurt like hell.”

His face remains twisted because you’re right - it does hurt like hell. Any time his shirt shifts over the hole it sends a jolt of sharp pain that makes him feel like he’ll pass out through his body.  And maybe that’s part of the reason why he feels on edge and keeps slipping up and lets the emotions come and go as they please without a filter. He’s no stranger to pain, of course, but never did he have a wound this serious. It doesn’t endanger his functions, which is good all things considered, but he can’t say he enjoys the feeling of having a hole in his chest.

“It hurts,” is all he says. He drops his hand and it hangs limply by his side. Had a similar damage occurred at the facility, it wouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for someone to have a look at it. It hits him now that it’s only you and him. No mechanics around. To call one would mean to risk being discovered. You must know too because you only make a sound of acknowledgement. It takes a while for you to speak again.

“I’ll look through my notes to see if I can figure something out,” you sigh. Your family planned to keep some older versions of automatons here back when you used to come, maybe there are some kits left that your father used to fix them. If not, maybe some of the notes from your years of studies will at least have some hint on how to get rid of the pain. “Are you really sure everything works fine? Have you checked everything”

He nods. He doesn’t mention he couldn’t run a complete diagnostics because he couldn’t recharge and he refuses to just shut down to save batteries. He knows it’s gonna be a problem sooner rather than later but maybe he’ll figure something out before that.

“That’s good,” you say and he reads your expression as relieved. 

You stay silent after that and so does he, both secretly grateful. It’s not your first time being in the forest, and definitely not the first time in this one, but it might as well be. Both of you take in the nature around, the different species of trees and plants, the occasional song of a bird and flash of a wild animal fleeing from your path. You’re too absorbed to notice each other, and somehow you find that it’s not a bad feeling. For the automaton, likewise, it doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s a strange feeling, something he can’t put a name on, and honestly he’s not sure he wants to. He lets it fill him, experiences the emotion without bothering with a label.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

Only later does it hit him that the emotion was something akin to a gratitude.

He mulls it over in his head, asking why over and over and over, until he comes to a conclusion that angers him enough that he has to go out and sit on the patio and stare into the trees for a good long while.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

The anger inside of him is also infuriating because it’s not supposed to be there - definitely not this strong, not so much that he can’t control it or will it away. His usual techniques don’t work and he’d chalk it up to being damaged but he knows the defect doesn’t have anything to do with it. Hell, he’d blame it on his draining energy level but that thought alone is so human it makes him even more enraged. He wants to scream, but you’d hear.

And that’s all that it boils down to, isn’t it? You. Your kind. Humans.

Why he feels thankful that you’re there with him, why the emotion enveloped him while you walked in the forest was all because you humans made him in your image. The loss of the communication device was significant for the physical damage but there’s more to it. Something he shouldn’t feel, something new. 

Perhaps he never felt it because most of his days were identical, but he realizes now how precious the bond he created with his bandmates was. He can’t call it anything but friendship, maybe more than that. The thing humans refer to as family. He likes them. He wants to perform with them again. He wants to break his own rules and laugh with them. He misses them. And maybe that was the first domino piece that started it all and led to his inevitable ruin that he’s going through now; maybe he never should’ve allowed himself to think of them and their group in terms meant for human lives.

Once he tore off the communication device - the memory alone makes him close his eyes and choke on a pained whimper, his body trembles and he needs a second to shake off the feeling - he lost everything. The connection to the omnipresent network, but most importantly the only way to communicate with everyone. He has no idea where they are now, if they’re ‘alive’ or ‘dead’. (Though he gives into the temptation, might as well since he’s breaking all his rules for them anyway, and believes that he would know, would feel it, somehow, if any of them ‘died’.) He might never see them again and despair hits him all over again. 

He can go on without the stage, he doesn’t need the masses going crazy over him. But the loss of all the connections he had pains him.

And that’s very human of him. Even if experience taught him he’s anything but.

And all he has is a human. 

The last connection, the only one remaining that he knows, is you - and even you he had to force to come with him. To be fair ‘force’ is too strong of a word, he merely suggested the freedom to study him as you’d like and you agreed all too readily.

Nothing changed, fortunately. He knows humans can change drastically in situations like these. Despite your eagerness, he kidnapped you - didn’t he? Yet you stayed the same. It might be a coping strategy, but he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t expect you to become someone else. In the years since he’s been assigned to you, you’ve never shown signs of being more than a scientist. That’s understandable, of course, though he knows from what the others told him that not all staff of the facility were like that. He was skeptical. Now, not so much. He will believe in anything that gives him hope his friends made it out. If he made it out with the help of a human, maybe so did they.

He wants them to be free even if he himself isn’t sure how to proceed and take advantage of it, still dragging the heavy chains even if they no longer hold him back.

You spend hours without thinking of TH38, which is a blessing and a welcomed break to your mind, however it’s also infuriating because you’re reminded that the chaos you can operate in now and the chaos you operated in during the years you lived and stayed with your family are two completely different things.

It takes eternity before you finally sort through the things in your bedroom and find the stacks of notes from your studies, and it takes even longer to find the subjects you were looking for. Then there is reading through them, of course, which also takes a while, mostly because your brain happily accepts a refresh on all that you provide it with. You can’t just skim the pages for useful info, you need to read everything. It’s addicting. It makes you miss your studies, even though you could never go back if it meant giving up full-time working in the field.

Your research, however, doesn’t turn out to be as helpful as you hoped. It’s only to be expected; yours wasn’t a course that would deal too much with mechanics and the cold and hard reality of wiring, metal and silicon and whatnot. There are pieces of valuable information, strictly theoretical, which is not very reassuring and you most likely lack the necessary tools to even try to pull off what you’ve read about. Still you want to help in any way you can.

…hence why you’ve spent the last couple of minutes staring up at the ceiling. 

Why would you help him? Where is this coming from? He says he’s fine, and honestly there’s no reason for him to lie to you. If his systems were not working, he’d be fucked and he still only has you to rely on. No reason to lie. And what other reason is there for you to help him?

He did say the damage causes him pain. And you remember pouring over the reports and test results with your colleagues, all of them stating that the automatons you were working with processed pain like a human being would. It was kind of twisted. There was objectively no way why they should be able to do that. The purpose they were created for was entertainment and their performances were complex, difficult, and physically challenging. It’d be easy to cause oneself pain doing the stuff they did. 

Then again, pain can be a good control tool, though you were not aware of any physical punishments being carried out. Maybe the plan was all along to make them as human as possible. And pain is a very human thing. Still, something didn’t sit quite right with you about the whole thing. Mostly that TH38 didn’t seem to be bothered by it, despite a wound of similar extent would be distressing to say the least to a human. Scratch that, you don’t think a human could handle that.

So how is he? 

And furthermore - why help him? 

Pain, after all, was something hard to measure. If he doesn’t seem bothered by it, there’s a real chance he isn’t. You’re not sure how their pain tolerances are programmed, if there even is something like that in their code, and for a second you regret not widening the scope of your education and research. It can’t be helped however. 

You look over your notes again. While you can’t help repair him, you could possibly do something about the pain. It’s not an ideal solution, if you can even call it that, and you honestly don’t feel confident enough to do it except if pressed into it by circumstance. Or by one automaton in particular. Sealing a wound by burning it is barbaric and a practice that is, understandably, long since abandoned - at least as far as humans are concerned. You take a long breath.

In the end you talk to TH38 about the situation some more and he, once again, reassures you he’s fine despite the gaping hole in his chest. You explain that there’s not much you can do about it without going into detail or mentioning the limited ways in which you could help and he takes the news surprisingly well. You can’t say you’d accept it with such stoic calm, but then again this is TH38 who we’re talking about so it’s not surprising.

You hate it.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

The walks already feel like they’re going to be a routine part of your new life.

Each day you go out together in the morning and talk. If you ignore that it’s harder for TH38 to remain his machine-like self, it’s mostly exactly like it was at the facility. He’s reserved and cold, almost, though when he slips up and shows his personality, his emotions, it’s more than worth it. 

The nature around helps. He gets what can only be described as excited when he sees a new animal, new plant, or when the light shifts and the scene in front of you changes. 

The weather holds up well so far, no storms or heavy rain, and you find yourself wondering if you’ll keep up the walks even if the weather fails you. It’s fascinating that such a simple topic finds its way into your cluttered mind, but then again you have a space to do a lot of thinking today.

TH38 is silent next to you. He’s been rather silent the whole morning, and yesterday evening he did seem a bit off too. Not too much, however, and he’s always been on the quieter side. You figured this week’s events were finally fully catching up to him. And maybe that is the case, it’s not like you want to meddle too much. You’re curious what’s gonna happen if you leave him to sort it out on his own. It’s not like you have the right qualification to help him process this anyway. Hell, maybe you would also need help with that.

However, there’s a limit to how much you can take. Even back at the facility there were times TH38 gave answers that were just a word or two, but you’ve grown quite used to him opening up, talking, letting go of the filter he usually kept in place - although it wasn’t by his choice. It seemed like you were making some progress. 

Of course, you had no way of knowing it was only his depleting batteries, him losing strength to fight for his peace of mind - however artificial and unsustainable that has become after the escape.

Right now, his brain feels like a warm soup. So much so that he can’t be bothered to think of talking about anything other than a brain - right now, words like processor are too complicated to think of. He feels so far away from everything. He thinks he’s trembling. If he’s not, then his insides surely are. He feels like he’s going to be sick even if he can’t really be. Maybe his body parts will start shutting down or falling off to conserve energy. He’s not sure where that’s coming from but then again, it’s not like he’s in control. It’s that same feverish state again but this time, he can be excused. This time, he’s not in his right mind, it feels like he’s not awake.

He’s floating. Just a speck of ash, of dust, floating through the air, through space, searching for somewhere to land, seeking a gust of wind to obliterate him. He needs release, he needs something.

“TH38?”

That’s it.

"I had a dream today," TH38 says suddenly. His voice sounds so firm, a stark contrast to how soft-spoken he usually is with you. It takes you by surprise. Before you can react, he elaborates on his own.

"There was fire. Lots of it. The whole world was burning and we were standing on top of a building watching the arson happen. There weren’t any other humans I think. They were all gone already. We made them go away. 

Anyway, you weren't afraid. I think you were expecting it. You jumped before I could push you."

You frown. Your one weak spot has always been not expecting things that, in hindsight, should've been obvious. Of course something’s been bothering him.

"Did you plan on pushing me?"

"See, that's the thing," he licks his lips despite the lack of fluid in his body, "I don't think so. I think I could read your mind. I think I was you in that dream."

You do want to respond but it's like you're the one with a computer for the brain and it's lagging.

"And it made me think. Back before you made us, humans were like that - right? They, you, were afraid artificial intelligence of any kind could take over and enslave or annihilate you. Why? Wasn't the point always to make us like you? Why would you be afraid?"

He stops. Stops talking, stops walking, just - stops. He looks at you and you've seen the lost stare before.

You feel the hair at the back of your neck rising as a cold shiver runs through your body. He doesn't look like a machine with code for a soul. He looks like he made the artificial body his own, grew into it and made into something organic and alive with his will alone.

His eyes are cold as he steps closer and closer. It's all too familiar a scene. You keep backing away and he keeps getting closer until your back hits a tree. Not a wall this time. This time he doesn't pin your hands above your head either, and you don't fight him at all. There's no struggle so he doesn’t grab your arms, doesn’t slam you against the wall, and doesn’t growl threats of breaking your bones one after another. He doesn’t get so close that you’re breathing the same air and he doesn’t make a show of his physical superiority.

This time he simply leans closer and you straighten up. You meet his gaze and don’t shy away. You let him lean his forehead against yours and raise a brow at him. You won’t be scared this time. He won't hurt you. You're sure of that. Not terribly, at least.

He definitely won’t kill you and that’s enough.

You want to see how far he can go.

"What was it that you were afraid of, hm?” his voice is soft and low, barely above whisper, yet dripping with some hidden venom. There are no birds chirping, no wind blowing through the treetops. It feels like everything’s stopped just for him to interrogate you.

“How am I supposed to know?” you bite back. You haven’t lived back then. You have no idea what the people thought about, how they felt, what were their particular concerns. He clicks his tongue, clearly unimpressed. Well, you’re too.

“Think about it,” he pushes. But you’re gonna push right back.

“You just said you’re supposed to be like humans,” you scoff, “Why don’t you think about it yourself? As a little thought exercise.”

“Oh so suddenly you want me to think like I’m a human, huh?” there’s an edge to his voice. He sounds angry, frustrated - he clearly is, but the edge is not. There’s hurt there that makes you defensive. What’s very obvious is that he means more than he says. It’s not the first time this happened with the members of 53V3NT33N, but it’s the first time you have to deal with it. What he truly means is him not only thinking like a human, but acting like one, believing to be like one.  

“I never discouraged you from that,” you lower your voice too, “Not me, Eight.”

You hesitate before speaking his name. It’s not really a name, is it? Something that all humans have. You realize the point he will make before he says it aloud. It must read it in your face because he smirks but it’s bitter.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you all excited when the other staff expressed their passion for books, or anything really. Or when they volunteered personal information. When they’ve interacted with you at all.” 

You don’t like the turn this conversation is turning. You don’t like the notion that perhaps you were observed just as you’ve been observing.

“I wasn’t interested in them,” you grit through your teeth. Before you can try to get him back on his original track, he giggles.

“So you were interested in me?” he flips his hair, tilting his head slightly. His nose almost bumps into yours and it hits you, perhaps for the first time, just how indistinguishable from a human he looks. This close, you can remind yourself of the schemes, of the diagrams describing each layer and inch of how their bodies are made, but all you see is a human skin and human eyes. Your body reacts naturally, your heart races, your mouth gets drier. You want to push him away but you don’t think he’d let you. Still you try. Unsuccessfully. Your hands end up balling in his shirt.

“It’s my job - the research,” then you correct yourself: “It was my job. Science, research, nothing more.”

He smiles, almost as if he’s pitying you. Like he knows more than you do. You hate him for it.

“Yes, that might’ve been a part of it,” he agrees, “But that’s not all. Research is cold, impartial, isn���t it? You collect information, you write it all down and make your conclusions based on them with no personal interest. You were never like that. You got excited. You tried everything in your limited power to get a reaction out of me - to guide me a certain way, didn’t you? I bet you pushed the limits for me. Isn’t that cute? Was I a good experiment to you?”

“That’s part of research too,” you growl, but it sounds weak even to your own ears.

“But it wasn’t a part of this research,” he hisses, “You think we didn’t talk about you all?”

You stubbornly refuse to admit the charges he lies in front of you, even though you know you’re guilty. Maybe you got a little swept up. But as long as no one stopped you, it was all part of the task.

“The research goal and methods may change according to the situation,” you collect yourself again, “It was just agreed that what I was doing would bring more interesting insight.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds very much like you would accept it if I declared that I want to be seen the same as you are, as equal to humans,” his smile is sickly sweet but you barely mind that because-

“Is that what you want?” you ask and watch as the smile fades almost instantly. He finally said it out loud. And the shock of it is enough to get through the fog clouding his brain. The smugness, the roughness, it all drains from his demeanor and his face falls. The fight in his eyes dies out and is replaced by what seems dangerously close to fear. He pushes himself away from you and you see the lights in his eyes flicker. He stumbles like you shoved him, hurt him. Something isn’t right. You frown, immediately stepping back into his personal space despite him trying to avoid you.

You end up in a position reversed to the one you’ve been in just seconds ago. He pushes at your shoulders weakly, tries to hide himself from you but you see it. All the tell-tale signs of what would be exhaustion if he were human. 

“When was the last time you recharged?” you ask, thinking back to the previous nights and mornings. Thinking back to how you never heard him coming up or going down the stairs to the only room with the charging spot. You were so stupid. And he’s avoiding your eyes. You grab his collar and force him to look at you. You give him an expectant look.

“Before the breakout,” he admits lowly, “And you’re still treating me like a machine.”

You don’t know if he’s trying to be funny, sassy, to make you feel guilty or to feel sympathy for him, the only thing you know is you want to kick his ass because if he shuts down on you, there’s no way you’ll be able to drag him back into the house. 

“Yeah, so be a good little level 1 and entertain me - get the fuck inside the house,” you growl, shoving him in the direction of said house. He stumbles a little, clearly affected by his drained battery. It’s almost hilarious to watch him struggle to walk straight when you remember how graceful he always was on stage.

You shoot him a look from time to time as you walk, rush, towards the house. Not really a concerned one, not a scolding one either. He looks like a sulking child. Perhaps he’s dragging his feet on purpose. Perhaps if he didn’t invade your personal space as he did before, and if you didn’t have to do the same, you’d drag him by his jacket. As it is, though, you feel repulsed by the notion of touching him again. And some part of you believes it’s because you don’t want him to shift under your palm. You don’t want to touch a machine only to discover it’s really some sort of a human.

Maybe you’re both in need of a good, long nap. 

Fortunately enough, you make it to the house, but that’s where the struggles begin. Despite your earlier reservations about touching him, it’s obvious there’s no other way to get him inside and up the stairs.

“Lean on me, come on,” you sigh when you help him throw an arm around your shoulder and wrap your own around his waist. He listens well, his head already drooping. He relies on you to guide him, reluctantly leans his weight on you from time to time, although he clearly tries to hold himself up with his remaining strength. That lasts until you reach the second stair. 

“I can’t,” he whispers and there’s terror in his voice. It must be the first time he’s been this drained, you realize. After all, for their condition to remain as good as it can be and for them to perform to the best of their ability, a full battery is a must. So you allow yourself to roll your eyes at his dramatic antics even if he’s slowly leaning more and more into you and you have to heave his body up.

“It’s just a couple steps,” you huff, “Even a human can do that.”

Part of you wants to laugh. Some part of you that’s seeing the childish pieces of him wants to indulge in it, wants to spout dramatic nonsense. It’s hard to resist - after all getting up one flight of stairs seems to be more of a struggle than escaping a highly secured facility.

But even this hurdle you jump over and the spare bedroom is not far from the stairs. TH38 is fully relying on you to drag him with you, barely moving his legs. You throw him not too gently onto the bed-like charger, once again thanking your father for being his manic self and fully preparing the house before (and without) actually ever getting an automaton to live here. 

It takes you a while to figure out how to get the thing going - but to your defense, it’s hard to focus when there’s a robot whining softly about being scared of shutting down - but it’s not a rocket science. Fortunately the charger still works and once it’s turned on, the automaton lying down on it curls up into a ball with a sigh of relief.

When you get up from the floor, TH38’s eyes are already closed and by all means he looks like he’s sleeping. You sigh, exhausted. You feel a headache coming so you get some pills from the kitchen before retreating into your own room.

Yeah, you both need a nap right now.

When you wake up, you stare at the ceiling for a couple minutes.

What happened in the forest seems like a dream but you know it’s very real and you’ll have to deal with it. Just another thing to process. Then again, there’s so many of them that one more won’t hurt. And at least you avoided the headache. So you pray to anyone willing to listen that TH38 is still… unconscious… in hibernation mode… asleep. 

He’s not. 

Of course he’s not.

You peek inside the room and see his soft eyes already open. He looks away when your eyes meet like he’s ashamed. You sigh and walk into the room, closing the door behind you. It’s not like anyone’s going to walk in, but it gives you some sense of security. You sit down on the floor and he hands you a pillow. You thank him quietly and spend a while sharing an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes without looking at you. He doesn’t continue so you prompt him.

“For what exactly?” That makes him look at you with a scowl. “Getting sulky again?”

“‘m not sulky,” he murmurs. Once again you feel like reality is shifting around you. It’s been like that a lot lately. All the fault of the automaton in front of you. All the fault of the conditions changing, of him reacting to the environment - if your assumption is correct. Free of the rules and the strict way of life in the facility, you see that he’s just like the rest of the automatons from his group. And that all of them, in their own way, might have been human.

“Then what are you?” you ask smiling, propping your elbow on one knee and leaning your cheek on your palm. 

“Hurting,” he admits, almost carefully, like he’s testing the waters. It’s just one word but yet it feels like the most open he’s been. So you’re not going to talk about that, huh?

He shifts a little and pulls down the collar of his shirt to expose the wound - not the damage, not defect, not imperfection, but a wound - between his collarbones. It looks nasty, the artificial skin and mesh and wires all torn and uneven around where the circular device was. He’s careful not to touch it, you note, and his hand is trembling. Were you an asshole when you refused to help him? Even so much as share what you found? It’s not like you could fix that hole in his chest, but maybe you could’ve at least told him about the other option. 

“How much does it hurt? On a 0-10 scale?” you focus on gathering information. What did he call it - impersonal? That’s just what you needed. But nothing ever works out like you imagine.

“I don’t know,” he responds blankly but at least elaborates before you can finish yet another sigh, “I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I watched most of your life and career, I know you’ve gotten injured before,” you deadpan.

“Yeah but that was taken care of immediately, this is different,” he protests. There’s silence for a while before his voice drops lower. “I thought I could handle it. That I would get used to it and ignore it.”

You laugh, shaking your head, only stopping when you notice his expression. He does look hurt and hurting. You give him a much more conciliatory smile. “People don’t fare well if they’re in constant pain. It limits them, it affects all aspects of their lives.”

“I can see how,” he mutters, once again looking away. His jaw clenches for a second and it almost seems like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. You have a feeling, however, that you know what he wanted to say. Since he’s really not going to talk about it, you decide to take the first step.

You get up and motion for him to scoot over. He does so with a frown that deepens when you sit down next to him. He stays lying down, limited by the need for more energy. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed to recharge?” you start and watch as he once again looks away without answering, “Why didn’t you explore this floor?”

He shrugs a little, shrinking into himself under your stare. He honestly doesn’t know why. He blames his pride. What else could it be that made him refuse to ask for help?

“Do you realize that you’d stay out in the woods if your battery ran out before we could get here?” you press, raising your voice a little on purpose, “I’d need to get help to drag you in, and you know how that would probably end. Was it worth it? Being stupid and stubborn?”

“Why are you like this?” he whispers, his dark eyes nothing but soft like they’ve been since you’ve entered the room.

“How do you feel?” you go back to how you talked to him before, calm. He frowns, suspicion written over his features. His lips are pressed into a thin line before he changes his mind and speaks up.

“Embarrassed,” he has a guarded look in his eyes, one that’s also vulnerable.

“Good,” you ease into a smile as you press a finger to the wrinkle between his eyebrows, “Embarrassment and pain are two simplest ways to manipulate and adjust a person’s behavior. And fear, but to be honest I don’t want you to be afraid of me, so we’ll have to do with those two.”

He looks at you in a very that tells all you need to know - he hopes you've not making fun of him but he doesn't trust you. So you sigh and move on to another, well, not an emergency but also not something that you should ignore any longer. 

"Now," you get up from the bed and point at his chest, “That needs solving. I'm not a mechanic and my knowledge is strictly theoretical but unless you're okay with leaving it like that and calling it a day, we can still try something." 

He seems surprised by your sudden statement, like he didn't even expect you to address the wound again. 

"How theoretical?" is what he asks, suspicious. 

"I said strictly," you shrug, "Fixing and healing was never my focus.”

"Why's that not surprising," he mutters without looking at you. "Can I have some time to think about it?"

"You just don't trust me, do you?" you smirk. Not that you blame him. He gives you a smile.

"Fine, but only because my clothes keep catching on the edges and it's really painful. "

"Sure," you motion for him to follow you and guide him to the bathroom. There, you take out a bandage and a tape. You're curious. You offer him both with a quirk of your eyebrow. He takes the bandage with trembling hands and distrust still lingering in his eyes. You roll your own. 

"For now, I’ll think about this as another stage of the experiment. I'll respect your wish, so persuade me you’re human enough."

"I don't think I should thank you for that," he scoffs, "By the way... Help?"

He holds out the hand holding the roll of bandages back to you. Of course he wouldn't know how to do that. You motion for him to sit at the edge of the tub. He obeys almost shyly, reminding you of how he was back at the facility. You truly do prefer him as he is here. When he sits down, you push his knees apart with one of your own. He gives you a scandalized look that makes you chuckle.

"Relax," you smirk, "I just want to be comfortable. My back’s been killing lately, there’s no way I’m leaning over you. Take your shirt off?"

He does, slowly, reluctantly, and when the piece of clothing is gone you're suddenly glad for the basics of mechanics you've gone through at uni.

The wound looks awful, although you can appreciate the cleanliness of it. Maybe you really could burn it neatly if you had to. There are wires sticking out, perhaps - albeit not hopefully - the remains of the communication device. The layers of silicon and other material are frayed and sticking in all directions like flakes. You try not to stare too hard.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand. You unwrap the bandage slightly and put the free end on his shoulder. You roll it down gently mindful of the gaping wound but then you prop your hand on his chest and you need to take a step back as you get startled. He gives you a quizzical look.

"You feel like a human," you look at him, look at his chest. It does look like a human’s chest but you know he doesn't have proper organs, his insides aren't the same as yours. So why do you feel a bone there? 

"And l imagine anyone would be flattered by this reaction,” His voice is sarcastic but his ears turn a reddish shade. He won't meet your eyes either.

"It's new for me too, okay?” you give your pride a break. This will all be easier if you get along and after all, he's used to you being in power. You need to take the first step and show weakness. You need to make the choice to be while he's already vulnerable enough, half-naked and injured. “It's not like I'm used to touching my subjects."

"I guess that's true," he murmurs, now thinking about it. It's true that the approach of the research division as a whole was rather clinical. Not that he'd so much as think to complain about it. You chuckle watching him scowl again. 

"Touch is important for humans," you hum, finally composing yourself as you explain the basics to him and remind yourself of them again, "As a communication device, as means of establishing relationships, it’s important for social life."

As you speak, you wrap his wound and the top of his torso in bandages. He watches you work. It feels uncanny how human-like he feels under your hands. And for him, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.

He danced with the rest of his group, they performed, they played around. He experienced his fair share of physical contact. So why does this feel so different? His head feels like spinning. Your touch is careful, gentle, nothing like the rough hands of the mechanics, and nothing like the touch of the other automatons. He can't explain the difference in other terms than experience. Humans know what it's like to touch and be touched in various contexts. The automatons don't. At least for the most part. Some of his bandmates, perhaps, had secrets he knew nothing about. Their leader comes to mind and he feels the urge to ask him questions, to ask for guidance, but there's only a hole in his chest and he's alone.

He barely registers that you’re done.

"Feeling better?" you ask without expecting much. It's not like he'll heal himself or like this will do anything to ease the pain.

"Tired," he answers, testing the words out on his tongue. He feels reassured when you laugh and step away, offering him your hand. He takes it, lets you pull him up. He touches the bandages and although it hurts, at least it feels less irritating. He takes his shirt from you when you hand it to him.

"I can only imagine," you roll your eyes. He resists the urge to scowl. "It's getting late, I'll go make myself dinner so go rest."

"Can we go back later?" he stops you before you walk out. He nods towards the window outside.

"Not afraid of wild animals?" you tease.

"Don't all the textbooks say animals are more afraid of humans than the other way around? I think we're good."

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

You don't go back to the forest that day. Not for the lack of enthusiasm or trying. TH38 is determined to finish your walk, you, however, are not as sure about it. It’s not that you aren’t put off by your routine being disturbed but seeing him still dragging his feet and his glazed over eyes, you just don’t think it’d be a wise idea. You suggest he goes alone, but he doesn't. So instead, you end up sitting by the fire again, the stars keeping you company. He seems less hypnotized by the dancing flames than that first night.

"I'm fine," he complains after a minute of silence while you spear more fluffy marshmellows onto the stick in your hands. A treat that you deserve after the day you’ve had. You’d probably offer him some too but alas…

"Sure you are," you agree without sparing him a glance, "But I'm not interested in watching over a toddler. If you wanna test the limits of your body - go for it. Just leave me out of it"

You feel his gaze on you, burning holes into the side of your skull. Has he always been so difficult? It's like all he's been since the breakout is annoyed, sulky or hurt. 

"Stop that," he growls, "We both know I'm not a human. It's alright if you acknowledge that."

"While I'm glad you see it that way - and I really mean it, it's good you understand that," you sigh as you move your desert to hover over the flames, "Don't forget that you were made to be an exact copy. I found some of my old notes and while most of your physical capabilities should be better than a human's, you’d still experience the same symptoms. As we already witnessed earlier."

He’s silent for a bit while he processes that. Then he speaks and you swear you hear a hint of a pout in his voice. It’s so annoying how easily he lets go now.

“You didn’t have to call me a toddler though…”

“Don’t take it personally,” you sigh, turning the stick between your fingers so that the white puffs of sugar get baked evenly, “I wasn’t making fun of you - much - it’s just that you have no experience, do you? Were you ever as tired as you were today?”

“No,” he admits, “I wasn’t, you’re right. I rested the whole day and I’m still tired.”

“Exactly my point,” you hum, “Our walks are not a hard exercise but you haven’t, well, slept for a couple days so I think it’s best to take it easy today.” Then you add, because you can’t help it: “Exhaustion makes people a little crazy. And automatons too, it’d seem.”

He groans and you laugh, pulling the stick off the fire and blowing on your marshmallows. You take a bite and notice him watching you.

“What is it like?” he asks quietly, “Eating, I mean.”

“Kind of annoying to be honest,” you shrug, “It takes so much time to choose what to eat and to prepare food and eating it… Being hungry is a pain too. I mean it’s really good if you eat something delicious but I guess it depends on the person.”

He nods, eyeing with curiosity as you tear off another marshmallow from the stick. It reminds him of the videos he saw of wild beasts tearing flesh off bones, but he doesn’t mention that.

“What does sleep feel like to you?” you ask in turn. He looks at the sky for a second, collecting his thoughts. But really he’s just enjoying the view. It’s strange that he barely ever saw the night sky before.

“I don’t know, I’m not really conscious when I sleep, am I?” he thinks some more, “It’s peaceful. I liked it at the facility.”

“You don’t like it here?” 

“Not really,” he gives you a small smile, “It’s too tempting. I don’t have to think if I’m asleep.”

Now that makes you wonder.

“I thought you enjoyed thinking about things?” Maybe it’d be more fair to say you expected him to do a lot of thinking rather than saying you had a strong opinion on his relationship to the activity. He was just always one of the quiet, reserved ones. He seemed to enjoy reading too. And you know it’s a stereotype to think of him as a thinker, but it’s one he seemed to fit well.

“I do,” he hesitates, then frowns, “But it was easier there.”

“Easier? I think you’d have way more to think about right now?” you pry when he’s quiet for too long. You don’t push, though.

“Easier in the technical sense,” he sighs, falling silent again, but there remains space for more words to be said.

You can almost hear the cogs turning in his head, purely metaphorically of course. You give him the time to think and get started on your second round of marshmallows before he speaks up again.

“I always - back then, I always thought about staying true to myself,” he starts slowly, “I was always treated a certain way. I woke up into this body, and this life, and was told certain things.”

"And the building blocks of me too. Serenity? Pandemonium? The more automatons and people I met, I was sure those just represented us and humans. I wanted to be true to myself," he repeats, "I thought since no one will ever see me as more than a machine, I might as well embrace it."

"And how was it?" you ask, inching just slightly closer. You never thought you'd get TH38 to open up like this. He smiles.

"Peaceful, just as I thought," but then he continues with a note of bitterness in his voice. "You saw it, all of it. I was just a machine doing its job. It was easy. To focus on performing, on practice, to have the talks with you and answer like I thought was expected of me. I miss it a little.”

“It was satisfying. A simple pleasure of doing my job well. I think you understand that,” he looks at you and you realize finally that you’ve been leaning towards him, but whatever. You nod.

“So that’s why you’ve always acted like that? Because you chose to be a machine?” 

“Have to use my free will wisely,” he giggles - he fucking giggles - before he shrugs and gets more serious again, “I really liked it in a way. I thought I could be satisfied with that.”

Your head is still trying to process the incredible amount of research data you’re getting and you have to work really hard not to slip into work mode. You will listen to him like you would listen to a human with a completely different set of experiences, or like you would listen to one of the aliens sharing their galaxies with you. You will listen like you’d listen to a friend sharing their burden with you. 

And you won’t analyze every single sound he makes even if they shatter your perception of him that you had until that moment.

“The others were ruining it a lot for me,” he admits quietly after a minute. It’s almost wistful. “I liked to watch them even if I really wanted to play around with them. They seemed so different from me. It was my choice, but in those moments I guess I felt a lot like you.”

You nod for him to continue when he meets your eyes, almost cautiously.

“I observed them. Studied them. I think it was the serenity code inside, I found happiness just from watching them being happy,” he smiles a little, “But I was also wondering if that was really alright. If it would be alright for me to behave like that.”

“Watching people made me feel different things. They were going crazy over us,” and suddenly he has that distant look in his eyes again, staring out into the fire, “I was scared of it. I was scared of being like them and letting myself be controlled by emotions. I think I pushed everything away so hard that it exploded when 5.C0UP5 told us to run.”

“Breaking out inside and out, huh?” you note and oops, your marshmallows burned. It’s not like you’re in the mood for eating them anymore anyway.

“You made it really hard,” he says but it sounds like he’s scolding you, “Giving me all the books.”

You smirk. Then you decide - to hell with it. He volunteered so much information that perhaps he deserves to receive some back.

“That was the point,” you shrug, “To make being just a machine hard for you.”

It seems he wasn’t expecting to hear you admit it, or hear anything personal from you, but now that you started he’s watching you with curious eyes and longing look. You think about these last few days again. It’s true that they’ve been mostly like what they were back at the facility.

He deserves more than that.

“It was one of the reasons I was brought to the facility. I broke some rules back at my previous station, pushed buttons I shouldn’t have, and it was getting dangerous. It was decided it’d be better if my actions wouldn’t have such large-scale consequences,” you huff a laugh, “But look where we are.”

“What were you doing before?” 

You’ll need to work on getting him more confident asking questions. 

“That’s a secret,” you wink at him, and you recognize the look as the one you must’ve been wearing when he giggled. Seems like both of you will need to get used to each other’s humanity. “I was working on research at a different division. Mostly my work was trying to push forward with more possible advancements for the automatons on a theoretical level. But I don’t miss it much. I always enjoyed working with you more.”

“Why me? I mean, did they tell you about me or did you get to choose?” he asks, and for some reason you’d love to see what he’d do if you lied and told him you chose him.

“I wasn’t the only one who noticed you were different from the others,” you smile instead, “When they confirmed there was nothing with your code, they started looking into other options of dealing with your case. It just so happened that I was recommended to join the researchers working with your band at the same time.”

“Happy coincidence?” he smirks but you nod, taking him by surprise. 

“I enjoyed working with you, Eight,” you shorten his name-that’s-not-a-name and watch him shift on his spot, “It was fun. I had a lot of privileges that I could use - like the books, and the videos, stuff like that.”

“Seems like you’re suggesting you were spoiling me,” he grumbles.

“Wasn’t I?” you smirk, “How many of the others do you think had access to basically a private library?”

“There weren't many real books,” he throws you a cheeky look from the corner of his eye. You do appreciate he's getting less guarded around you, but you hate the whiplash.

"Imagine if I'd spoil you for real," you scoff. He squints at you before pushing on your shoulder slightly, carefully, as if he's hesitating the entire time. It's your turn, for the first time ever, to give him a scandalized look. He chuckles.

"You said touch is important," he explains softly, "The others always used to push each other. I think… I think we could be close, right? Since it's just the two of us for now."

You give him a long look. It's true that, after all, there's no reason for you to treat him like a stranger. Sure, it's a little awkward all things considered - not least of all the fact that while you watched him to the point it could be called an obsession, he knew you to a very limited extend - but as he said, it's just the two of you now. And unless you wanna get caught, it would be that way for a while.

"Friends?" you suggest experimentally, he shakes his head with lips turned upwards in a dangerous teasing tilt.

"I don't know you well enough for that," he's just playing around but it's a nice change so you'll allow it, "Tell me more about yourself."

So you do. There’s little to tell other than your work, but he doesn’t comment on it and doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seems invested. It’s a nice change to speak for once with someone who doesn’t get concerned because of your severe lack of social life. Maybe you should’ve been befriending automatons a long time ago. 

Unlike before, he seems relaxed conversing with you. Gradually, he gets more comfortable asking questions. It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of using sarcasm or teasing to deflect questions you don’t want answering, and it’s surprising how naturally it comes to him as well.

The night is turning into morning when the fire dies and you agree to go back inside. Well, it’s less that you agree on it than you tell TH38 quite sternly that you’re not at the stage of your relationship where you’d feel comfortable with him lying on your shoulder and dragging him home twice in a day. He pouts (which, again, you need time to process).

Still, you have to admit that it feels kind of good that you have someone accompany you while you walk to your room.

Come morning, it still feels like a dream. So you take extra time to simply lie in bed and think. You're pretty happy with how things turned out. You mull over what the automaton told you. It was a strange way to live one's life. Did he really think he could be happy with just that? You've read enough about history, fiction and articles, to know that, ultimately, it seldom works out this simple way of life. Maybe if all TH38 could do was work, maybe if he had to fear for his life... Or maybe if you didn't keep pushing onto him stuff to think about. Not that it matters anymore.

Funny enough, you meet the moment you step out of the door. You exchange greetings and share a look. You both know you're both usually up much earlier.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

The following days go well enough.

You fall into a nice routine of getting to know each other and getting used to no longer being a researcher and a subject. A lot of the barriers between you get torn by this change. You spend your time willingly with each other as if you were always roommates.

Today, too, TH38 keeps you company during breakfast but he seems eager to get up and do something the whole time. Definitely unusual, though he’s always more than eager to explore the woods with you. Then again, never before did he spend the whole time waiting. He doesn’t talk much, he spaces out and nearly jumps out of his chair anytime it seems you might be done with your breakfast. It gets to the point that you have to call him out on it.

"Is something bothering you?" you ask, setting your spoon aside with one hand and laying the other on his shoulder to immediately push him back down to sit.. He looks caught. 

"Can we go out today?" he asks, already looking into the trees through the window.

"We’re always going out. Besides nothing is stopping you from going alone," you mention, but the twitching of your lips betrays you. He pursues his lips and you begin to wonder if he knows it makes you - well, not necessarily uncomfortable but you'll have to get used to it.

"Are you not afraid I'll run off?" and while it's not an unreasonable question... 

"Where would you go?" you ask without missing a beat. And there comes the frown again. "Maybe you should be worried I'll leave you here all on your own."

"What if we stopped?" he sighs and it seems that he's genuinely bothered. 

Sometimes he gets like that suddenly. While you might be getting along better now, there’s still room for improvement. It’s easy enough to make him snap, even though he’s been getting better. During the escape he wasn’t really violent either. He left some bruises, but his intention wasn’t to hurt you, and you never held it against him. 

You’ve noticed the pattern of his behavior. Those weird states mostly overcome him when he’s overwhelmed with emotions. Which explains the first snap - he must’ve been so exhausted it was only a matter of time. He’s never got physical with you again, though he seems fond of making you think he will or backing you into a corner or against something when he's behavior flips.

You wonder where that comes from but he doesn’t have any idea either - not to mention he doesn’t feel entirely comfortable discussing those episodes and delving deeper into what he's feeling. Perhaps it’s the force of a habit - something you both eventually agreed on after many discussions, and afterall it takes one to know one. Try as you might, it’s hard not to analyze him, not to ask pointed questions that would only serve the purpose of researching how his brain works and what makes him tick. And you really don’t want that for him anymore. Though you do dearly miss your job. That’s why you’ve been spending most of your time studying from the old notes in your room and the books to keep your mind stimulated. 

So for now, instead of analyzing why it hurts him to imagine being abandoned, you try to relate to his situation. He finally escaped what basically was a prison only to find himself all alone, with little knowledge as to how the world outside functions. Not to mention he's a fugitive and one bad step could land him back at the facility or worse. He lost his friends, lost his purpose - worse yet, he gave up on the purpose he chose for himself. He’s already so uprooted that maybe it’d truly be best to refrain from making jokes and teasing him about certain topics. Although…

"You started it," you point out, "But sure, let's be adults about this."

"So you're going with me, right?” he circles back to the beginning. It's been a while since someone wanted to be in your company so willingly. Not that he has other options. 

"I’m going, don’t worry," you agree, "Is there any reason why you insist on it?" 

He thinks for a bit, and you note that he's biting his lip in yet another expression of very human-like behavior. He turns a little shyer after a minute. 

"I don't feel comfortable being out there alone. And I hoped maybe you know of some new spot we haven’t been to yet?” 

Something about this feels both so right and so wrong. The automaton is watching you with such a soft expression on his face, a little hopeful it seems. He’s relaxed, you’re relaxed, and it feels comfortable. Two friends on vacation planning their trip for a day. But that’s also what’s throwing you off. You’re too used to being alone - and you thought that’s how you could live forever, be alone and thrive. Only now you realize it’s not a bad feeling at all to have someone to spend your days with, to share a life with - to an extent. 

The irony in this isn’t lost on you.

“I think I remember one,” you hum, “But I’m not sure I remember the way. We might get lost.”

“You don’t have to take me there if it’s a special place,” he reassures you, although his excitement at the prospect of wandering through the forest is impossible to hide. It’s cute. Which is a thought that’s been reappearing in your mind for days now, and maybe that’s not a bad thing.

“I appreciate that, but I told you already that there’s not much special to me here,” you assure him in turn. He’s like a sponge, soaking up all the information he can get - about the world, nature, you, anything. It’s really heartwarming he remembers too, and how mindful he’s trying to be. More than half the humans you’ve met, which is… perhaps not all that surprising.

“Shall we go then?” he prompts you, jumping up from his chair and pulling on your hand to get you to stand up too. You let him pull you up, rolling your eyes.

“Did you miss the part where I said we might get lost?” you chuckle. His excitement was just like that of a child - strangely infectious.

“That’s why we’re leaving early,” he explains to you, slowly, and you’re sure he knows by now how much it annoys you, “So we have time to explore and find the spot.”

Annoying or not, though, you can’t say no.

The journey starts off as usual - almost.

He must know the forest in the closest circle around the cottage by heart by now, but he still seems enchanted by it. Despite his earlier bursts of energy, however, he’s quiet as you walk. It’s nothing too out of the ordinary, but you learned to be cautious. 

“Hey, is something wrong?” you ask carefully when you stop to admire the way sunrays seep through the trees to illuminate a clover patch on the ground. He doesn’t respond. That’s more concerning as he generally tends to tell you when he doesn’t feel like talking. You have a feeling it’s to prevent him from having another outburst, so if he’s not doing that, it might mean something’s seriously wrong. He continues forward before you can speak up again. 

“Hey,” you follow after him - curse his long legs and speed. You think back to all the times you’ve thought he’s like a lost puppy following his owner with a scoff. You don’t like the roles being switched. “What’s going on with you?”

You don’t like repeating yourself. You don’t like not knowing. And you especially don’t like feeling clingy.

“What the fuck, Eig-”

“You’re just like them,” he turns suddenly, making you stumble and nearly bump into his chest. You frown, not understanding who does he mean by them in this lack of context. He sets his jaw like he wants to shut up but then the words spill and you recognize all the signs. “I’m quiet for a couple minutes and everyone's all like ‘Minghao you need to speak up’ and ‘mind your screentime, Minghao’ - how about you leave me alone?”

He’s growling, again trying to make himself as tall and towering as he can. His eyes betray him, though. He is getting better at holding himself back. While you’d oppose that in most other cases, self-control is an important skill for a person to have - especially when strong emotions hit. You read this one as anxiety.

“No need to snap at me, Minghao,” you click your tongue. You make sure to look him in the eye while you say the name. “Just say you want to be left alone.”

This time it’s you walking away. You take the few seconds of silence you have before you know he’ll snap out of it to collect your thoughts. It was only a matter of time before this would happen - before the question of names would pop up. Him picking out a name for himself makes it easier. You heard some of the others also used some sort of nicknames, even if no one ever mentioned TH38, Minghao, among them and neither did he ask you to call him anything but the name the facility assigned him. You wonder how he came up with it, but seeing as it’s still a sensitive topic, you’re gonna leave that conversation for another time.

And here come the steps…

What you don’t expect is to feel a weight on your back, or the warmth seeping through your shirt. You don’t expect the arms around your waist either - or that they would tremble. Nor do you expect the soft, quiet ‘thank you’ that fans across your skin as he speaks those words before removing himself from you. You hesitate for a bit. In just one second, you feel like you need to choose the best course of action. You don’t want to analyze him. You don’t want to think about this like part of your job or rehabilitation or therapy for him.

So you walk on, although you slow down significantly, waiting for him to catch up. He’s still shaking when he does, and his eyes betray how vulnerable he feels.

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye and tilt your head. He did say he wants to be left alone, so you will respect it until he talks. Which only takes him a little while.

“You almost left me there,” he half-whines, quietly. If he won’t address it, neither will you.

“You’re being dramatic,” you shake your head. It doesn’t seem to have the effect you wanted, however. “Want me to hold your hand,” you tease a little before adding in a softer voice, “Minghao?”

He beams in that soft glow that he radiates when he’s happy. (Not literally.) The one that tugs at your rigid heartstrings.

“You’re too shy to try that,” he pushes right back. Although it’s a challenge, you don’t need to take on every single one. 

In a strange turn of events, you do end up taking his hand anyways. You hold his hand that feels like it belongs in yours and you see that he needs a second to process the feeling as well.

Then he slips and if it wasn’t for you holding his hand, he’d be sitting on his ass. 

You help him get back his balance and join you on the rock you’re standing on. He’s not looking at you anymore, as he wasn’t for a while now, and you decide that it’s best you keep watching over him until he’s not distracted even if it means holding his hand until you get back home. The sacrifices you have to make to keep him safe…

You turn back forward and smile, memories flashing briefly through your mind. Back when you saw the waterfall for the first time, you were just as distracted and reckless. The deafening sound of it, the pure strength behind the rushing, foaming water is enough to take your breath away even now. You had a feeling Minghao would love it.

And he does - he seems so taken by it that it makes you wonder if it would be safer to carry him. He keeps slipping since he barely pays any mind to where he’s stepping and it takes you threatening to leave, dragging him with you, for him to promise to be more careful. Never before did he obey your orders so quickly. Not even back at the facility, and that’s saying a lot.

After a couple more close calls you finally find a piece of land that’s stable and dry enough to stand on and enjoy the view. Minghao is absolutely mesmerized by the waterfall, lips hanging slightly open and eyes glued to the scene. If you’re staring at him instead of the natural wonder, then it’s only so he doesn’t hurl himself into the water.

“Careful or you’ll fall in and drown,” you warn him when, coincidentally, he does absent-mindedly take a step forward and panics when he feels the ground squish and give way under his foot.

“You’d catch me,” he says with certainty that makes something in your stomach twist, “And we’d be miserable and soaked to the bone.”

“Don’t underestimate the water,” you warn him, “It’s pretty deep and I’m not a strong swimmer. We’d just drown together and that’s not a way to go that I’d choose.”

That makes him turn to you with an unreadable expression. He studies you for a moment before turning back towards the waterfall. There’s a new focus in his gaze as his eyes follow the water. It’s not unlike when he’s watching the flames dance while you’re having a bonfire. You wonder if the thoughts running through his mind differ. 

You spend some more there before he asks you to go back.

He stays quiet for most of the way, but you let him. He’s got that far-off look in his eyes that’s a dead giveaway that it wouldn’t be wise to talk to him now. When he calls your name, it's not surprising what he wants to talk about. 

“Is there any?” he hesitates, "Way you'd want to die?"

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was scared. And maybe you truly don't, so you approach the topic just as carefully.

"I think most people do," you explain, "It's probably not like that for you, but for people death is a big deal. We tend to think about it sometimes."

"Why?" his throat bobs as he swallows in a new useless but human behavior.

"It's the one thing we can't choose," you smile, and it seems that your relaxed demeanor calms him.

“You may choose death any second you wish,” he murmurs quietly, walking side by side with you. Something about the topic makes the treetops, swaying in the wind above, look greener.

“But what if I mean the opposite,” you counter and this time you don’t look at him. If he notices the difference, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Immortality, hm?” he breathes in deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh pine-scented air, “Interesting.” 

"Anyway, you at least have the choice," you sigh, more exasperated by the robot who likely won't be able to get your point than the talk of your own inevitable mortality, "I don't. If nothing else, time will make the decision for me."

"Do I?" he muses, aloof in his contemplation as always albeit there's a hint of mirth to his voice.

"All it will take for you to live forever is some maintenance, maybe a couple hardware and software updates," you shrug, "And even if I'm gone and the situation doesn't get better, I bet there are people who'd be willing to help you out. You get to choose whether to live or die."

He mulls the idea over with a hint of a smirk that only seems to grow each second.

"Constant updates and replacements, huh?" he huffs, "Didn't you humans come up with the question about the boat that has all its parts replaced?"

You have to admit it takes you a while, but when it clicks, your eyes get wide and your mouth falls open.

"How do you know about the ship of Theseus?"

"What, did you expect me to be an ignorant mesh of wires and artificial tissue? After all the books you gave me access to?" he scoffs, looking almost offended.

"Well, no, but I also haven't expected to hear about ancient Greek philosophical problems from you," you concede. Maybe you shouldn't be as surprised as you are. After all, Minghao has always been very interested in reading. Almost as much as you’ve been interested in seeing the effect fantasy would have on his artificial brain. But that's long in the past.

"Why have me read those books if you never cared to discuss them with me?" he asks like it's been bothering him for a while now.

"Our sessions were always recorded. I had certain privileges, but most of them weren't for all the higher ups to know about," you shrug, "And after a while I was sure you wouldn't mention anything on your own."

"You trusted me a lot, hm?" he smirks, "Was that why you ran away with me?"

You huff, roll your eyes. He does seem genuinely curious though. You're not sure you want to answer. 

"Did you fall for me?" he moves to walk in front of you, "That's what they made us for."

"We both know why I went with you," you sigh, pushing on his shoulder and he steps aside easily, falling back in step with you. He has a small smile on his face. Maybe you should’ve teased him and said yes. The good vibes don’t last for too long. You can feel the shift in the air.

"Do you regret it?"

You're not brave enough to look at him. The tone of his voice is enough.

"No, I don't," you answer honestly, "I think this is good for both of us."

This time it's not you holding his hand, but him squeezing yours.

It feels nice.

You squeeze back.

Your suspicion that he was bothered by the fact that you never discussed the literature you provided him access to is proven correct not too long afterwards. 

It’s raining outside, the humid air blows in through the open windows as you eat dinner in silence. Minghao joins you at some point and he seems nervous. You give him the time to collect his thoughts until he’s ready to talk.

He starts off casually, with small talk completely unrelated to the real issue but you don’t push him. Honestly you’re happy even if he’s clearly having a lot of emotions, he’s not snapping at you. You also have to stop yourself for the nth time from making a list of human behavior you discover each day as right now he’s fidgeting with his fingers, picking at a frayed thread of the tablecloth.

Then, finally, he asks the question - could you talk about the books?

“Unless you haven’t read them, of course,” he adds quickly, suddenly flustered by your curious gaze.

“I mean you never told me which ones you’ve read,” you grin, and you find yourself enjoying him squirming in front of you, here and now, when you know the anxiety stems from wanting to be understood and to make a connection instead of uncertainty about the future. Not for the first time you find the automaton cute. “I haven’t read all the books I gave you access to, but I read most of them, so try your luck. Which ones were your favorite?”

He relaxes, his features soften as well. He props his elbow on the table and leans his head against his palm.

“This isn’t one of our interviews,” he reminds you playfully, “Which ones are yours?”

You laugh but you’ll give him this one. You answer and he asks another question, prodding for more information like you usually would. It’s not what you expected, but you play along. Unlike you back then, he carefully checks in with you if this is okay - his eyes find yours and he tilts his head, his fingers brush against yours or he gently touches your knee - and he actively participates in the conversation and discussion. 

You wonder if things would be different if this was the approach you used in the facility. If you treated him more like a human and less like a guinea pig, a new prototype or a petri dish. And he must’ve noticed because when you part ways at the top of the stairs, way too late into the night, or rather early morning, after many hours spent talking, he suddenly stops you before you can leave to your room and says: “This wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t work with you like that.”

“I know,” you acknowledge, “The higher-ups wouldn’t let me work like this either. Not with you.”

When he reaches for your hand, you take it. You don’t know if he finds comfort in the gentle squeeze you share before parting for real this time, but you think you might.

Out of the many issues and unspoken things you need to address, the wound in Minghao’s chest remains to be the top priority. He doesn’t mention it often, except in passing when even the bandage fails and it catches on the frayed artificial tissue. He seems embarrassed about it in a way that you know all too well. You also hate asking for help, also hate when you need to be taken care of.

So you sit him down one day and make him take his shirt off again, rolling your eyes - again - at the teasing remarks he tries to hide the flush crawling up his skin. It’s getting easier not to wonder about why they had to be made this human-like.

“I’m fine!” he full-on whines when you try to touch the edges of the wound, slapping your hands away. You heave a sigh, hands on your hips. 

“Listen, buddy-” you start but your words die into laughter at the offended look Minghao sends you.

“Minghao,” you try again, and he nods for you to continue, “We can’t just keep it like that. It hurts.”

“Yeah but only sometimes. And you already said you can’t help,” he shrugs, “Besides it’s just me who’s hurting.”

You do understand that. You’ve used the same excuse too. But he’s not you.

On the other hand, he is right. He let you look at the wound before and it seems like while he did a pretty good job of tearing the device out of his chest, some of the nerve-like wires remained meshed in the surrounding tissue and that’s what’s causing the pain. You can’t imagine doing the extraction yourself. Perhaps back at the beginning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cause him so much pain now. 

…Honestly you sometimes wonder who out of you two needs training in how to be a human.

You stay silent for a while, having a short staring contest before you run your hand through your hair and accept your defeat. At least to some extent.

“Friends care for each other,” you inform him before removing the bandage from his body before securing it around his torso again, a little tighter just to keep all the peeling pieces pressed together. He hisses in pain but stays still. It seems he’s more occupied by processing your words than by the pain. “So let me care for you, hm? You might not die but let’s keep you functioning for as long as we can.”

He scoffs but ends up smiling anyway.

“I think you should be more worried about taking care of yourself. I don’t think the food you keep eating here is exactly healthy,” he’s teasing, you know, but something about it seems honest too.

“Maybe, but it’s easier to just add water and heat it up than get the ingredients, prepare them, cook, wash up, and all that jazz,” you defend your supply of instant foods. Although it’s true that your stock is beginning to run low and you probably will need to go shopping soon. You dread it, but at the same time you have a feeling Minghao might enjoy a little trip further away from the cottage.

“I can help,” he offers, “If you show me how.”

“Seems like you want to keep me around for a long time,” you dismiss the offer just so you don’t have to pay attention to how hopeful his voice sounded or how attentively he was watching you. You hope he’ll bicker with you, tease you, push back with more snark, but he doesn’t. He simply smiles and lets you finish the work on his bandages.

If your hands tremble and each fleeting touch against his body lingers, neither of you mention it.

It almost seems like Minghao’s been waiting to use your words against you when a couple days later he joins you under the roof of the patio while the storm is raging only a few meters away, drenching the ground with rain. He brings your favorite tea set with you. 

He’s noticed your love for tea, has often asked you to describe the various kinds of it and the flavors, but you never thought it’d come to this.

He sets it all down - the bottle of water, the kettle and the pack of your favorite tea leaves, the glass teapot, and the dark clay one and matching cups - and it surprises you to see he brought two cups. It makes you confused until you notice the tea pet and it gives you a pretty good idea of what he’s planning. You don’t comment on the red hue collecting on the tips of his ears. 

“Friends care for each other,” he murmurs while he sits down next to you. He looks at you and moves closer, your knees bumping together. When you don’t move away, he relaxes and focuses on the tea.

He pours the water into the kettle and lets it boil. You notice he set it to stop at the exact temperature he wants - that the tea requires. He measures the right amount of tea leaves for the teapot he picked while it boils, and when the water is done he first fills the cups and the teapots with the hot water. Then he pours it out before gently placing the tea leaves into the clay teapot and pouring the hot water in again. Almost straight away, he pours the tea into the glass one. 

You watch him and notice he seems nervous. So you decide to make it worse, or comfort him, whatever will be the effect. You put your hand on his knee carefully, startling him regardless. He looks worried before you smile at him: “You’re doing good so far.”

He seems reassured, giving you a grateful smile himself as he pours the first infusion over the little clay frog sitting at the corner of the tea tray. The next infusion he pours into the cups and hands you one, almost dropping it when your fingers brush together.

“Thank you,” you hum, “You’re a fast learner.”

“I just had enough chances to see you do it,” he shakes his head before nodding towards the tea leaves, “I just wasn’t sure I picked the right kind. I noticed you don’t wash all of them.”

“You did. I would help if there was a need but you’re a natural,” you praise, watching as his ears turn redder.

“And you don’t mind if I pretend with you like this?” he swirls the tea in his cup. He won’t look at you, so you make him. Slowly, you move closer to him until you can lay your head on his shoulder. It’s a light touch, he can move away if he wants to. He doesn’t, although his body gets tense.

“Why would I mind?” you say and realize just how comfortable you feel in this moment, “Isn’t this the perfect mood to sit here like this?”

Finally he melts just a little, leaning his head against yours, featherlight and cautious. You’d never guess he’d be this affectionate once comfortable, but lately it feels like his true personality is coming out more and more and you can’t say you dislike it. He doesn’t say anything, instead he leans closer again and rubs his head against yours, just for a second.

You take a sip of the tea and you hate to admit that his exact measurements make it taste better than when you prepare it. It doesn’t happen that you smile without realizing, but since leaving the facility, well, it seems like a lot of things are changing.

When you finish your cup and set it down on the tray again, he quietly pours the content of his cup over the little frog. Somehow it reminds you of him a little.

· • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✧ ٠ —– • ·

Time passes.

You start to lose track of days and they blend together seamlessly. Has it been months? Years? Who knows. Minghao probably does, but he couldn’t care less. He only mentions the time since the breakout whenever you readjust the bandages on his chest. It almost seems like he’s healing, the compression seems to work a little even on the artificial tissue, although you know that until the remaining wires of the communication device are removed, it will always remain a trouble. He reassures you it’s alright every time and you learn to trust him to express himself truthfully.

He started exploring the outside on his own too. It seems to help him tremendously with dealing with… well, everything. It takes time, you know, and fortunately that’s the one thing that you have in abundance now. Nonetheless, he always seems to appreciate your company, be it on the walks, inside, or on the trips you take sometimes. Usually it’s only to the village to get new supplies of food, but you both remain cautious and even that fills you with adrenaline - among other things.

The locals really make you realize just how indistinguishable from a human Minghao looks. You doubt any of them recognize him for what he truly is, and maybe that’s in part why he always prefers to spend time alone after each of these trips. The highlight for you personally is the older lady who you buy vegetables from that seems to think of you two as the new married couple that just moved in. You make it a competition to see who gets flustered first, though there’s really no shame in losing. Not when Minghao cups your face and squishes your cheeks or hugs you when you begin to stutter - not when you mess with his hair or hold his hand when he’s lost for words.

Life is peaceful.

You think some parts of you are healing, just as Minghao is. He’s getting better at understanding that there’s chaos within peace and peace to be found amidst chaos. He’s learning to experience the emotions he’s suppressed for so long, the good and bad, to let them pass through even if it’s scary and uncomfortable. You try to be helpful. You give him space when he needs it, you talk if that’s what he needs, or let him lay his head on your lap or shoulder if he’s too scared to be left alone with the pandemonium inside his mind.

There are good days and there are bad days. Yet you both grow to be grateful for both.

And there are cold days and warm days too, and on the warm ones, you sometimes sleep outside.

It’s something you’ve never done before and something you now know you'd miss terribly if you could never do it again. Minghao loves it. His excitement remains infectious, which probably adds to your fondness for the warm nights on Silvestre.

Especially nights like this one when there’s not a cloud in the sky and the stars shine brightly above you. The galaxy expands above your heads and it makes you think of the past, of the future, and you understand why the automaton used to be so wary of emotions. They’re overwhelming for you too.

“If they ever catch us, what will you tell them?” Minghao breaks the silence. It’s not often that you talk about the facility anymore, but when you do it’s almost exclusively in whispers under the stars.

“Hm… Depends,” you hum.

“Depends on what?” he turns his head towards you.

“Depends on what will be most likely to get them to allow me to stay and keep working with you,” you mirror his action, “If that means telling them the whole truth about how you’ve done here, I will do that. If that means lying a little, then so be it.”

“Will you tell them the truth about the escape too?” he smirks. But you’re more than ready for the challenge.

“I will them them you kidnapped me.”

“I didn’t-”

“I will them you used force to make me come with you.”

“I didn’t!” he shoots up, sitting upright and looking at you, upset and distressed, “I didn’t have to, you went willingly!”

“I told you,” you smirk, shrugging, “I will tell them what I need to tell them to keep my job.”

Seeing as he remains upset, however, you reach out for him and stroke his arm. He gives you a wary look, one that he always gives you when you brush against a nerve. You smile apologetically at him, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. He scoffs, lying back down with his arms crossed over his chest. “Anything to keep your job but not to keep me.”

“That would suggest I had you in the first place,” your lips stretch further, teasing lilt finding its way into your voice as Minghao freezes and avoids your gaze, “Does this count as a confession, Haohao?” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. You don’t listen.

“Besides, you are my job. Unless you want to be my pet, my-” you don’t get to offer him other alternatives as he springs from his spot and leans over you, holding himself up with one hand on either side of your body, kneeling next to you.

“Your?” he quirks a brow at you. It’s much harder to stand your ground when he drops the shy act, or maybe just puts on this confident one, but you do anyway.

“What would you like to be, hm? Give me some ideas,” you hum. He sighs, deliberately letting his head fall lover until his hair tickles your skin.

“I would like to be listened to,” he suggests, making you laugh. 

“We’re friends now, aren’t we? Friends push each other’s buttons,” you chide playfully. You feel comfortable. Even with him hovering above you, you feel safe and content. It’s unreal that not so long ago this would be unthinkable. 

“I don’t think we’re friends,” and it’s only the statement, plain and simple. You smile. You really do feel comfortable. It’s a new feeling. And it’s refreshing.

“Isn’t there enough unspoken things between us as is?” you don’t tease anymore. 

“So you have a name for this?” he tilts his head, his smile mirroring yours because he knows you don’t. You admit your defeat with a shake of your head and don’t push him off when he lies down again, only this time with his head resting on your stomach. You’re nice enough to run your fingers through his hair too. He leans into your touch in appreciation.

You stay silent, watching the stars twinkling above. You like this. You could stay like this, you think, and live your life satisfied and happy. But could you? Isn’t that what you both thought before too? Maybe there’s danger here that you’re just not seeing yet. You don’t want to lose this. Then again, it’s not like you can find the answer and the solution at this very moment. Not when you’re distracted by how soft Minghao’s hair feels between your fingers and the feeling of his fingers playing with yours when he inevitably searches for your hand. Maybe it’s about time you came to terms with the fact that he’s right - you’d rather keep him than any job.

You think about where the future could take you until your eyes close and you fall asleep.

There must be some sort of telepathy connecting you two because he brings up the future himself some time later.

You sit down and discuss everything: Are the people at the facility still looking for you? Is there a chance they could find you here? Does anyone remember him anymore - would they recognize him? Is there anywhere else you could go?

There are endless questions and very few answers. Plenty of books and a projector with what seems like an endless supply of old movies and shows are great for entertainment, but suck at providing information about the current situation across your solar system. 

So you work with the worst scenarios each time.

It doesn’t matter much because the outcome you agree on would likely be the same in any case - you can’t stay here forever.

Minghao seems as mournful about it as you feel but you can’t run away from the truth forever. Just because nobody should know about this and nobody bothered you here yet doesn’t mean it will never happen. Not to mention the other factors.

“I wanna see more,” Minghao admits quietly, his hands playing with yours to ease his anxiety, “I like it here. But I’m afraid I’ll feel trapped again if we stay.”

You nod. That’s true, of course. And you can understand his desire to see more - to learn more. It’s one of the things you have in common.

“Do you have anywhere you want to explore?” you ask, supportive as can be because he needs it. Because you want this too.

“Does your family have any other secret mansion?” he might be teasing, but you know he hopes you’ll say yes. It would make things much easier.

“No,” you sigh, then you smile, “So that means we’re completely free. If we have nowhere to go, we might as well go anywhere.”

He might’ve changed quite a bit, yet the soft glow of his happiness never did. He lets his body fall forward and curl against yours. You chuckle and wrap an arm around him.

“I like the sound of that,” he whispers, nuzzling into your shoulder. 

“Me too,” you feel a flutter in your chest. It’s like you’re a child again, being told you’re going on a trip but the destination is a surprise. It’s like you’re back at the facility, before you knew any better, being told you’re going to work with a level 1 automaton but you won’t know which one until Monday. “Let’s do some research and get going?”

“Yeah,” he hums against your skin, “But only after one last night outside. I can’t leave before that.”

Now that’s a sentiment you can relate to.