#i have never once organised my books in some sort of system | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words, pt.4

A/N: Hello, angels! I hope you’re all safe and healthy! Next instalment is here, and I’m very excited for what’s coming. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy, too! Love to you all! (I hope I haven’t forgotten to tag anyone but if I did, I’m really sorry!)

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, swearing, brief alcohol mention, bit of spice (reminder: this fic is 18+), Frankie being the tease he is

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.5 / pt.6

Your lips were still tingling when you woke the next morning, eyes fluttering open and a smile creeping onto your face as the events from last night replay through your mind for the millionth time. Frankie had been on your mind the entire drive home, the tenderness of his first kiss kicking your heart into double time, and the pure unrestrained passion of the kiss that followed hitting a far lot lower.

Was it possible for a first date to go as well as it did? There wasn’t a single moment in your time spent with Frankie that had you unsure about his character or intentions.

Benny had actually done it. He had found you a guy you really liked. Is Hell freezing over?

You reach for your phone as you slip from bed, stretching leisurely as you make your way to the kitchen, and finding Benny’s contact before pressing ‘call’. It takes a few rings, until his drawl finally greets you through the phone.

“Did you puke?” is his immediate answer and you roll your eyes, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you putter around your kitchen putting some breakfast together.

“No, you asshole.”

He laughs. “He’s that whipped, he’d probably thank you.”

What? What does that mean? Has Frankie spoken to Benny? Did he talk about last night? What did he say? Did he think it went as well as you did? Shit. Calm down. You try to steady your suddenly quickening pulse, a pleasant flutter consuming your stomach as you attempt to sound casual.

“Oh? Has he said something?”

Benny’s voice is sly, teasing – he knows you far too well. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

“Maybe I’m sitting next to him right now. And maybe he’s sitting here blushin’ like a little –” Benny grunts suddenly, seemingly in pain, and the phone crackles as he shifts on the other end, “don’t fuckin’ kick me. Anyway, Fish wants to know what you’re wearing.”

You hear him then, raspy voice piping up in the background with an aghast ‘What?! No–’ and then there’s more scuffling, more grunts of pain, and Benny’s snort of laughter.

“What are you even doing up?” Benny redirects his attention to you after a few minutes of bickering with Frankie, words muffled as he talks around whatever food he has rolling around his mouth. He had noted the early time when your face had flashed over his screen, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten you up and out of bed so early on a day off.

You shrug lightly, even though he couldn’t see it, and prepare your pancake batter. “Just couldn’t sleep in.”

He’s quiet, chewing thoughtfully and then asking softly, “You okay?”

“Yeah – I’m fine, just bored sitting at home. For some reason, I wanted to see what you were up to and if you wanted to hang out, but you’re busy so never mind.”

Benny laughs, “Aw, you missin’ me, angel?” he teases.

“Ugh, I take it back. I’d rather sit here in silence and stare at my wall.”

You can hear him laughing even as you pull your phone away and press the red button, shaking your head and smiling to yourself.

A week passes by before you even know it, work taking over much of your week, and much to your delight, Frankie had eagerly organised another night to meet up. You had talked all week of course – a phone call every evening once Mena had been put down for the night, texts here and there throughout the day, and when he had asked if you were free at all over the weekend, you had agreed without a second thought.

Eagerness buzzes through your system the entire day of the date and the drive to the restaurant, a much welcome change from the anxiety riddled one before. It was a breath of fresh air.

Frankie was waiting for you, as he said he would, leaning against the wall of the restaurant and a smile immediately widening his features when his eyes find you.

This time there was no hesitation, no voice in the back of your mind wondering how to tackle the situation. As soon as you saw him – you couldn’t help yourself – you were in his arms and giving him a soft kiss in greeting. Pleasantly surprised, he smiles against your lips, arms winding around your waist, and the electric tingles that rocket up from your palm when his rough hand gently takes yours has your heart going wild in your chest.

It’s dinner instead of drinks this time, and the two of you squeeze yourselves into one side of the leather booths, instead of sitting opposite each other. You order quickly, and sip at your beer while you listen to Frankie talk about his week, the conversation soon moving in all sorts of directions as you wait for your food.

“How could you not?” You cry at one point, slapping a hand on the table and watching his shoulders shake as he laughs, stomach twisting at the pleasant sound of it. “The universe is huge – like, huge. We are not alone.” You say ominously, and he laughs harder, head hitting the back of the booth.

“Where’s the proof?”

“What?”

“The proof! If it’s so big and we’re not the only ones here, where is everyone?”

“It’s a cover up.” You sniff indifferently, sipping your drink and fighting the twitches threatening to turn your pursed lips into a smile. “Oh my god, you were in the military – are you in on it?”

He’s struggling to breathe, cheeks aching under the grin stretching his features and stomach starting to cramp. “In on what?”

“That’s it! You’re part of the cover up!”

“Yeah, you’ve got me. I was actually a part of a crew chasing away UFO’s.”

No longer able to keep it in, you erupt into a fit of violent giggles, melting over the table top and letting the laughter shake your frame. Frankie watches you fondly, affection flooding his system and causing his insides to warm pleasantly.

He was still trying to work out how he was here, with a beautiful woman, having great conversations, fun conversations, and laughing more than he had in… shit… a long time. It was refreshing and, if he were completely honest with himself, slightly nerve-wracking. Nothing ever stays so perfect, and that thought had him ensuring he was enjoying every second he could with you before you inevitably realised you were incredibly out of his league and went looking elsewhere.

But… how could you ever? When you peak up at him, you can’t help but study the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his dimples deepen in his cheek, and you honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere else in the world you’d rather be. It was… scary. You’d only known him a couple of weeks, and you were feeling like this?

The night melts away before you both even know it happens and soon, you’re snatching up the bill before he can move, and walking out onto the street, Frankie’s arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you pressed close up to his side as a sharp late evening breeze sweeps through you both.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Chickens?”

“I’m sorry, but have you ever been chased by a rooster? Those things are fucking vicious, Frankie.”

He grins, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, well what about you?”

“Heights.”

What?

You frown, “But you’re a pilot?”

“I can handle heights if I can control the situation. Flying is easy – I know what to do when I need to do it. It’s when something’s out of my control – falling off a cliff and shit. It’s just… a long way down.” He’s quiet, obviously dwelling on something before he’s shaking his head and smiling, “Do you have a favourite book?”

The short walk to your car takes longer with the leisurely pace you both had unconsciously set, wanting to milk the remaining minutes of the date as much as you could before having to part ways.

“Thank you for dinner.” He spins you into his arms and you laugh quietly, smiling.

“You’re welcome.”

Silence falls over you both as you regard the other.

Frankie… your voice is so quiet, the soft whisper of it dances in his ears, igniting a fire through his veins. He unconsciously presses himself closer, lost in the way your lashes flutter when you look at him. You raise a hand, fingers trailing softly against his jaw and he turns his face into your touch, chasing the feeling of your warm fingertips as they glide up and around his neck.

“Kiss me?”

He smiles, enjoying the way your face scrunches slightly as he nuzzles his nose against yours, “Say please,” he mutters playfully, grin widening when you breathe a quiet giggle.

“Please kiss me, Francisco.”

Oh shit.

You don’t miss the way his face slackens for a brief moment, eyes widening and breath seemingly getting caught in his throat. He swallows, the flicker of a flame that had been burning lowly in his stomach suddenly blazes red hot and then he’s moving, hands cupping your cheeks and claiming your mouth with an intensity that had your knees buckling the second his lips touched yours.

You melt instantly, unable to stop the small whimper that bubbles from your mouth as his tongue traces teasingly along your lip. You open your mouth automatically, tongue immediately sliding greedily along his. His mouth was hot, rough against yours, and the grunt he lets out when your fingers dig into the dark curls at the nape of his neck has a delicious heat shooting to your core, your hips rolling against his.

Fuck. Did you just grind on him?

The sudden stab of panic at potentially going too far is quickly extinguished when his hands fly to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer and keeping you tight up against him while his fingers dig hungrily into your flesh.

The sudden blaring of a car alarm has you both jumping apart and a mile high, Frankie’s hands tightening on you instinctively, and it’s not until you look around that you discover it’s your car making that God awful noise that is ripping your ear drums apart.

“Shit,” you fumble for your keys, quickly pressing the button while Frankie chuckles into the skin of your throat, hands softly rubbing up and down along your waist to calm you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” He grins, not at all remorseful for causing such a big disturbance. “It was probably for the best – any longer and we might’ve been arrested for indecent exposure.” The words are growled playfully against your skin, but you can’t help thinking he wasn’t far from the truth. You laugh, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and placing a final kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Drive safe,” you say as he begins to pull back, and he smiles warmly at you.

“You too.”

You slip into your car, watch him disappear down the street and sigh dreamily, body working on auto-pilot for the drive home while your head remains firmly in the clouds. You could only hope you had actually somewhat paid attention to the road and didn’t miss any stop signs or red lights.

Your phone goes off in your hand when you eventually walk through the door to your apartment, and you read the text as you shrug off your jacket. Your eyes have to read it back and forth a few times before the words actually sink in, and then you’re holding it to your chest, delicately cradling the device while you rest heavily on your door, heat flushing along your cheeks.

I’ve thought about whether or not I should say this the entire drive home, but fuck it... miss you already.

Well, fuck.

Delivering a sharp little karate chop to the remaining flat cushion on your couch to fluff it, you place it with the others and then neaten the edges of the blanket hanging over the back, casting one final glance around your apartment and trying to imagine seeing it through a visitor’s eyes.

Clean.

Really clean.

Frankie was picking you up for a ‘mystery date’, which meant – naturally – you had spent the entire day scrubbing every surface in your apartment until it looked like you semi-had your life together. Did you inhale more bleach than what is probably considered healthy? Most definitely. Do you regret it? No. Will your apartment ever be this clean again? Also probably a no.

Checking the time, you’re startled to see how long you had spent fluffing fucking pillows and chant curses as you run to your room, kicking the clothes you rip off under your bed to deal with later and quickly pulling on the outfit it had definitely not taken you two hours to decide on. Your eyes dart to the alarm clock next to your bed when a knock on the door echoes throughout your small home.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he’s on time –

God, why can’t he just show up half an hour late like the others? You immediately regret giving him the code to your building… that could’ve bought you an extra few minutes.

Stupid perfect face with his stupid perfect punctuality –

You open the door with a grin, hoping your forehead doesn’t look as sweaty as it feels, face softening when you find Frankie standing on the other side with a little potted houseplant cradled in his palms. He sees your eyes fall to it curiously and holds it out to you, your fingers brushing his when you carefully take it from his hands.

“You said flowers make you sad when they die, so…” he shrugs lightly, a gentle smile curling his lips.

Oh.

Emotion claws at your throat as your fingers trace the patterned leaves softly. Not only had he paid attention and actually listened to you during your many conversations, he had gone out of his way to find you a gift you could nurture, one that wouldn’t inevitably end up in the trash after a week or two of blossoming.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, clearing your throat quietly before glancing up at him, shy and overwhelmed by the wave of adoration that inundates you.

“Thank you, Frankie. I love it.”

And he knows you really do. He can hear it in your voice, sees the gratitude shining in your eyes. He follows you as you turn back into your apartment, eyes following you fondly as you walk around, eyeing potential places to situate your new addition.

“I think he looks good there.” You say, turning to confirm his approval over your shoulder after you situate it in the middle of your small dining table. He smiles, nodding his support and watching you turn back to look at the plant, taking his own little minute to admire you and the way you look bathed in the bright afternoon sun shining through your windows.

Fuck. He was captivated, completely infatuated by someone he had only known, what – three weeks? He should be nervous, should be alarmed that such strong feelings had developed so quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than joy – hope. Maybe this could be it, you and him. Endgame.

Fuck. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

His arms open automatically when you saunter up to him, enveloping you into a warm embrace while you press an appreciative kiss to his cheek.

“So, this mystery date,” you say, pulling back to gaze up at him while your hands wrap loosely around his neck, “will I need a jacket?”

“Yes,” he nods, grinning when your brows pinch in contemplation. “You’ll never guess so don’t hurt you head trying.” Lips press against your forehead and you press back into the soft touch, heart jumping at the tender gesture.

“Minigolf?” You question, looking up at the colourful entrance.

“Is that okay? If not, we can go somewhere else –”

He’s nervous – you can hear it in his voice.

Easing his anxiety, you shake your head and grin, “It’s perfect.”

You watch him relax, a pleased smile curling his lips, and then your hand is in his as he leads you through the gate and to the reception area to pay. The both of you meander outside once collecting your clubs and balls, and you feel childishly giddy at all the bright colours and fun obstacles set throughout, bouncing slightly in excitement as you walk to the first hole.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asks around a grin, head tilting as he watches you set up and take your position.

“This isn’t my first time,” you hum, shifting on your feet and lining up your shot. Swinging the golf club gently, you watch the neon orange ball bounce along the walls and finish up teeteringly on the edge of the cup before falling in with a satisfying clunk.

“Oh, by the way,” you spin, smirking, “I kick ass at minigolf.”

“Good,” he returns your smirk, gently nudging you out the way, “I don’t have to take it easy on you, then.”

What had started out as fun, quickly becomes competitive, and with competition comes foul play. Frankie had pinched your sides when you went to hit your ball, your body jolting with a yelp of surprise as he exploited your ticklish spots. In return, you knocked his golf club when he swung, and giggled wildly when he immediately turned on you, wrapping you in a tight hold and raining scratchy kisses along your throat in punishment.

The afternoon melts into evening with mix of steady conversation, laughter and hidden kisses behind obstacles – Frankie stealing the breath right from your lungs when he crowds you against the side of the colourfully decorated windmill and claims your mouth, the crowds of other couples and families wandering around the course oblivious to the two of you hidden in the shadows.

If he was trying to work you up, it was working. He had to know what he was doing to you, had to know how all-consuming his presence was when he swept you up into kiss after kiss. You were so wrapped up in the touches he would caress you with, so focused on the feel of his moustache as it tickled the skin above your lip, that you were completely unaware you were losing… until you peaked at the card Frankie kept sticking out of his back pocket (totally not because you were checking out his ass) and the wave of vicious competitiveness shadows the overwhelming desire to jump him right in the middle of the course on the artificial turf.

Payback.

The next course, you took your short as normal, squirming as you feel Frankie come to stand right behind you. Focus –

Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe –

Goosebumps rise along your arms in waves, the skin on the back of your neck prickling as he ghosts his curved nose down the column of your throat, your head tilting ever so slightly to allow him more access.

Fuck. No, breathe –

You swing the club, satisfaction rolling through you when the ball ends up in the cup perfectly in one shot. He’s slightly shocked, incredibly impressed, and presses a soft kiss of praise just below your ear. You watch as he takes your place, dropping his ball on the ground and readying his posture.

God, you need to stop looking at him like that.

The golf club feels loose in his grip, palms clammy from the fiery gaze locked onto the back of his neck as he hunches over for his turn. He feels a presence behind him but doesn’t pay any mind to it, and instead pays all of his attention to lining up the ball, mentally calculating what sort of angle he’d need to get it through the tunnel and around the winding corners to the cup a short dip below.

The cool puff of air suddenly blowing past and tickling his ear makes him fumble, the ball missing the tunnel and bouncing off of the sides and rolling back to his feet. He sighs, eyeing you over his shoulder with a playful frown as you blink innocently back at him.

He lines up again, tensing when warm hands work their way under his jacket, resting softly on his hips. He could feel the heat of your palms through his t-shirt and clears his throat, shifting on his feet and trying to focus back on the ball. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, teeth nipping lightly at his skin when he swings the golf club softly. Another miss. Frankie watches the ball return again, stopping at his feet with a light knock to his shoe.

“Yeah, that’s right, Morales – I’m onto you.” Your soft voice rings in his ear and he grins, knocking the ball into position with his club. “You may play dirty… but I do, too – try again.”

The words settle hotly in his stomach.

“You think you can win?”

“I know I can.” You all but purr into his ear.

He blocks you out then, focusing everything he has on getting that stupid fucking pink ball through the tunnel. He’s got it this time. This time –

Fingers dive under his shirt and his stomach jumps as they trace along his hot skin, slowly following along the waistband of his jeans teasingly. Fire shoots through his veins, muscles clenching under the feather light touches, your nails softly dragging along his skin.

Fucking Christ –

“Are you just going to stand here all day, Francisco?” You question slyly, voice soft and mocking. At your teasing, both verbal and physical, he hits the ball a little harder than intended and it bounces off the turf entirely and into the bushes lining the course.

You’re smug as you watch it disappear into the shrubs, “I’d say that’s forfeit.”

You go to step away when he starts to turn, but a hand grabs your wrist and keeps you flush against him, your insides somersaulting as his dark eyes burn through you.

“You’re trouble.” He accuses gruffly, heart still hammering in his chest while his skin burns from the ghost of your touches.

“You love it.”

He does.

Fuck, he does. Too much.

“Come on, loser,” you murmur, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss against his. “I’m hungry.” And with that, you turn, winking cheekily at him from over your shoulder, and he watches you walk away with a dumbfounded expression before he follows along behind you, jeans feeling a little tighter than what they did before.

The tension is stifling in the truck on the drive home. You feel your heart beating in your ears, the anticipation bubbling in your chest growing with every mile Frankie travels closer to your apartment. You were aching. Physically in fucking pain, and rubbing your thighs together was doing nothing to soothe the insistent throbbing from your core.

All that playful teasing, the touches and the rough kisses during the day, had caught up, and it was destroying you.

Frankie had briefly mentioned Mena staying with his parents for the night, and it had kickstarted your thoughts into overdrive. Was that a hint? Was he giving you a green light to potentially take this further? Was he saying he would be open to staying over? Was he asking to?

You were worried you were thinking on it too much, maybe getting the wrong idea and he was just expressing how nice it would be to have a night all to himself, but then his hand landed on your thigh and squeezed, and any inklings of doubt all but vanished.

He watches you from the corner of his eye, trying to focus on the road and not the way you keep shifting in your seat. He feels every time you squeeze your thighs together, feels the muscles move under his hand, and he physically has to stop himself from making a noise every time you do. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?

Your building comes into view and then he’s pulling up outside, removing his hand from your thigh and throwing the truck into park, letting it idle while you study the structure and get your thoughts together. Swallowing the sudden spike of nerves that settle in your stomach, you look to Frankie and find him already watching you quietly.

For a moment, you say nothing, and he doesn’t bother filling the silence. He lets you have all the time you need while you decide on your next move. Not that you need much time – you know exactly what you want.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask quietly, watching his eyes darken as they flicker to your building before returning to you. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and then he’s nodding, turning the keys in the ignition and the truck cuts out beneath you.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa @alberta-sunrise @betterthanbucky @linkpk88 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @livilottie @hailmaryyramliah @kesskirata @blueeyesatnight @a-perfct-stranger

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller

552 notes · View notes

johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 37: A Trevelyan’s Word

Tristan and Dorian spend some much needed quiet time together. Some fluff, a tiiiiny bit of angst (blink and you’ll miss it), and some important conversations.

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Libraries had always been one of Dorian’s favourite places to be, ever since he could remember himself.

After having lived in so many different Circles, and having worked and studied in many more, gravitating towards the nearest library wherever he happened to be was something like second nature to him. He remembered the layout of every one he’d visited in startling detail: the neat rows of bookcases of the Carastes Circle; the circular library tower of the Circle of Trevis, with its tinted glass windows that had been specifically designed to protect the priceless tomes from the scorching sun and the dust; the vast Library of Minrathous, where one could easily lose themselves in unless they had a chart, a compass, a detailed floor plan and perhaps said a prayer or two. Regardless of the size, layout or method of archiving, finding what he was looking for had always been a swift matter, each library’s secrets revealing themselves to him readily after one brief sweep of the many rooms and shelves.

Never once had he encountered a library as reticent as the one in Skyhold.

After several months there, he still could not figure out the organisational system that the books had once been stored in. He’d assumed it was because of all the different kinds of people that had once resided there, but even in the oldest and most dilapidated libraries he had visited there was some method to the madness. In Skyhold, however, there was just madness.

Books on Pyromancy, which he had personally moved to the top floor - where they belonged, alongside the treatises on Primal magic- would magically appear on the lower floor shelves, alongside the tomes on Entropy magic. The scrolls of ancient Tevinter glyphs and spells, which he had found after sorting through the multitude of Chantry books that seemed to be practically sprouting out of the soil in that place, and that he had painstakingly cleaned from dust and arranged in alphabetical order in the booth next to his own, had now disappeared into thin air. The apprentice archivists, when he’d asked them, had simply stared at him with the sparkling gazes of well-fed heifers. One of them had had the audacity to look him straight in the eye and unironically say:

“If it’s Spirit glyphs you’re interested in, why don’t you read Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s research? Those scrolls you're looking for are outdated, anyway.”

Outdated? Outdated! The very notion had had Dorian grinding his teeth. As if seeing Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s sour visage every day, and listening to her endless tirades about Tevinter and anything else that displeased her wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t touch that tiresome crone’s research with a ten foot pole— no, make it twenty feet. One could never be too safe.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he shoved the book on Alchemy he’d found lying forgotten by the side of the wrong bookcase back in its proper shelf. If he’d known the level of ignorance and buffoonery he would be met with in the South, he would have seriously reconsidered ever leaving Minrathous. Oh, certainly, his homeland was a nest of vipers, but at least Tevinters knew how to organise a dratted library.

Now, if only he could find who in the Maker’s dratted name had gone through his dratted scrolls—

A glance at the research table across the rotunda promptly answered his question.

“Helisma,” he grumbled through clenched teeth as he stomped towards her. Priceless scrolls and documents were gathered willy-nilly in her arms, as well as the arms of the two apprentices that trailed her. The Tranquil looked up at him calmly when he barred her way.

“May I ask what on earth you have been doing with all the scrolls? You are the one who snatched them away, and don’t you even try to deny it.”

“I moved them to the underground storage rooms.”

That she could deliver those lines without an ounce of emotion was entirely bewildering, despite the fact that she was, indeed, a Tranquil. He forced his lips into a tight, sarcastic smile. “Why would you do that, pray tell? What have the poor things done to offend you so? Surely whatever it was could have been resolved over some tea and crumpets, instead of banishment to the nearest dungeon.”

She simply blinked at him, her tone completely flat as she informed him, “The upper levels of the library are reserved for leather bound tomes and codexes. The underground storage rooms are where scrolls, manuscripts and loose documents should be kept.”

“Helisma, my dear,” Dorian uttered tightly, trying his best not to lose his composure and start yelling in the middle of the library where everybody and their aunts could hear, “we have been over this. There is no reason for the scrolls to be there. They are needed here, where they can be used. The storage rooms are as damp as it gets, certainly you must be able to see that keeping ancient and fragile scrolls there is not the wisest course of action?”

“The humidity in the storage rooms is less than forty percent. That is lower than the Circle of Amaranthine’s storage rooms by five point two degrees.”

“And you’re saying it as if it’s a good thing? If the humidity in the Minrathous library was half as high, the master archivist would be having an apoplexy!” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath. There clearly wasn’t any way of making sense of this, and he would sooner teach a mule to dance than talk Helisma out of her ways. “Very well. Have it your way. I’ll see what I’ll be able to salvage from this mess.” He sniffed and tossed his head back in defiance as he turned around and stomped back the way he’d come, leaving a blank-eyed Helisma behind.

The chill in the lower vaults was unmistakable, cutting through his many layers of clothing and piercing him right to the bone. Dorian resisted the urge to frown as he gathered his cloak around his shoulders. Any more of that, and he would getting wrinkles before his time, and he had enough as it was. Ever since coming to the South, he had noticed a few more around his eyes that he was sure had not been there a few months before. If this went on any longer, he would be looking like a shrivelled up prune by the time this entire Inquisition business was done.

The stray thought made him stop short, there, in the half dark and quiet of the vaults. Part of him wasn’t sure if he wished the Inquisition business to be done, he realised. Of course, he wanted Corypheus and his Venatori to be defeated, more than anyone. If this were done, the world would have a chance to recover, and with it his country’s reputation. Still… the thought of the future brought with it a certain amount of trepidation. Trevelyan would ultimately be the one to face all those dangers, and no one knew how he would be affected. His life was on the line, day after day, and Dorian more than anyone could see how it was stretching him thin. Even if everything went according to plan though, even if they both survived this ordeal, no one knew what the future held for the two of them. For the time being, they were bound by this common cause. Beyond this… only time could tell.

The worry and unease that he so often tried to brush away slithered to the surface. Dorian took a deep breath to quell it. There was no point thinking of the future, when everything about the present was so uncertain. Trevelyan was alive and well now, as much as he could be, and that was all that mattered.

Brushing the thoughts aside, Dorian turned right as soon as he’d reached the storage room he was looking for. It was the farthest down the corridor, with only a lone torch burning.

Torches. Amidst all this paper. The horror.

The sounds beyond the door of the storage room quickly revealed that there was someone else there, shifting through the many scrolls and documents in the cramped space. At least she had the sense to conjure a small ball of light, which was now hovering above her as she searched, its halo glossing her cropped black hair. She gave a small start when she heard him entering, her large blue eye widening.

“Lord Pavus,” Grand Enchanter Fiona breathed, pressing her palm to her chest. Or was it just Fiona, now? “You frightened me.”

“My apologies,” he said. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at the scrolls she had been shifting through. “I see I wasn’t the only one who has found the scrolls Helisma has banished down here useful.”

“Ah, yes. She does have some strong opinions about where everything should be stored. I’m not entirely certain I agree.”

She gave Dorian the barest hints of a smile. Their interactions had always been kept serious and professional, both of them taking care not to linger in each other’s presence too long, despite them practically sharing the same workspace. At first, it was because Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, and he had the suspicion that his presence made her just as uneasy. However, he had soon found out that she didn’t particularly invite any interaction beyond the typical. The former Grand Enchanter and Grey Warden had kept a low profile ever since joining the Inquisition, more so after they had taken permanent residence in Skyhold, and Dorian didn’t blame her for that. There had been enough talk about her, even without her stirring any sort of trouble or gossip.

Even so, the fact that the former leader of the mage rebellion, who had —unknowingly, allegedly— struck a deal with the Venatori and had been banished from Ferelden because of it, could go by largely unnoticed at all was an impressive feat. Still, she managed to do just that. Most days.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for? Can I be of any help?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. You’re much better versed with those scrolls than I assume I am.” A compliment? That was promising. “I’m searching for Magister Domitius’ research on reanimated undead. I do remember seeing a copy a while ago, in loose papers, but it disappeared before I had time to properly bind it. Have you perhaps seen it?”

Dorian narrowed his eyes in thought as he looked around the stacks. It didn’t take long for him to spot a few sheets of paper hastily rolled and bound with a leather cord. “That seems to be it,” he said as he dragged it out carefully and handed it to her. Fiona inclined her head in gratitude, unwrapping the document with slow, careful motions.

“Thank you. That was most helpful.”

“Anytime.” Dorian took a step back, giving the mage some time and space to inspect the discovery. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she read, her lips pursing in thought. She was short in stature, and could easily be overlooked if she wished it to be so. Yet there was something about her, a commanding presence and a stubborn streak that was hard to define, and to hide.

“I studied this one many years ago," he mused, crossing his arms before his chest. "It’s a rather interesting treatise, although some of the glyphs for releasing the spells that bind the undead are quite crude.”

“Crude, but effective. That is just what is needed right now. I hear the undead have claimed many lives all over Thedas, and will likely claim many more.”

“So grim, so early in the day? Grand Enchanter, I expected more from you.”

The elf glanced up at him, her lips quirked in amusement. “Former Grand Enchanter, if you please. Or you can just call me Fiona, as everyone else does these days.” The smile faded away as she looked down at the scroll once more. “One does learn to be grim after seeing as many deaths as I have. It is a hard thing to shake off.”

The silence that followed between them was somewhat awkward, with her carefully studying the writing on the yellowed and musty pages. Still, if there was something Dorian was good at, that was filling the silence. “So how come you’re studying the undead? I wasn’t aware that necromancy was your field of study.”

“It is not. The Inquisitor reported a large number of demons and undead in Crestwood, and some of the Inquisition mages were assigned with coming up with strategies to defend the villages until the Inquisitor is able to close the rift. I have experience battling the creatures, so I volunteered to investigate the matter further and to train the new recruits.”

Dorian’s stomach tightened ever so slightly. There were so many issues that demanded Trevelyan’s attention, he often wondered how the man found time to eat or sleep. He certainly seemed to be doing much less of both these days. That he found time to spend with Dorian at all when they were in Skyhold was a marvel in and of itself. Even before leaving for Crestwood, before the ordeal they’d both been through with the demon, he'd seemed so gaunt and pale, wrung out. The Inquisition was stretching him thin. Dorian wondered if ever the time would come that it would break him.

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow past the knot in his throat. He wouldn’t let it come to this, not if he could help it. He would stand by him, help him as much as he could. That was what a partner did, after all, wasn’t it?

“It is very noble of you, to offer to help with the matter,” he told her, in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.

“Not at all. It is the least I can do to aid the Inquisition’s efforts.” She let out a soft sigh as she rolled the scroll back up carefully. “The way things ended in Redcliffe, the Inquisitor could have demanded anything he wished. Instead, he offered us a full alliance, and our dignities back. That is not something I am about to forget.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose he could have ordered you to become the Inquisition court jesters, as I hear the Orlesians seem to be doing with their mages.”

Fiona stared at him for a brief moment, until she realised he was jesting. She let out a chuckle then, shaking her head lightly. “I am glad he did not.”

Dorian joined her in laughter, the awkwardness between them dissipating somewhat. Affection and a strange sort of pride blossomed within him when he remembered Trevelyan in the hall of Redcliffe castle, only the bearer of the mark back then, with no real authority to his name, standing tall and proud before the King of Ferelden himself and declaring the mages equal partners of the Inquisition. Everyone had thought him mad, Dorian included. Looking back, perhaps it was around then that Dorian had fallen in love with him in earnest. A fool he certainly was, but a brave, beautiful, extraordinary fool at that.

“He has been known to make some interesting choices,” Dorian said, not quite able to hide the tenderness in his voice. “Some of them correct.”

“I dare hope it’s more than some.” She glanced up at him, and the pale light of her spell danced in her eyes. “The world has taken much from all of us, I suspect most of all from him. Still, I have faith that if anyone can see us through it all, it’s him. Not many would have done what he did. To declare an alliance with the mages, to shun the Chantry, to forge a new path, a new way of doing things... that takes courage. Or madness.”

“He has a fair bit of both.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “He is… an odd character. His ideas are odder still. Quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, and Dorian thought he saw something in her eyes, something akin to sadness, even more akin to sympathy as she regarded him. “I suppose it’s the same for you, yes?”

Dorian straightened, preparing himself to deflect the comment, to deny it, but something stopped him. He let out a soft breath instead, gazing at her levelly. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

A brief silence stretched between them. Fiona smiled fleetingly before looking down at the scrolls in her hands once more. “Thank you for your help in finding these. It is much appreciated.”

Dorian stepped to the side to let her pass. She left, her footsteps barely making a sound.

He let out a sigh into the quiet of the small storage room. Fiona’s words about Trevelyan had been kind, almost fond, and certainly much nicer than what many others he’d heard, yet even she couldn’t hide the depth of her expectations, her hopes. Dorian didn’t envy Trevelyan the power of his position much. The world expected so much of him, sometimes it did feel like it was perched upon his shoulders.

The scrolls stared at him sullenly from their shelves. Dorian pushed his shirtsleeves up and summoned a bright ball of light above his head. There was plenty of work for him to do. If everyone was doing their part to help the Inquisition, Dorian would do twice— no, three times as much.

When he lifted his head from his desk and looked out the window of the small nook in the library he called his office, it was already dark.

Dorian frowned back down at his own notes, sprawled before him messily like a blanket of autumn leaves freshly fallen from the bough. He had been poring over them for the better part of the day, after finding the scrolls he had been looking for. He was sure the copies he had made from the Venatori ritual in the Emerald Grave were correct, but they made no sense. Surely whoever had come up with those glyphs knew what they were doing, to some extent, but Dorian just couldn’t make out what they were trying to do exactly. The ritual itself was eerily similar to the one he had remembered finding years ago in the Minrathous library, but there were some fundamental differences. The Venatori had tried to control the power of the spell by tweaking central parts of the glyphs, but those they’d used for the binding clashed with the glyph right across from them, which was a bastardised version of a well-known affliction hex to weaken the subject’s mental defences. No wonder the poor people the Venatori had used the ritual on were turned to drooling, unresponsive vegetables; their mind was turned to jelly long before the actual mind-control spell was cast.

And it would be quite fortunate if that was the only problem he’d encountered. Trying to figure out the logic behind it was giving him headaches. There was something here, something that eluded him, Dorian was sure of it. That certainty only made him more intent on finding exactly how the ritual worked, and for that he needed resources that were not available to him at present. Tilani’s answer to the letter he had sent her regarding the original scroll was yet to arrive. It probably hadn’t even reached her yet.

Dorian suppressed the urge to curse the South and their terrible postal system, and reached for one of the dusty tomes he had managed to find in a forgotten part of the library instead. There was a glyph amongst those he had managed to copy that reminded suspiciously of Disthenes’ version of a glyph of paralysis. Now this, this he could work with. He had studied the Tevinter’s work extensively while he’d been holed up in the Circle of Marothius, and his memory was still fresh. If he used Disthenes’ theorems and altered the glyphs enough to make them work, in combination with Enchanter Hallesis’ equations in order to fix those horrible spirit-manipulating spells he’d seen the Venatori using...

Dorian let out a soft sigh. He probably should leave the matter alone, he knew that. There was little chance of figuring out how the ritual worked, or rather, didn’t work, without the original scroll he had asked Tilani to find. Yet, he’d already been working on this too long to let it go like this. If he was able to make some modicum of progress on his own, or better yet, find a way to work out some of the kink and errors in the glyphs he’d copied from the ritual, then he might be able to find a way to reverse it as well. The Inquisition needed knowledge like this, if they happened to chance upon a Venatori ritual like that again. Knowing what weapons and spells the Venatori had in their arsenal was half the battle, wasn’t it?

He half jolted out of his seat when he felt warm lips brushing the shell of his ear, a hand skimming his waist. “Four hundred and twenty two.”

Dorian leaned back in his chair, smiling at the sound of Trevelyan’s voice. How that man could walk up to him without making a sound, he could never understand. “Four hundred and twenty two, what?”

“Minutes. I’ve been counting.” He leaned forward, catching Dorian’s lips in a gentle kiss. The library was empty at that hour— Dorian thanked the Maker for that. He sighed as he turned around in his chair, his hand finding its way to the back of Trevelyan’s neck to deepen their kiss. He tasted of spiced, honeyed wine, with a mild undertone of the sweet and tart dried apples he always kept on him.

“Have you, now?” he murmured teasingly.

“Yes. I told you I would, didn’t I?” Trevelyan’s smile widened. “My word is my bond.”

A flush crept up Dorian’s cheeks with the warmth in Trevelyan’s gaze. He was peering at him with so much tenderness, and with their proximity Dorian could smell the warmth of his body, the faint smell of his soap. He realised then, that although they’d only been apart since that morning, he had missed him. And the fact that Trevelyan had come straight to him after finishing with his duties, with the black ink from signing his reports still staining his fingers, made him feel warmer still. He suddenly couldn’t wait to be alone with him again, to touch and kiss him freely without worrying about who was to see, to avail himself of the body that hid beneath that snugly fitting dark blue coat.

With his heart beating with a strange sort of giddiness, Dorian turned around and gathered his papers, placed them in the drawer of his desk and locked it securely. “So,” he said, standing up, “shall we retire to your quarters? I’d rather not spend another minute here, thank you very much.”

Trevelyan took his hand, threading his fingers through his. “There’s something I want us to do first.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#dorian pavus #dorian x trevelyan #pavelyan #dorian x inquisitor #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dorian/trevelyan #dorian/inquisitor #dorian x tristan trevelyan #dragon age fanfic #tristan trevelyan #a world with you #johaerys writes

37 notes · View notes

alicanta77 · 4 years

Text

Finale: All or Nothing

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: angst, fluff, suspense(?)

Warnings: swearing, zombies, blood, violence, death, virus, illness, anxiety, mentions of abusive family, needles (one injection)

Words: 12.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

——————————————————————————

The inspiration for this story came from my amazing friend @2-cute-4-school and her story called ‘Evanescent’. Her work is so brilliant and she is such an under-appreciated writer. I can’t recommend or praise her enough. Thank you to the ends of the earth for letting me use it as a starting point.

I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read post mortem. This is my first series and it so special to me so it means so much to receive likes, comments and tags saying that you enjoyed it. It has brought me brilliant friends such as @in-my-neofeelings and @honei-n and I couldn’t be more thankful for that. It’s been a wild ride so far and I hope you enjoy the finale!

Felix xox

——————————————————————————

Jeno walked swiftly down the hallway. He had holding a single piece of paper, folded in half to hide what was on it and his feet were almost silent as he made his way to your room. He turned a quick corner, knocking on your door three times, pausing for a second, then knocking again twice, before letting himself in.

He closed the door behind him, twisting the lock so that it clicked, before turning around and facing the rest of you. He held up the paper in his hands.

‘I’ve mapped out the blueprint of the army base.’

I.N. spoke next, running a hand through his hair to hide the fact that it was shaking slightly.

‘I’ve figured out how to override the system.’

Wooyoung joined in, swallowing before talking.

‘I’ve sorted our weapons.’

You spoke last.

‘I’ve planned our route.’

The four of you looked around at each other, your obvious nerves making the tension levels rise.

I.N. took a deep breath.

‘Ok, so we’re all set for going back into the simulation.’

You nodded, determination taking over your mind as you shared a look with the boys in front of you.

‘Let’s blow this thing up.’

It hadn’t been easy to get organised. Especially not without drawing any attention to yourselves. Jeno had managed to draw up a map of the army base, marking the easiest route to the kill switch. He still remembered the ins and outs of that place from his summer camp, therefore was nominated the best person for the job. I.N. had spent his few days in the tech lab. He worked alongside a few other technicians, supporting people in the simulation. He quickly realised however, that they weren’t supporting them, but instead were directing packs of zombies towards them, trying to get as many people as possible to turn. It was in mindless conversations with these people that I.N. managed to ask a few questions about the system and get a vague understanding of how it worked. Wooyoung had been the one to realise that you would need weapons. Once the people here figured out that you had gone, they were going to come after you with everything they had. You knew too much. You were going to have to protect yourself, and Wooyoung managed to figure out how. And your job was to plan the way to the army base. You were hoping that I.N. could find a way to place you at the army base but, just in case, you had planned seven other routes. You had also spoken to Donghyuck’s sister, begging her to stay safe and keep her head down for the time you were away. You didn’t tell her much, only that you were going to get Donghyuck. She seemed to understand a lot more than you thought she did, as she gently held on to you while you hugged goodbye, taking the chance to whisper “do what you have to” in your ear. You had no idea if she had figured out what was really going on, but you knew you would never underestimate the girl again.

Tomorrow was the big day. Tomorrow was when it mattered. Tomorrow you went back into the simulation.

---

You were lying in bed that night, Jeno next to you as you chatted with each other about random things, trying to ease your nerves. You were glad that he hadn’t left you alone, instead claiming that he would wait for you to fall asleep before heading back to his own room.

‘What do you think will happen to us in there?’ He asked, changing the subject from whether starfish have feelings to the task ahead of you.

‘I don’t know.’ You answered honestly. ‘Probably what happened before, except harder. There are more zombies and we have to be careful not to get bitten. I mean, we always were careful but... everything relies on us now.’

‘As long as one of us makes it we’ll be okay.’ He reasoned, keeping his eyes on the ceiling above him. ‘We’re gonna get to see everyone again too.’

‘Yeah.’ You breathed out, your mind filled with the memories of Hyuck and you couldn’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to see him again. ‘It feels like it’s been a lifetime since I saw them last.’

‘I know.’ Jeno replied. And he really did. Since you both got your real memories back, your friendship had gone right back to normal. It was such a relief to have someone who understood the situation you were both put in, especially as it was so hard to explain.

A silence fell over the two of you for a second.

‘Are you thinking about Hyuck?’ He asked, turning his head to look at you.

‘Yeah.’ You said honestly, keeping your eyes on the ceiling and blinking back the tears that were gathering. ‘I miss him.’

‘I know you do... I also know that he misses you too, if not more. I still can’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that they actually think that we’re dead.’ Jeno looked back at the ceiling, blinking back tears of his own before you saw them. ‘Do you think they’ll believe us when we tell them about the simulation?’

‘I mean, we’ll be alive. Surely that must be proof enough?’ You wondered. ‘Although, it almost doesn’t matter whether they believe us or not. We actually don’t need them to, we just need to hit that button.’

Jeno nodded.

‘You’re right. We need to focus on shutting it down and we can properly reunite and explain everything to them once we’ve woken up again.’

You hummed in agreement, your eyes shutting slightly as tiredness began to take over you.

---

Tomorrow had arrived.

You woke up to an empty room, Jeno fulfilling his promise and heading back to his once you had fallen asleep. You looked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the red numbers staring back at you.

9:37am

You were meeting the boys in Wooyoung’s room at 10am, as per I.N.’s request, meaning you had 20 minutes. You lay in bed for a short while, the thought of what you were preparing to do occupying your mind, before climbing out and heading towards the shower.

After a quick shower, you dried off and pulled on some more clothes. All the clothes supplied here were the same, tracksuit bottoms and a t shirt, the colours just varied every day. Today you had white bottoms and a white t shirt as well. You pulled them on before walking towards your door. You opened it, stepped into the hallway and began making your way to Wooyoung’s room.

---

By the time you arrived, the other boys were already there. There was a heavy silence in the air, it was clear that they’d been discussing something before you’d arrived.

‘What wrong?’ You asked, afraid of what they were about to tell you.

‘Dr Kim is in the pod room. He booked it last night and apparently won’t be leaving for the rest of the week.’ Jeno explained.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

‘Ok, that’s not good, not at all. Is Dr Kim-’

‘The one you overheard with Jeno? Yes.’ I.N. cut you off. ‘Look, we can’t waste any time. I say that, as soon as he leaves the room, we go in, lock the door, and get into that simulation.’

The three of you nodded in agreement.

‘I.N’s right.’ Wooyoung said. ‘We don’t have time to wait for an opening, we’re gonna need to create one. We can hear the door opening from here so, as long as we are near, we can make sure to take that gap.’

‘There’s something else.’ I.N. abruptly mentioned. You and the two other boys turning to look at him quizzically. ‘The three of you are going in alone.’

‘What? I.N. wait-’

‘No, let me explain.’ I.N. interrupted Wooyoung’s protest. You didn’t know how to feel, you had been prepared for all of you going in, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave him behind. ‘The three of you are going in alone because you have to. Firstly, in order to get into the simulation, someone else has to “authorise” it, for lack of a better word. You are going to be lying in a pod, and I’m going to “authorise” you going in. No matter what we try and do, one of us would always have to stay behind. And it has to be me. The three of you are much more suited for the challenge ahead, I’m just the brains of the operation. Plus, I’ve got to make sure that no one can follow you in or pull you out, therefore I need to stay here. Besides, from out here I can throw them off your scent, hack into the camera system to make sure that the cameras don’t follow you, and other things like that.’

He looked around at you, easily telling from your faces that you clearly weren’t okay with this development.

‘I.N. we need all four of us. We can do this if we’re together.’ Jeno pleaded, but I.N. simply shook his head.

‘You can do this alone.’

‘No I.N. we need you. Like you said you’re the brains of this and what if we come across a problem that you know how to solve but we don’t? You have to come with us.’ You begged him, but he didn’t change his opinion.

‘You have to trust me on this. You need to leave me behind.’

Wooyoung was the only one who hadn’t said anything, just staring at his friend sadly.

‘You know they’ll punish you for us going in right? You’re going to pay for the consequences of our actions.’ Wooyoung whispered, obviously scared for what would happen once you leave.

‘I know.’ I.N. replied, his voice quiet but surprisingly calm. ‘But that should buy you guys some time. And you’re going to need all the time you can get.’

The three of you nodded, finally understanding that, even if I.N. wanted to, he couldn’t join you in the simulation. He needed to protect you from the outside.

‘Just... promise me one favour?’ I.N. asked.

‘Anything.’ Wooyoung guaranteed.

‘Let them know that I’m okay. Especially Chan... please just make sure he’s not blaming himself.’ He whispered.

You felt yourself nodding. You couldn’t help but let your mind drift off to the boys who were in there, waiting for you. You thought of how Renjun had argued with you not to become a raider in the first place, claiming that he just wanted you to be safe. You thought of how Jaemin had only ever asked one thing of you, and that was for you to stay alive. You thought of how desperate San had been to stay with you when you had told him to leave you behind. And you thought of how Donghyuck had looked when you told him you were going on that final run. You thought of how you could see every part of him want to tell you “no”. You thought of how many times he had pulled you in for a hug and begged to stay with him. And you thought of how he had looked when he sat by your grave. They needed to know that you were okay. They needed to know that you didn’t blame them. They needed to know that you loved them.

The sound of a door opening and harsh footsteps treading down the hallway next to you interrupted your thoughts. The four of you froze, listening to the muttering voice of Dr Kim disappearing down the corridor as he muttered about being interrupted.

‘The room’s empty.’ I.N. stated.

Jeno stood up, quietly opening the door and checking that it was clear before turning back to the rest of you.

‘Let’s go.’

---

‘This better be important.’ Dr Kim stormed into his office. ‘I have other business to attend to.’

‘Sir, you’re going to want to see this.’

The head doctor, Dr Kim, turned his head towards the voice of his assistant. On their computer screen was a video, a video of your conversation from last night. Dr Kim leaned on the desk in front of him as he listened to the four of you talk.

‘Ok, so we’re all set for going back into the simulation.’

‘Yes. Let’s blow this thing up.’

Dr Kim took a deep breath as he tried to make sense of this development.

‘How did they find out?’ He asked, his voice quiet but the anger clear.

‘We don’t know.’ His assistant replied. ‘But they’re planning to head back into the simulation and shut it down. They’ve... they’ve found the kill switch.’

Dr Kim’s eyes shot to his assistant, who once again shrugged, answering the question he hadn’t yet asked.

‘Then the answer is simple. We need to stop them. Shut down the pod room, no one goes in and I want to be alerted if there is any attempt to override the system. And you-’ Dr Kim clicked at the bodyguard on his right side. ‘Let’s go pay our little heroes a visit. I think they’re in need of a few new memories, don’t you?’

---

You watched as I.N. shut the door tight behind him, making sure to twist the lock. He stopped briefly, taking a quick look around before beginning his instructions.

‘Ok, Wooyoung, go into that cupboard and grab the solution that’s there, y/n, find me a syringe and Jeno, go and open three of those pods.’

You all nodded, quickly scrambling to fulfil your orders. You were pulling open random drawers, desperately looking for a syringe for I.N. to use. You were on your seventh when you finally found it. You turned around triumphantly, holding it out for I.N. to take when the lights surrounding the door went red and a low electronic groan echoed out.

‘What was that?’ Jeno asked to no one in particular.

‘We don’t have time to wait around and find out.’ I.N. grabbed the syringe out of you hand while uttering those words. The tension was unbearable, all of you knowing that you had a very short amount of time before you were caught.

What none of you knew was that, you had already run out of time.

---

Dr Kim threw open Wooyoung’s door, a shout of frustration leaving his mouth as he found it empty. He had been to all of your rooms in an attempt to find you. He stormed into the corridor again, his eyes drifting to the pod room down the hall. He walked up towards the door, pressed his ear against the wood, and listened.

His guard behind him had a hand on his gun as he watched Dr Kim’s face transform into an expression of absolute rage.

‘They’re in there.’ He forced through gritted teeth. He turned around and looked at his guard before shouting. ‘Get this door open!’

The guard moved forwards immediately, putting the gun back in its holster and attempting to kick down the door. After a few tries he turned around.

‘It won’t budge. It needs to be opened from the control room.’ He informed the doctor in front of him.

Dr Kim let out a strangled scream and lunged forward to grab the radio off the guard’s waist. He lifted it up to his mouth and spoke into it, shouting instructions at the people in the control room.

‘I want the door to the pod room open right now!’

‘But Dr Kim, if that-’ A static voice came through from the other side, giving him some excuse as to why he needed to wait.

‘I don’t care! Open the door now!’ Dr Kim threw the radio back at the guard in front of him and watched as the lights around the door changed from a red to white, signalling that it was unlocked.

He threw the door open and burst into the room.

---

‘Get this door open!’

Dr Kim’s voice travelled through the door separating you and the four of you inside looked at each other in fear.

‘Jeno, quick! Come here.’ I.N. instructed, moving the syringe so that it was close to his neck. He had already given you and Wooyoung injections, only Jeno’s was left. He pulled the syringe out, ready to send you back into the simulation. ‘Go and lie in a pod and close the door on top of you.’

His voice was sharp and clear, not a single trace of fear in it, the only thing betraying him were his slightly shaking hands. You could hear a loud bang come from the door as you ran towards the closest pod. You turned back towards I.N. as a thought crossed your mind.

‘I.N.!’ You called out, only getting a hum in response. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

I.N. looked up at you for a split second, his expression conveying all he needed to say.

Now is not the time to ask questions but yes, what do you need?

‘Please, look after Hyuck’s sister for me? Make sure that she’s okay.’

I.N. nodded.

‘I promise.’

You felt a small amount of relief flow through you. You were leaving without speaking to her so you were glad to know that she would be protected. You quickly lay down in your open pod, pulled the door down over you, and, as the door clicked shut, you were encased in a pale blue light.

A few seconds passed before I.N’s voice came through.

‘Ok, I can’t seem to put you straight into the army base for some reason, the location is locked on here and I don’t have time to figure out how to hack it, but I’m going to drop you as close as I can. It’s in the nearby city and looks like it’s just under half a day’s walk away.’

You took a deep breath as you mentally pictured the maps you had drawn up. You knew you had planned some routes that went through nearby cities, you just weren’t sure which on you were going to be dropped in.

‘If I remember correctly from when we went in, you’re going to get very drowsy in a minute, just relax into it. Let the simulation take you okay? Don’t panic.’

He paused for a minute, leaving you in silence, your own breathing being the only thing you could hear. You could feel your eyes begin to relax and the tiredness swept through your veins. You could feel your heart rate begin to rise, all the memories from the simulation flooding back through your mind. Your father’s death, Jeno’s death, Donghyuck’s sister’s death, the first girl you killed. But you forced those pictures out of your mind. This time wasn’t going to be like that. You were prepared. You weren’t going in there to just fight for your life, you were going in there to save everyone. I.N.’s voice came back over the speakers, just as you lost consciousness completely.

‘Good luck.’

---

You opened your eyes.

You were surprised to find yourself standing up. You were stood in the middle of a road, clearly on an abandoned high street. The shops up and down the pavement were empty, some even having been looted. You turned to look around you, spotting Wooyoung and Jeno a little further down.

You took an experimental step, relieved when you didn’t go crashing to the ground, and took off in a jog. Both of the boys saw you moving towards them and came forwards to meet you halfway.

You came to a halt when you reached them, the three of you standing in silence.

‘Well...’ Wooyoung spoke, his eyes constantly darting around your surroundings. ‘We made it.’

‘Yeah, I guess we did.’ You mumbled, your eyes looking down at the ground. It was only when you did this, did you realise the clothes that you were wearing. ‘Oh my god! I’m in the clothes I died in.’ You realised, both Jeno and Wooyoung’s eyes darting to their bodies as well.

You recognised Jeno’s outfit from the final day at Mark, the sight of him running through the infested house on the monitors was not one that you would easily forget, and judging from Wooyoung’s shocked face, he was also wearing what he had been killed in.

‘Wow. Yeah, thankfully the clothes from just before we died. Cause, you know, there wouldn’t be much left of mine otherwise.’ Jeno’s shot a smile at the two of you.

You stared at him in disbelief, a laugh leaving you despite the circumstances.

‘Only you could joke about blowing yourself up like that.’ You chuckled.

But Wooyoung whirled around to stare at Jeno.

‘You blew yourself up?’ He asked, as Jeno nodded in confirmation.

‘Yeah, just pulled the pin on a grenade and ran into a group of zombies.’ He shrugged like it was no big deal, causing Wooyoung to stare at you.

‘It’s true.’ You informed him. ‘We were in the floor above. The blast knocked us off our feet.’ Your voice got quieter towards the end. Even though Jeno was very much alive, listening to the blast and coming down to the wreckage of Mark’s kitchen wasn’t an easy thing to forget.

Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder, sending you a comforting smile. You sent one back before turning to Wooyoung again.

‘But what about you? San told me all about your heroics, sacrificing yourself so that they could get into the army base.’ You grinned at him, watching as Wooyoung blushed slightly.

‘I’m not the only one though, who sacrificed myself for San am I?’ He asked, looking you directly in the eye.

Your smile shrunk slightly, leaving only a sad one on your lips.

‘We weren’t both making it out of that alive.’

You all fell into silence after you spoke those words, all replaying the scenes of your own deaths in your minds. It wasn’t something you ever expected to be haunted with, but here you were, stumbling back through this wasted version of the world, being stalked by your own ghost.

‘Let’s just get our weapons and move on?’ You suggested, breaking the tension as both boys nodded in agreement.

‘If I remember correctly...’ Wooyoung muttered, mainly to himself as he walked through a broken shop window. He disappeared for a while, making yours and Jeno’s hearts race in fear. You had forgotten the terror that came along with losing sight of someone for a few seconds in this climate.

His head popped up again, a childish smile on his face.

‘Found it.’ He informed you, even though neither you nor Jeno had any clue as to what “it” was.

‘You know,’ Wooyoung continued. ‘I.N. actually couldn’t have dropped us in a better place, I grew up around here and I know that the owner of this store was very paranoid about people stealing his things. So he had a secret compartment put in, and filled it with these.’

Wooyoung appeared over the top again, this time holding a gun in each hand. They were large guns, similar to the kind that you had used at Mark’s. He handed one to each of you and then grabbed one more for himself. He also pulled a box out that was filled with cases of spare bullets.

‘I thought we might need these too.’ He said as he unzipped a backpack on the floor, emptying the contents and filling it again with the cases of bullets and a few spare pistols. He also made sure to hand both you and Jeno a handgun.

‘How do you know all of this?’ Jeno asked, his eyes wide at the sight in front of him.

‘Hmmm? Oh I worked here part time. It paid quite well actually. He only ever took on three students a year so it was really competitive.’ Wooyoung replied.

‘So he told all his employees about this? How come no one else took these?’ You wondered aloud.

‘Oh no. He didn’t tell all of his employees. Only me.’ Wooyoung corrected you.

‘Well, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why you?’

Wooyoung looked up at Jeno’s question, diverting his eyes from the gun in front of him.

‘Simple. He liked me.’

Another large smile broke out across the boy’s face, one that made you smile with him, without realising it. Wooyoung was such a happy virus, someone who could make people happy or brighten their day without even trying. Your mind drifted to Donghyuck. The only boy who could make you smile even in the worst of circumstances. You missed him. You missed him so much that it physically hurt. It sometimes felt like he was the only thing keeping you going.

‘Right.’ Wooyoung’s voice cut through your train of thought. ‘Shall we go?’

You opened your mouth to answer but before you got a chance to, a low groan sounded through the high street. It was a noise that you hadn’t heard for a while, but nevertheless, still managed to send a chill of terror down your spine.

You turned slowly and made eye contact with the zombie staring at you through the broken store window.

---

‘Where are they?’ The Dr Kim bellowed as he burst into the camera room. ‘I want eyes on the three of them right now!’

All he got in response were frantic nods from the staff as they combed through every camera that they possibly could to find the four of you.

‘Doctor! I found them.’ A voice from the far left called out.

‘Put them up on the screen.’ Dr Kim instructed, watching as the main screen on the wall lit up with a picture of you all walking through the empty high street.

‘That street... I know that street.’ Dr Kim mused. He turned to the guard on his left and barked an instruction. ‘You, go to y/n’s room and grab the papers on her bed.’

The guard left immediately, running down the corridor.

‘Send a zombie their way.’

The staff nodded in response to his request and watched as you turned to look at the zombie now watching you through the window. Dr Kim focused as Wooyoung pulled the gun up and shot it through the head immediately, not wasting a second.

‘They’re not afraid to kill anymore. They know that they’ll only wake the person up. I want them out of there as soon as possible.’

‘Do you want us to organise for them to die? Or to pull their pods out?’ One of the crew asked.

‘No.’ Dr Kim muttered. ‘They know too much, and there’s no guarantee that they won’t figure it out again. Fake memories are hard to create and even harder to make last, our best chance was putting the two of them into a relationship. If that didn’t work before it’s not worth wasting the time and resources to try and do it again.’

‘So, what should we do doctor?’ The same person questioned.

‘There’s only one answer really, they can’t leave. We have to make sure they turn. Push forwards the mutation of the virus. What stage are we at currently?’

‘Stage 3 out of 5.’ Another voice appeared from somewhere in the room, Dr Kim didn’t know and didn’t care where.

‘Mutate it. I want stage 5. Enable the virus to be transmitted through insects. If they get bitten by an infected mosquito, I want them infected, if they eat a vegetable grown near infected bugs in the soil, I want the disease to travel to the food, if they smell a flower pollinated by a bee, I want that bee to be infected and I want the virus to transmit to them. Understand?’

He looked around at the staff behind him, all of them shouting agreement with his plan and turning towards their computers to put it into action.

The guard appeared again, holding out the papers towards Dr Kim. The doctor practically ripped them out of his hands, rolling them out on the table in front of him. He pointed to one drawing in particular.

‘Look, they’ve planned their route.’ He could now see exactly the journey you were planning to take to reach the army base. He checked the screen and saw the mutated virus already starting to have effects. He smiled and turned to the staff in front of him. ‘What do you say we send a few old friends to break up the party?’

---

Wooyoung reacted before either you or Jeno could, pulling the gun into position and shooting a bullet straight into the zombie’s forehead. You watched as its body hit the ground with a dull thud.

‘Jesus.’ Wooyoung breathed. ‘I forgot how terrifying seeing one of those was.’

Jeno turned around where he was and sent Wooyoung a nod.

‘Yeah me too, thanks.’

Wooyoung shrugged it off.

‘Probably better for them right? I mean, they’re gonna wake up now.’

‘Yeah, you’re right’ You piped up. ‘We can’t be afraid to pull the trigger anymore. We know nothing bad is going to happen so just, aim for the head so that it’s quick and doesn’t leave them in pain.’

Jeno and Wooyoung nodded slowly. As well as the three of you knew what was waiting for you on the outside of the simulation, and that dying here was nothing to be afraid of, it was still difficult to pull that trigger.

‘We seriously need to move, we don’t want to stop if we can help it.’ Wooyoung said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder.

Jeno turned to you expectantly, waiting to see what direction you were going in.

‘Ok, from the routes I created, we need to head West from here. Luckily for us, there’s an almost direct path from where we are now, to the army base.’

You pointed in the direction you needed to head as you spoke, Wooyoung nodding in agreement. Having someone around who knew these areas would be incredibly useful.

The three of you set off, your hands firmly on your weapons as you began your trek to the army base. You walked all the way down the high street, crossing the empty roads to take other paths. You ensured that you always took the largest street possible, not wanting to meet a group of zombies in a tight alleyway.

All the minutes seemed to blur into one as you walked. Your mind began to wander and you thought of I.N. You wondered if he had gotten into trouble when they had found him alone in the pod room. You were scared that they were going to wipe his memories again, but you were even more afraid that they were going to hurt him. You hoped that he had stayed true to his word and that he was looking after Donghyuck’s sister. You were praying that she would be okay.

The tall buildings gradually began to shrink as you left the centre of the town you were dropped in. Jeno was a few steps ahead of the rest of you and Wooyoung, naturally walking at a faster pace. The silence between the three of you was getting louder with every step when suddenly, the low groan that you had not missed in the slightest, cut through. Your heart sank, out of annoyance rather than fear.

That annoyance quickly evolved into fear when you recognised the zombie leading the silent pack walking towards you.

It was Hongjoon.

Someone who had run the army base when you were there. He had offered you support before and after every run, he had been there to listen anytime you needed to talk. You knew he was someone who could be trusted.

But here he was. In front of you, stumbling forward as though he had no idea who you were.

Wooyoung didn’t move, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to talk.

‘Hyung?’

Hongjoon’s eyes shot towards his younger friend, opening slightly wider for a second, as if in recognition, before they turned back to you, narrowed, and he shot forwards. He moved like lightening, you only had a second to shout out before you were on the ground, underneath Hongjoon who was biting at you with everything he had.

Wooyoung pulled his gun into position and aimed at his friend’s head. He could hear your shouts as you pushed against the infected boy with all your might, yet he didn’t pull the trigger.

‘Wooyoung, shoot!’ You screamed. ‘It’s not real! Shoot!’

A shot rang out and Hongjoon collapsed on top of you. You rolled him off you and on to the ground and looked up. It wasn’t Wooyoung who had fired, it was Jeno. Jeno grabbed you by the hand and pulled you up. He turned to shoot an accusing look at Wooyoung, preparing to say something, but he was interrupted by the rest of the crowd of zombies breaking out into a run behind you.

The three of you took off. You tried leading the boys on your planned route to the army base but more zombies just appeared from that direction.

‘How are there so many all of a sudden?’ Jeno asked in between breaths.

‘I don’t know!’ You said, frustration bubbling up inside you. ‘It’s almost as if they’re spawning here.’ Then a sudden realisation dawned on you. ‘The lab must have found our plans. They know our route, we have to find another way.’

Jeno’s eyes widened in desperation, the both of you wracking your brains in an attempt to think of an escape plan. You hadn’t noticed that in an attempt to escape the undead hoard chasing you, you had circled back and were heading back into the main city.

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s voice rang out.

‘I know a way. Follow me.’

He sped up as he ran back into the streets of the city he knew. You and Jeno both followed, piling on the extra speed in order to keep up. You turned a sharp corner a few seconds after Wooyoung and found him attempting to open a manhole cover. Jeno crouched down next to him to help and, together, they lifted the metal cover off. It was on hinges so it should be easy to close after you.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me.’ You groaned.

‘It’s either down here with a few rats, or out there with them.’ Wooyoung nodded in the direction of the zombies. Their footsteps getting dangerously loud.

You sighed, nodding in agreement. Wooyoung climbed in first and then Jeno held out a hand to offer you help.

‘No.’ You bluntly refused.

‘No? y/n I thought you said you were ok going in? We don’t have-’

‘Not that kind of no.’ You cut him off. ‘I’m going in, I’m just going in last.’

You could see Jeno was confused so you explained hurriedly, trying to keep your voice as steady and as hard as possible. But you didn’t quite manage to stop it form shaking.

‘The last time you offered to go last was at Mark’s and the next think I knew, I was watching you die. I don’t care if this is a simulation, I’m not risking it again.’

Jeno’s expression completely changed. He looked like he wanted to say something but Wooyoung voice travelled up from below before he could.

‘What the hell is taking you two so long? Don’t worry, I know these tunnels.’

Jeno swung his legs into the manhole, climbing down the ladder quickly. You waited until he was a few rungs down before lower yourself in too. You had just got your lower body in and you were reaching for the lid when the first zombie skidded around the corner. It let out a sort of yell, almost in triumph, and you slamming the cover shut over you. You bent yourself in half slightly, not being far enough down the ladder to close the top and stand up straight.

You thought that would be okay but the lid started to move up again and you got a glimpse of the zombie trying to open it.

‘Wooyoung! How do I shut this?’ You screamed down.

‘The wheel on the inside. Turn it!’ Wooyoung yelled back, the panic clear in his voice.

If you didn’t get this wheel locked it would be game over.

You tried to step down slightly, not being able to pull the door down with force at the angle you were standing. However, it was incredibly difficult as you had both your hands on the wheel above you. You placed another foot down, but this time you misjudged where the step was and slipped. You went down about two rungs, a yelp escaping you as you did so.

‘Y/n!’ Wooyoung screamed from the floor.

You felt a strong hand come up and grab the back of your thigh, steadying you.

‘You’re okay. Now, close it.’ Jeno’s words brought you right back down to earth and filled you with the strength you needed.

You gave the cover a powerful tug, yanking the wheel to the right as you did so. You kept both hands there, turning the wheel until you couldn’t physically turn it anymore. Eventually you stilled, your hands stopping their frantic movements.

You stood where you were, pausing just to catch your breath.

‘We’ve gotta keep moving.’ Wooyoung’s voice echoed up through the tunnel and you nodded.

You released the metal wheel above you, instead grabbing the ladder and lowering yourself down onto the floor.

‘Let’s go. I know a path into the woods, I’m pretty sure that it has an exit close to the army base.’

Wooyoung made to move off but Jeno’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the shoulder, stilling his movements.

‘Not so fast kiddo.’ He said, staring the shorter male down.

‘I’m older than you.’ Wooyoung muttered, his eyes facing the floor. Despite the fact that Wooyoung was older, it was obvious who had the power in this verbal exchange.

‘You didn’t take the shot.’ Jeno said, watching as Wooyoung swallowed. ‘You had a clear shot, you wouldn’t have hit y/n, but you didn’t take the shot. Instead you put her in danger, and in turn, endangering everything that we’re trying to do here. You know it’s not going harm them. Why didn’t you take the shot?’

‘I tried to. But he was still my friend. I was staring at the face of my friend. I know that he’s going to wake up, and that he’s probably better off dead than as one of those, but... I just didn’t think it would be that hard to pull the trigger. I’ve done it plenty of times. Hell, I even did it earlier today, but when I was looking into the eyes of someone I knew... I couldn’t do it.’

Jeno sighed deeply. You could tell that he understood where Wooyoung was coming from.

‘Ok.’ He said, Wooyoung looking up in shock at how fast Jeno moved on from it. ‘No one got hurt, and hopefully by taking this route we shouldn’t have to see anyone else.’

Wooyoung smiled thankfully, turning around and pointing down the tunnel.

‘It’s this way.’

And once again, you set off.

---

Your throat was dry, your legs ached and you were tired. You had been walking for hours and you were worried that it was going to be dark when you left the safety of these tunnels. Wooyoung wasn’t lying when he said that he knew them well, from the easy way he was guiding you through them, he had clearly spent a lot of time in them when he was younger. You had to admit that Wooyoung had made himself an invaluable member of your team. You really had no idea how you could have gotten this far without him.

As thankful as you were to everything Wooyoung had done so far, you had never loved him more than when he told you that you could stop walking. He approached the ladder in front of him, gently placing his hands on either side and whispering.

‘This is it.’

He climbed first, turning the wheel to unlock it at the top and wincing as it creaked loudly as he pushed it open. Wooyoung paused with it open slightly, listening for the tell tale noises of the undead, and then continued to open it completely.

You climbed out of the top, savouring the fresh air, pausing to listen for a guttural groan or ominous footsteps but, instead, you were greeted with a blissful silence.

Well, almost blissful.

‘Careful!’

A voice echoed through woods, a voice strangely familiar that caused both yours and Jeno’s head shoot up.

‘That sounded like Renjun.’ You whispered breathlessly, the thought of seeing your longest friend after what had felt like an eternity was almost alien to you.

‘I know. But it can’t have been him, he’s at the base.’ Jeno reasoned.

‘Jaemin, you ridiculously stupid moron.’ The voice appeared again, causing you and Jeno to share a smile.

‘No.’ Jeno’s eyes curved up into crescents. ‘That’s Renjun.’

‘Renjun!’ You shouted out, starting to jog towards where you had heard him before.

You didn’t get a reply, causing to you panic as an indescribable feeling of sadness took over you.

‘Renjun, it’s the grief. It can cause you to hear people when they’re not there.’

‘I’m not an idiot, San. I know my best friend’s voice.’

Your heart sped up again, warmth spreading throughout your entire body as you called out.

‘Renjun?’

This time you got a reply.

‘Y/n?’ You heard footsteps speed up, getting louder as they got closer to you. ‘Oh please be real, please be real, please be-’

Renjun turned into your line of vision, his words and movements stopping suddenly as he laid eyes on you. You smiled at him, tears starting to blur your vision.

‘Hi.’ You said.

That was all it took. Renjun threw himself forwards, pulling you in for the tightest hug you had ever felt in your life. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him back, feeling his tears begin to wet your neck.

‘You’re real. I knew it, you’re real.’

His words got lost in a haze of disbelief and shock at the sight of you standing in front of him, alive.

He pulled away, cupping your hands with his face, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He just stared at you, utter amazement gracing his features. Then, finally, a smile broke out. The largest smile you had ever seen. He wrapped his arms back around your waist, pulling you around in a circle as he screamed happily into the air.

‘I was right!’

It was at this moment that Jeno, Jaemin and San also found their way to where you were. You pulled away from Renjun, staring at the two boys behind him as Renjun’s eyes locked on to Jeno. You stroked Renjun’s face one last time as you moved away. Renjun hit Jeno at full force, hugging him tight and bursting into tears again. You didn’t move, looking only at Jaemin. He was staring back at you, clearly not knowing what to say.

So you smiled.

‘Miss me?’ You asked, watching as Jaemin’s face broke out into a smile matching yours and he laughed with glee as he ran towards you. He picked you up in a hug, his laughter never stopping. You couldn’t help but laugh back. He put you down, finally managing to get some words out.

‘Oh god I missed you so much. You’re alive!’

You nodded, the smile on your face was starting to hurt but you couldn’t make it smaller even if you wanted to. You pulled away from him after a short while, allowing him to greet Jeno and you were left facing San.

San didn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to stare at his feet.

‘San?’ You asked, hoping that he would at least look at you.

You could see the boy blinking rapidly, chewing on his bottom lip at the same time. Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked towards him and pulled him in for a hug. The second your hand made contact with his shoulder, San broke down, hugging you as tight as the others and whispering about how sorry he was.

‘Shhhhh, it wasn’t your fault. You did exactly what you should have done.’ You comforted him.

You pulled away sooner than you wanted to, but you knew he had to see Wooyoung.

‘I have a surprise for you.’ You said, smiling at him.

San sent you a teary but confused smile back, and you wordlessly grabbed his hand and turned him around.

Upon seeing Wooyoung, San moved faster than you had ever seen him move before. He shot towards the boy, Wooyoung moving forwards too as they reunited. Renjun appeared back at your shoulder, keeping an arm around you, as if to remind himself that you were really there.

‘I’m so happy you’re okay, but I have to ask, how?’

You shared a look with Jeno and called out to Wooyoung and San.

‘We’ll tell you on the way. It’s not an easy story.’

‘On the way? Wait where are you going?’ Jaemin asked, placing a hand on your chest to stop you moving.

‘Back to the army base.’ Jeno explained. ‘There’s something there that we need to do.’

Renjun and Jaemin shared a nervous look.

‘What’s happened?’ You asked, your hope diminishing by the second.

‘We’ve lost the army base.’ Renjun said bluntly. ‘People started turning from the inside, with no scratch, bite, or even contact with a zombie. It was as if it was in the air. Anyone who could abandoned the building immediately. Within under two hours it wasn’t safe anymore.’

‘Are you three the only ones who made it out?’ Wooyoung voiced the question you were too afraid to ask.

‘We don’t know.’ San chimed in. ‘The three of us left within a few seconds of each other. All we know is that we were the first out. If anyone got out after us, they can’t be far away.’

‘This isn’t part of the plan.’ You whispered, bringing your hand up to your head to rub your forehead.

‘What plan?’ Renjun asked, his eyes flickering between you and Jeno.

‘The plan. The plan that’s going to save us, to end this all.’ You rambled, not even fully sure of what you were saying.

‘End this all? Wait do you know how to stop the apocalypse?’ Jaemin asked.

‘There is no apocalypse!’ You exploded. ‘None of this is fucking real! It’s a damn simulation.’

‘A simulation...’ Renjun repeated.

‘Yes, a simulation. Aren’t the three of us proof enough that this can’t be real life. Jaemin, you shot me. In the head. How the fuck would I recover from that?’

Jaemin flinched at the reminder of your death. Jeno, noticing how your distressed state was unsettling others, tried to calm you down.

‘y/n, just breath for a minute ok?’

You whirled around.

‘No! Not okay. I’m so fucking done with this. How much hell have we been put through. I have killed people, and watched them been killed. I have lost friends, lost memories, left people behind, fought for my life and it still isn’t enough. When is this shit going to end? What more can they put me through?’

You turned towards the sky and screamed.

‘Fuck you! You hear that Dr Kim? Fuck you and your little experiment. I’m still finding a way to shut you down. Because you know what? I’m getting that happy ending. Cause after all the shit you’ve put me through, I fucking deserve it!’

You sat down, trying to catch your breath after your meltdown. You stared at the grass in front of you, ignoring the five sets of eyes watching your every move.

‘You went through something pretty rough on the outside didn’t you?’ Jaemin asked, assuming there was something more to your anger than what you had just learnt.

‘Yeah. It wasn’t easy.’ Jeno clarified. You were glad he didn’t go into more detail and even more glad that the boys didn’t ask for more.

You stood up, pulling your gun around to your front and took off.

‘Uhhh, y/n? Where are you going?’ Renjun asked.

‘To the army base.’ You declared. ‘I’m still shutting this thing down. Even if I had to do it alone.’

‘Who the hell said you were going to be doing it alone?’ Jeno’s words caused you to stop and turn around.

‘You’re coming with me?’

Jaemin shrugged, grabbing the pistol that Jeno offered him and beginning to walk towards you, the other boys all following.

‘Well, we started this together. Might as well end it that way to.’

---

The doors to the army base were open when you arrived. The wide gates were oddly unnerving, open gates were normally a symbol of welcoming, but this only reminded you of the gates to hell.

‘Remember, just get to the button and press it. That’s all we need to do so just focus on that.’ Jeno reminded you all. His voice was clear and steady, not a hint of fear in it. It was the voice of a true leader.

You stepped forward, ready to face whatever came at you.

---

You don’t know where it went so wrong.

Only you and Jeno were left alive and unbitten. The rest of you had been picked off one by one. They appeared out of nowhere, moved quickly and silently and were almost impossible to find. You had no idea what had made the zombies so dangerous all of a sudden. They had lost the slow paces of the previous kind, the fast bursts only maintained for a few seconds, and now had the agility of 20 year olds. It was as if they had retained the characteristics of the people they used to be. It was even harder to know that it was you friends picking you off just predators pick off the weakest member of the herd.

The two of you moved silently, aware of the moving shadows that signified the walking ghosts of your friends. You had only seen a few faces yet. You’d seen Chan, Changbin and Jongho as well as Mark and Chenle. It was seeing Mark and Chenle that was the most difficult, and in that minute you understood better than ever before, why Wooyoung couldn’t pull the trigger on Hongjoon.

A scream came from your left and you turned and blindly fired. You missed and watched as a figure you recognised to be Jaemin’s slunk back down the corridor.

You were only a few minutes away from the button, but at the pace you were moving, it would take you ages. You had to speed up. There was a door up ahead, one that was already open, as if it was awaiting the two of you. It only took one short shared look for the plan to be formed. You counted to three under your breath.

One

Two

Three

You threw yourself forwards, sprinting towards the open door as fast as you could, Jeno doing the same. Jeno reached the doorway before you did, and, as you cleared the distance, he slammed the door shut behind you.

You whirled around as you heard another loud bang on the door and saw Jeno pushing himself up against it to hold it in place. All of a sudden it made perfect sense as to why the door had been open.

It had no hinges.

The zombified bodies of your friends were pushing against it, clawing desperately to try and reach Jeno.

‘y/n, you have to go! Run now and find that button.’ Jeno’s voce was strained, all his energy being used to keep the door in place.

‘No, Jeno you have to go. You know the base better than I do.’ You reasoned.

‘Do you think I can go anywhere right now?’ He asked, pushing back on the door again as it began to budge. ‘Don’t be an idiot y/n, just go! I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.’

So you ran, you turned on your tail and sprinted down the hallway. You were pretty sure that you only had to get down this hallway, one set of stairs and one last door before you were at the button.

You were so close. Surely nothing could stop you now. All the zombies were upstairs, you had a free run.

You had just turned the second last corner of the corridor when you felt two hands grab your arm tightly and teeth quickly sank into the skin.

You let out a scream in pain, the zombie releasing your arm and stepping back from you, its work now done. You spun around and came face to face with the zombie who bit you.

Donghyuck.

Your heart stopped as you looked at the boy you loved. He stared back at you with no recognition, his eyes dull and his skin coloured with a sickening grey tine. You didn’t have time to mourn him. Your only hope was now getting to that button before you turned and forgot who you were. If you turned, all hope was lost and this would all have been for nothing. You knew from the last time you were bitten that you only had a few minutes, probably less if the doctors at the lab had mutated the virus. The pain in your upper arm was excruciating.

You stumbled forward, trying desperately to remember Jeno’s drawing of the army base layout. You turned a corner and came across a set of stairs, taking you down into the basement.

You took the first one, you vision starting to disappear as dark spots danced across the scene in front of you.

You took the fourth one. Focusing only on that button you had to do something with.

You landed at the bottom.

You stood there, not moving, confused beyond belief as to what you were doing. Why were you here? You had no reason to be at this level. You should be upstairs so that you could leave the base soon.

You turned around, away from the door in front of you. You looked up the stairs and saw Jeno. His eyes a cloudy white colour, and the veins across his arms and neck running black. Your eyes focused on a small black object behind him, however, something that was built into the wall, you had never noticed it before.

A camera.

You swung yourself around so that you were facing towards the door again. You knew what you were doing. You knew who you were. You knew what was behind that door.

You turned the handle, throwing yourself against it when it didn’t open. You banged the door with your shoulder, screaming in frustration when it refused to open.

You took a step back and lifted your foot. You kicked the door with all your force, relief flooding your system when it swung open. However, the momentum of the kick carried you through and you didn’t have the balance to keep yourself upright. You landed on your back, a sickening crack echoing off the walls as your head came in contact with the concrete floor.

You groaned in pain, recognising how your voice was sounding more and more like the undead’s. You summoned every bit of strength that you had and pulled yourself up so that you were on all fours.

You tucked your legs under you and pushed yourself up from the floor.

This was the room that Jeno was talking about. You vaguely registered a tunnel to the left, one that you assumed led out into the forest. And in front of you, only a few steps away, was an almost empty control panel with only one small button on it.

The entire room was spinning and your vision was getting darker by the second. You didn’t know if you had any strength left to continue forwards, holding on to the door to keep yourself upright. You head was pounding, your arm was throbbing and your heart was aching.

Your body was screaming at you with everything it had for you to stop, to give up, to rest. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give up now. Not when you were so close.

You stepped forwards. You thought of Renjun. The boy who had never left your side since the day he met you. He was fiercely loyal, always prepared to do everything he could to protect the ones he loved. To protect you.

You stepped again. You thought of Jaemin. The boy who had saved your life more times than you cared to admit. He had diligently watched over you, cared for you and loved you when you couldn’t do it yourself. He wouldn’t hesitate to keep going. To rescue you.

You stepped once more, collapsing on the counter in front of you, the button in sight. You thought of Jeno. The boy who had been through exactly what you had and was the only one to know the true pain of it. He had protected you from more than you knew and you knew he would never stop protecting you. To shield you.

You pulled yourself up, the button within your reach. You thought of Donghyuck. The boy who you loved more than anything else in this world. The boy who you would do anything for. He was sunshine personified, always finding any way he could to make you happy and always ready to fight anything that had made you sad. There wasn’t a thing that he would not do for you. He would volunteer to go through hell and back a million times without even thinking about it. To save you.

You threw yourself forwards, the last thing you saw being the button spinning with the room as your vision disappeared completely. You brought your hand down in a final attempt to hit the kill switch, your brain only managing to register one final sound as your legs gave out completely and you blacked out.

Click.

---

The dull pain at the back of your head was the first thing you noticed. You tried opening your eyes, but your eyelids felt so heavy it was impossible. You gave up, trying instead to listen to the movement around you. You managed to register a woman’s voice somewhere in the haze.

You tried again to open your eyes, this time succeeding slightly. This prompted the woman watching over you to call for a nurse. You couldn’t see the nurse through the blurred slit of vision you had, but she had a soothing voice, one that radiated comfort.

‘Don’t overwork yourself y/n. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. Just take your time and you’ll be able to wake up.’

You took a deep breath, relaxing your eyelids so that they were fully shut, and tried again. Finally, you managed to open them all the way. The room gradually came into focus, and you saw that you were lying on your bed in your room at the lab. You saw the nurse next to you and your eyes widened.

‘This place- it’s not safe. It’s not what you think. We need to-’

The nurse put a hand on your shoulder, pushing your body back into the bed.

‘Calm down y/n, it’s okay. We know. A Yang Jeong-In called and explained the situation to us. At first, we were skeptical, but we sent an investigation over anyway. We owe you a great deal y/n. You’ve saved a lot of people.’

She smiled at you as you fell back into the pillows.

‘I didn’t do it alone.’ You insisted. ‘Wait, how long have I been asleep? How long was I in the simulation for.’

The nurse chuckled.

‘Don’t worry sweetheart. You haven’t lost a year of your life. In fact, it’s only just been around 30 hours since you went back in. You saved us in a day.’

‘Wait... it worked? We did it?’ You whispered, not quite believing that it was finally over.

‘You did it y/n. You’re safe now. In fact, your friends are also all awake. When you’re ready, you can come and see them.’

The nurse smile at you as you nodded. You began to sit up, but fell back immediately when the pain in your head flared up again. The nurse grabbed a pill and some water from your bedside table and handed them to you.

‘Here, take this. You took a nasty fall in the simulation and your body is convinced that it has concussion. Now since it didn’t really happen, you don’t, but it may hurt for a short while. This should help.’

You nodded absentmindedly as she spoke, purely obsessed with the thought of seeing your friends again.

You attempted to sit up again, this time with much more ease.

‘Wow, that worked fast.’ You commented, causing a light laugh from the nurse at your side.

She gave you a supporting hand as you climbed out of bed and stood up. You walked shakily over to the door, leaning on the frame slightly for support as the nurse opened it.

You headed outside, amazed by what you were greeted with. There were police, detectives and special investigators all over the scene. Dr Kim was sat in the lobby when you passed, in handcuffs and being read his rights. He looked up as you walked by, and if looks could kill, you would have been a pile of ash on the floor. But they couldn’t. So instead, you paused, held eye contact for a second and smiled before moving on.

You were finished with that.

Your nurse led you to the room that you recognised as the test centre. It was where all your skills had been testing once you left the simulation the first time.

‘The room has been cleared out and turned into a relaxing space. At the moment, we’re just using if for your group. We thought that since you saved all of us you deserved your own area.’

The genuine smile on the nurse’s face made you laugh in happiness. She turned the handle and pushed the door open.

‘I’ll leave you be.’ She whispered from behind, pulling it shut gently as you walked it.

The sight in front of you brought tears to your eyes. Jeno and Jaemin were collapsed next to each other of a sofa, looking at something on a phone in front of them, Chenle and Jisung were attempting to teach Renjun a sort of clapping game, Chan and I.N. were standing in the far corner chatting with Mark and a few others and San and Wooyoung were laughing at something over a box of pizza.

But the best sight of all, was right in front of you.

There, sat on the floor, his little sister curled up in his lap as he peppered little kisses all over her face, was Donghyuck. Alive and happy. He held he close, treasuring the fact that he got to have her back. He laughed at something she said, the sound reaching your heart immediately and you realised just how much you had missed him.

Renjun noticed you first. He had given up on learning whatever game Chenle and Jisung were trying to teach him and turned around, coming face to face with your smiling figure.

‘Look who it is!’ He announced, easily gaining the attention of the rest of the room. They all turned around to look at you, smiles breaking across all of their faces as they did so. ‘Our saving grace.’

‘Lets hear it for our hero!’ Jeno called out, causing the room to erupt in cheers, screams and claps as you stood there slightly awkwardly.

You looked at Hyuck again, this time finding him staring right back at you. His sister moved off his lap, allowing him to stand. The entire room was watching as he made his way towards you. He didn’t break stride, instead choosing to pull you in towards him for a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pressed you against his chest. Your arms moved up by themselves, finding their place behind his neck and holding on for dear life.

The hug got tighter and more desperate the longer it went on, Donghyuck holding onto you as if you slip away if he let go. Little did he know, you weren’t going anywhere. He mumbled out a few words, you only just managing to catch them because of how his face was buried into your neck.

‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ You whispered back, relieved to finally be back with him.

‘Don’t you guys think that you two are slightly beyond hugging?’ Renjun’s voice interrupted your moment, causing you both to turn and stare at him incredulously. ‘Come on! If this experience has taught us anything, surely it’s that time is precious and we shouldn’t waste it dancing around our feelings.’

As much as you loved Renjun, you had never wanted to hit him more than you did at that moment. You wanted to talk to Hyuck about your feelings but not in front of everyone and, now that the reality of that conversation was dawning on you, you were nervous for it.

Hyuck, on the other hand, seemed to ponder Renjun words before turning back to you.

‘You know, he has a point.’ He mused a cheeky smile on his face.

‘Hmmm?’ You hummed, not sure where he was going with this.

Donghyuck simply took a small breath before pulling you in again. He used his hands, that were still resting on your waist, you pull you in closer, and then moved on up to cup your face as he leaned it. You had about half a second to understand what was happening before his lips were on yours.

Donghyuck kissed you.

Finally, after all these years and struggles, you finally got to kiss the boy you loved. You kissed him back, shyly at first but, as with the hug, the emotions grew. Before you knew it you were pouring all the love you had for the boy into your kiss, praying that he would be able to feel it.

When you finally pulled away you stared into his eyes. You ignored the cheers and shouts of “finally” coming from your friends, only focusing on the boy in front of you. He gently tilted his head forwards, so that his forehead was pressed to yours.

‘I love you.’ He whispered.

‘I love you too.’ You replied, your voice as quiet as his, but your words just as powerful.

---

After a couple of hours, you and Hyuck eventually excused yourself from the rest of your friends, choosing to instead go back to your room and spend some time alone together. Hyuck’s sister had headed back to her room earlier, leaving just the two of you wandering the halls side by side.

‘You know.’ Hyuck grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he talked. ‘i always knew that, if any of us was gonna save the world, it would be you.’

You blushed.

‘I didn’t save the world... Besides, I don’t know why I’m getting all the credit! Without everyone in that room, we wouldn’t have done it.’

‘I know.’ Hyuck giggled. ‘But you’re still the one who pressed that button. And according to Jeno, you’re the one who figured out the truth as well. Let me just compliment you! I like being able to say that my girlfriend saved the world.’

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

‘Girlfriend?’ You questioned, watching as Hyuck began to get flustered.

‘Uhhh- I mean... we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet but... hopefully?’ He questioned, looking shyly at you.

‘Sounds perfect.’ You grinned, squeezing his hand that was in yours.

And for a minute, all was right with the world. Until two words cause Donghyuck to freeze where he was, terror consuming him.

‘You bastard!’ Donghyuck’s father came storming up to the two of you. ‘What gives you the right to act that way? Thinking you can treat me like that? I don’t care if it was in a simulation, you’re going to pay for that.’

Donghyuck’s father lifted up a fist, in an attempt to hit him, but Hyuck was faster. He pushed on the opposite shoulder on his father’s body and stepped back, watching as the momentum of his father’s punch threw his body around in a full circle. Donghyuck pushed you behind him slightly, wanting to protect you.

This action did not go unnoticed by his father, who tilted his head to the side, observing how you gripped his arm and how Donghyuck was shielding you.

‘Ohhhh.’ He realised, a wicked smile taking over his features. ‘So the two of you fell in love.’ The smile dropped off him completely. ‘How sweet. Maybe, if Donghyuck refuses to face the consequences of his actions, someone else could take the punishment for him.’

‘Back off!’ Donghyuck barked, moving you properly behind him. ‘You don’t touch her.’

‘Protective are we?’ His father teased but Hyuck didn’t reply. ‘What would you do to protect her? How far would you go? Would you shout at me? Would you threaten me? Would you hit me?’

His father had been circling Donghyuck all this time, trying to find the right moment to pounce. Only when you arm appeared around Donghyuck’s waist did he make his move. He lashed out with a harsh punch to Donghyuck’s shoulder, causing the boy to fall to the floor, and grabbed you holding you by the wrist with one hand and around the neck with the other.

‘I’ll kill you!’ Donghyuck screamed, losing his mind at the thought of his father hurting yet another person he loved. He stood up, preparing to charge at his father.

‘Take one step closer and I’ll cut off her air supply.’ His dad’s voice was quiet, no more theatrics or teases, just a pure, cold-blooded threat. Then his voice changed again, back into the taunting manner it was previously. ‘Or maybe I’ll just do it now.’ He began to push down slightly, making you swallow out of discomfort. He gradually pushed down more, making it increasingly difficult for you to breathe. ‘Maybe that will finally get you to throw a punch.’

Down the end of the corridor you recognised the police uniform, meaning that Donghyuck’s father had run out of time. You swung your foot underneath you, taking him by surprise and effectively ruining his balance. Hyuck took his chance while his father was out of it and pulled you back into the safety on his arms. He stroked the hair out of your face.

‘Are you okay?’ He asked, concern and guilt prominent on his features.

‘I’m okay.’ You reassured, falling back into his embrace.

‘You bitch!’ Donghyuck’s father roared and he prepared to throw himself at the two of you again. But this time he was met with the police. One officer tackled him immediately, forcing him to the ground as another secured his arms behind his back with a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

You and Hyuck watched as he was arrested on suspicion of the murder of Donghyuck’s mother and multiple account of domestic, physical and verbal abuse. Just as he was being pulled up he look at Donghyuck one last time.

‘When will you be a man and learn how to throw a punch.’ He spat.

Hyuck stood up calmly, pulling you with him and keeping an arm around you at all times, but he never took his eyes off his father.

‘Being a man isn’t about being able to throw a punch. It’s about what you would take a punch for. I will never throw a punch, because I will never be like you. Goodbye father.’

You watched as Donghyuck’s father was dragged away in handcuffs. Only once he had disappeared around the corner did you turn to Hyuck.

‘I’m proud of you.’ You smiled slightly.

‘Thank you.’ Hyuck whispered, smiling back and placing a kiss on your forehead. ‘I have one favour to ask you though.’

‘Yeah?’ You looked up at him.

‘Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted.’ He said, watching as you burst into laughter at his mundane request.

‘Sure we can.’ You agreed, your body starting to agree with Hyuck.

---

You lay in your bed, your head on Donghyuck’s chest, his arms around you and your legs entwined. You’d been mindlessly chatting for the last few minutes but the conversation had since then drifted off into a comfortable silence.

‘I figured it out you know.’ Donghyuck informed you suddenly, causing you to look up at him from where you were laying.

‘What did you figure out?’ You asked, entertaining his antics.

‘That it wasn’t a real virus and that there were higher powers responsible for it. I figured it out first.’ His slightly smug yet still teasing voice brought a smile to your lips.

‘How did you do that?’ You were genuinely curious as to how he had come to this conclusion.

‘Remember? At the beginning, as soon as the virus broke out, I told you it was government created.’ Now the smugness was really coming through on his voice, showing how he was clearly enjoying this.

‘Go to sleep Hyuck.’ You chuckled.

‘I’m just saying.’ He whined, pulling his arms around you tighter.

You didn’t reply to that one, choosing instead to smile. You nuzzled further into Hyuck’s chest, relishing in the fact that you finally get to be close to him.

And that’s how you spent your first night of freedom. Curled up next to the boy you loved, with him whispering sweet nothings into your ear, all thoughts and dangers of the simulation far behind you.

Turns out you finally did get your happy ever after.

173 notes · View notes

winterandwords · 2 years

Text

My current writing process

If you’d asked me a couple of years ago, I would’ve told you I was a hardcore plotter. I did a bit of discovery writing at the beginning of a new project to get to know my characters, but once those people were in my head, I created a detailed outline and I stuck to it until the book was finished. Ask me now and I’ll tell you that’s how I wrote books I ended up not really liking.

I can’t get too annoyed with past-me for all that compulsive planning because that’s my approach to anything project-shaped. I plan and I schedule and I organise like I’m on the national efficiency team at the project management Olympics. I don’t mean I’m not flexible. I am. But I plan to be flexible. I have flexibility built into my system. And it works for absolutely everything, except writing. Which isn’t great, when you’re a writer.

I noticed “This book is sort of OK and I don’t hate it, but the seed of the story I actually wanted to tell is still buried in it” had become a theme in my creative life. I don’t count the first two novellas I wrote in this pattern because they were 100% learning experiences and while I think they’re OK-ish and I’m happy to have shared them online when I did, they definitely aren’t representative of what I write now.

The other four novels though. I basically spent four years writing the wrong books. Again, I don’t hate them and I’m glad I shared them when I did, but they’re a million miles from what I wanted to write and I didn’t even notice until after they were finished. I dug out the still-beating heart of one of them to use as the foundation of November Breaks and the other three, a trilogy, introduced me to a character whose story I wanted to tell in more detail (info about that coming up once I have a better grasp on what it’s going to look like).

I regret nothing. Those were still great outcomes. But I don’t want to have to write a whole book, or a whole series, to find the story I actually want to write and then start over again to do that. I found my current process about a year ago when I decided to take some time off all things internet-related, ignore all expectations (including my own) and allow myself to write the book I was writing the way I wanted to write it, however long that took.

I know. No deadlines. It was weird. But it was also good. I got into discovery writing in a way I’d never let myself experience before. The thought of just writing without knowing what came next used to terrify me and I’m still not sure I could write an entire book that way without stopping at some point to put everything into some kind of summarised order to refer to, but I was surprised at how well things flowed.

The book is finished, drafted, and has been through two rounds of editing now, so I feel like I can talk about the whole process at this point. The strangest part of the experience was reaching the end. I didn’t realise I was there until I was there. I kept trying to write, but nothing would come out. Then I took a short break, which usually helps, but I still couldn’t make more words happen. I was freaked out, so I spent a few days reading through the book as it stood to see if any revelations might happen.

The revelation that happened was understanding the book was complete already. I honestly would not have believed you if you told me that would be an occurrence in my life. No plan, no schedule, no deadlines, and the book still happened. While I was writing, it felt so much more intuitive and flowy than any other story I’ve worked on and I loved every second.

I also gave myself permission to dump or move parts I didn’t feel were working, and that made such a difference. Before, I would’ve been super stressed about that because it would throw my entire plan up in the air. With this book, it was fine. I approached it as a process of exploration and, because I had no deadlines, I didn’t feel like I was wasting time if I ended up scrapping a few pages or incorporating them into a different part of the book later.

Another new part of the process for me was not setting word-based goals. I kind of loved that because it was another step away from my usual hyper goal-based approach, but found I missed the obsessive component. I know it’s not good for me to indulge my obsessive tendencies too much. I know where that leads and we’re not going to get into that here, but trust me, I know it’s important to keep a handle on that. When I set a word-based goal for writing, I corral it into a specific period of time. This is why I love NaNoWriMo and Camp NaNoWriMo events. Yes, it’s a word-based goal, but it’s only for a month so I can arrange life around it (within reason) for a few weeks and plan a break for afterwards.

I’m aiming to focus on my new book for Camp NaNoWriMo in April and will be setting a very realistic goal. I don’t need that whole “challenge yourself to do more than you think you can” thing. I know I can write 50k words in two or three weeks, never mind a month. I also know I will obsess over doing it to the exclusion of everything else, including eating, sleeping and not being a complete asshole to everyone around me. I do not have a problem with achieving goals. I have a problem with remembering I’m a human being with mundane physical and emotional needs while I’m doing it.

I don’t want to get too into my Camp NaNo plan because it’s solid enough to talk much about yet and I’m definitely going to come back to it later, but I’m mentioning it now because it’s the first time since embracing discovery writing that I’ll be setting any kind of official goal, so it’ll be interesting to see how that goes.

That’s about as much as I can pin down my process right now. The more I write with this new sense of freedom and flexibility, the more I can see that the most significant part of my process is allowing my process to change.

#the shit in my head #writeblr #writeblr community #writer #writers #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #writers community #writing #am writing #writing community #original writer #original writers

3 notes · View notes

scripttorture · 4 years

Note

What are the key things to avoid in writing torture so that it does not become torture apologia? I know that it clearly needs to show that torture is not getting real information, long term physical and mental effects for the victims, but what else? My goal is to write a story that is painfully realistic and offers none of the apologia that we see mainstream fiction.

I feel like this is sort of a case of ‘how long a list would you like?’ and I don’t personally feel like listing things is a very helpful approach.

I cover the things I think are the most common tropes in this post over here.

There are a lot of things that torture can’t do that most fiction (and a lot of people) assume it can. I think that part of tackling torture properly means tackling those preconceptions, a lot of which come from fiction.

I’ll drop a couple of bullet points to give a general list of things that turn up a lot in fiction and don’t match the reality in ways that (my opinion) are harmful to the discussion generally.

Assuming torture ‘works’ as an interrogation technique (it does not)

Assuming victims are unaffected

Assuming torturers and witnesses are unaffected

Conversely assuming that victims are so effected they can’t have a life after torture

Assuming torturers can change strongly held beliefs (doesn’t work, see Rejali)

Showing torture as skilled/complicated/scientific, it is actually laughably simple

Showing torturers as violent ‘because’ they’re mentally ill, the evidence suggests they are usually mentally healthy before they start torturing

Underestimating the damage done by some torture techniques (especially clean tortures)

Assuming resistance to torture is unusual (it’s actually common)

The idea that ‘good guys’ can never torture

Moral judgements on a survivor’s symptoms

Assuming torturers control what victims experience

Assuming torture has no effect on organisations

Assuming that torture doesn’t have huge knock on effects on investigations in particular

Thought experiments with no basis in reality ie the ‘ticking bomb’ scenario, ‘well I would talk if I was in pain’ etc.

Ignoring (or misunderstanding) the memory problems torture generally causes

Ranking the pain of victims (usually this means saying victims with obvious scars had it ‘worse’ then those without)

Fundamental misunderstandings about what ‘counts’ as torture.

I could probably write an essay breaking down each of these bullet points individually.

Generally? I think if you’re new to researching this stuff and haven’t read many of the books on the sources page then it’s important to question the knock on effects of what you’re writing.

If prisoners are in ridiculous clothes is it possible they could be suffering from a temperature torture? If a prisoner is in a cell alone is it solitary confinement? If the food is bad is it to the extent that these people are on a starvation diet? (There have been cases of prisons over salting food and then rationing water.)

Question your own assumptions about how painful something is. Look up how harmful things are (if you’re unsure where to do that use the blog or my sources as a starting point.)

Remember that pain is a collection of sensations rather then a single one. We all have different degrees of tolerance for different sorts of pain. This makes the idea of a single ‘most painful’ thing nonsensical: it is at best the most painful thing for this particular individual.

Remember that inflicting pain is not complex.

Remember that torturers are human beings too. You don’t have to show them as ‘understandable’ or glorify them in order to avoid dehumanising them. I personally feel that painting them as monsters detracts from the issue: it shifts the focus from the systems that allow/encourage torture on to brutal individuals.

Because torture is by definition systematic abuse: abuse by the organisations and groups that have power/authority over others.

‘Police brutality’ is torture. Teachers abusing students is torture. Consider the systems at work in your story.

Beyond that though a lot of this does become a judgment call and I am open to the fact that people will draw the line in different places. Different survivors will draw the line in different places.

Survivors are a very diverse group of people. They’re singers, soldiers, house wives, activists, lawyers, labourers, journalists, chefs and a thousand other things.

I hope you don’t take this as discouragement but I don’t think there can ever be one story on torture. As with abuse there are dozens, hundreds of stories. And those stories may share some similarities but the differences, the diversity, is important too.

Yes there’s pain. But pain is not the end point.

Alleg describes arguing with his torturers because they called him ‘tu’ instead of ‘vous’ while he was being tortured. Fela marched his mother’s funeral procession past the military barracks almost as soon as he was released.

What I’m trying to illustrate here is that survivors are people and they do get on with their lives.

There is pain. There are lasting symptoms that make life more difficult. But this does not flatten people. There is still joy and anger and defiance and sorrow and every other normal human emotion.

There will always be more then one story.

And the positive side of that, for us, is that once you accept you can’t represent everyone at once there’s space for you to focus on telling this story. Instead of trying to tell all of them at once.

The most important things are to be honest about what you’re writing and to read about the reality of whatever it is you write.

As a simple grounding I’d suggest O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Monroe’s A Darkling Plain.

Monroe’s work is a selection of accounts from survivors of different traumatic events, including quite a few torture survivors. It shows the variety and diversity in survivors really well. O’Mara’s first and last chapters provide a good introduction to torture as a topic and his more detailed examinations of what torture does to the brain provide insight into victim experiences and the mechanics of why torture fails.

Finally, be kind to yourself. Work within your limits, both for research and for writing.

We are all learning. Including me. If you’re not happy with your first draft (or even your first story) that is OK. The next one will be better. Give yourself permission to make mistakes and learn from those mistakes.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#writing advice #tw torture #torture apologia #tackling torture apologia #writing torture #writing survivors #mental health #getting started #reality is not all about pain #torture survivors are not broken

91 notes · View notes

jumpship90 · 3 years

Text

Into the Multiverse!

“You can’t get any kind of connection with the lab?”

“Negative, Captain. Dr Welles’ terminal is not accepting transmission requests.”

Jaq swore under their breath. They really could have done with Phineas’ advice on this one.

One minute they’d been shuttling replacement parts for a generator down to the New Hope Centre, the next, they’d been thrown completely off course by a phenomena they had never encountered before. Since passing through the . . . what had ADA called it? Portal? Anomaly? Jaq wasn’t rightly sure what it was but the important point was their systems had gone haywire ever since they had been sent hurtling through, every alarm the Unreliable had (including a few they’d been previously unaware of) screaming at them until Parvati had gotten things under control. All was quiet now and that worried Jaq more.

They stared out the cockpit window at the ship before them – a mirror image of their own – and tapped their fingers against the arm of the captain’s chair, picking at the edge of the frayed leather.

“And you’re reading life forms aboard the . . . other Unreliable?”

“Correct, Captain.”

Was this some sort of trap? Another attempt by the deposed former Board members to undermine the new government in the system? Or something else? Something stranger?

“Transmission inbound. It appears to be from an alternate autonomous-digital-astrogator.”

ADA’s pixelated brows had disappeared upwards in surprise on the terminal. Jaq suspected their own expression was similar.

“Patch it through, ADA.”

There was a moment’s pause as the connection was secured and then a woman’s voice filled the cockpit, steady and authoritative.

“Am I speaking with the Captain of the Unreliable?” she asked.

“Correct,” Jaq replied, curiosity warring with caution. “And you are?”

Static crackled in the air and Jaq rubbed the back of their neck where their hair stood on end.

“I too, am the Captain of the Unreliable. My Unreliable, that is.” The voice sounded thoughtful now and tinged with what might have been excitement. “It would appear you and your crew have crossed into this Universe via a temporal rift.”

Right. Obviously. That made total sense, Jaq thought. They narrowed their eyes at the ship opposite, searching for . . . they weren’t really sure what. Markings from a mercenary group maybe? Or something off, something to mark it out as hostile. It really did appear, in every way, to be exactly the same as their own.

“You suspect a trap?” the unknown woman asked.

“Wouldn’t you?”

The alternate Captain hummed. “A reasonable assumption, to be certain, but not correct in this case, Captain . . ?”

“Evenshaw,” Jaq offered. “Captain Jaq Evenshaw.” There didn’t seem any risk in giving their name. It carried a little weight after all – or it did in their own universe at least, and if this woman was to be believed then that seemed unlikely to be the case here.

“And I am Captain Aethel Fiori de DeSoto,” she returned.

DeSoto? Was this some long-lost relative of Max’s? Well, at least that didn’t sound like the name of any Board loyalists Jaq had come across.

“Have you encountered the concept of the multiverse before, Captain Evenshaw?”

“Uhh . . .” It sounded like something Phineas might have mentioned once or twice but they couldn’t say they understood it.

“Not to worry,” the other captain offered and Jaq found her voice strangely reassuring. “If you are willing to meet – and I believe it may be mutually beneficial for us to do so – then I will do my best to explain. Though, it might be best, Captain Evenshaw, if you came alone. I think it would be prudent to avoid our two crews making contact.”

* * *

Jaq waited for the hiss of the airlock doors opening, their nerves tingling in anticipation. Their hands felt empty without the weight of a rifle but they had agreed to come unarmed. They tightened the strap on their body armour just for something to do.

“I believe you are making a grave mistake, Captain,” Max had said as they’d prepared to leave the safety of their own ship, and for once, even Felix hadn’t argued with him. Under other circumstances, Jaq would have been inclined to agree with the vicar, walking alone and unarmed into unknown territory wasn’t the brightest plan, nor the most strategically sound, but there was something about the tone of the other captain that set them at ease.

Still, Jaq was wary when they stepped through into the uncannily familiar confines of the alternate Unreliable.

“Aah, it’s you.”

Jaq froze just beyond the threshold of the airlock, taking in the striking woman before them. Her dark skin was framed by white hair and Jaq found themselves staring back into golden eyes that regarded them with curiosity. She stood a little over their own height, graceful limbed and with the confidently controlled posture that Jaq recognised as being that of a fellow soldier. They frowned and weighed her up, searching for any sign of hostility in those startling eyes.

“How nice to put a name to face,” Captain Fiori de DeSoto continued. “Or one of them, at least.”

Jaq’s confusion must have shone through their attempts to guard their expression as she offered a reassuring smile. “All will be explained. Please, accompany me somewhere we might speak more freely.”

With that she stood aside, welcoming them aboard the Unreliable. As Jaq stepped in, they thought they caught sight of a curious pair of eyes watching them from the hold before the figure skittered away. They followed Fiori de DeSoto up the stairs to the captain’s cabin, their hand hanging loose at their side, fingers just within reach of where their holster should have been.

“Tea?” the Captain asked upon entering the room.

Jaq nodded, staring about them, taking in the décor. This was the first real difference they had noted since boarding. Where their room was adorned with tossball posters, photographs and hastily scribbled to-do lists, this space was, though still distinctly homely, perhaps neater and more ordered. Jaq spotted the same drinks trolley that sat in their room, but rather than holding bottles of zero-gee and abandoned electronics, it was adorned with crystal and glass that appeared handmade, and there were stacks of books about the room that would not have looked out of place in Max’s cabin.

“Here.”

When they turned, Captain Fiori de DeSoto was offering them a cup of fine china painted with intricate patterns, the sweet smell of trip-teaze drifting from it. Jaq accepted it with a grateful smile. They’d seen enough to just about convince them there was no risk here, or, at least, not if they extended the Captain the same courtesy she had shown them.

“Now then,” the Captain said, taking a seat on the edge of her bunk. “Shall we talk?”

* * *

“So, you’re telling me I’m in one of an infinite number of alternate universes?”

Aethel nodded. “That’s right.” She’d been patient in explaining the concept of the multiverse, fielding Jaq’s questions without hesitation or any hint of frustration as they struggled to wrap their head around what was happening. Admittedly, they’d found accepting the idea they had slipped into another dimension a little easier than that Aethel was married to the vicar. . .

“And in this Universe, I – I mean the other me – is still in stasis aboard the Hope?”

“Most likely,” she replied. “Or perhaps you never boarded the Hope. We could not say without checking the personnel records. Anything is possible.”

Jaq fiddled with the empty tea cup before setting it down cautiously atop the polished surface of the desk beside the captain’s terminal.

“Of course, it would be best if you did not have contact with the other you,” Aethel continued with the same casual authority with which she had bestowed all her knowledge throughout their conversation. “Who knows what might happen should that occur. This reality could splinter at the anomaly of two Jaqs occupying the same space. Or you might become trapped here.”

Jaq had no reason to doubt her knowledge on the subject. They grimaced at the thought. It was probably best not to break time and space as they knew it if it could be avoided.

“Phin’s not going to believe this,” they muttered. They weren’t sure they’d be able to remember half of what Aethel had explained. They’d have to ask her to write it down for them so they could provide him with a full report.

“Phin?” Aethel seemed to turn the word over in her mouth for a moment, weighing it up. “You are referring to Dr Phineas Welles, I presume?”

Jaq gave a wary nod and realised they were running a thumb over the band of black ink etched into the skin of their finger. Out of habit, the ring itself sat safe in their pocket on its chain, in case of the need for sudden violence. It had been an unnecessary act in this incidence.

They noted Aethel’s gaze following the movement of their thumb. “Ahh, I see,” she intoned, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Jaq slipped their hand in their pocket.

“And you would like to return to Dr Welles?”

“As soon as possible.” And without inducing some sort of tear in the fabric of the universe, preferably.

Aethel cast them a warm look full of understanding. “Well then, let’s see what I can do to assist with that.”

Thank you to @autonomous-digital-astrogator for organising this exchange.

@jackalgirl I hope I got some way towards capturing the wonderful complexity of Aethel’s character. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know her and can’t wait to read more of her story.

#captain aethel #captain jaq #tow captain exchange #the captain of the unreliable

12 notes · View notes

hanawrites404 · 3 years

Text

Wynne’s Birthday Diary - Lunie Laurenze

"I really hope they make it here on time. But the chances seem to be so thin of them even arriving considering our relationship is...... convoluted" I sighed, placing the cookies inside. I was really regretting why did I even plan this for her. And why am I stressing out so much because of it. All of this was fucking frustrating and tiring to me.

"Chillax, Winnie. Lunie will definitely come. Her sister promised me that" The brown haired man propped his legs on the table in front of him and relaxingly leaned behind the couch.

I sighed, turning to the laid-back person with crossed arms. "Lunie can force her mind onto Ink very easily. Sad thing is that even after you literally bribed Ink with shiny sparkling feathers to bring her sister here, who knows if she would succeed" I coolly replied.

"You.....You saw that?!!" Nathan (@utopia-t) stiffened, and there was a pink tint on his umber cheeks.

"Yes I did. Very disgusting of you to greed a child like that" I teased him, a smirk on my lips. Nathan turned even more pink by my mockery, but then he scrunched his nose and growled and slammed his fist on my poor couch.

"Hey! First of all, I am older than you. I know what is right and what is wrong more than you. And two, bribing is not wrong. It's just like business. You just get extra good stuff out of them just like that. And Ink surely deserves some spoiling" he defended himself.

I chuckled and went over him to sit beside him, patting his shoulder. "Relax, Dear. Of course there is nothing wrong in spoiling kids over good jobs done. Just don't make it so frequent. You would then owe them a lot that you won't be able to even repay".

"Ugh jeez Wynne. Of course I know my limits. I practically raised two kids by myself, come on!!" He threw his hands while I rolled my eyes.

"Right right. And also let one of them almost choke in the quicksand" I smirked at him even more, and just like I expected, Nathan turned even more pink and speechless. I then started laughing heartily and wipe the tears of joy from the corner of my eyes.

"Stop, Damnit. Stop teasing me" he snarled. He has his fist balled up again and I could see his veins pulsating in his arm. Though it was far from scaring me, I obliged to his request.

"There there, calm your nerves down. We don't want you smashing my lovely table on someone's birthday, you know" With a wide threatening smile I rubbed his shoulders.

"Tch whatever, Woman" he punched my shoulder lightly, earning a laugh from me. Salette was really lucky to have a brother whom you can tease 24/7 but won't lift a finger on you. The only difference is that I on the other side was in a bit danger, but that's alright. It's not that I am scared of his mindless threats. Also I heard that he likes to charm women?? Hmmm....how am I not surprised haha!!

"Ugh you should be lucky that you are cute. Otherwise I would not have hesitated to destroy your fancy expensive house" Nathan huffed. I raised my eyebrow, glancing at him as he rested his head on the couch and behind his arms.

"Pardon me. Cute???" I asked from minor bewilderment.

"Ummm yeah. That's what I said" he replied.

I stayed silent, still not opening my mouth. Nathan clearly noticed it as he clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"Oh come on. You heard me nicely. You have clear ears" he elaborated. But still that didn't solve my problem.

Nathan then being the stubborn impatient kind grabbed my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. My hands landed on his chest with a thud and my eyes jerked up, a gasp escaped my lips.

"So you don't believe me huh, Blueberry?" His crimson eyes looked directly into mine. Oh no.........

"E-Excuse me?? But what do I have to believe??" The confusion was still on my face. But then it all got sorted when he lifted my chin up, our noses touching and our lips just inches away.

"Want me to tell you?" His whisper, huskily reached my ears. This just made me even more nervous than before.

I gulped, adjusting my position, but he was holding onto me by my waist now. He had a stern grip. It seemed impossible to withdraw.

Nathan closed up to me, our lips were almost going to meet. I wasn't ready for it, but didn't hesitate to close my eyes as well and brace for the kiss. The tension was hot, it was hitting my skin and arousing goosebumps on me. Nathan looked like it wasn't affecting him, because of how he still had his hold on me and his hands weren't shaking like mine.

I was not scared, I was rather bubbling from anticipation of what would Nathan do, but my expectations were destroyed when we were interrupted by the tingling classic London chime.

Of the doorbell.

"Oh fucking goddamnit!!" Nathan cursed, letting go of me and slumping back on the couch. While I just blinked twice, trying to get my system back, and then got up to walk to the door.

"Excuse me Dear" I simply sighed. Poor Nathan. I actually felt bad for him. I promise to compensate his disappointment later.

But nonetheless, I opened the door, and being half-surprised to look at the visitor, I greeted both of them.

"Well Good Evening Ink, Lunie" I said. Lunie (@boiling-potato), as usual, dismissed my salutation and looked away with a 'hmph', but her sister on the other hand, happily returned the hello.

"Good Evening Wynne! It's really good to see you. And you are looking really nice today ^w^" said said. This lit up a smile, as I let both of them com inside my house.

"Why thank you Dear. It's lovely to hear from you too" I grinned back, closing the door. Hmmm....it was kind of warm outside. Maybe due to spring change.

"So....why are we here again??" Lunie crossed her arms and looked around. She sounded as if she was forced to arrive here. Nothing out of unusual at all, actually.

"We are here to celebrate your birthday, Lunie! Wynne and Nathan organised it for you ÒwÓ" Ink replied. Lunie was unamused, as she just sat on one of the couches and kept her head on her hand, disinterested.

"Whatever" she said. I didn't even care actually, because I had already given up and tired. Jeez, edgy kids these days.

But suddenly Nathan appeared behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He had a bright smile on his face.

"Hey come on now. It's your birthday! Birthdays are nice! You get to party, have fun with friends, get drunk and might even find a nice boy to-"

Before he could even say anything further, I slapped his mouth shut. Seriously this man bitch doesn't even know how to talk to children sometimes. Ugh Stupid Human.

"And do what?? What do we do with a nice boy OwO?" The ravenette asked. Oh shit, here we go again. Come on Wynne, think of something.

"W-We just greet him a good night, that's all haha!" I smiled at her, but on the inside was boiling from pique.

"Oh! Ok! ^w^" Ink thankfully didn't question it further and settled down. I then let Nathan go, glaring at him for a second, before I went to the kitchen to get the cake. I knew Lunie didn't want to stay here much because of how much we both pissed each other, so I wanted this to get over with quick.

Meanwhile I kept hearing Nathan talking with both Lunie and Ink. He kept entertaining them with chats and jokes, and was doing surprisingly well. That was good. Looks like it was a nice idea to bring him over. Otherwise it would have been pretty awkward if I was by myself.

"What's a cat's favourite colour??"

"What? -_-"

"Ooooooh what OwO??"

"Purr-ple!!"

"ರ_ರ"

"HAHAHAHAHAHHAA nice one, Nathan (≧▽≦)"

Hah......dorks...................

Soon the cake was brought on the table, and the birthday girl was settled right in front of the spongy dessert. The cake had the flavour of chocolate cookies and sugary cream, and it was adorned with dark chocolate musical notes. The cake was white and dark brown, and it had seventeen blue candles on it.

"........The cake looks good" For the first time I heard Lunie saying one positive thing for the whole day. It brightened my mood quite a lot, and so with Nathan. Since we both were the ones who made the cake, and our star for tonight was satisfied. And nothing else could have fulfilled us more.

"We are glad you liked it" I replied. "Thanks Lunie! I hope you would love how it tastes too!!" Nathan beamed. Ink was amazed by the cake, her eyes were literally sparkling. It was adorable to watch. Lunie just nodded to us, as she closed her eyes next, ready to make her wish.

"Let's get this over with" and then she blew the candles.

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday Dear Lunie~

Happy birthday to you 💙💙💙💙💙~

The cake was cut, and was shared. We all enjoyed the dessert. It was pleasantly sweet, not too sugary and not too bland. It was perfect with the soft cream and cookie crunch.

Ink was the happiest one among us all. No surprise again. She loved the cake and the other food me and Nathan had prepared. And she had a lot of fun during games and the present time.

And speaking about presents, Nathan gifted Lunie a recipe book of making different types of desserts. So that she could be self-reliant and learn how to bake what she loves. I actually knew the book, because my father used to have it. Obviously he never followed it, and even if he did, something always went wrong. Lunie seemed pleased though, and that's all that mattered.

At last it was my turn to gift her. And for my part I had given her a navy blue oversized shirt with white musical notes. Come on. Fashion is how I roll, and considering Lunie loved baggy clothing, I had to create one for her with every love I can put into it. And to be candid, I had much delectation with weaving every fibre of it, and truly hoped that she would love to wear it once.

Lunie might be unnecessarily audacious, however she was still relatable to me because she somewhat felt like myself. Those broody eyes, that lethargic expression, the introverted testy approach, reminded me of me. All I had to say was, Lunie is like my sister too. No matter how much we hated each other's guts.

But the most surprising thing for today was how Lunie actually enjoyed the occasion. She said that it wasn't too loud or crowded, and it was rather diverting and a nice distraction from annoyance. This was of course a compliment, even though Nathan didn't look really satisfied by it haha!

But I had fun. And so did the others. The rest of the night went well, with all of us chilling and talking about the early days and future nights. At the very present. All of it together.

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana mc #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #ink #lunie #lunie laurenze #🥔#nathan dahab #what I wrote

12 notes · View notes

cautious-creation · 3 years

Text

Meeting Pietro

Fandom & Characters: Marvel (MCU); Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor Johnson), Captain America/Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), 3rd person female y/n. Mentioned: Iron Man/Tony Stark (RDJ)

Pairing(s): Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor Johnson) x 3rd person female y/n

Word/page count: about 100 words

CW/TW: brief mention of Cap and his PTSD, Steve and a punching bag

Summary: Pietro, the handsome cheeky flirt, meets y/n.

Author’s note: I wrote this a few years ago as part of escapism from high school woes. I didn’t do much editing before posting, just grammar and spelling and added an actual conclusion which I hadn’t done when I first wrote it.

"I have those files you...oh!." She looked left and right trying to spot the cause for the sudden burst of wind. The air conditioning had been faulty but not to the extent where it randomly shuts on and off creating split seconds of gale force gusts.

She shrugged it off and continued further into the gym where the Captain was practically destroying a red punching bag. 'Red in front of that angry bull's beefy biceps' she thought to herself, then shook her head at having thought it.

"I've...", punch, "got...", punch, "the...", punch "files..." She spoke between her superior's fists hitting that poor, innocent punching bag.

He paused, holding the bag still and panting. She'd spent enough time with him to know that he'd been having one of his flashbacks, PTSD is not a particularly easy thing to live with, never mind also being expected to do superhero work. This was his way of managing it.

He closed his eyes forcefully, probably trying to escape from his traumatic memories, "What was that?" He started unwrapping the protective strapping from his hands approaching his ‘Tony appointed’ assistant.

"You asked for some documents on basic DNA altering experimentation, like the stuff Hydra’s done. I managed to find some in the 'bad guys' science stuff' folder." She handed him the freshly printed and stapled wad of papers. Steve rolled his eyes at Tony's folder naming system.They started walking towards the exit of the gym.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you want them for?" Another gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet after she'd said that.

"What the hell is that?" She grumbled. Steve didn't seem at all fazed.

"For him." He pointed absentmindedly behind him, where something she hadn't noticed before was speeding around the gym almost too fast to see the trails of blue and silver behind it. She became mesmerised by the speeding object, so much so that she didn't notice that it was hurtling straight towards her at an alarming rate.

And before she knew it she was in the strong arms of the beautiful silver haired stranger, tilting backwards with her hands on his toned biceps. "Umm...hi?" She said in a timid voice. He smiled. "Hi." He set her straight.

Steve glanced at the two, both a little irked and endeared by Pietro’s choice of introduction to the assistant.

"That's Pietro Maximoff. One of HYDRA's successful DNA altering experimentation subjects. Code name: Quicksilver." Steve elaborated while skimming through the information in front of him.

"Makes sense."

Steve interpreted her statement in reference to the answer to the question she'd asked him a moment before, Pietro took it in reference to his code name.

He set her back on her feet, smirking. She smoothed out her clothes, cleared her throat, held out her hand for him to shake while hoping to the heavens above that her cheeks weren't as red as her lipstick like they'd usually be after any sort of compliment. He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, never breaking eye contact as he did so.

'If I wasn't blushing before I'm definitely am now.' She thought.

"Y/n." She practically squeaked her name, Steve gave them a questioning glance as she did so.

"Pietro." He replied chuckling.

A few silent moments passed, the newly acquainted Avengers team associates simply gazing at one another; both mentally questioning the other's relationship status and wondering why or how they hadn't met already.

Steve ended the emotional staring contest when he gently set his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, awaiting instructions. His gaze slowly lifted off the document in his hand once he'd finished reading the second page.

"I'll carry on reading this when I have a chance. Can you leave this on my desk next to the team's files? Oh, and please remind Stark that we've got an armorless training session booked and if he is so much as a minute late I will be making use of fitness training before we start." Steve handed her the documents an appreciative smile on his face. She smiled back. As she set off for the stairs up to the main level of the training room, Pietro, once again, caught her attention as he fell in step with her.

"Aren't you still busy down here?" She asked. He shrugged.

"The Captain is to busy daydreaming about the good old days, he won’t notice. Besides, I'm sure he won't mind me doing the gentlemanly thing and walking with the beautiful lady into an area of danger." She particularly took note of the way he looked at her as he said 'beautiful'; and the unnecessarily attractive lilt of his accent.

"Area of danger? I'll assume you're referring to a certain Mr Stark's twenty meter vicinity. Or just his lab, even when he's not in it." She responded. He smiled further at this.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Yes Miss." The AI replied.

"Tell Mr Stark that his superior officer is already in a bad mood and threatening to make him do fitness if he's late for hand to hand combat training...again." She instructed. There were a few seconds of silence before the tower's speakers activated again.

"He asks when his session is." Y/n chuckled.

"Let him know that if neither him nor his computer system and assistant know when he's supposed to be down there then it's almost certain he's either late or missed it completely." She smiled rolling her eyes at a certain billionaire genius' poor time management.

"So you work for Stark?" Pietro asked, confused as to why the tech genius would need a human assistant when he had his electronic babysitter.

"Sort of. Tony Stark hired me to help the Captain with admin and such. We started to work, communicate and get along quite well so I've been doing other odd jobs for him as well. I'm sort of a...second assistant to the Avengers; I could never be first though, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is too organised and efficient and I'm, well, human." she explained.

"Glad I can be of service Miss y/l/n." The automated voice commented.

"And it's an honour to work with you F.R.I.D.A.Y." she replied.

Pietro leaned towards her as they walked, now approaching Rogers’ office, “Don’t tell the computer,” he whispers a few inches from her ear with clear humour in his tone, “but I think I would prefer to work with you.”

She hadn’t expected the giggle that came out of her mouth, it was in response to feeling his breath against her cheek as he showed his interest in her. She wasn’t particularly adept at flirting, or taking compliments, but it seemed he was willing to flirt enough for both of them.

Neither could deny that they looked forward to spending time with the intriguing person they’d just met.

#fanfiction #fanfic #Marvel #Avengers #MCU #Pietro Maximoff #Steve Rogers

6 notes · View notes

disaster-bay-leaf · 3 years

Note

Ok so these were the cutest~ (ㆁωㆁ)

4, 6, 7, 9, 12, 19, 22, 23, 28, 33, 34, 46, 47, 52, 59, 60, 63, 66, 83, 87, 88, 93, 99

I kno I listed like....all of them lmao but feel free to answer whichever you want and ofc you can ask me in return Baybe ( ◜‿◝ )♡

uHUHUHUHU much content for me to answer, im happy bebe 💜💜💜✨

4 - how do you take your coffee/tea?

hm coffee either Very Black No Sugar (for the sleep deprived me) or iced latte three sugars and theres no in between

and as for tea its All Black Teas That Exist, cinnamon-flavoured especially (but basically all teas that come to mind when u think “autumn”), and rooibos!!! okay basically the only oke i dont like is any type of green tea (which is sad because they look cool but my tastebuds said ✨no✨)

6 - do you keep plants?

honestly id l o v e too because i love plants but,,, im kinda horrible at taking care of them though still way better than the majority of my family (research helps) so the only plant i own is kinda a small-palm-tree-looking thing in a bigass glass jar that i saved from my mother’s plant-destructing hands and its mostly doing well (the ends of its leaves are starting to be yellow tho and im worried:((( )

7 - do you name your plants?

yes!!! though the current one was named by my sister and its called “pickett” after fantastic beasts shsjjsj

9 - do you like singing/humming to yourself?

oh god oh dude you have n o idea

i have absolutely n o singing voice but its something i do constantly to give my brain the right amount of stimuli so basically i listen to music 24/7 and hum to myself 99% of that time

12 - whats your favourite planet?

oh i actually didnt think about this for so long but either pluto (hes a planet screw nasa) or saturn (RINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or venus (girls,,,and libra,,,)

19 - do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw in it?

okay im gonna be completely honest with yall and say that my every single try at keeping a journal failed spectacularly and i lost motivation after like a few months so my only journals rn are my fancy fake-leather-bound calendar to note tests and assessments into, a kinda roughed up notebook that i uses for noting down poems or scribbling or passing notes in class, and a kinda fancy bullet journal notebook that i used as a book of shadows for a while but since my fountain pen died i didnt touch it

22 - are you a morning person?

n o

i am so not a morning person but i wish i could be because honestly dawns are beautiful

but as it is rn im either sleep deprived all the time and loathe every second of being in an awake state or (if i have a few days of schoolbreak) my biological clock moves forward a few hours and i sleep 2am-10am

23 - whats your favourite thing to do on lazy days with zero obligations?

except for the fact that i dont remember the last time it happened, i would probably spend it drawing outside, watching anime with my sister and riding a bike around the forest

28 - sunrise or sunset?

i love sunrises because its so peaceful and everyone is asleep but also i subconsciously immediately correlate them with waiting for a train to take me to school (because thats basically the only time i see them) so its a bittersweet love especially with my fucked up biological clock

but sunsets are really really pretty too and i see them more often so i cant choose

33 - whats your fave pastry?

and isnt that a millior-dollar question dhsjjsjsj

either cinnamon rolls (i absolutely adore them) or that one specific type of cupcake-shaped-thing made out of shortcrust/bread/whatever its called and filled with vanilla pudding

34 - tell us about a stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

awwww this is cute

okay so basically my two favourite stuffed animals (i still have them, they sit in my wardrobe) were two teddy bears (like maybe 20cm high each of them) and one was pure brown and the other was silver-brown and they had stereotypical polish male names “Waldek” (read. Valdek) and Stefan (i think tho im not sure if i remember correctly, my memory is a feeble thing sometimes

46 - tell us the worst pun you can think of

what dog would never bite you? a hot dog *badumtss*

47 - what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

huh a year ago id say pineapple pizza but i guess i dont hate pineapples that much anymore (tho putting them on pizza is still an abomination) but i think that if id ever want to get rid of anything it would be parsley, i hate that freakin herb (does it count as food tho)

52 - what are your favourite memes of the year so far?

the ever given for sure shsjshjsjsjsjjsj

but bullying tramp stamps is gold and pure tumblr energy too

as for fandom memes: im in love with all keeping-up-with-the-todorokis variations and the fact that the entire bsd fandom looked at fukuchi and said “biTCH” and thats one of the only things we’re unanimous about

59 - whats your favourite myth?

i always liked the kora/persephone myth (though demeter is an overbearing parent to the nth power), loki and thor crossdressing at a party to get mjolnir back, atalanta because shes a queen and id politely ask her to kick my ass, and cassandra because she deserved better, and theres a l o t more because alas i was a mythology nerd but this post is long enough for me not to make this section 20 times longer sjjsjsjsjsjks

but there are a lot of slavic myths that are very cool too, though we dont know that much about them as about the greeks for example

60 - do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

o o o o h yeah i do like poetry because to create such a beautifully sounding thing with only words someone has to be a genius

some of my favs are: some works of nakahara chuuya (thank u bsd for introducing me to this man’s beautiful imagery in his works i swear to god the descriptions do it for me) (also his poem about having hangovers is a mood like i feel you buddy), the raven by ea poe (i know everyone likes it but hOLY DAMN THE INTER/INTRAVERSE RHYMES ARE LIKE,,, BREATHTAKING) (and aso im a slut for gothic horror), and many more but also That One Poem From Welcome To Nightvale about reaching the island in the west,,, only perfect vibes from it

63 - are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organised or kinda leave them be?

okay heres the thing. for anyone else both my playlist library and my bookshelf would be considered pure chaos of a mad man b u t they actually have a highly focused system which means that i sort them based on their vibes, lovability and (in case of books) their age and whether or not theyre a part of a series so i would say my bookshelf is rather organised (when a quarter of it isnt occupying my desk that is) and my music is more organised than not but sometimes it gets out of control and i have to sort it entirely again

66 - what would your ideal flower crown look like?

either entirely constructed of simple white daisies, entirely constructed of only white roses, or something that probably would win a “how many different coloured flowers can one fit in a flower crown” competition

or something purple (maybe not belladonna)

83 - whats some of your favourite album art?

god i dont know if it counts but hozier’s wasteland baby is probably one of my absolute favourites and no one shall beat that

“thrifted youth” (dalynn) and “standard deviation” (danny schmidt) have very aesthetic covers too

also the iconic p!atd too weird to live, too rare to die! album cover,,, its just iconic what can i say

and last but not least matt meason’s pink-and-black album covers (though bank on the funeral is really pretty too but like,,, “who killed matt meason” d o e s it for me and so does the 2017 tribulation single)

87 - what are some movies that you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

this is such a hard question because im not a really cinematography-oriented gal but i suppose that (at the risk of not going deep enough into the cinema world):

- the princess bride

- inception

- night at the museum

- SPIRITED AWAY

- forrest gump

- truman show

- E.T. (i cried okay)

- the lord of the rings (because damn me if this isnt one impressive adaptation)

- parasite

and one more personal recommendation: “ready or not” with samara weaving because goddamn i dont usually watch this genre but holy s h i t is it good

93 - whats the hairstyle you wear the most?

honestly just plain hair down (because having curly hair is a menace), split in the middle when i have longer hair and split on one side when its short

also low ponytails or half-up-half-down when im exercising, or double french braids when my hair doesnt cooperate enough to look presentable in any other form

99 - list some songs that resonate with your soul whenever you hear them

this is difficult because my music taste is a goddamn rollercoaster on a good day, but heres some:

- me and the sky from “come from away” musical (this is sort of a test song for my mental stability, if i cry i aint stable)

- dancing after death by matt meason (okay most songs by matt meason except for like,,, hallucinogenics maybe)

- tears and rain by james blunt

- i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

- almost home by mxmtoon

- anything by hozier really but shrike especially

- payphone, the cover by alex g (i cried to this song so many times)

- burning pile by mother mother (can i roast all my problems please)

- long way from home and cleopatra by the lumineers

- autoclave by the mountain goats

oooh that was c o o o o o o o l as fuck thank you sm so much bebe (and sorry for the long post @everyone else)

#smadhuman being pure af #bay answers #long post #very long post #ask #asks

4 notes · View notes

theflashdriver · 4 years

Text

Waves of Fate (A Silvaze Modern/Soulmate AU)

Beaches were supposed to be happy places, books always described them that way at least. People came to the beach to have fun, to play games and relax. It was supposed place of joy, where smiles supposedly reigned supreme and you could count on the sun parting the clouds to grant a blue sky.

A grey sky hung over the pale white sands of the secluded, manmade, beach the belonged to the Sol estate. A family made wealthy through inheritance and investment; the sole monarchs of the estate had built themselves a high castle, separate from the common rabble, to settle and grow. Unfortunately for them however, perhaps due to their greed, the pair’s first and only child had arrived with a certain abnormality. That grey sky also hung over that very child, the twelve-year-old Blaze the cat, as she stared down at her workbook.

It was peculiar for her to take lessons by the beachside but, with some effort from her tutor to convince the feline’s parents, a bizarre and impromptu lesson had been quickly organised. Sat atop a thick picnic blanket, wearing a smile so caring that the young girl could practically feel it, was the in-house tutor for the estate, Vanilla. Contrary to the scowl Blaze wore as she carefully considered what to write next, the youngster didn’t dislike the rabbit. She had in fact, even at this young age, come to truly appreciate the role the tutor filled. The feline’s parents were always either distracted or busy, she couldn’t particularly tell or care which, but Vanilla, a mother herself, always found time to listen and care. Even in situations like this… even when the young girl claimed that she wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“How’s it going Blaze? Are you stuck?” Stubborn as ever, trying not to listen, the kitten bit her tongue, “You don’t need to write too much, just think of this as practice writing letters.”

Attempting to make a show of it, the feline (dressed in dungarees rather than her school uniform) silently continued her cursive work until she harshly dotted the end of a sentence, “I’m fine Vanilla,” As she looked up and caught the rabbit’s eyes, Blaze realised that, though she had technically answered the question, something further had been revealed. Of the people she knew, Vanilla was the only one who could peer into her heart and see the truth. The child’s eyes returned to the page, “I’m writing fine I just… you know…”

“I know you don’t believe in this and you think it’s foolish but that’s fine. A hint of whimsy is just what you need right now. Just think of it as a break from boring maths questions and everything else,” It was fortunate that the words everything else were cut off by a certain rummaging sound and a bread triangle entering the corner of her vision, “Gardon made these while I was talking with your parents, would you like to partake?”

Unable to resist her gentle charm any longer, regardless of how arduous today had been, Blaze set her book aside and claimed the wrapped meal with a muted, “Thank you.”

“It’s not the best day for a picnic, but it’s far from the worst,” Vanilla mused, claiming a sandwich of her own, “Not too windy and the forecast doesn’t call for rain, it’ll be smooth sailing for your letter.”

“Assuming it doesn’t just wash back onto the beach,” She glumly shrugged, undoing the wrapping and taking her first bite. Salmon, probably fresh from this morning. Once she’d swallowed, Blaze couldn’t help but look up to her tutor again, “Is it really cold? Are you okay?”

“Oh, no, dear. It’s not that cold, just a little chilly. I’ll be fine, honestly,” Blaze met her smile with an incredulous stare. The rabbit’s face somehow grew even softer, “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind just a little warming up,” Without even hesitating, the tutor reached across again; this time an empty hand was extended.

Blaze took the comparatively large hand in her own and, trying her hardest to be gentle, allowed a few small flames to build on the back of her knuckles. The heat immediately began to radiate, even though the flames were stagnant in terms of both position and size. Absentmindedly, ears drooping without their owner’s consent, she spoke, “It’s not hard to control them when I’m comfortable. It’s easier when it’s just you and me.”

“I know dear but, one day, it’ll be easy all the time. I’m certain of it,” Vanilla promised, drawing back her hand and pressing it to her cheeks, “That was lovely of you, thank you.”

A half mile behind them, in the estate’s main building, cindered remains were likely still being swept up. An attempt to set up a playdate with the children of another wealthy family hadn’t gone over well, but the issue wasn’t as mundane as that. To say Blaze didn’t get along with the other children was certainly an understatement, the feline’s very first encounter with those infants had ended in tears and a ball of fire. Today, when her parents refused to see reason, a similar explosive display had ignited the living room couch before spreading to the wallpaper. Of course, plans were in place for this sort of occurrence, the house’s sprinkler system had gone off, but it hadn’t cooled her parent’s scorn. She’d scarcely been able to dry herself and change before Vanilla had plucked her from the house.

“You’re welcome,” Was all she could manage to mumble.

“And whoever gets this letter will surely love you for your gift,” A seriousness lingered in the rabbit’s tone, despite the multiple layers of foolishness behind her claim, “Not despite it.”

Blaze scoffed before quickly finishing her sandwich, not yet returning to her work, “Who even thought this superstition up? I know I’ve read about it before but never like this…”

“This one in particular was thought up by the wives and children of widow sailors, as tragic as that is,” The bunny half cringed, “As I’ve told you, when a destined pair send messages out to sea, they’ll receive a sign of their connection. The ocean will take you letter and, just and only this once, deliver it to your soulmate as long as it meets the right conditions.”

“It has to be fully written by one person, it can’t include that person’s name, physical description, hints to find that person or to try and organise a meeting. It also has to be the first message a person sends to sea and no one else is allowed to read it until it reaches the intended individual,” Blaze recalled aloud, “Making it seem all the more pointless. All you can really tell them is what you’re like and what’s happening to you and, regardless, it’s not going to reach anyone. How are you even going to mark this if you’re not allowed to read it?”

“Come on Blaze, when I was your age, I wanted so badly for a handsome prince to sweep me off my feet. I must have rewritten my letter a hundred times,” Vanilla chastised, plainly ignoring the kitten’s question, “You can tell them what you think loving them will be like, your hopes and dreams. No one else will ever get to read it, only you and them,” Admittedly, that was true. Whatever she wrote down here would likely be lost to the sea, “And even if it doesn’t work, no one who finds it would ever know it came from you. It’s a thought exercise as much as it is a writing one, a way to air your frustrations and ambitions.”

The kitten claimed her journal again, trying her hardest to ignore the cloudy sky above. For whatever reason, her pen felt heavier than it had just a moment prior. She let her thoughts flow onto the page, their pace kept by a modest barrier of consideration, and tried her hardest not to overdo it. In truth, she’d never really considered what she wanted from a partner or what a partner might want from her. Did she even want a partner? Part of her didn’t, and she was certain that would come across in her writing, but she couldn’t deny that she saw the appeal. The idea of someone loving her for her flames was more than a little farfetched but someone who could see past them and still love her? Someone who actively, genuinely, wasn’t afraid of her? How could she say no to that?

Finally, Blaze clicked her pen closed. Vanilla perked up, “Is it done?”

“I think so…” The young feline hummed before drawing her eyes to the page and giving it a final read.

To whomever comes to possess this note,

I hope we can meet and that, when we do, that the reason behind our link becomes clear rather than being the mere whim of coincidence. I have been instructed that, in this letter, I am to tell you about myself. While I was born into fortuitous circumstances, I have not lived the most fortunate of lives: though I am privileged in some ways, I am far more socially handicapped than the majority of my peers. I handle criticism poorly as I always try to give my all, regardless of the actual importance of any given assignment.

My peers don’t think too highly of me, many of them fear me, but the few truly close to me claim that I am mature for my age and intelligent. I’ve recently started to play the violin and have practiced ballet for as long as I can remember. As for other interests, though they’ll undoubtedly change by the time we meet, classical literature and music has always appealed to me. If we are destined to be together then I doubt you are a pilot, so this is probably unimportant, but I do have a fear of heights. I’m sorry if you wanted more details but I’m quite confused as to what is safe to include, in accordance with this dubious tradition.

I don’t think I’m the easiest person to love, both for reasons that should become clear to you and my inherent defensiveness. Though my investment in this idea of soulmates may be limited, the thought that there is someone out there who will love me for who I am is, undeniably, appealing. I may not be the best at displaying how I feel but, if we are to care for each, I will try my best to show you that I care. To be honest, I don’t know what to expect or to ask of you beyond that you keep an open mind if we do meet. Perhaps, just as this rumour being true would, you will surprise me.

Please stay safe and write soon, from your soulmate.

“It’s a little… melancholy,” Blaze admitted, trying not to wince, “But I don’t want to rewrite it. It’s good enough.”

It was all written in her neatest handwriting, entirely cursive and eloquent. There wasn’t a single spelling error, not one that she could identify at least, and it looked professional enough? She’d written it in the manner she’d learned to write all of her letters and, perhaps, that was a little too formal for the occasion. Then again, it wasn’t as though it would actually reach anyone.

And, of course, she hadn’t mentioned her flames; not in explicit terms at least.

“Is it how you truly feel?” Vanilla questioned, “Is it how you want to introduce yourself to them.”

Blaze took another moment, considering it for just a moment more, before tearing the paper from her jotter and rolling it into a tight scroll, “Yes.”

The tutor turned to rummage through her bag again, this time drawing forth three things: a ribbon to bind the note, a small (cleaned and untinted) glass bottle and a whittled down cork from an old wine bottle. Blaze took the ribbon first, gently securing her note, and trying not to crumple it, before gingerly sliding it into the bottle’s narrow mouth. She let Vanilla secure the cork in place, not much trusting that it’d hold if she did it. Then though, curiously, the rabbit produced another object from her bag. A small violet tealight, brand new and untouched.

“I think it might be nice to seal the bottle in your own, unique, way,” The rabbit explained, tilting the cantle upside down and holding it above the now sealed bottle, “With a little bit of fire, we can make a wax lid.”

The tealight exchanged hands, Vanilla held the bottle in place. Just as her prior heating, the tutor was likely the only one who would trust her to do this. Well, perhaps Gardon would too on a good day. Blaze snuck her forefinger around the tealight’s metal casing and birthed a burgeoning flame directly into the wax. The reaction was almost immediate, purple, lavender scented, wax began to drip down in gooey clumps and gather atop the cork. It took a while, and some shifting, to completely cover both the entryway. Most of the candle was diminished by the time it was done, the bubbling mass gradually cooling on the glass.

Vanilla drew it back, gently blowing on it, “Good job, Blaze. That’s perfect.”

In the silence that hung as the wax cooled, Blaze couldn’t help but dwell on her future a little. She knew she was young, far too young to be seriously considering these things, most children her age would still be focused on becoming a pop singer or filling some other extravagant niche. Her parents wanted her to focus on law, become a judge or an attorney, but, despite how important those callings were, they didn’t appeal to her. The only thing she knew that she wanted was to be away from here, to find somewhere that she could settle herself and actually be free to think, but that was so long away. She was bound to this place, bound to her parents, for the-

A gentle hand pushed up the feline’s chin and brought her to look the elder rabbit in the eye, “You might not meet whoever gets this letter for some time, but I promise you, Blaze, you will find them. You won’t be here forever; you feel so trapped forever. With their help or otherwise, I know you’ll do great things.”

The tutor rose, passing the bottle to its first owner. The kitten stumbled to her feet, taking it but quickly reaching out and holding her teacher’s hand. Barren white sand crunched underfoot, the clouds refused to part even now. It wasn’t long until she was at the cusp of the water, the lapping waves mere centimetres from the toe of their shoes. The older of the two drew up the hem of her skirt, Blaze awkwardly fumbled with her dungaree’s legs before retaking the rabbit’s hand. Vanilla took the first step into the foamy waters, but Blaze was quick to follow after. They waded until the sea reached the young feline’s knee, a glance from Vanilla informed her that was far enough.

Gently, Blaze set the bottle in the water. They stood for a moment, just to see that it would leave their sight. The tide was receding, they’d see the bottle bob above the waves every so often as it was gradually being carried towards the horizon. It was off to either meet with a watery grave or find some person somewhere else in the world.

“Well, now we just have to wait and see,” The rabbit smiled, turning and gently retaking her hand, “I’m sure it’ll reach someone wonderful. I can’t wait to see you two together. Its been so long since I’ve seen young love, I’m sure your Prince Charming will be wonderful.”

“M-Miss Vanilla,” The little girl couldn’t help but whine, “I don’t want a Prince.”

“Oh? What is it you want then?” She asked, nearing the water’s end.

“I don’t know…” Blaze murmured, giving it just half a moment’s thought, “I just want a friend. I just want someone else who will be nice to me.”

“Can’t they be both?” Vanilla laughed, taking the first step onto dry land.

The young girl hadn’t considered that, but she wasn’t sure that she liked it. She was about to speak up in defiance when she felt something peculiar. A wave had passed behind her, lapping just above her heels, but it had hit differently somehow. It’d almost felt too hard.

Turning to look over her shoulder, Blaze frowned as her eyes scanned the water. Among the waves, hitched in the sand, was a bottle. Had her note followed them back? Breaking off from Vanilla, the young girl crouched to get a closer look. Something about this bottle looked different. It wasn’t sealed with wax, it had a screw on lid. What’s more, this bottle was tinted green. Dumbfounded, without so much as thinking, she reached down and plucked the bottle from the water.

“Miss Vanilla?”

-----------

Butterflies flapped in her stomach as though they were giant eagles pursuing some sort of endlessly evasive prey. Blaze the cat, age twenty-two, had just spent the last twelve hours traveling with three overstuffed suitcases and a violin case. She’d departed a train forty minutes ago and had been walking ever since but, prior to that, she’d endured two different taxi rides and a full four hours failing to ignore a window seat view on a flight. To say that she was exhausted would be an understatement, she’d travelled further from her home before but never on her own and never like this, but to say she was unhappy would be entirely false. Blaze the cat was free, free from the Sol estate and free from all that came with it. She had finally claimed control over her life.

She’d never thought that the violin would be her escape; music simply been her hobby, but it had borne an unimaginable fruit. She’d managed to land herself third chair in an orchestra with a high probability of moving further up the ranks. The concertmaster was apparently reaching her elder years, looking for a protégé and to breathe new life into the group. A well-placed audition tape and a handful of politely worded emails had secured her the position. Sure, the job as it was now wasn’t enough to fully support her, but with her education the feline was certain she’d manage to pick up another form of income.

That orchestra job had led her here, Station Square; a city filled to bursting with opportunity which just so happened to also contain a cheap apartment-share near the city’s centre. An application for said lodgings had brought her to the door she was now standing outside of, an entrance to the supposed accommodation that persisted above an old pizzeria. She didn’t know where she’d anticipated her life to restart but the fact it was somewhere this plain honestly excited her. No more private beach; she had to build her own luxury.

First impressions were important, she’d been chastised about them her entire life. She’d tried to dress modestly, what few of her more expensive outfits she’d brought she intended to sell online. Her hair was fixed into a tall ponytail that almost crowned her head, a ponytail that she’d already remade five times today. A long brown trench coat, the brown top button of which she redid, was successfully obscuring a comfortable striped t-shirt and (surprisingly expensive yet unassuming) bootcut jeans.

Once she was certain everything was in place and she had some form of greeting in mind, she dared to press the grimy electric buzzer. Almost immediately, a slightly overloud and static riddled voice answered her call, “Hello? Is that Blaze?”

“Yes, hello. I take it this is the residence of Silver the hedgehog?” She answered.

“Yeah, that’s me! It’s so nice to finally meet you, I hope…” He seemed to catch himself mid-sentence, though he went quiet, the buzzing persisted, “Oh, oops, I should probably open the door. Sorry! I’ll be right down!”

The buzzing finally faded and, once again, Blaze was left alone. That was the first time she’d ever heard his voice and, admittedly, she hadn’t been able to hear it very well. He sounded a lot more excitable than she’d truly anticipated. Their communication up until now had been limited to brief emails and, as a result, she didn’t actually know very much about the man she’d be living with for the foreseeable future. He had no criminal record, the flat itself both looked nice and was affordable, but beyond his job working in the museum and need for an additional housemate, that was the limit of her knowledge. Well, that and the picture attached to his=

Before Blaze could ponder on it for any longer, the white painted door before her swung open and a figure practically burst into view. She wasn’t sure who or what she’d expected out of this museum worker, but she certainly wasn’t this. A set of seven ludicrously long quills immediately consumed Blaze’s vision, followed by a set of excitable yellow eyes and a vaguely sun-kissed muzzle. He was rather peculiarly dressed too; he wore a jumper with a strangely low cut that allowed a seemingly endless flare of white chest fur to slip free. As if that wasn’t odd enough, he wore gloves that were lit by a bizarre cyan symbol on both their front and back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Blaze!” His smile matched his eyes so very perfectly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Silver,” She half bowed, already feeling a little overwhelmed. The picture she’d seen had made him look demurer, his quills had been tied back and he’d been in his work uniform. She truly hadn’t considered that he’d be a head taller than her.

Almost immediately, he seemed to notice her luggage. Without even blinking, he gestured past her, “Oh, you must be exhausted. I can help with those!” Blaze’s surprise transmuted into total befuddlement at what happened next. With that wave of the hedgehog’s hand, those cyan symbols began to glow much brighter and Blaze heard shifting behind her. Before she could turn, all four of her bags had taken to the air and hovered above her head, “I’ll take them up and show you around, come on.”

She stood in the doorway for a moment, entirely dumbfounded. She knew people with powers like hers existed, but they were rare enough that she had never met another. To think that the first person she’d ever stay with, the first person she’d encounter, was capable of such a feat though? This Silver was filled to burst with surprises. Catching herself though, butterfly-eagles still running rampant in her stomach, Blaze began to give chase.

The hallway leading up to the flat itself wasn’t very well lit, but it was homely enough. It led up to a landing where (judging by the small pile) shoes were supposed to be kicked off. Following it was a glass door that immediately opened into a small and very well stocked kitchen. It didn’t smell like anything was cooking at the moment but, judging by the drying rack, he had been hard at work.

“I cook quite a lot,” As he called back, Blaze couldn’t help but notice the hedgehog had gone from walking to floating amongst her luggage, “Are you much of a chef?”

“Not particularly,” Blaze admitted, nonchalantly. What few cooking lessons she’d received had gone especially poorly.

“Oh, well, if you’re ever in trouble or want to learn then let me know,” He offered, spinning back around to face forward, “I made a little something to celebrate your arrival, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh, thank you,” She said, now doubly surprised at his fast kindness.

Blaze took a sniff but, curiously, couldn’t smell whatever it was he’d mentioned. The hedgehog had clearly done a good job of cleaning up in preparation for her arrival, but then again… she had no idea whether the apartment had been messy in the first place. She passed an open door that seemed to lead into a small combination dining room and sitting room. Two patchwork couches sat near the room’s centre, a modest TV cresting just over them and a coffee table between them.

“Is this a violin case?” He called back, drawing her attention away from the room.

“Yes, it is,” She responded, noticing that he’d turned mid-flight and was now hovering the violin between them, “I’m joining city’s orchestra. I’ll need to practice fairly often, but if there’s ever a time you need quiet then feel free to say.”

“Oh, no, free to play it all you want honestly, the place downstairs just does take away and, apparently, the floor is pretty well soundproofed,” He said, that excitement still clinging to his voice as he landed outside a door, “That’s amazing, I’ve always wanted to meet a violinist. I can’t wait to hear you play, you must be wonderful!”

“I’m well practiced,” She coyly admitted, not used to barrages of kindness (let alone praise). She could feel herself locking up but tried to fight it, “Is this my room?”

“Oh, yeah. It is,” The hedgehog nodded, patting himself down before seeming to realise something. With a wave of his hand up the hallway, Blaze watched as a small set of keys raced their way from the kitchen area to float in front of her, “Almost forgot these.”

“Th-Thank you,” Blaze cursed her stutter, plucking them from the air. They found their way to the lock but, before she dared to push inside, she decided to feed her curiosity. He seemed so very open, it couldn’t hurt to pry, “How long have you been able to do that?”

“For as long as I can remember. It comes in pretty handy around the house, if you ever need anything moved then just say,” He grinned, clearly somewhat proud to have made a positive impression with his powers.

“I see,” She hummed, turning the key. She certainly wasn’t comfortable immediately revealing her power to him but, then again, her name was probably a bit of a give-away. Ideally, he wouldn’t question it, “It does seem rather useful.”

Blaze pushed the door open and found herself faced, for the first time today, with a sight she’d expected. The room wasn’t even half the size of her prior bedroom, its walls were both blank and painted off-white. Unlike the other rooms in the house, a grey carpet persisted underfoot. Blaze watched as her bags hovered through the door and landed inside in a small, neat, pile.

“I know it’s not especially stunning, but the landlord says you can decorate it if you want. I did my room up a couple months ago, before I moved in. It’s easier than you think, I’d be happy to help,” Blaze couldn’t tell whether it was due to her cold expression or some sudden realisation, but the hedgehog seemed to falter and turn away, “S-Sorry, I’ve never had a flatmate before, I guess I’m a little overexcited.”

“You haven’t?” She questioned though, in hindsight, the underdeveloped room spoke volumes.

“I’ve moved from place to place quite a lot, living in tiny, two-room, apartments,” He explained.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll manage to figure this out between the two of us,” She wanted to give a reassuring smile but was fairly certain it would only scare him off. It seemed like neither of them were particularly good at this, “Thank you, Silver.”

“I’ll leave you to get comfortable. If you need anything I’ll just be, uh, in here,” He tapped the door opposite, assumedly his bedroom, “There’s an en suite in your room and, um, I think that’s everything? If you need me then just call.”

Blaze nodded and allowed herself the smallest of smiles, “Perhaps, once I’ve put everything away, we could look over the paperwork?”

“Oh, sure, okay! Just say when,” He managed to grin again, ducking back into his room but not bothering to close the door.

Blaze matched him, stepping inside and heaving a sigh of relief. She’d made it through her first interaction with her flatmate, she’d made it to her new home, she was so close to relaxation. There was a small, single, bed against the wall with a tiny wooden bedside cabinet next to it. A reasonably sized, yet still small in her experience, closet was set up against the far wall and she could see the door that likely led to the bathroom. This was liveable, she could do this, it was just the first step in something new.

Unpacking her clothes and amenities took quite a lot longer than she’d anticipated, getting everything onto hangers and into the right place was relaxing albeit slow. There was nowhere especially practical to place her violin so it’d ended up propped against the far wall for the foreseeable future. The final of her bags still sat where Silver had placed it, entirely filled. Vanilla had packed it for her, saying its contents were mere food and cutlery, but she had made the feline promise not to open it until she was settled in her new home. Well, it was finally time.

Blaze hoisted the bag onto her freshly made bed, immediately creasing her work but not especially minding. She quickly brought the zip around, popping the top open, and was stunned by what she saw. The rabbit hadn’t lied, cutlery and non-perishables of all sorts filled the base of the bag, but a small note affixed to an object that Blaze hadn’t even thought about in almost ten years sat atop the other goods. A certain bottle that had washed up on the beach just after she had sent her own message to sea.

Vanilla’s note was short and simple, “Enjoy your new life, don’t forget to write and remember, they’re out there somewhere,” Concluded with a small, winking, smiley face.

Slipping onto the bed, Blaze found herself cradling both the note and the bottle. While that day on the beach stuck out in her mind like a sore thumb, perhaps due to the familial chaos that had come before it, the contents of this bottle did not. She hadn’t thought about that day often, especially not in the latter six of those twelve years, but whenever a book or a person mentioned the concept of soulmates she’d recall but never mention the occurrence. Admittedly, the young feline had long accepted that the note had in fact been written by Vanilla in an attempt to cheer her up following her childish strop. She didn’t believe in such nonsense then and she certainly didn’t now. Still, what was the harm in giving the coincidental note another read for nostalgia’s sake?

Blaze unscrewed the lid, giving the green aluminium top a quick once over before setting it on her bedside table. Wherever it had come from, the bottle had long lost any identifiable markings, but it was more bulbous than that containing any drink she’d ever had. She managed to get a finger in and, with some difficulty, pluck the note free. The sheet felt more like card than paper and was riddled with creases from its initial folding so many years ago. The handwriting was, admittedly, awful. She’d written her note as a child, but this letter looked to have been written with extreme haste. Regardless, due mostly to the large spaces between words, Blaze could make it all out.

It read:

“Hi there! If you’re reading this then I guess you know who I am? Just in case; I’m your soulmate! I can’t wait to meet you, I’m sure we’re going to get along great! I can’t write all that much about myself, otherwise the bottle will sink to the bottom of the sea, but I’m supposed to describe what I think our relationship might be like? But I’ve never been in one before, I’ve never had a soulmate before, so I’m not sure what to do or what to tell you.

People tell me that I’m a little blunt and that I wear my heart on my sleeve and that I’m pretty gullible. I’m not so sure, but I guess they’d know better than me? I really like sweet food! I can’t have a lot of it, we can’t really afford it, but that’s okay because it’s not good for me anyway. I also really like history books. The lost worlds of the past are so interesting to me and I’d love to discover more of them. I hope you like them too! I guess I can’t write about this too much, but I have a special skill that comes in useful quite a lot. It helps me tidy up and cook and get to all sorts of places, even ones I’m not really supposed to.

I don’t know you yet, but I hope you’re nice. I don’t really know a lot about love, a lot of my friends think it’s gross but not me! I think it’s nice knowing that there’s someone out there for me and I’m just waiting to meet someone. If I can make a difference, even if it’s just for one person, then I’ll be happy, so I’ll try my hardest to make you happy! I’m learning to cook and bake so you don’t have to worry about that, I can already make spaghetti!

Please stay safe and I can’t wait to read what you send me!

From your soulmate”

Blaze’s nose wrinkled as she reached the end of the note. She’d decided years ago that Vanilla had written this note, perhaps with her left hand so as to forge childish writing, but something was bothering her. The feline’s eyes traced back up the note, specifically lingering on the mention of a special skill that helped the individual to cook and clean. A foolish thought entered her head, a quiet whisper that was still loud enough to break the otherwise peaceful silence. Reading over the page again, the bluntness and earnestness mentioned further loudened that quiet voice.

Catching herself in her own stupidity, Blaze quickly rerolled the paper and returned it to its bottle. Not quite knowing what to do with it now, feeling a bizarre heat on her face, she set it on her bedside cabinet and threw her gaze to her lap. Attempting to escape the heat, and realising she’d been too distracted to do so earlier, she undid her jacket and shrugged it from her shoulders.

The occurrence ten years ago was just one of many bizarre occurrences in the flame producing feline’s life, she’d seen her fair share of oddness and coincidence. There was absolutely no way that this bottle had come from the person she was now living with, she’d long decided it was a forgery made to keep her happy. It wasn’t like anyone was pulling at the strings of fate. Even if Vanilla hadn’t made it, for a bottle from someone else, someone who clearly believed in the superstition, to have drifted to shore while she was out there... that was possible, wasn’t it? Just as it was possible she’d seen some vague familiarities between the man she’d just met and that note’s writer.

She took her head in her hands, she was being ridiculous. It must have all been induced by her nerves, she was in a new city and living with a stranger, of course she was going to overthink things. There was no way she’d just stumbled into living with her soulmate; she didn’t even believe in soulmates. She’d never believed in soulmates and now, of all times, wasn’t the time to start. Blaze rose from the bed, collected the goods from her remaining suitcase and made a beeline for the door.

When she stepped into the hall though, her eyes were unintentionally drawn through the askew door of his bedroom. Though she could only see perhaps the smallest quarter, assuming that their rooms were the same, she’d locked eyes with a corkboard. A corkboard with many sticky notes tacked to it but also a small, curled, notebook page stuck to it rather than pierced by a tack. With each passing second Blaze felt her face grow hotter and heard her thoughts grow evermore foolish. It was as though fate was tempting her to burst into the room and look at it, or at the very least ask him about it. But that was the height of foolishness, she’d surely sound insane or rude at the very best. What self-respecting adult believed in such a fairy-tale, let alone would discuss it with a new flatmate on the first day they’d even met! She couldn’t ask about that leaflet now of all times! That would look ridiculous!

His mention of always wanting to meet a violinist metamorphosed in her mind from a show of kindness to a potential deeply held honesty. She didn’t recall much of the letter she’d written, but Blaze knew that she’d listed some of her hobbies. She’d only just started to play the stringed instrument, it’d surely been included.

Finding herself lost and dazed in the hallway, Blaze couldn’t help but call out, “Silver?”

She heard what sounded like the hedgehog falling over before he rushed into the doorway, quills wildly tossed, “Hey, is everything alright?”

Blaze swallowed, “I’ve just got some stuff to put in the kitchen and I think I’m ready to sign the papers, as long as you’re not busy?”

“Oh no, don’t worry; I was just doing a little reading, let’s do it,” He beamed, taking to the air again and leading the way to the kitchen.

She felt an immediate impulse to enter his room, he’d left the door open, but Blaze knew that was foolish. No, the much louder thought in Blaze’s brain was questioning what he was reading. The hedgehog worked in a museum; it was likely that he liked to read about history. Even if he was, it would have just been another coincidence… but things were lining up more and more. What was today? Was this all just some bizarre dream?

Blaze begrudgingly followed the white hedgehog, finding herself analysing him more than she probably should. His fur and quills were unkempt but it wasn’t as though he was dirty, just fluffy. She supposed his fur must just have grown out like that. The strange cyan energy he produced seemed to let him guide both himself and objects through the air… perhaps even other people. Blaze could certainly see how useful this power would be for cleaning… it probably let him make multiple dishes and clean at the same time too, pending how it worked.

Heat flashed across her face again and, reflexively, she balled her fists. Though she’d long learned to keep her powers under control, their connection to her emotions was a constant worry. Embarrassment, of all emotions, was one she hadn’t yet managed to control. While it lacked the ferocity and excitability of anger, it was still especially important to keep it subdued. If she let them, these thoughts would do much more than reveal her power. She might burn down her new home before she could spend a night-

“Blaze?” His voice tore her from her thoughts, he’d made it to the kitchen while she’d frozen up in the hall, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine I’m just,” She scrambled for the right words, marching towards him, “I’ve not settled yet, I’m still getting used to this arrangement. Just getting my bearings.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” He nodded, still smiling so very brightly, “Take all the time you need. You said online that you’d never lived away from home before, right?”

“I’d visit hotels with my family but, outside that, yes,” Blaze answered, stepping into the kitchen, “I know I’m a little old for that to be the case but…”

“No, no. Don’t worry, I get it and I know it’s pretty scary,” He smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I’ve moved around a lot and your first night in a new place is always weird, let alone your first time anywhere new,” His smile faltered just a little, he began to scratch among his quills, “I’m sorry if I’m making it worse. I’ve been trying to make things more comfortable but I’m probably going a little overboard, right?”

“N-No, no, you’re doing fine,” Blaze quickly replied but she knew that her stutter betrayed the truth. Her failure to convey what she was actually feeling was simultaneously a blessing and a curse this evening. She tried to smile, “Thank you, Silver.”

“It’s no problem. You can put your stuff wherever you want, but I cleaned these two cupboards out for you. I keep the pots and pans in the big drawer and the cutlery in the one above that,” He pointed, his grin slightly returning, “Oh and there should be enough fridge space, I hope?”

Setting the bag down again, Blaze quickly began to unload Vanilla’s parting gifts. She kept the hedgehog in the corner of her eye, watching as he pulled a magnet from the fridge and slid free a small bundle of papers. Assumedly, that was the lease. He then, seeming to realise he didn’t have a pen, gestured up the hall again. The face he, likely unknowingly, pulled as he reached for the pen was far too serious, his soft features barely allowed for it. He seemed very innocent, harmless even; judging by his apologies, despite his attempts to appear confident, this was surely all very new to him too.

“Is something wrong? Is there not enough space?” He asked, catching her staring.

“N-No, no. It’s fine, there’s more than enough,” She quickly looked away, shoving bushels of pasta into the cupboard as she tried her damnedest not to ignore the little voice screaming inside her. The voice that kept repeating the line in that note, that the writer was often described as wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Too many pieces of this non-existent puzzle were lining up, far too many. As she shifted to put away her cutlery, lost in thought, she very almost knocked into him. Even if it was all somehow true, even though that was entirely possible, then that didn’t actually mean anything. It wasn’t like just knowing some miraculous coincidence had happened meant they were bound to stay together forever or fall in love or whatever. She didn’t know him, he didn’t know her either! They’d hardly even talked!

As the last pan clattered into place, Blaze dared to throw another glance his way. The hedgehog had set the paperwork down on the unit and entered the fridge. Blaze hadn’t ever looked for a relationship before and she certainly hadn’t intended to now. She hadn’t really looked at boys or girls or anyone for that matter, but something was bothering her. Perhaps it was just a result of his earnestness, perhaps it was because he looked so fluffy and soft, but there was something almost… charming about him. Was he attractive? Was he cute? Beauty was supposed to be in the eye of the beholder and this beholder had literally no idea what she found attractive.

The moment his bright yellow eyes hit hers, she understood that aspect of herself just a little better. He’d leaned out of the fridge, having not actually taken anything, “I noticed that we need a witness, do you know anyone else around here who you’d like to be it? I can witness it if that’s okay with you but, you know, don’t want to impose or anything. Landlord owns the place downstairs and said you can just leave it there.”

“I-I’m fine with that, yes,” She quickly rose to stand straight, taking the pen and papers from him, “Don’t worry, Silver. I’m just getting my bearings; you’ve been nothing but helpful.”

His smile returned, the spark of joy in those eyes rocked Blaze to her core, “If you’re sure. I’ll leave you to it then.”

Blaze quickly threw her eyes toward the document. She’d read it before online, of course she had, but it was her only escape! She quickly filled in her share before blindly passing the sheet back to Silver for his witness confirmation signature, pretending to be distracted by the spice rack.

When she finally dared to look at him, Blaze found that Silver had casually let go of the objects he’d gathered and left them to hang in the air. Though she’d tried to fight it, Blaze couldn’t help but peer at his handwriting. He’d signed his name twice, both on the landlord’s copy and her own. It’d been at least ten years since the message in the bottle had been written, of course the writer’s handwriting would have changed over that time, but Blaze couldn’t help noticing the slightly scrawled nature of his penmanship. His handwriting wasn’t bad per say but it wasn’t in cursive, and it certainly wasn’t what you’d call neat. Though she longed to think of it in any other way, that was yet another strike in the soulmate column.

“Oh, um,” The hedgehog’s hand returned to his quills, “I don’t know if you’ve had dinner or anything, and you don’t need to eat it if you don’t want it, but I was so excited for you coming so,” He gestured into the fridge, “I made a cheesecake. Feel free to grab a slice whenever, it looks like it's properly set now.”

The hedgehog couldn’t just cook, he could bake. Alone that fact would mean nothing but, with all this compiling evidence, Blaze felt her head spin and more heat jumped to her face. She shifted by him, glancing into the fridge, and sure enough, there it sat. A biscuit base topped with a creamy yellow mass and decorated with what looked to be some kind of cherry or strawberry jell or jam. She took hold of the door to steady herself, feeling the heat gather and gather on her face until a single spark ignited near the tip of her nose and, with a small pop, burgeoned into a flame. Blaze ran her free hand down her face, snuffing it immediately, but the thoughts that prompted it still ran rampant in her mind.

“Eh, Blaze? Are you okay?” She heard him shift and felt him looking over her shoulder, standing so very close, “You’ve gone all red.”

She had no idea how much of that he’s seen but, regardless, his innocence was astounding. His reaction to that pop and a palpable burst of heat from the fridge wasn’t to question what had happened but if she was okay. His concern for her was so very plain, his heart truly was fastened to his sleeve, he truly was very naïve. She had no idea what his life had been like up until this point, no idea who he really was just as he had no idea who she truly was. They were just a pair of very socially awkward individuals, albeit in very different ways, who happened to have collided due to the machinations of either fate or coincidence. She still couldn’t just up and tell him about these thoughts or the message she’d received but, regardless of them and whether this was fate or not, it was only right that she got to the bottom of this.

“I-I’ll have some if you will,” She blurted out, turning away from the fridge and towards him. Though embarrassment was surely twisting her face into a grimace, he still looked so kindly, “Maybe we should have a sit down and… get to know each other a little better?” The day’s travel had run her ragged, but nothing could compare to this past fifteen minutes, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

#silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #sonic the hedgehog #soulmate #fanfiction

38 notes · View notes