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#well this set is pretty tragic
changdol · 2 years
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Haknyeon 'WHISPER' (2022)
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theolddivorcedzukka · 2 years
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thinking about zuko like mmhmmhnh the tragedy never ends
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r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e · 10 months
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idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —
“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.
“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”
except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —
“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”
“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”
“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.
so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.
rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.
they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.
and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.
once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.
it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.
they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.
jesus christ, eddie thinks.
they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —
the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.
eddie is maybe a little bit in love.
they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.
“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“
“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“
“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“
“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”
“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.
“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.
“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.
“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.
eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.
“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.
“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.
“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.
“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.
where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.
hm, eddie thinks.
“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”
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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months
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Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience
The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.
Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.
I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.
Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.
But wait! There’s more!
You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.
This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”
This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)
Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.
Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?
Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.
And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?
Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.
And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.
Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?
For…all of it.
All of the time that ever existed.
They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.
And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.
That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.
I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.
Do you know how uncommon that is?
Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.
That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.
And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.
And then you have the end of S2.
And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.
And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.
Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.
It just works.
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notaplaceofhonour · 2 months
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One of the most frustrating parts of the extreme rhetoric around Israel/Palestine (besides the obvious reliance on antisemitic & anti-Arab, Islamophobic tropes) is that it exceptionalizes so many things that are actually pretty standard features of nation-states and war in a way that completely compartmentalizes the criticism of these things into just being about criticizing the “few bad apple” countries instead of criticizing the entire institution of nation-states and war as a whole.
For instance: the fact is that war kills civilians, at an alarming average of 6:1 civilians-to-combatants deaths. The status quo of war, across the board, is that way more civilians die than combatants. And yet, despite the high death toll, despite Hamas using civilian infrastructure & noncombatants as human shields (which Hamas has openly admitted to doing), despite the imprecise & destructive nature of using bombs on urban targets, and despite the inadequate humanitarian aid that has been able to make it into Gaza… the IDF has still managed to stayed well below the average of civilian casualties.
The point of saying this is not “this is what war looks like so it’s not a big deal” it’s “this is what war looks like so we as a species need to stop doing it”—seeing the devastation war has brought to the people Gaza should move you, and it should make you never want to see another war again. It should make you want a ceasefire not just for Israel and this war but all wars always. And obviously, in practice, it’s not that simple—peace is more than “just don’t do war” and the thing about ceasefires and peace treaties is they kind of have to be mutual to mean anything—but the point stands: War Bad.
However, if instead you see the destruction in Gaza and think it’s an exceptional case, where Israel is evil and the only way war could be this destructive is genocide, you get to preserve this romanticized, idealistic fantasy of war as, violent yes, but perhaps only in a cathartic, tragic-but-beautiful way—a glorious struggle where two armies clash on a battlefield far removed from everyday life and only soldiers die. You get to preserve your belief in Just War, to look forward to a morally uncomplicated Glorious Revolution™️—you may even preserve your ability to cheer on the death of Israelis.
And that’s just one issue. There are others: the claim of “ethnostate” obscures criticisms of nation-states as a concept, the claim of “apartheid” obscures criticisms of how borders & citizenship are set up across the world, etc. This inverse Israeli Exceptionalism where Israel is treated as uniquely or exceptionally problematic isn’t simply discriminatory or rooted in prejudice (which are reasons enough to criticize it, as I have), it’s actively impeding the left’s ability to criticize the actual structural systems that are the problem.
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Cyberpunk
housewifekeeper droid!jongho x programmer!reader
futuristic/apocalyptic droid au
genres and warnings: fluff, angst, established relationship, a bit tragic but no tears i hope :) yunho, woo and san cameos, violence warnings, hostage situation, near-death experiences, etc.
word count: 23.7k
synopsis: when you find jongho assigned to be a droid you need to 'fix', it takes everything in your power to pretend that you don't know him, that he isn't the boyfriend you left behind to keep safe. with no idea where you are and being under constant surveillance while trying to find a way to turn jongho back to human, you manage to run away with him only to learn a shocking and sinister truth that makes you regret ever being part of the eden droid project. you must put an end to your mistakes once and for all, and it may cost you a lot.
manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we call it cryberpunk bc it became the bane of our existence)
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“You really think I’m incapable of taking care of myself?” you asked, making a face as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ve been doing just fine so far, Sir.”
“You’ve lost a lot of weight ever since we woke up, so yes, you definitely haven’t been eating well. You can’t keep surviving on instant noodles,” your supervisor, Mr. Han said. “Besides, this is a good chance to test if the droids we’ve programmed can actually perform household tasks.”
“I did not programme droids to make food for us,” you muttered under your breath but you supposed that was the least of your worries right now. “I’m pretty sure you need a housekeeper more than me. A housewife, perhaps. You must miss your wife.”
Mr. Han only smiled in response and you felt annoyed by that. It was as if an unspoken rule had been passed- that no one could talk about their life before they ‘woke up’. You reckoned everyone was just keeping silent until one of them would complain out loud. It hadn’t been that long since that little episode so you figured no one was that desperate right now. 
“It’s the Team Leader’s orders. Nothing I can do about it. Maybe I’ll get a droid next to drive me around- if they’ll allow it. It would be nice to have a look around this empty town and see if we’re the only ones awake while the rest of the world is asleep.”
“I don’t like this,” you pursed your lips, scratching your wrists. Something about all of this was making you anxious. “Just between you and me, are they really sus-”
Mr. Han shushed you with a finger on his lips, his eyes flickering in the direction of the CCTV in the corner of your office. “They’re testing out your droids, miss. You know what they say- a perfect droid should be as good in battle as it is in the kitchen.”
“Wasn’t that supposed to be a joke?” You muttered, deciding to leave it there. “It feels like a big joke. It’s like my droids are being insulted by being placed in the kitchen.”
“You thank the deities there isn’t a war right now,” Mr. Han almost whispered. “When everyone wakes up… there might be. And if there is a war in the future when every nation will possess their own set of droids, when you have to run for your life and are injured… who do you think will take care of you? Not a human, I’ll bet.”
Those words stuck with you during your ride back home. They kept looming over your head while you took a shower and changed into a comfortable set of light blue pyjamas. With a towel hat, you sauntered into the kitchen to make yourself coffee, looking in the fridge for something to snack on and finding nothing.
Perhaps you really did need a housekeeper. A droid- one that wouldn’t complain and would do as told.
And as the doorbell rang after a few minutes, you took your words back when you opened the door to a familiar face. The anxious feeling in your gut finally settled in resignation.
This was what you had been dreading. 
A million thoughts processed in your head in a matter of seconds- maybe you could give the droids a run for your quick decision-making. Because you needed to make a big decision, right now. 
It had to be some sick, twisted joke that Dr. Jin, Head of the Eden Droid Project, was playing with you. There was no way that this wasn’t intentional. Of all the 7 billion people in this world, they chose the one person you had been wishing would never appear in front of you- at least not until you were done wrapping up what you had begun.
Choi Jongho. Your best friend, the person you loved and had to leave for good.
The one person you had done everything in your power to hide from these people, from everyone. Hell, you didn’t even dare think of him ever since everything went downhill lest someone spy on your own thoughts. 
And now he was here, and worse, a droid. A lab rat. His left pupil flickered blue to confirm that.
“I’m CJ, the droid assigned to take care of your personal needs.”
“CJ,” his codename rolled like a foreign language on your tongue, your voice coming out as almost a whimper but you cleared your throat. “CJ. The housewife, eh?”
The droid appeared confused and you, for the first time, loathed programming the droid’s facial expressions to sync with the human emotions. “I’m not quite sure…”
“The assistant,” you let out a short laugh. “I presume you have your identification files and code?”
Jongho said your team’s code out loud before handing you the files and you quickly looked over them. Assigned by your own team- how fucking convenient. You nodded and handed the files back, peeking behind him- looked like he had his personal belongings. “Please, enter and make yourself at home… I guess?”
“There’s another document you need to look at before I enter,” Jongho said almost mechanically, digging out a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and your brows rose in surprise when you saw that it was from Dr. Jin himself. Begrudgingly, you unsealed the letter and read the contents, the smile falling from your face when you were done.
“Alright,” you breathed. “I see how it is. You can enter now… CJ-”
You caught Jongho staring at you almost like he was fully human. Fear gripped your heart in that moment and when he only bowed in response, you stifled the sigh of relief. He stepped inside your apartment, looking around. He was probably scanning every nook and cranny for potential threats. When he was satisfied, he turned to you.
“Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“Tonight… nothing,” you nodded slowly as you thought. “I’ll show you your room and you can uh… rest? You should wake up at 7 tomorrow and prepare a light breakfast for the both of us before accompanying me to the office. That should be your first task.”
“Understood,” he said and you showed him the spare room and he assured you he had his basic personal necessities. You went to your room, the coffee long forgotten at the kitchen counter and you shut the door. 
Make no mistakes.
You turned off the lights and went under the blankets, covering your face like you usually did- and that’s when you let out a shaky exhale and let your emotions take the better of you.
There could only be two reasons why Jongho was here as the droid assigned to you. The first one was pure coincidence- maybe he was just one of the other humans randomly selected by your team. Maybe this was all just bad luck. Maybe this was a slap on your face from the force above, since you dared to play god yourself. 
But another possibility… the one that made more sense, was that they knew. They knew Jongho was someone important from your ‘previous’ life. From before you entered Phase I of the Eden Droid Project- . They must have known and were using that to their advantage, but either way…
Either way, Jongho wasn’t sent to assist you and play housewife. That was all bullshit. He had one purpose, and that was to have you under surveillance. That probably meant that the New Government was aware that you weren’t as loyal as you appeared to be. Perhaps, this was a test of your loyalty, and they were going to confirm it with the task that was detailed in that letter.
Fix CJ.
Two words, yet you understood the message. You were to live with the droid for a certain period of time and fix the only glitch your droids had- that they were too human. All the while, you would definitely be under surveillance by him. Perhaps, the Team Leader thought that giving you the space you needed with your own personal test subject was what you needed to finish debugging the droid. Perhaps, they knew you had been delaying fixing the droids on purpose. Whatever it was, you had no choice now. 
You would have to fix Jongho or else you would be exterminated along with him.
—---------------------
It was almost unsettling waking up to the smell of eggs, butter and bread. For the few seconds that you lay in the bed, you almost thought you were back in your parent’s home and your mom’s voice would call you for breakfast or your sister Cookie would tickle you until you yell at her, but the bed was too soft and the blanket did not smell like the sun. The alarm rang only a few seconds later and on cue, two solid knocks sounded at the door.
“Miss Jeon? Breakfast is ready.”
God, you thought. This was going to be difficult.
You said you’d be out in 10 minutes and forced yourself to walk to the bathroom like every other day. Somehow, your steps felt heavier than the first day you woke up here. The feelings of disorientation and panic then were nothing compared to the anxiety that dissolved in your bones the moment you heard Jongho’s voice.
Whatever you did, you could not slip. You would have to keep on pretending that Jongho was just a stranger, a droid to you. Just a bug that needed fixing, you told yourself as you exited the room and walked towards the kitchen-
“I told you, the pan needs to be tapped in the middle of baking so the top of the brownies crinkle!” Jongho said as he took out the said pan, now with fully baked fudge brownies with a perfect crinkly top and you gasped at how good it looked. “Would you believe me if I say this really is my first try?”
“Looks too good to be a first try,” you admitted. “I’ll give my verdict after I taste these. Who knows? Might find an eggshell in there.”
“Hey, what do you take me for?!” Jongho looked offended and you grinned. He shook his head as he cut a piece for you and put it on your plate. You spotted a faint smile on his face and you dug your fork in the brownie, about to take that bite when he tsk-ed and held your wrist.
“You’ll burn your mouth,” he took the fork from your hand and you pouted. You watched him wait a few seconds, blow on that little bite before feeding it to you himself. Your eyes went wide as soon as you realised how rich the brownies tasted.
“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Jongho. You’ve just won my entire heart all over again.”
Jongho burst into laughter, looking down and you leaned across the counter to cup his face and make him look at you. “You look at me when you laugh like that, okay?”
“Stop it,” he wriggled away from you, a flustered mess. “Let me taste them.”
“Here,” you took your fork and blew on the new bite before handing it to him. He nodded in satisfaction. “Normally, I wouldn’t contribute to anything that would give you an ego-boost, but this one deserves it. Cookie won’t believe it when she hears about this.”
Jongho smiled once again, continuing to cut the rest of the brownies for later. “What did you mean when you said… that I won your heart again?”
You stifled your smile. “You want to hear it?”
Jongho looked expectantly at you in response. You scanned his figure- his hair messily swept back, flour on his cheeks, rolled sleeves baring his strong arms, and to top it all, your apron on him. Your smile grew wider.
“I fell in love with you all over again.”
“Miss Jeon?” Jongho called, frowning at the way you stood in the middle of the living room, your eyes stuck on the apron that wasn’t yours on the person who wasn’t yours. He wasn’t even the same person anymore.
“Sorry,” you gulped, shaking your head. “Needed a moment to process uh… what I’m seeing right now.”
Jongho didn’t respond and that finally made you move and sit at the table where he set down a mug of coffee. He would have retorted if things were normal and you smiled sadly to yourself at the thought. You heard the clink of the mug and when you saw Jongho pick up his own tray of breakfast and move, you cleared your throat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” 
“To eat my breakfast and give you privacy while you eat yours?”
This was the time to make things clear- better yet if you were being watched. You put one leg over the other before you said, “Look, I assume you know what you’re here for, CJ. Who are you?”
“A droid that needs a little fixing.”
“And how would I figure out what needs to be fixed if I don’t watch your every move?” You cocked your head. “Does that make you feel unsettled?”
“I do not feel, for I am a droid,” Jongho responded mechanically and you shook your head, urging him to join you. You detected reluctance in his movements and your heart sank a little.
“That’s the thing with you droids,” you almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “You forget that you are humans programmed to be droids. Until you possess human nature, you cannot be fixed… that’s what I believe. The superiors think otherwise. What do you think… droid?”
“I…” Jongho frowned again. “I’m just following orders.”
“I know,” you told him and he relaxed a bit. “We’ll need to interact and talk more for me to figure out what exactly needs to be fixed, okay?”
“Okay,” he said. You took a bite of the bread and he mirrored your actions. You ate the rest of your breakfast in silence, finishing together. 
“I will examine your code when we go to the office,” you told Jongho. “You will need to guide me a little. I may have created the blueprint for you droids but I haven’t programmed every single one of you.”
“You can access my code only at the office, by the way,” Jongho said and you set your cup down, almost clenching your jaw as you looked at him. “I’ve been programmed to reveal my code files only in the office.”
“Have you now?” You scoffed internally. “Well, I’ve been programmed to be a lazy bum who works best in the comfort of her home and I’m human, so let’s see how we deal with this… predicament.”
Jongho almost looked curiously at you. You checked the time and told him to meet you outside in 10 minutes. Just before he took your car keys from you and opened the door, you sighed.
“Do you know how to make brownies, CJ?”
—--------------------------
“Don’t you think it’s ironic?” You said, sparing a glance at your supervisor who was examining the code on the shared screen right across from you. “We’re trying to find an error in a human. Being human is the error. How do we override the nature of who the droid really is- completely and irrevocably?”
Mr. Han had heard that quite a lot, and not just from you. Every programmer and developer in this project had asked him this question at least once, and he often found himself wondering the same too. “I’m highlighting this line of code, see what you can do about it.”
You looked back at your screen and clicked your tongue. “Not this one. That’s Dr. Seo.”
“Oh, then I won’t tweak it,” he said, scrolling further. You glanced at Jongho who lay on his front on a stretcher with a cord attached to his back to access the chip and its data inside. He was unconscious which you thought was convenient but every time he came back to consciousness, you were afraid he was going to recognise you, make a mistake and destroy everything you had worked for so far.
How could you tell Jongho to pretend he didn’t know you without telling him?
“You look spent. Shall we call it a day?” Mr. Han caught you staring at the droid’s body.
“Please, yes,” you stretched dramatically, producing cracks and he chuckled at that. “The amount of times I have zoned out today… I think I need a chip inside me that would override my mental stamina at least.”
“Says you,” Mr. Han scoffed. “The child prodigy. The kid that built the foundation of this project.”
Oh, how you regretted that. “Please, you flatter me way too much. I was only one coder with a few hundred others.”
“But you were the youngest and your work is our blueprint. I have every right to flatter you,” he said, his conclusion leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Dinner at the cafeteria?”
“Why would I? I have my own personal chef now,” you grinned.
“I thought you were against droids doing housework or something.”
“Yeah, well,” you finished shutting down the programme and unplugged Jongho. “This one is quite good at it.”
Jongho was, and it was making you realise a few things- muscle memory. Something you nor any coder so far had considered to be a factor worthy of attention. You noticed that when he made the brownies for you a few days ago and exactly at half-time, he opened the oven to tap the pan against the counter once. 
It took everything in your power to not react to that. To not let your emotions take the better of you and maintain your composure. However, you did ask him if he had accessed some recipes recently before making the brownies and when he denied, you knew then. You knew that this was not only from memory but muscle memory.  
Could this be the reason droids were not perfect? That their muscle memory was ingrained in them to the extent that no programme, no code so far had overridden it? 
Whatever it was, you knew you had to keep this observation to yourself.
As Jongho started to regain consciousness, you maintained a certain distance between you two, glancing around- most of your colleagues had signed off for the day. There were only a few at the far end of the room and then there was Mr. Han who was just leaving for the cafeteria. You locked eyes with the droid and found your hands getting clammy when he started blinking rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. As soon as he looked at you, you started tapping on the desk lightly, waiting for something while praying for the opposite.
Waiting for him to look at what your fingers were tapping and praying that he wouldn’t recognise it, even if you were doing this to rock his human memory.
However, your prayers were actually answered this time and Jongho straightened as the confusion in his eyes disappeared. “CJ of Team 8.”
“That’s right, welcome back,” you sighed, tossing him his t-shirt and he wore it. It irked you a lot, how the droid was not reacting to having woken up from unconsciousness without clothes on his upper body. Jongho would have been a flustered mess.
This was not Jongho. He looked as different as he felt different.
“We’re done for the day,” you told him when he got up. “Are you feeling okay? Any haziness? Something off?”
“Perfectly fine, Miss,” he confirmed and you nodded. 
“Let’s go, then,” you said. 
Over the past few days, you had made no progress whatsoever with the droid assigned to you. You weren’t sure if people were expecting quick results from you- Mr. Han was monitoring each and every move you made in the office as if you weren’t already being surveilled by the droid itself. You were half certain that Mr. Han was also ordered to keep an eye on you but you’ve always had doubts about that man. His ‘fatherly’ nature was a little too overbearing and demanding at times.
You had no idea how long you were going to keep working on Jongho until he would be deemed ‘unfit’ like the other droids you had failed to save. Failed to fix, actually, but resultantly, they lost their lives. You could not do that to Jongho- perhaps, fixing him as a droid was the only way you could save him, but…
How could you do that to him?
How could you do that to him, you wondered as he set the table and settled down on the chair in front of you, saying his usual ‘enjoy your meal’ before digging in himself. You almost expected him to put a piece of meat in your bowl like he used to do before everything went wrong. You almost expected him to ask you what was wrong when you would zone out just like you were now-
“You’re not eating,” the droid said.
A simple statement, void of emotion, but…
Muscle memory.
Could this be what could really change everything?
“I… I’m just tired,” you said. The truth, but you wished you could tell him what exactly was going on. You put a spoonful in your mouth anyway. 
“You worked overtime today,” Jongho said and you nodded. This droid had a knack for sounding way too human, or maybe you were over analysing everything because it was someone you were familiar with. “Would you like me to make you some tea after dinner?”
“No, thanks. I’ll make my own tea,” you scoffed to yourself. If his muscle memory was really still intact, he would get your tea just right and you were not prepared for that. “Isn’t it ironic, though?”
“What is ironic?”
“Humans have made so many machines for the sole purpose of serving them,” you ate another spoon as you watched Jongho, noticing that he needed a haircut now. “All these machines, and yet they would prefer a human to work in the kitchen.”
“A droid is not a human.”
“A droid is a human,” you corrected, locking eyes with him in challenge. “A machine is something like… that coffee-maker. That microwave,” you pointed. “Something like that, yeah? As long as you have a functioning heart, you are human.”
“Whatever you say, Miss,” Jongho said almost dismissively and you rolled your eyes at his automatic response. 
“I wonder if humans need someone to work in the kitchen for them- for a specific taste that only humans can construct or to keep company or for whatever reason… why would they not send these heartless machines to fight for them? Why would they send humans?”
“A machine can only make so many decisions,” the droid said.
“Yeah, well, they want me to fully turn you into a machine,” you scoffed loudly. Damned be the consequences- if they were watching you, they should pay heed to your words. “What’s the point of you being a human-turned-droid then? We could have built a human shaped machine designed for war from scratch. We could install whatever thinking ability it needs.”
“But it would not think or make decisions like a human does.”
“Well, are you human right now, then?” You wondered and that finally got the droid to shut up. “Because you sure sound like one right now despite insisting that you are a droid.”
“Can’t a droid be both?” Jongho frowned and your eyes twitched in response- you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You searched his face for any signs of recognition but found none.
“I guess that’s why it has to be a human that gets turned into a machine,” you concluded. “A machine wouldn’t have asked me that question.”
Jongho didn’t react to that. He simply finished his meal and waited for you to finish before he cleared the table. You made yourself that cup of tea and looked over your code from today, wondering how you were going to proceed from here. If you were really being watched right now, you somehow needed to let Jongho know that he should not react when he recognises you. How were you going to pull that? 
It was near impossible. And with that thought, you went to your room to prepare for the worst.
You were trapped in a town that wasn’t yours. Just like everyone else here, you had magically woken up in your new house, in your new room and had simply been instructed to follow the orders if you wanted to live- no further explanation. What you had gathered so far though was this whole thing had been planned since decades. The New Government- the group of people from all over the world who were the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project aimed to create an army of droids and then distribute them among the powerful nations so they could have the ultimate leverage over the less powerful nations and make them submit to them. 
It was evil, it was twisted, and when you first began programming for robots instead of droids that were actually humans, you never would have thought that this was what it was going to come to. You worked with your friends Yunho and Wooyoung- an inseparable trio. As soon as your team sensed something darker, you all decided to leave and you cut ties with your family and friends, moving away without any explanation to attempt to make things right again. Your sister was the only one who had an inkling of what was going on and she had kept your parents calm but Jongho…
He didn’t deserve what you did to him, and now he was here. You were probably going to die by his hands. And maybe… maybe you deserved that.
You prayed your family was unconscious just like the common people who weren’t a part of this. Sometimes, you wondered if you had been fed a lie- sure, the world had progressed a lot but how could 99.9 percent of the world’s population be in a state of unconsciousness as they claimed? How was the world functioning? Machines could only handle so much especially if autorun, and droids couldn’t replace humans even if the world had progressed a lot in the past few decades. You were sure you had been brought to another piece of land and fed this lie so you would cooperate with them. 
Whatever it was, you had no choice but to obey. You were not allowed to question anything. And if you gave up on this project and they killed you, it wouldn’t make a difference because someone else would eventually figure out how to fix the droids. 
As you finished showering and sat down in front of the vanity, wrapped in your bathrobe to dry your hair, you wondered if this environment was created for the coders and programmers specifically so they could produce quick results. You felt like a lab rat and the fact that this might be true was making you nauseous. Just when you were about to settle down in bed, you heard the sound of a dull crash and you went to inspect- it looked like the sound came from the direction of Jongho’s room.
Sure enough, Jongho was picking himself up from the floor, brushing his clothes and when he looked at you, he flinched-
In pain.
You started tapping a single word on your thigh repeatedly, hoping he would understand it- just a simple ‘no’. No to whatever he was thinking, no to whatever he was about to do if he managed to get a few moments of clarity as a human. Jongho’s gaze fixed on your thigh and you asked him if everything was okay, continuing to tap that word.
“I heard a crash- did you trip or something? Are you having motor problems?”
“I…I don’t think so, I…” Jongho exhaled loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could rid him of the ache in his head. “Sorry for disturbing you.”
“Will you let me check if everything is good with you?”
“You can’t access my code here-”
“I actually can, I just haven’t been allowed to,” you told him. He must have known since he didn’t react much. Good, you thought. He was still CJ. “I’ll just have to override the security files… or we could head to the office. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”
“I think I’m fine,” he straightened. “You can check my code in the office in the morning, or right now- whatever you prefer, Miss.”
“Morning it is,” you shrugged, feeling defeated. “Goodnight-”
To your disbelief, Jongho was tapping something on his thigh as well. You did your best to appear nonchalant when he finished tapping a single command. 
“Goodnight, Miss,” he said in his usual flat tone before turning to go back to his room. You took a deep breath before going back to your room and sitting at the edge of the bed as you translated his message.
Help.
—------------------------
You were more suspicious of everyone around you including Jongho now- now more than ever, especially since you just came back to your office after presenting your monthly progress-
Which was little to none, if you had to admit. You did try talking in circles but it never worked in front of the panel.
“You’ve been here for 3 months now, Miss Jeon,” Dr. Seo closed your files detailing your progress and winced as if the lack of your progress physically hurt him. “I can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or if you no longer want to be a part of this. Because there’s no way you haven’t figured it out already.”
“I… I appreciate that you believe in me so much, I really do,” you met eyes with all of your seniors who had seen through every step of your journey especially in the beginning, when things were normal. “But I’m sorry to admit that I really don’t see a future with what we’re trying to achieve. You simply cannot turn a human into a droid and not expect some drawbacks- it’s humans we’re dealing with, not machines.”
“But it has worked brilliantly so far with your help and everyone else’s who has been a part of this team,” Dr. Jin, one of the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project said. “And I’m sorry but I expected more from you.”
“Has anyone else figured it out yet?” You asked.
“It’s not that we’re comparing you,” his smirk was almost devilish as if he knew exactly what you were hiding. “It’s because we believe you’re the only one who will figure this out. What is the one thing keeping humans from becoming almost the perfect version of droids?”
“Their human nature,” you said.
“What part of it?” He shifted in his chair and you wiped your sweaty hands on your trousers. “Emotions? But you synced them. Is there a fault there, or is it something we haven’t even considered yet?”
You fell silent. They were definitely on to something. 
“Should we have a meeting with the other brilliant coders of this project?” Dr. Seo attempted to break the tension in the air. “Maybe what all our coders need is to interact with each other and exchange ideas.”
You suddenly felt hope- you did consider the possibility that Yunho and Wooyoung were also here, forced to work just like you. If you could just meet them, if you could just see them-
“You know why we haven’t allowed them to meet,” Dr. Jin reprimanded. “I can only allow healthy discussions within the designated teams. Miss Jeon, if you need some help, we will accommodate you as best as we can, but I will have to ask you to be quicker with this. We do not have much time and if we do not come up with a solution first, if another nation beats us to it, we will lose our advantage. Don’t you want to go back home and be with your family?”
And that was it. The last straw. 
You were aware that this was some sort of a race now. Whoever would figure out what was wrong with the droids would have the advantage- they could keep it from other nations. They could use that as a leverage because they would be the ones with an army of droids at their disposal. Droids that could make excellent spies, fighters, doctors, and whatnot. Droids that would be weapons for all the powerful and selfish leaders of this world, to use at their disposal when they terrorise the weaker nations into submission. Sure, this was nothing new- the world was always at war with each other but with droids in the question, it could go very wrong. 
And the fact that they were using your family to bait you? The fact that most of the people here had something to lose if they refused to cooperate? How could you undo all of this? Every day, you cursed yourself for ever being a part of this project, for ever giving them the idea that led to this day, yet beating yourself over it would achieve nothing. You had to take action, soon. You couldn’t let them know that you had the answer already. 
You had to wake Jongho up.
“Everything alright?” Mr. Han asked, having spotted you zoning out in the corner of the office next to the window, glancing at Jongho’s unconscious figure attached to the cords- you hadn’t paid much attention to him today. He approached you and opened a box, revealing an assortment of donuts. You smiled despite yourself, picking a glazed donut.
“I just came back from the monthly report presentation,” you told him and he hummed in understanding. “How did yours go?”
“They reminded me why we’re doing this,” he rolled his eyes and you scoffed. “As if I’ve forgotten.”
“Do you think we can figure it out before someone else does?” You asked casually and he looked at you for a few moments.
“It’s not that I have an insurmountable amount of belief in you,” he began and you relaxed. “You’re only human too, and it’s been tough to be away from what was normal, right?” You nodded and he continued. “But I really do think that you can do this. You just need some time. Should I ask them to allow you to work from home too?”
“I don’t think they will agree, but I appreciate it,” you smiled. “They’re doubtful for the right reasons too, after all.”
Mr. Han shrugged and gave you the box, asking you to share it with CJ when he woke up. “He must be having a hard time.”
“Don’t let the superiors hear that you’re empathising with a droid,” you whispered and he winked at you before he went to his station. You went to yours, hoping the office hours could quickly come to an end before you could unplug Jongho. But…
You needed to access all his code files. “Mr. Han?” 
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I could be granted access to all the code files of this droid? Even if it’s just a preview? I think I should check if some other code is interfering with my code files.”
“Should I make a call?”
“If you can?” You asked and he nodded. You went back to pretending you were actually working and Mr. Han told you that you would know your answer in the morning. 
You hoped they would agree, especially after today’s meeting. If they really thought that you’re the one who should debug the droids, maybe they needed to start trusting you more and stop hiding things.
And when you gain their trust and figure out how to save Jongho…
That’s when you would have to make a decision.
—-------------------------
You were not sure exactly what part of you sitting casually in the living room, watching TV with the smell of your favourite tea filling the room, a donut in your hand, rocked Jongho’s human memory but you watched him faint in front of your eyes and your jaw fell open in shock. You remained still as your own memory flashed in front of your eyes-
“Oh, what a sight,” Jongho shook his head as he entered his living room, finding you already having made home on his couch- a towel on your head and donut in your hand as you watched the TV while you waited for him to come back from the convenience store. Jongho put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I found your teabags.”
“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you gave him a look of gratitude before turning your attention to the drama. “I would have gone myself but you know how tired I feel after showering- it’s like a sign that my day is over and I should just relax.”
“Yeah, and how convenient for you that your boyfriend is willing to do anything for you, huh?”
“Of course,” you muttered absently, eyes widening at the turn of events playing in the drama. Jongho turned on the kettle and sneaked behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek that caught you by surprise and you looked at him as a smile made its way on your lips. 
“What was that for?”
“For being cute?” He booped your nose before going back to the kitchen and pouring the hot water in the cup. You weren’t interested in the drama anymore- you turned your full attention to him. He hummed an unfamiliar song before bringing the cups to you. 
“Did you leave some donuts for me or are they already long gone?”
“Of course I did,” you pouted. “Kept your favourite ones.”
“Good,” he slung his arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, making him laugh when your towel bumped with his face. You spent the next few minutes wrestling him as he tried to get the towel out of the way while you argued that on one condition- that he dry your hair for you. Jongho pouted in response, nothing going his way and you pecked his lips to make amends, handing him his favourite donut and he could only smile in defeat. 
You poked the droid’s thigh with your bare feet- he really was unconscious. You sucked in an annoyed breath- how you wished there were no surveillance cameras in your living room. You moved Jongho’s limbs so he was in a more comfortable position and went back to what you were doing.
Sure, you couldn't do anything about this right now but you sure hoped that whoever was going to give you the pass for accessing Jongho’s code files in your home would see this moment and make his decision afterwards. For now, you finished your donut and tea and as soon as Jongho moved, you sat down on the floor next to him and began tapping on his thigh.
Don’t.
One single word, but perhaps Jongho’s mind was too hazy- his eyes widened in recognition and you subtly shook your head no but it wasn’t enough-
“What are you-”
“Ah, good thing you’re back,” you attempted to sound normal but perhaps your unusually high pitch betrayed you. “What do you think? I should be allowed to access your code files at home now, no?”
It wasn’t CJ- it was Jongho looking at you in confusion, and you were so glad your legs blocked the sight of Jongho linking his hand with yours and squeezing it in confusion, in desperation. You squeezed them back to assure him that you knew, that you could hear him even when he couldn’t speak. That you understood him even when he was not himself. 
“Do you recall what you felt right before fainting?” You asked.
“Uh… confusion. Haziness.”
“All normal- are you feeling alright now? We can call for permission to access your code if you think it’s necessary right now, CJ.” 
“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered and he shut his eyes as if in pain. You immediately unlinked your hands and when he opened his eyes, the blue lens in his left eye flickered-
CJ was back.
The droid immediately started getting up and you followed, straightening your clothes awkwardly. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Would you like a donut?”
His brows furrowed in confusion and you went back to your seat, sliding the box towards him. When he opened it they were all half eaten- neatly cut in the middle.
“Sorry. I really had to taste all of the flavours. Kept a whole one for you, though. You might like it.”
You pointed at the chocolate-dipped donut and internally cursed yourself for asking him to join you for donuts. You had kept them to rock his memory but considering the events of today, you didn’t need to do that anyway. He stared at that donut for a long time before he finally picked it up to eat.
And you knew then- whatever happened tonight was enough. Whatever went through Jongho’s head tonight was enough- you didn’t have much time. You needed to save him before the human in him gets lost forever. With that thought, you went to your room.
To prepare for the battle ahead. One that might cost a lot of lives. One that was necessary to fight, to undo the damage you had done to this world.
—--------------------------
“Miss Jeon, I would advise you to drop your gun and talk it out,” Mr. Han’s fatherly tone almost made you put the gun you had been aiming at his direction down on the nearest surface and follow his orders- talk it out.
Except there was nothing to talk about anymore. Everything had gone so very wrong, so very quickly.
“And risk an arrest? Or worse? I’d rather not,” you attempted to scoff but it came out more like a whimper.
“Come on- what did you hear?” Mr. Han never moved the gun aimed for your head- good thing you were both stationed at opposite ends of the room. 
“Oh? Should I have heard something then?” You cocked your head. “What I saw was enough.”
What you saw was the file on his desk regarding the self-destruct code installed in the droids that were assigned to different coders- including Jongho. You weren’t sure if it was a careless mistake or if he left it out on purpose for you to see- maybe it was a mistake since you rarely ever went to his part of the office. But your suspicions were confirmed- they had indeed installed some self-destruct files in Jongho in case someone tried to meddle with his code. So with that anger- with that boiling, seething anger, when you went to find Mr. Han and confront him, you spotted him in the next building through the window talking to none other than Dr. Jin.
You couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was planned. Anger consumed you and within minutes, you were back in your office overriding Jongho’s code files and putting him to sleep and then hacking your building’s system to turn off the CCTVs- just like you had practised so many times in the past few days. They may have the best coders and programmers in this building and you probably had seconds, but…
They had forgotten that you were the pioneer of this damned project. You were what they were against, and you had to surprise them again, just like the first time you did when you were still a stupid teen who thought they did something smart. You attached a USB in the main PC with an auto-run file to keep the system glitching while you unplugged Jongho and hastily put his shirt back on his unconscious body. 
You had a couple of minutes at most- you went to Mr. Han’s desk and grabbed all the files you could and stuffed them in your briefcase, taking out the gun you had slipped past the detectors a few days ago during a system crash episode- pure luck. The gun had been in your car for a while but as soon as you saw the chance, you slipped it into your office, not knowing you’d need it this soon. You weren’t surprised to see that Mr. Han kept a gun of his own- you were simply disappointed.
The lights flickered on and off and you figured the technicians must be having a tough time figuring out exactly what was wrong. You could hear your shallow breaths as you shifted your grip on the gun, the sweat from your palms making it feel slippery. 
“If you think you know what’s happening here, you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Mr. Han shook his head. “I’ve been following orders just like you. I can’t believe you’re being this reckless when you too must have a family waiting for you. Someone they use as leverage against you.”
“Almost everyone is here against their will,” you corrected him. “You’re no different than the rest of them. So go ahead. Go ahead and shoot me, but if you do, you’ll lose everything and everyone you love. Eden cannot debug droids without me- I’m sure of it.”
“I never intended to shoot you,” he sighed, lowering his gun and you frowned. “If we’re not being watched right now… we don’t need to do this.”
“Aim your gun at me either way,” you told him and he obeyed. “Did you know that CJ was going to be assigned to me?”
“I knew a droid was going to be assigned to you, but not the specifics. Is there a problem with CJ?”
“A problem?” You scoffed. “Imagine you were in my shoes and it was your wife that was assigned to you as the droid you needed to fix. How would you feel?”
When Mr. Han paled visibly, you realised he may not have known CJ’s identity after all. “CJ… is he someone you know?”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know everything, y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m only following orders and supervising you- though you hardly need that.”
“He’s the person I tried to protect all these years,” you bit your lips as you looked at Jongho’s limp figure on the stretcher. “Can you imagine how I’ve been feeling all along? I have to turn him into a droid or else he’ll be killed.”
“I’m sorry, I really am, y/n,” Mr. Han lowered his gun. “Damned be the consequences. What do you plan to do?”
“I’m going to run away,” you told him, lowering your own gun. “With CJ. He won’t self-destruct for now, I’ve taken care of it.”
“They’ll find you,” Mr. Han said. “There’s no way you can be on the road and not be found. The car must have a tracking device.”
“I took care of that too- all it will take is a click. As for them spotting me… I think I know how to take care of that as well…”
“Of course you do,” Mr. Han laughed in disbelief. “Tell me… you know how to fix the droids, don’t you?”
When you didn’t respond, he nodded. “Tell you what- you can do whatever you want from here, but never, ever fix the droids, okay? You hear me?”
You passed a weak smile in response and he finally approached you, emptying his gun and handing you the extra bullets. “I won’t need them.”
“They’ll punish you for letting me go.”
“You can knock me out- I’ll play dumb for as long as I can,” he grinned. “Besides, I don’t think the cameras caught me entering the office.”
“Can you help me get Jongho in the car first?”
Which was how a few minutes later, you found yourself on the road, a jamming device fixed on the dashboard to make the surveillance cameras glitch whenever you would pass. You sped through the unfamiliar roads but you knew you would need to ditch your car soon- there was no way you could blend in when this was a black SUV with the office plate. You looked around the billboards and the street signs for any clue of your location but they were all blank or painted over. The only guide you had was the map in the car but that turned off as soon as you strayed away from your usual path.
You considered waking Jongho up and asking for help but there was no guarantee he wasn’t going to try something that would cost you both a lot. You decided to keep going forward and look for an abandoned building- it was getting dark and you needed to sort this mess out before you could proceed forward. Sure, you had prepared beforehand- you had everything you needed in the trunk of your car, discreetly putting necessities in the bag day after day since the beginning. From tools to clothes to food, you had everything.
Now you just needed to take care of Jongho- currently sprawled across the backseat, his hands fastened with a cable tie. You had no doubts he could still overpower you but for now, you had to make do with what you had. So when you spotted an empty area of the town with a few warehouses, you decided to take a chance and make home in one of them. You parked your car in the narrow space between two warehouses, deciding to hide it later with the empty tubs lined next to the walls. You searched the car for a physical tracking device and when you found it, you crushed it under your feet- you needed to take the jamming device inside with you so this was necessary. Then you turned off the infotainment system for good and finally sighed in relief.
You had done it- you finally ran away.
Just like you had run away from home two years ago.
You looked at Jongho from the front mirror and recalled the last day you had spent with him and your family- a memory you had kept in your heart as the days following got lonelier and regretful-
“Wonder what’s gotten into her,” your sister, Cookie, whispered to Jongho. “Did you propose to her? Is she showing off her housewife skills? Which are little to none, by the way…”
“Please,” Jongho scoffed. “I think she’s just collectively going to poison us all. She’s still sour about how we ditched her to go hiking last weekend, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, well that would make more sense,” Cookie said. “But it was her fault- I asked but she was too busy with her little codes to process what I said and told me to get out. That’s a no, right?”
“Definitely-”
“I can hear you both, you know,” you said, looking at the two. While at other times, you would have chucked something at them and ensued chaos, this time, you simply smiled at the sigh of your little sister and your boyfriend standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched you arrange everything you had cooked (or bought- they didn’t need to know that) on the trays. When you were finally pleased with the presentation, you asked them to help you take the trays out to the backyard where you were going to have a little party- all of you.
The two obeyed and marched outside singing another song that you didn’t know- Jongho and your sister got along way too well and were usually partnering against you. He probably adored her more than you but your sister was smart and knew she had to be on good terms with him so he could spoil her- and spoil he did. 
Your heart ached at the sight of the two and you prayed they would stay like this forever- happy. Even without you. You hoped they could fill your absence in the house and make your parents feel better.
Jongho’s parents cheered for you when you came out. “This is something your sister usually plans but we’re glad you’re not holed up in your room for once.”
“Thanks, uncle,” you laughed. “Just wanted a little breather.”
“You should have joined us last weekend!” His mom sighed in happiness. “The view was so good and the air so fresh. I think I feel younger ever since I came back.”
“I thought you felt older- you were complaining about your kneecaps- ow!” Jongho earned a smack on the back of his head from you and everyone laughed at that. Your mom patted the space next to her and you took the seat, urging her to try the sandwiches you made. The air filled with the sound of their laughs and you felt warm all over as you looked at each one of them, not saying much but committing this memory to your heart. 
You went to take a walk with Jongho later that night to share a beer and go to the park to sit on the swings and relax. Jongho asked you if everything was okay- he never missed anything.
“Perfectly fine,” you assured him. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today.”
“Me neither,” he smiled and you clicked your cans before drinking. “You’re a bit different today, y/n. If something is bothering you… you can tell me, you know that, right?”
“I know. I trust you, Jongho,” you looked at him. “You know that you’re the one person I trust the most in this world, right?”
Jongho frowned at the sudden confession but nodded. You continued. “And you know that I love you, right?”
Jongho would have gotten flustered and teased you but tonight, he noticed the sadness in your voice. “What is up with you? What are you planning?”
“Nothing,” you laughed. “Just wanted to tell you this before the night is over.”
Jongho narrowed his eyes but when you didn’t give in, he sighed. 
“I don’t know what the matter is, but I hope you know that I trust you too. And I love you too. You’re not alone. You know that, right?”
“I know,” your smile was genuine. “I know.”
And the fact that you were not alone was what needed to change. In the middle of the night, you packed your necessities and left the note for your sister in her room by her bedside which said that you ran away to protect them and you would return soon, but no one could know. You told her to stay strong for you and help the rest cope. You apologised for the burden you gave her but she knew- she had seen you cry in your room for so many nights. She knew you had done something and the guilt was eating you up. She knew it was related to your job.
You prayed Jongho would remember the conversation you had with him and not blame himself.
Perhaps, he did blame himself. Perhaps he never gave up trying to find you, which was how they found him. Maybe running away wasn’t the best choice since they found Jongho anyway- your eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the lost time, the years you could have spent with your family. Maybe you would never see them again now. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a blurry vision, you surveyed the area and deciding that it looked safe enough for now, you dragged Jongho inside and propped him on a bench, coughing due to the dust. You took off his shirt again and plugged him to your laptop- there were some things you needed to get done immediately- check if you were being tracked, check if Jongho’s trackers were all blocked now, see if there were any signals nearby- droids or not, and finally-
Find out your coordinates.
—-----------------------------
“We are not in the office.”
“Clearly,” you muttered, hugging yourself tighter with your folded arms as you looked at the droid seated in front of you, unbound this time. The droid scanned the new environment, his eyes lingering at the odd things in front of him- especially at the cord and your laptop, your bags and the packets of snacks sprawled on the table between you.
“This is unauthorised,” Jongho stated. 
“Yes,” you admitted. “What are you programmed to do in case you find yourself in a situation like this?”
“Find my way back. If I cannot, I will have to activate the self-destruct code.”
“Going to be quite an explosion, huh?” You sighed.
“It will be very dangerous for you, yes,” he looked down at his limbs. Was he surprised that he was untied for once? “Why are we here?”
“Are you programmed to find out the reason for your unauthorised absence before you make a decision?”
He wasn’t. You got that from the red flicker in his usually blue lens in the left eye. This was the humane curiosity in him questioning things a droid shouldn’t have cared about. You shifted in your position- you hadn’t really planned this conversation so you would have to tread carefully from here on.
“Jongho,” you locked eyes with him. “What is the next step that you are going to take?”
“I can’t access the server,” Jongho frowned. “My code has been altered.”
“You didn’t ask how I know your name,” you whispered. “Choi Jongho. Don’t you remember me?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” an unrelenting answer from a droid.
“Are you programmed to self-destruct if your identity is found out?” You asked. He shook his head no. “Interesting. That can only mean they sent you to me knowing we had history. Do you remember the last time you saw me?”
“In the office-”
“No, you, Choi Jongho. Not CJ. You,” you insisted and he finally frowned- it was working. “How did you feel to learn that I ran away?”
“I… don’t know.”
“You know,” you told him. “Your memories are just locked away. Deep inside, here,” you tapped your temple. “All you gotta do is dig in and think. Remember when you, CJ, saw me with the donuts? Did it rock a memory of yours?”
When he didn’t respond and continued to stare at you, his lens flickering, you leaned forward. “How did you know how I like my tea?”
That was another odd thing that took place a few days ago. No one could make your tea the way you liked it. Only Jongho knew, and only he could make it perfectly every time. Sometimes you wondered if you simply liked the drink he made because he was the one who made it. 
“I don’t know. I just made it how I learned to-”
“Learned from where?” You asked. “From me. We learned to make it together, Jongho. Two dips, let it sit, add exactly 1/4th spoon of honey and dip thrice. Don’t mix it, let it sit for exactly two minutes before you take the teabag out and mix the honey. How did you know? It’s your muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.”
Jongho’s eyes widened just a fraction and you relaxed. You had him now. “We’ve been so close to home all this time, Jongho. I found out where we are- only a few hundred miles away from home, an abandoned town. I thought we were someplace else entirely. I thought only we were the ones awake and the rest of the world was asleep- surely they would have searched for you if not for me, right?” 
He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing. You sighed. “How did they find you, Jongho? Did they find you… or did you find them?”
“Y/n.”
Even though your name was called in warning, your lips parted in surprise because this wasn’t CJ- this was Jongho who called your name. And goodness, how long had it been since the last time you heard your name roll from his lips? How long had you waited for this moment?
You shifted to get up but he raised a hand in the air, muttering ‘don’t’ and you sat right back down. His eyes twitched in pain and he groaned deeply. “You need to get out of here- leave me here and run.”
“Jongho-”
“You haven’t deactivated any trackers- they know you’re here, they meant for this to happen-”
“What are you talking about?” You whispered, blood rushing to your head and making your vision darken for a moment. 
“They even know what we’re talking about right now,” Jongho cried out and you put a hand on your mouth in sheer horror, sweat taking root in every pore of your body. 
Muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.
Oh, how absolutely foolish you had been. Jongho got up and whispered, “They’re near.”
You mirrored his actions but almost fell on the floor due to the dizziness- everything was too much. This is not happening. Nothing made sense anymore- you had deactivated every tracker- how could they have found you-
There was a tracker on you.
How could you have been so incredibly stupid?
Jongho reached you in a hurry, the lens no longer a blue or red but simply transparent, revealing his brown orbs as he grabbed you by the arms and shook you a little. “Come to your senses, y/n. You have to get out of here- I don’t know what they’ll do with us. I’ll stay back and distract them-”
“No,” you cried, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. “I’ve run away once. I won’t run away again.”
“This is not running away,” he smiled a little as if it finally dawned on him that he was here so close to you, he was human and he had you in his arms. His hands were steady as they found your face, tucking your hair behind so lovingly, eyes travelling on every inch of your face.
“Don’t you look at me like it’s the last time,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me, Jongho.”
But perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. You heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles- not one but too many vehicles circling the warehouse. Jongho sighed in defeat yet from the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, it seemed like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. He cupped your face and leaned in, locking his lips with yours and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally found a reason to. He kissed you surely and soundly, breaking apart to wrap his arms around you, his fingers on your back tapping rhythmically-
Morse code.
“What-”
“Shh,” he urged, tapping again. “Everything will be okay. Don’t forget this moment, alright?”
You nodded and buried your face in his chest- your safe space. “Have you forgiven me for running away?” You asked as the sound of the door being slammed open echoed in the warehouse- so loud yet the sound of his dull heartbeat was louder.
“Oh, we will talk about that. One day,” he assured you. “But for now… I love you, y/n. I hope you remember that.”
“I hope you remember that I love you,” you countered, breaking away just to get a good look at his face, at his messy curls falling on his forehead, at the absolute adoration in his eyes replaced by devastation when the soldiers who came barging in pulled you from him harshly and the last thing you saw was him screaming your name before you felt something slam against your head and the roaring in your ears finally came to a silence. You welcomed the darkness this time.
—-------------------------
“Y/n! Will you please wake up? I need to go to the convenience store and I need some company!”
“Go alone, Cookie” you groaned, “Let me sleep some more.”
“I’ll treat you to fried chicken.”
Now that was something worth opening an eye to take a good look at your little sister. Was she bribing you? Clearly. Was it working?
“Give me 15 minutes,” you said, getting up with a groan and she grinned. “I need to get ready.”
“It’s almost evening so take a jacket, you’ve been out cold for far too long. Thought I’d let you know the day has ended!” Cookie called as she left your room. 
Perhaps, getting up immediately was a mistake- it seemed like all the blood rushed down from your head and you fell back on your bed unceremoniously. You groaned in pain- why were you having the worst headache of your life?
When you felt stable enough to move, you made your way to the toilet and washed your face, noticing a fading bruise on your left temple. Now how did you get that? You reached for your toothbrush-
It was not there. Odd. You did not remember throwing it away- if you did, where was the replacement? Groggily, you made your way back to your room to check the cupboard where you kept your supplies and found no signs of a toothbrush.
“Cookie, what prank are you playing with me now?”
“What do you mean?” She called from her room.
“Where did you hide my toothbrush?”
“Why would I hide your toothbrush?”
“To prank me?” You yelled in frustration. “I won’t go to the store with you if you keep this up.”
You heard the angry pads of her footsteps. “Look, that prank was one time. You were so mad I wouldn’t try it again.”
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “The smirk on your lips says otherwise.”
“That’s just me finding this funny,” she flipped her hair dramatically as she went back to her room and you sighed deeply, the voice of your mom calling your names in warning stirring something deep inside you.
I will not cry over a missing toothbrush, you told yourself and got ready, wearing a denim jacket over a casual outfit. You went into the living room to drink some water and when you turned-
You almost dropped your glass.
“Can you pour me a little too?” Your mom asked and you found your mouth going dry, nodding subconsciously as you reached for another glass. You watched her drink- why did it look like she had aged a whole lot since you last saw her? Didn’t you just see her last night? Didn’t you spot the grey in her hair, the wrinkles around her eyes ever before?
Or maybe you always saw her but never cared to look. Your mom made a face at you, making you laugh a little as you broke out of your trance. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” you shook your head. “I was just counting your grey hairs.”
“Y/n,” she laughed loudly. “I think this is my sign to book a salon appointment.”
“Yes, mother!” Cookie came in, squeezing her shoulders. “You should get your grey strands dyed a fun colour- like pink.”
“Oh, come on, what will your dad think?”
“I think he’ll like it,” she winked. “We’re going out- be back before curfew!” Cookie grabbed your hand and dragged you out before your mom could say her usual chant- stay safe, don’t do stupid things, don’t fight, and so on. It seemed like forever since you had heard that and a part of you wished you had stayed to hear it.
Before you knew it, you were deep in a heated discussion about school being fun versus school being a bad memory. Of course, for Cookie, everything was fun. It was kind of endearing how she always saw the positive in everything and made sure to enjoy every moment. You, however, were the pessimistic of the two, though you preferred the term ‘realist’. School did have fun moments, yes, but you didn’t have a normal school experience at all- you were always working with the teachers and seniors who could code. While that was the beginning of your career, you didn’t get to interact with people much and they didn’t make an effort when you had some normal moments.
It was a relief then that Jongho was in your class and never made you feel alone, you wondered as you finished the argument with your sister and the food. She was paying the bill- a rare occurrence because ever since you started working at a very young age, you made sure to spoil her (a mistake- the brat learned that she could convince you to get her anything). Cookie turned to smirk in some sense of superiority she felt for having treated you and you let her have that moment, chuckling as you exited.
“Ah, the weather’s nice,” you looked up at the sky- it was too cloudy to see any stars. “I’m craving beer. When will you get old enough for beer?”
“Just a few more months, sis. We’ll see who’s the better drinker out of us.”
“Yeah, I might be bad, but you can’t beat Jong-”
“Oh, would you look at that,” Cookie pointed at a cafe at the end of the street. “I heard they’ve added cookies to their menu. Let’s get some to take home.”
You rolled your eyes. There was a reason you called her Cookie. Before you could protest, she was already speed-walking, her short hair flowing behind her and you struggled to catch up, looking at your surroundings. 
“Yo, wasn’t there a barbeque place here?”
Cookie paused to look at you. “That was like what- two? Three years ago? You should really leave the house more. Being cooped up in your room all day is doing something to your memory, I swear-”
“It’s not that,” you, for once, didn’t argue, telling her to get some for dad too while you decided to wait outside. 
Why did everything feel so… new? Tangible? You looked at your hand, moving it- were you dissociating? Was it that strange realisation that you were real? But it didn’t explain the ache in your heart since the moment you opened your eyes today. And you were glad Cookie was lost in her own thoughts on the short walk back home, giving you time to think. Just like always, you made a tray with cookies and milk and knocked on your parents’ room, entering when they gave the signal.
“Oh, dear,” your dad sighed in happiness. “Just what I wanted.”
“Long day?” You asked, grinning when they took the tray and placed it on the bed.
“Not really, but was just craving something sweet,” he smiled and you scanned his face- again, the sadness in his eyes was something unfamiliar to you.
“Well, enjoy your cookies. My Cookie is waiting for me outside.”
“Always attached at the hip,” your mom shook her head. “I don’t know how they do that when she’s home all day and the little one is rarely ever home.”
You scoffed when they continued that discussion, exiting the room to see Cookie smiling cheekily with the box of cookies open and one glass of milk-
“Cookie.”
“I don’t like milk!” She protested. “You drink milk. I only dip- why do I need a new glass?”
“I don’t like to dip cookies in the milk!” You argued, sitting across from her. “I don’t like the crumbs you leave!”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” She pouted. “You won’t drink the leftover milk if I get my own glass?”
“Nope,” you shook your head sternly. “Want me to call Jongho over? He can share with you.”
“And who’s Jongho?” Cookie frowned.
“Oh, please,” you took a bite of the chocolatey goodness. “As if this prank is gonna work on me.”
“No, but seriously, who’s Jongho?” Cookie wriggled her brows. “New imaginary boyfriend?”
“Imaginary?”
“Yes, imaginary. How would you find a boyfriend when you’re home alone- oh, is Jongho a bot?”
You rolled your eyes so hard that you felt an ache. You unlocked your phone to dial his number but found no contact saved. Frowning, you typed his number- did you accidentally delete his contact info? 
“This number does not exist.”
“Strange,” you muttered. “Did Jongho change his number? Did you know about this and decided to prank me because of this?”
“Aren’t you the one pranking me right now?” Cookie actually paused to stare at you. “Who’s Jongho?”
“Choi Jongho? The neighbour kid? Your best friend? Your big brother? My boyfriend? Do I need to say more?” You laughed in disbelief. “Don’t push my buttons by taking it too far.”
“Y/n, are you… are you okay? We don’t know anyone named Jongho. And what do you mean the neighbour’s kid? They never had one- they moved two years ago, don’t you remember?”
Two years. You were hearing this number a lot today. You went to your room to grab a photo of Jongho and slam it on your sister’s face but the grid on your desk only had polaroids of you and your family- no signs of Jongho. Feeling the hair on your neck rise, you unlocked your phone again to find some photos but again, no signs of him. You started sprawling through your drawers, checking your laptops, the pockets of your clothes, your eyes a blurry mess and when you heard the small voice of your sister calling your name, you looked at her.
“Where did you hide the photos? Please tell me, I need to look at him-”
“Y/n, come to your senses,” she sank down on her knees in front of you. “Who are you talking about?”
You glared at her before snatching your hands and marching to her room- you examined the grid on her desk- again, no signs of Jongho. You went through the things on her desk, opening the drawers-
“What are you doing?” Cookie whimpered and you turned to see her crying as well. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with you, tell me.”
This couldn’t be happening. “It’s Jongho, don’t you remember? The one who taught you how to ride a bike? The one who protected you when you were being picked on in elementary school?” Tears rolled down in succession on both your faces- one trying to pick all the pieces that were threatening to disappear and the other trying to make sense of them. “Jongho, the one you called big brother? The milk to your cookie? The jelly to your peanut butter? Don’t you remember?”
“I- I don’t,” Cookie cried harder, sinking to the floor and breathing as if something was consuming her from the inside. 
“My Jongho, Cookie,” you whispered, gripping her desk. “The love of my life. You had a whole document on your computer about all your plans for our wedding- you made that when you were ten,” you laughed and Cookie chuckled as well, crying harder. “How can you forget?”
“I don’t know!” Cookie’s voice was loud in denial. “I don’t know him!” 
“Don’t you remember when I made food for all of you and you teased us about marriage and how I was preparing to be a housewife?” You laughed at the memory, Cookie’s ‘you made food?!’ indicating she was somehow more surprised to hear that. “We had that little party in the garden, his family and ours, remember?”
“That was-” Cookie paused, frowning. “I remember a party in the garden but… there were our neighbours there, yes, but not someone named Jongho- that was two years ago, right?”
Two years.
“Why did we have that party? Why did you make food?” Cookie looked at you, partly horrified as the dreadful realisation made its way to your mind.
“I… we had that party because I was going to run away. I… I ran away- how am I here?” You looked at your hands and then at Cookie. “How am I here?”
“Uh… this is your home?”
Home. You hadn’t stepped inside your home in two years.
It all started coming back to you in a series of chronological events- from that party to you running away from home and living in a studio apartment that Jeong Yunho had arranged for you. The two of you working to undo everything about that damned project that you could-
That damned project.
Droids.
“Oh… oh goodness-” you rushed to the toilet as a wave of nausea overtook you and threw up, groaning as you clutched your hair- Cookie was quick enough to help take care of your hair while you threw up some more, sobbing along. Your sister was also wise enough to shut the door and let you sob a little before urging you to get up and wash your face, helping you clean up. Once you were done and you had downed a glass of water, Cookie took you to her room and made you wrap a blanket around yourself- necessary at this point since you were shivering.
“You need to start making sense now. What’s happening?” 
You looked at your little sister. You hadn't seen her in two whole years, and she had grown so much in that time. She was also an inch taller than you now, you had noticed while walking. “Do you remember what we did yesterday?”
“Of course,” Cookie folded her arms. “You were in your room all day-”
“And the day before?” You asked. “And the day before that?”
Cookie’s brows finally unfurrowed in realisation. “I… I don’t remember.”
“Do you remember the note I gave you two years ago?” You asked. “The one that told you I was running away?” 
When it looked like she was still lost, you sighed deeply, looking around. “If I gave you a note that told you that I was going to run away but you could tell no one that I’m running away for a reason… that I’ll be back and you have to take care of everyone… where would you hide it, knowing you have to pretend you know nothing as well?”
“I don’t know,” Cookie sighed in frustration. “Why don’t I remember?”
“You’ll get your answers,” you got up, running your fingers along her bookshelf. “Where would you hide something like a secret note? Think, Cookie. They couldn’t have searched that deep, they couldn’t have found that.”
Cookie got up, looking around, and almost mechanically, she went for her underwear drawer and despite everything, you laughed. Of course. No one would dare rummage through her private things- but it got better. She had it taped on the inside of a bra.
“I don’t wear this one, so,” Cookie admitted and you shook your head, watching her open the note and read it again and again. “Make it make sense.”
“Where do I start?”
“From the beginning. Tell me everything.”
—------------------------------
Seeing a familiar face after riding a train all day was what finally gave you some strength to believe that things would be alright, and what finally put a smile on your face as you walked to your mentor, partner-in-crime (quite literally) and old friend, Jeong Yunho. When he spread his arms with a sad smile on his face, you didn’t hesitate to hug him, muttering how sorry you were to learn that he went through something quite similar to what you did.
“I’m just glad you’re safe, little one,” he broke the hug to look at you. “Are we sure there’s no tracker on you?”
“None- they put one on here,” you turned your arm to tap your shoulder blade. “Almost like a needle, Yunho. I would have missed it.”
“What did you do with it? If it’s stationary, they would know-”
“I put it on my sister,” you grinned. “And told her to act like me until I’m back.”
“Hoho, look at you,” he scoffed in amusement. “Finally told her everything?”
“Had to,” you sighed. “And this was the one step that I did not want to take, but she suggested that she could hold the tracker for me,” you handed one of your bags to Yunho who opened his car trunk and tossed it inside. When you were seated on his passenger seat, you asked, “How’s your brother?”
“Oh, all good. He forbade me to come back to the office after he saw the state I was in- broken limbs and everything. I don’t know how I managed to run away. Only a few months later and when I tell him you need me? He lends me his car with a threat that I better bring it back unscratched.”
“Damn,” you whistled. “Better keep that promise.”
“What about you, y/n?” He asked. 
“Do you remember how they took me? That part is still a bit blurry.”
“I thought they tailed me and found your apartment, but turns out you were just unlucky and they spotted you when you were going to Wooyoung’s place. They tailed you- I tailed them- it was a mess. Wooyoung and I barely managed to escape and when we opened our eyes, we were tied to chairs.”
“You were tied? Alone? Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “They should have tied my legs better- I walked around with the chair tied to me until I found someone and they helped us.”
“I can’t believe I missed that sight,” you exhaled in disappointment and he shook his head. 
“You should have seen yourself. I thought they killed you or something. What happened after?”
“Well… I woke up in a new world, Yunho. All futuristic with savvy tech and whatnot. It didn’t look like home. I was alone in a luxurious apartment that wasn’t mine, with a set of instructions to follow. Once I got to the office, I learned that all of us who were present had something to do with the Eden Droid Project- or something to contribute. There were coders, engineers, doctors, literally everyone they could find. We couldn’t ask questions, we weren’t allowed to talk other than for work, and we were watched like hawks. We were made to believe that only we were the ones awake while the rest of the world was on pause. Honestly, if there weren’t people like us there, it would have been so much more difficult.”
“Was there someone you knew there?”
“Dr. Seo. Dr. Jin. The big brains behind the Eden Droid Project- you remember them, right?”
“By faces, yes,” he asked you to hand his water bottle and drank a few sips while he drove on the highway. “So… what next?”
“My team- we were all tasked to work together to fix the droids. The droids that I programmed and the codes that Dr. Jin took forcefully from me when we were his interns.”
“He should have waited until we had perfected them,” Yunho scoffed and you mirrored that. 
“So it’s all starting to feel normal, a month passes. I realise I need to somehow run away and expose what they’re doing, but I have literally no idea what my location is and there’s no one to trust. And to make things worse, they have this brilliant idea to assign Jongho to me. They turned him into a droid, Yunho.”
“Oh… crap,” Yunho glanced at you. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips. “They decided that I needed to monitor a droid closely and figure out what was interfering with his droid mechanisms. They knew who he was and what he meant to me. They must have had a good laugh seeing me pretend I didn’t know him.
“Anyways, he’s not functioning properly as a droid- seeing me triggers him into remembering whatever memories they’ve locked away inside his brain. I can see that he’s suffering, yet I can do nothing about it, even when he tells me to help. I trust the first person who acted like he cared- Mr. Han, my team’s supervisor. He does help me escape but…”
“But it’s all a part of their plan.”
“Bingo,” you sighed. “I run away with his help, take Jongho far away from all of this, block every tracker and finally get Jongho to feel human long enough to speak- and he tells me what this- all of this was a part of their plan. This was like a simulation for me- I was a player in their game and they waited until I won- or thought so. That’s when they got their answer to the question- what was making droids not act like humans?”
“What?”
“The link between their subconscious brain and muscle memory, Yunho. That’s been the key this whole time.”
“Oh. Oh!” Yunho almost stopped his car in excitement. “How did we miss that?”
“There’s a reason they got Jongho to be a player too,” you shook your head. “Did you find any signs of him?”
“Not yet, but I will continue my search tonight,” Yunho said. “Why did they let you go, though?”
“I don’t know,” you sank down in your seat, hugging yourself. “I woke up back in my house and they made it look like I had been there all this time. But… strangely, only I remembered Jongho. They locked away everyone’s memories, wiped any physical signs of him- whatever they could find. Cookie forgot who Jongho was too- she still doesn’t remember but she believes me thanks to the note I gave her before I ran away two years ago.”
“If they knew where you lived during that span of two years, they would have made it look like you were there all along. That might have been more believable for you, and could have worked- but maybe not. Wooyoung and I would have found you anyway.”
“Does he still blame me for what happened two years ago?”
You, Wooyoung and Yunho were teammates in the initial days of the Eden Droid Project. You were their supervisor and leading the project, and Wooyoung always had qualms about what you all did- rightfully so. When everything went wrong, you had an argument and a falling out with him. Yunho tried for a long time to get you two to talk to each other but without success so he let you two be. You and Wooyoung did often share your files as you all were working to expose the project but that was it. 
“He’s forgiven you. He forgave you long ago- he was just being stubborn,” Yunho chuckled. “When he learned you were taken, he’s the one who tried the hardest to find you. Harder than me too.”
“God, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckled. “Do I get to meet him now?”
“Oh, yes,” Yunho grinned. “He’s waiting for you- party hat and all.”
“No way.”
He was. Party hat and all. You couldn’t believe how much he changed- his hair was longer, he looked more mature, but he still had those fierce eyes and lovely smile. He greeted you with a glare but as soon as your smile fell, he laughed and you finally joined, smacking the hat on his head before hugging him.
“I’m just glad to see you’re unscratched- oh, that looks painful.”
“Glad to see you’re in good spirits too,” you touched your temple- the bruise didn’t hurt anymore but it was an ugly shade of green now. “What did I miss?”
“What did we miss?” Wooyoung turned to get the tofu lying on the table.
“Yep- that certainly was no less than a prison,” you laughed, your stomach growling at the sight of the variety of food on the table. “Can we talk while we eat?”
And so, you briefed them of your ‘prison time’ again, connecting the dots with their help- they intended only to get you from the beginning because only you could have solved that mystery of why the droids acted so much like humans- the link between their subconscious memories and muscle memory was too strong. You could lock away a person’s memory, sure, but the subconscious was something you hadn’t messed with yet, and never intended to either. The reason the people of that project could manipulate memories was because of your team too.
When the three of you were interns in the Droid Project, they had told you to code for machines, not humans. That was how you began. Artificial intelligence was nothing new, you were just aiming to take it to the next level. When they told you that you needed to start coding to make droids, they talked about a better world- a world where soldiers could be able to fight better to defend their land. A world where a doctor could hold an insurmountable amount of knowledge and skills. A world where a patient wouldn’t have to feel all of the pain he would be in. A world where, they mused, you could cook anything you like for yourself without having to go through the trouble of thinking if you were capable. It wasn’t such a bad idea to code for that world.
But it was Wooyoung who accidentally heard what the real deal was. And when he told you both, you hacked into several databases to find out what they really intended to do with droids- and oh, the revelation was startling enough to make you all cry. You couldn’t believe that they used teens to make the blueprint for a world where the Elites- the people of power- would be controlling the droids to make the rest of the world submit to them. This world wasn’t their playground, and they shouldn’t play gods- with that message, the three of you ran away.
And now you were here with the consequences of your actions, with no idea if Jongho was okay. You couldn’t sleep for the past two days and when Wooyoung saw you zoning out in front of the fire in the backyard instead of being in bed, he decided to share a beer with you.
“You look like you have an idea but you’re worried how it will play out,” he observed.
“I mean…” you wrapped your shawl tighter around you. “It can’t get any worse, can it?”
“If they still think you’re back at your home, you might have a chance. They’ll be unsuspecting- we just need to hack into their system and get the Panel to listen.”
The Panel being a group of coders and developers who were, at one point, part of the Droid Project but left just like you. Yunho told you that ever since you were taken, they had been quick with contacting world leaders and giving them a sign that something dark was unravelling right under their noses. He didn’t tell you the identity of those people and you didn’t ask- you trusted him enough to take the right steps. He also told you that they were trying to find a way to get Eden’s military to side with them, but there was no guarantee that the military and the government weren’t already working together so if you made a mistake, you’d be doomed.
“We can’t simply sit and try to hack into their system, Wooyoung, while they have Jongho and several other people suffering with chips inside of them. I’ve seen their experimentations fail and lives lost. I cried myself to sleep everyday and the only reason I’m still sane is because I need to put an end to this as soon as possible-”
“Well, you’re not alone,” Wooyoung told you and you took a deep breath. “We’re here. We’re helping you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
“I do have one idea, but I’m not sure you will agree.”
“If it’s something stupid and you think we won’t agree? You’re probably right and I won’t hear a word about it-”
“About what?” Yunho came outside with his own can of beer. “Was gaming and going to sleep but I heard the chatter.”
“You really should touch the grass once in a while,” you teased. “You can’t spend all your free time in front of screens too.”
“Whatever,” he plopped down on a chair. “Continue, please. Don’t stop on my account.”
“Okay, listen,” you leaned forward, the orange hues of the fire illuminating your face as you spoke. “I need to go and get Jongho back- you both know I can’t simply sit and wait for our hacking attempts to be successful. If they could be hacked, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Right,” Yunho agreed.
“When they found Jongho and me, when we ran away, Jongho gave me a short message- two words. ‘Yunho’ and ‘Strictland’. Strictland must be the name of the town they’ve made home at. What do you know about Strictland?”
“Did he… did he tell you to find me and say Strictland?” Yunho frowned. “Are you sure?”
Wooyoung looked as lost as you and you told him you were sure. You watched Yunho’s expressions change from confusion to realisation. “Do you remember when we first found out about the Droid Project, I talked about how this couldn’t have been the first time that humans have tried to create droids?”
“Maybe?” You shrugged.
“I don’t remember, I don’t think so,” Wooyoung admitted.
“Well, the term ‘droid’ only originated recently. There have been other terms used to define the concept of a human machine- and since, at first, the only reason for such a creation would be to fight wars. So they were called super assassins, X-fighters, and a bunch of other stupid terms. Whenever I tried finding more about their history, I got blocked. I even got a few warnings. I thought it must be some confidential information- it would make sense if the general public doesn’t know that such attempts have been made. But… I did find something that suggested that they did succeed once.”
“They did?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. “Wasn’t this supposed to be the first time?”
“I wouldn’t know? They sure make me feel like I’m the one who came up with this. I know I’m not, but I didn’t think that far back into the past?”
“The current droids, you came up with that,” Yunho corrected. “But whatever version- or versions- existed before… there have been occurrences. One that began in Strictland a few decades ago but there’s no evidence. It is said that everything related to that project was burned, all the evidence erased. It was quite a disaster and they covered it up with a few bombs thrown to call it a ‘terrorist’ attack- the military got involved and there was a major clean-up or something. But the facts never matched, and those who dug enough know that the government has been hiding the real incident.”
“And how did Jongho know?”
“Maybe he heard things? He definitely did. And if he heard my name too… they might be coming after me next,” Yunho concluded.
“Well, that just means I have to proceed with my plan.”
“What plan exactly is that?”
You told them what you were thinking. There was a series of ‘no’ from Wooyoung, ‘absolutely not’ from Yunho, but you made them consider every other option and when the sun started to shine its first rays on the trees, you all agreed that this might be risky, yes, but this was probably the only way you could win.
Fight fire with fire.
—---------------------------------
“You must have finally gone insane.”
You lightly shrugged when you heard that- it was rich coming from Dr. Jin when he was the one who pushed you to this point.
“I mean… it’s been a while…” your finger circled the dramatic red button, itching to press it- Wooyoung’s idea. You told him it was stupid but when he insisted that nothing riles people up than seeing big red warnings, you let him craft this goodness. 
“What do you want, y/n? Why are you here?”
“I thought you’d know,” you finally stood up, brushing your clothes. “You still have something I can’t go back without.”
“Oh, that stupid droid? You came back for that?”
“That is a human very close to me, which you must have known when you decided to turn him into a droid,” you glared at him. “Don’t test my limits, Dr. Jin. You know how short a temper I have.”
And you had proven that in the span of the last few hours. Your genius plan had been to walk to their office in Strictland, which was relatively easy because all the soldiers recognised you and whenever they tried to move from their places, you told them the purpose of the device in your hand. Not a bomb, but better, you told them. You had one of the soldiers drive you to the office and then you sat down on the ground, waiting for Dr. Jin to show up.
In the meantime, you had a messy confrontation with Mr. Han. You told him you had not expected him to cooperate with any of this but he insisted that he was still following orders to keep his family safe. Though you despised him for making a fool out of you, not even giving you a hint of what was happening, you could understand his reasons. Your reasons were the same after all.
“He’s my family, and I would have you bring him to me right this instant.”
“Or what?”
“Or else I press this,” you raised the remote in your hand. “And it sets off a chain reaction. A droid self-destructs– for real this time, no games,” you looked pointedly at Mr. Han. “and if there’s a droid within a 2 mile radius of that droid, it self-destructs, and so on.”
“All we need to do is snatch it from you,” Dr. Jin scoffed.
“Well, unluckily for you, I’m the droid that will be setting off that chain reaction.”
A chorus of gasps sounded and your seniors- the one who had once been your mentors- all gaped at you. Dumbfounded. Confused.
“You wouldn’t,” it was Dr. Seo that spoke. Your first mentor.
“I would, and you know that,�� you extended your wrist showing a small opening where the chip was installed. “Do you remember this version of the droids, where you would still be more human than a machine? The one Dr. Jin was so quick to reject? Turns out it’s the better version- doesn’t require all the surgeries and whatnot.”
“That’s a bluff, isn’t it?” Dr. Jin scoffed. “You wouldn’t kill yourself over some droid.”
“Again, that droid is my family, and yes, I would kill myself if that means everyone here in Strictland dies and this cursed project comes to an end,” you glared at him. “To save humanity, a few lives sacrificed won’t be in vain- oh, and if you try to snatch this?” You waved the device in your hand. “This was just for the dramatics. It doesn’t work- I don’t need it to activate self-destruction.”
Dr. Jin’s nostrils flared in anger, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he tried to make a decision. “Any chance for negotiations? Because I won’t simply hand over Jongho to you- you couldn’t hack into him and deactivate his droid functions. We clearly have the upper hand.”
“You do,” you admitted. “And you can continue with whatever the fuck you’re doing in here, but I can do something for you and you can do something for me in return, right?”
“What do you suggest?” Dr. Seo spoke this time. “What can you give us?”
“What you clearly want. I know you haven’t found a way to solve that muscle memory problem yet.”
“But given more time, we could definitely do it,” Dr. Seo shifted on one leg, pushing his glasses up. “Why would we need you for that?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t do this without me- I’m the only programmer in Eden who can accomplish this,” your smirk was devilish. “You needed me when you began this project, and you clearly need me now. It’s a shame I didn’t cooperate, right? Maybe if you hadn’t used Jongho to rile me up, I would have actually solved the problem.”
“But you didn’t know what the problem was in the first place,” Dr. Seo said.
“I didn’t, but come on. I would have found out with any droid had I observed it as closely as I did Jongho. Now… I code to make the link between muscle memory and the subconscious dormant, and you uninstall the chip in Jongho and let me leave in peace. Do we have a deal?”
“What’s the guarantee you won’t try anything once you have Jongho?”
“None,” you admitted. “But if you trust me, I’ll trust you. For old time’s sake? And you know where my family lives anyway- I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.”
Dr. Jin and Dr. Seo looked at each other, whispering. Mr. Han looked like he wished he was beside you at that moment fighting with you, not fighting against you. You gulped down the anxiety bubbling in your throat- you had bluffed a whole lot just now but you needed them to buy it. Yes, you could self-destruct but there was no way you would simply just go back.
“Alright, I think we can work with that,” Dr. Seo came closer, extending his hand. “For old time’s sake.”
“You should apologise for playing dirty,” you shook his hand but he only scoffed in response. 
“You’ll have to follow some rules here. Protocol,” Dr. Seo explained and you cooperated this time, letting them scan your body for potential threats and then asking for access to your code. You let them see it- Dr. Seo had made this version with you so when he seemed satisfied save for the self-destruct file that you didn’t allow him to access, he decided to let it be for the moment.
“I have a condition too,” you told him. “I’ll work on uninstalling Jongho’s chip first. Once he’s human, I’ll play my part.”
“Okay- I’ll have a programmer work with you.”
Thus initiated the second part of your plan. You had successfully gained access inside their building and so far, their actions had been very predictable. Wooyoung was right about them asking to read your code too. The self-destruct wasn’t a bluff but you had hidden the real code elsewhere because you just knew Dr. Seo would attempt to replicate it if he got one look at it. You were pretty sure he had gone to note down what little he saw.
What he missed, though, while worrying about the new code was that you did not have one but two chips, side by side, inside your wrist. The other, a tiny thing, attached to the main chip. You finally pressed on your wrist to turn it on.
Surveillance through your eyes. The simplest, most basic droid function, installed in each droid as well as you. But you were reporting back to your server- to Yunho and Wooyoung, who were right at the outskirts of the town, who must have detected your signal by now and would be transmitting the live coverage to the Panel. The Panel, where different world leaders, scientists, human rights workers and other brilliant people were present, the group bigger than ever, waiting to see what you would show them.
And the first sight they saw- oh goodness. Rows and rows of humans strapped on to the stretchers lit by a light so bright that they looked blue. One of them was being brought to you- you were pretty sure your whimper was heard by everyone in the Panel.
Jongho did not look good. The signs of his struggle were quite visible on his bare upper body- a big, ugly bruise on the left side of his stomach, a long slash running down his right arm, a twin bruise like yours on his temple. You were never going to forgive these people. 
With newfound fierce determination, you nodded to the person you were to work with- a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with her stern face and slicked back hair. Without saying a word, Jongho was plugged to the screen and his code files secured with multiple passwords were accessed. Then the two of you started working side by side to end every running code in his chip. It must have taken only an hour and then you were done.
“We’ll take him to surgery. You can access whatever you need here while we take the chip out of him.”
“No thanks, I’ll take whatever laptop you have and work from there. He needs to be in front of my eyes.”
“I’ll get back to you,” she said and moved to a corner to convey your message. After getting confirmation, she allowed you to follow her to the medical section of the office. The lights started to dim the further you walked down the hallway, almost to the extent that you thought they were going to surprise you with something unexpected, but a turn to the right and you were suddenly in a familiar setting of a hospital. You were glad it looked normal- all the neon lights used in the offices had rooted some trauma in you for sure.
Unsurprisingly, the waiting room was equipped with all sorts of necessities you would need. The woman simply turned on the systems and plugged in the USBs before instructing you to wait for Dr. Seo. You rolled your eyes- nothing you could do about that, so you resorted to monitoring Jongho, trying to quell the seed of hope in your heart. 
Jongho would be okay. You would make sure of that.
The process of installing the chips in humans was something you had seen a lot- however, uninstalling the chip was rare. You tried not to recall the time when you first tried to save a person- it had backfired and induced a seizure. While you had worked with a lot of programmers to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen again, the people here kept insisting they didn’t need you to work on this because they thought there wouldn’t be a time when they would have to turn droids back into humans. But you were grateful that you and your team had been stubborn enough to at least make it a little better. 
Now it was up to Jongho and his willpower to make it out of there with full health. You weren’t sure what you would do if something happened to him.
While monitoring Jongho, you started working on the one problem that had doomed your life- the link between subconscious and muscle memory. You had Dr. Seo working with you from his office- it was no surprise that he was monitoring your progress and making contributions considering he was one of the brains behind this project and had a lot of medical knowledge to contribute from the years he worked as a neurosurgeon before he started learning programming. 
But since he was watching, that meant you had to do this properly- and you would. You understood that coming here to save Jongho meant you would have to share the knowledge that could change the power dynamics of this world. You could only pray that the Panel would make sure that these people would never get to put your theory into practice, because you couldn’t imagine a world where humans would be programmed to lose the very essence that made them human to fight for people that could only be called monsters. And you prayed your wildcard- getting the military involved- would work.
It had to be the longest three hours of your life. By the time Jongho was out of surgery, his vitals normal, you were almost done but your hands were trembling uncontrollably, your sniffs were getting louder as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to leave your body, because-
You did it. Jongho was okay, Jongho was okay. 
And you may have just doomed all of humanity with your code. You were pretty sure Dr. Seo might be testing your code on some unfortunate human right now. You should have gone with him- but you couldn’t leave Jongho. He needed to be in front of your eyes. You wished you had some means of contacting Yunho and Wooyoung right now- all they needed to do was tell you that you did well and you would be fine. But you didn’t have the means to hear their reassurance so you had to settle for the hope that the Panel was proceeding with the final part of the plan.
A military raid. Eden’s military against the New Government’s soldiers. Eden had never been so divided. 
A notification popped up on your laptop and Dr. Seo confirmed the validity of the code so far and asked you to wrap it up. You took a deep breath.
The last step. The final step you had to take in order to destroy the foundations of the Eden Droid Project, once and for all. 
You told him to give you a minute- you needed to check if Jongho was okay. With that excuse, you got up and went inside the ward to check on your unconscious friend. The surgery wasn’t anything big, no. It was just like removing a piece of shrapnel from your body, the chip relying on signals to send to the neurons. You just had to make sure that Jongho’s body hadn’t adapted to the chip’s presence so much that it couldn’t function without it anymore.
You wiped your face with your sleeves before clutching Jongho’s hand- you needed his strength, every bit of it. With your other hand, you combed his hair so it wouldn’t fall on his eyes. Jongho stirred in his sleep and you whispered his name. He subconsciously squeezed your hand before his eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t surprised- seeing you wake him up was nothing new, though it had been quite a while. He looked around to get his bearings-
“Oh, goodness, what are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too,” you laughed, wiping your eyes again. “How are you feeling? Can you move? Is your vision okay?”
“Never been better,” Jongho groaned as he sat up, exhaling. “I feel tired. That’s new.”
“That means you’re human,” you smiled.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re no longer a droid, Jongho,” you told him, for once pleased with your work. “You’re okay now.”
“But where are we?”
“Still there,” you let go of his hand to squeeze his shoulder, letting it trail down his bicep which was when you started tapping. “You’ll go home soon, I promise.”
“And you?” He asked, “Won’t you come too?”
“I’ll be right behind,” you kissed his forehead, having finished tapping your message on his skin. Jongho squeezed your hand in warning but you shook your head. “I have to wrap things up here, but I promise I’ll be home soon.”
“We go together, or we don’t go at all.”
“Jongho-”
“I won’t leave you behind, not this time,” he shook his head fiercely. “I know you’re strong. But we’ve always worked better together, haven’t we?”
“You’re still recovering though.”
Jongho called your name in warning and you caved in. You told him to make sure to follow your instructions and you made a request to Dr. Seo that you wanted to be there to witness the end of this. Dr. Seo sent an escort who accompanied the two of you to a lab where he was indeed working on an unfortunate young man just like you had suspected. Dr. Seo cast a wary look at Jongho before turning to you.
“You’ve worked brilliantly so far, Miss Jeon. Shall we begin?”
You nodded and asked Jongho to take a seat. You first went to check the man’s vitals, taking note of his label - CS, 005. “He’s one of the first few, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Dr. Seo confirmed, setting up your station. “A volunteer, though he didn’t quite know what he was getting into at that time.”
“Right,” you muttered, swallowing the distaste his words brought. “I’ll start now.”
Feeling sorry for the man who was about to lose the last shreds of humanity in him, perhaps forever, you started typing the codes, Dr. Seo watching from his screen across you. There were just a few lines of command left to type and you cast a quick glance at Jongho who passed a subtle nod. 
He was ready. And so were you. 
You had tapped a message to Jongho- Cookie’s play. A joke that ran in both your families of how Cookie would pretend to be sick whenever she wanted to have her way or skip school. And he was going to do just that. 
Jongho groaned loudly in pain, clutching his head, causing Dr. Seo to stop what he was doing and frown at him in confusion while you asked Jongho if everything was okay, your fingers typing a series of codes that were going to be your salvation now. Jongho fell on his knees and you, feigning panic, got up along with Dr. Seo who was genuinely worried for Jongho’s wellbeing since you had made sure that you weren’t going to give them anything if he wouldn’t make it out alive. You started walking across the room to where Jongho was, the droid CS on your way and you paused just a fraction of a second to slip your chip- the small chip they had missed during inspection- in the port on his back from where he was plugged to the system. 
You rushed to Jongho and asked him if he was okay- he continued to act like his head was going to burst open with pain and just when Dr. Seo took out his phone to call someone, Jongho pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and placing a hand over his mouth. You didn’t wait to see who would win as they started clawing at each other- you ran back to your station to your laptop, glancing once at Dr. Seo’s panicked face before pressing enter and enabling the ‘run’ function.
The guards outside must have heard some commotion and one of them peeked in to check but it was too late- thanks to Dr. Seo being impatient and sceptical, testing your code after every few minutes, it only took a handful of seconds for the code to stop running itself which was when the droid opened its eyes. Dr. Seo finally managed to land a punch on Jongho and get him to let go of him. He rushed towards you but before he could stop the guards, one of them yelled ‘freeze!’ and you raised your hands-
Unplugging the droid in the process.
“What have you done-” Dr. Seo reached for his screen to read the code, consumed by confusion and panic as he read the last lines which must be making no sense to him now-
Because the original code was also in that mini chip you had sneaked in. If this went well, you would owe Yunho your life- and Jongho’s.
“CS, 005, what’s your status?” You whispered just so the droid could hear. 
“Okay,” he confirmed.
“Then get up and protect us from the threat.”
You thought you saw the slightest hint of a smirk on the droid’s face and before you could ponder over it, he rose to full glory, straightening and cracking his neck before asking you to take cover. 
What you saw next was something you were sure you would never forget. There was no way this person wasn’t a skilled fighter before he became a droid because he dodged each bullet with expertise and kicked the gun out of the guard’s hand, catching it mid-air and pointing it at Dr. Seo, creeping towards him and holding him at gunpoint.
“Down on your knees, now,” he commanded and the guard obeyed instantly, backup arriving too late. Nothing they could do now- the Head Coder of this project could lose his life if someone made a wrong move.
“How,” Dr. Seo muttered when he spotted you from the corner of his eye. “I saw the code- there was nothing.”
“It’s just like what you did with Jongho and the other droids,” you finally let out the laugh you had been holding. “I am the master now, and my wish is his command. Isn’t that right, CS?”
He nodded in response and Jongho whistled, thoroughly impressed by you. You took out Dr. Seo’s phone from his pocket, unlocked it and called Dr. Jin.
“Is it done?”
“Uh, you might want to come here, Dr. Jin,” you said innocently. “We may have an emergency.”
You hung up before he could respond and Mr. Han came bursting into the room, freezing when he saw just what was going on.
“Uh, I was going to inform you that there’s been a military raid but it looks like it was planned…”
“Maybe,” you shrugged but you couldn’t keep in the sigh of relief- all hope was not lost after all. The military was on with you in this one- looks like the Panel had played their part well.
Mr. Han, to your surprise, was smiling in satisfaction. “Is it going to be over soon?”
“For you lot, yes,” you narrowed your eyes. “You don’t look too mad about it.”
“I’m not,” he smiled and you tried to figure out just what he was thinking but Dr. Jin appeared, fuming. The old man looked like he was going to have a stroke any second.
“Stand. Down.” He commanded. “Or you’ll face the worst consequences, Miss Jeon.”
“Like what?” You cocked your head. “I could have this droid blow your favourite coder’s brains out, right here. I don’t think it can get worse than that-”
Dr. Jin’s phone rang and when he frowned at his screen, you finally let the little ray of hope you had been harbouring in your heart consume you. Dr. Jin picked up the call and you watched all the blood drain from his face. 
“Ah… It can get worse,” you finally grinned, looking at Jongho who appeared a little lost but squeezed your hand in assurance anyway. “CS, you will continue to hold Dr. Seo as leverage until I give you the signal. Dr. Jin… I think it’s time you sit down and accept your defeat.”
Dr. Jin scoffed and attempted to leave the room but you shared one look with the droid and he knew what to do- with impeccable aim, he fired the gun in his direction, hitting right in the middle of his calf. His painful yell echoed throughout the vicinity and some of the guards pointed the gun in your direction instinctively while some rushed to help the man. You ignored Dr. Seo’s series of curses aimed at you amidst the chaos. Soon, a man in Eden’s staple blue military uniform walked in followed by a group of soldiers, ordering them to start arresting everyone in the building- and to your surprise, he nodded at you. CS finally let go of Dr. Seo only for him to be handcuffed and escorted outside.
“Thank you for coming,” you said as a greeting to Eden’s Military Commander- everyone in the room must have recognised him seeing how they were so willingly cooperating now. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”
“It took me quite some convincing to come, but seeing what’s going on here,” the tall man looked around, “I think it was necessary. If you could be so kind as to guide me through the appropriate measures to be taken regarding the droids?”
“Yes- can you make sure Mr. Choi is escorted safely outside first? He might require some medical attention-”
“Y/n-”
“It’s okay, Jongho,” you assured with a smile. “It’s going to take me a while here, but I’ll be with Yunho and Wooyoung. I’ll be okay.”
Jongho looked at the Commander for permission and he nodded, letting him take you to a side for a little privacy. “I’m anxious, y/n. I don’t want to leave you here-”
“I’m not alone, trust me,” you took both his hands in yours. “I need you to get out of here and get to Cookie, okay? She’s going to be worried sick- she knows everything now.”
“Really?” Jongho shook his head. “What about your parents? My parents- are they okay?”
“They’re all fine,” you told him. “They had a memory blocker but Yunho was going to take care of that before he came here. Everything will be normal when you go back.”
“Not normal. Not if you’re not there,” he said and you laughed at that.
“Jongho, I’m so thankful to you for a number of things. I’ll tell you all about it once we’re back, okay?” You promised. “But I need to take care of all the droids first. You know they can’t keep on living like this anymore. You know that better than anyone.”
Jongho nodded reluctantly and you continued. “You saved me today, Jongho. I’ll thank you for that now. And you need to be safe, at home with our families, so I can work peacefully here, okay? We’ll be in contact- here,” you went to grab a paper and pen to scribble your contact number. “You can call me whenever.”
“Alright,” he finally gave in, bringing you in for a hug and you gladly soaked in every bit of it. You needed that for what was next.
—--------------------------
“You’re burning the toasts, Wooyoung.”
“They need to be just the right amount of brown for this dish to come together,” Wooyoung tsk-ed at your ignorance and you scoffed, looking for someone to back you but apparently everyone’s new favourite sport was to gang up on you now.
“We get that you’ve not been in the kitchen for a while,” Jongho began. “But how did you survive living alone in Strictland?”
“Let me guess. Instant noodles and microwave food,” Cookie shook her head in disappointment when you pursed your lips guiltily. “Mom’s gonna have a stroke if she hears.”
“Shut up,” you muttered though your heart ached at the mention of your mother- two years of not knowing where her daughter was had really aged her. “And you’re laughing, Yunho. As if you’re one to say.”
“Still better than you,” he stuck out his tongue at you and before you could retort, you heard the door open.
“I’ve set everything, what’s taking so long?” San said, going to check on Wooyoung. “Now that looks good.”
“See?” Wooyoung turned to look at you. “Man’s got taste.”
“I think I was better off coding in my room, what say you, Cookie?” You turned to leave but Yunho grabbed your arm and swung you back to your spot, laughing along with Jongho. You noticed Cookie was too busy staring at San who was helping Wooyoung plate the last of the dishes now. You met Jongho’s eyes and you shook your heads- her crush on San was way too obvious. Yunho shook his head, amused, and you all decided to let her have her moment.
It had been about 3 months since the raid in Strictland and since then, you were working on wiping clean any signs of the Droid Project in the land. You, Yunho and Wooyoung had worked day and night for a whole month to turn the hundreds of droids back to normal and then it was the military’s job to get them back to where they belonged. Everyone had unanimously agreed that since you guys were the brains behind this, it was your decision if you wanted to keep the data or delete everything permanently. One look at Yunho and it was decided- you were going to burn everything related to the project. It had almost caused the world to lose its humanity. There should be no signs of it anymore.
Everyone who was a part of the Eden Droid Project was tried in court and imprisoned with heavy sentences of treason, especially those who had collaborated with people from other nations and risked their homeland’s security. These included everyone who willingly cooperated- testimonies were heard, yes, but they didn’t prove to be much valuable. All the military needed was a background check of their activities which attested to their willingness- people like you who had left the project in its early stages and suddenly found themselves back were let go of with non-disclosure agreements. Some were put on probation but it turned out good.
What surprised you was when you were called as a witness for Mr. Han’s testimony. He revealed that he had purposely not blocked your memories of Jongho so you would quickly realise what was going on and do something about this project. Since he had always been a part of this project, it was hard to believe that he had contributed to the downfall of this project but you had to agree- if it weren’t for him, things would have been much, much different. He got the lightest sentence among those who willingly participated in this project and he was grateful that you came on his behalf. You figured you couldn’t be mad at him for too long- he probably did what he did for his family too.
The Panel was sure to not let a whisper of this project out- everything was hushed and treaties were signed. You met with a few of the members who commended your efforts but you didn’t take any credit. You did what you had to. You only asked for one favour- to let you and your friends be. You were never going to play with the idea of droids again- this was enough. You were simply going to work on the last droid- CS- from ‘the headquarters’ which was Yunho and Wooyoung’s home. The Panel agreed- they knew better than to get on your wrong side. If the world came to hear about what happened in Strictland, the establishments would collapse. 
As for San, your new friend… he was CS- the droid. The person you felt the most sorry for. The person you had apologised to at least a hundred times in a span of the past few months because it took you the longest to get his droid functions to hibernate, and once he became somewhat human?
You recalled the look in his eyes that absolutely shattered you- the look of guilt and horror. It was very messy at first, countless arguments as you tried to convince him that you were not a monster (but weren’t you? You created the droids, after all) and that you were so sorry for using him as a weapon and as a shield, and you were sorry for what he had to go through all this time. Sometimes, it looked like you two were getting along but then one night, you had your worst argument- screaming and yelling, tears and anger. Yunho and Wooyoung had been out and they chose the worst (arguable) timing to come back home- with Cookie and Jongho. 
And how Cookie defended you. When she heard the yells, she stormed inside and hugged you and you sobbed into her chest while she sent daggers in the stranger’s direction. And then what she said afterwards was how you got here- to being a group of tightly knit friends.
“My sister has been used, manipulated, held hostage in a simulation and made to code you droids with the threat of her family hanging on her head. She went back to sacrifice herself and everyone including you if that meant the world could be a safer place for the rest of us, so don’t you dare call her a monster. If it weren’t for her, you would have been their first killing machine, do you understand? You should be thanking her for trying to save you- she’s still a fucking droid and refuses to feel tired or sleep until you can!”
“Cookie!” You scolded. “Language!”
“I’m almost 18 now, I’m not a kid anymore,” she glared at you and you felt that stab, having missed two of the most important years of her life. She went back to glaring at San who looked… starstruck? “She didn’t see her family and her boyfriend in 2 years because she was afraid she’d hurt us. Don’t you call her a monster ever again.”
Now? Now you smiled proudly whenever you thought of that night. After Cookie’s outburst, everyone was too surprised to say anything and it was Wooyoung who tried to cut the tension in the air by asking Cookie to take you to his room. Jongho stood gaping at the little kid he had practically raised, muttering, “I did not raise her like this but damn.” And he was right. The boys had a good laugh and San slept over it and realised he may have been acting like an idiot. 
And that idiot was clearly very curious about Cookie, you realised when he opened his birthday present for her to reveal a lilac cardigan- Cookie had very casually pointed at someone’s cardigan in the street calling it cute. You did not expect San to be so observant. 
“Oh, this is lovely,” Cookie ran a hand over the cardigan’s soft fabric. “The colour- I love it, San.”
“Stop shooting daggers at San,” Jongho, who was sitting next to you, whispered, poking your stomach and you swatted his hand away.
“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, eyes still locked in San’s direction. “He’s getting way too chummy with her lately. I don’t approve.”
“You literally told San you love him like, two days ago,” Jongho pointed out and you glared at him.
“That’s because he got me my favourite brownie when I had been working all night long,” you said as if that warranted your admission of love for him. “As a polite servant should. His master is losing sleep trying to get his droidy senses back to human.”
“This droid still possesses his super hearing,” San whispered just for you to hear- you possessed that too. “So maybe shut up.”
“Stop looking at Cookie like that and I’ll shut up,” you countered and Jongho laughed out loud, having put two and two together from what he heard you whisper to San. “Don’t make me activate the master-servant dynamics back.”
“Oh, stop that,” Cookie glared at the two of you and you both immediately pretended to be normal, smiling at her. “Please get along for once. It’s my birthday. Where’s your gift, sis?”
“Uhh,” you looked around, digging in your pocket, “Here.”
A finger-heart. Cookie groaned loudly and everyone laughed as you ran for your life when she got up from her chair. “It’s on the way!” You yelled. “I forgot to order it on time!”
“It better be good or else I’ll have San droid-handle you!”
You stopped running, coincidentally finding yourself behind San’s chair. “You wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, right?”
“Your wish is not my command but her wish,” San pointed at Cookie before looking at you with that smirk you wished to wipe off his face, “very well might be.”
“Oh, I’m going back to code,” you started and San laughed, grabbing your hand before you could go inside and apologising like a true gentleman (he was actually a gentleman, you found). Wooyoung complained that the food was going to get cold if you all kept joking around and you finally gave in, settling between San and Jongho and digging into the feast.
It was heartwarming to have all of them together like this, after everything that you went through. You had never felt more content in your life, and it showed, even though you hadn’t reached the finish line yet. You still had to turn San and yourself back to normal- you had been far too busy erasing all evidence of the Droid Project to worry about yourself. As for San, it was a sensitive line to tread on. You did not want to hasten it and he understood- he was just glad that his droid functions could be controlled at his will. He was content too, having reunited with his family and found another here.
Jongho noticed you smiling to yourself as you walked back home from the convenience store- you had gone to get more drinks but you also volunteered because you wanted to take Jongho along with you. You barely had alone time with him ever since you came back so you made most of the stolen moments. 
“What’s going on in your head?” Jongho teased, elbowing you lightly.
“Nothing. I’m just happy,” you grinned. The simple truth- you were happy. “Wanna take a little break?” You pointed at the empty park with swings and Jongho led you inside, the two of you settling on the swings.
“How are your parents?” You asked Jongho. “Are they still confused about your disappearance?”
“They are, I mean… I told them I went to find you but you’re not back home yet. They wonder why sometimes.”
“When did you guys move?” You asked. “It’s a shame that we won’t be neighbours anymore.”
“I know,” Jongho sighed. “My grandmother was sick two years ago- they wanted to move closer so they could take better care of her. We still own that house so we haven’t ‘fully’ moved away’.”
“Oh, does that mean you can come by sometimes?” You asked but then you remembered. “You have college, though.”
“I could come stay there on the weekends if that means we can spend some time together,” he shrugged and you poked his thigh.
“Just like when your parents went on a trip and I would sneak out in the middle of the night so we could have sleepovers?”
“Good old times,” Jongho laughed. Now that you were getting a good look at him, you noticed how much he had changed in the years you had been gone. He was much broader now, the muscles peeking through his half-sleeve shirt more defined, and-
“You’re staring.”
“You got a haircut,” you said. “I like your hair a bit longer, I think.”
“I’m going to shave my head,” Jongho declared and you laughed loudly. Just like the old times. “This reminds me of the last time we were at a park. On the swings, just like this.”
While you had thanked Jongho for a lot of things ever since you came back- for taking care of Cookie while you were gone, for believing in you and not going out and beyond trying to find you, for making sure your parents knew you were safe wherever you were and this was something you needed to do, for not giving up when he got taken and turned into a droid, and for keeping you safe there… you were still struggling with words needed for an apology. Jongho told you time and time again that he didn’t need your apology, but that didn’t mean you felt less sorry.
“Do you consider it a bad memory?” You asked and Jongho shook his head.
“Never. I was a bit out of it when I learned that you were gone, but one night I came back to the park and recalled our conversation. I told you that you could trust me and you told me that you did. You assured me that you loved me and you knew that you weren’t alone-”
“Jongho-”
“Let me finish,” he smiled gently at you. “If you hadn’t told me all of that… I don’t know what I would have done. I was grateful that you had told me that. It meant that whatever you did was necessary.”
“God, how did I get so lucky?” You looked up at the sky, laughing to keep the sting in your eyes from getting worse. “I think I’ve used maximum luck. It can’t get any better than this.”
“Please,” Jongho smacked your arm, his ears going red and you giggled. Even after all these years, simple confessions like these made him fluster and it was the cutest thing. “I’m just telling you this so you can stop looking at me like you owe me a big fat apology. Not a good look at you, y/n. I like it better when you act like you’re the boss and can do whatever you want.”
“But I am sorry,” you told him and he looked pointedly at you but decided to accept it. Perhaps that would take the weight off your shoulders. “I should have told you more. That’s the only regret I had.”
“Oh, we’re fine anyway, aren’t we?” Jongho said. “We’re all back. Our gang has grown, Cookie is finally sharing drinks with you, we got a new friend-”
“Choi San,” you muttered. “I don’t know how you two get along so well. How all of you do. I think we’re still moments away from going full warrior-mode droid on each other.”
“Oh, that’s because you don’t like how chummy he and Cookie are,” Jongho laughed heartily. “Don’t let her find out. She’s gonna start rebelling.”
“Like, I know they can do whatever they want, I’m not against it at all. I’m probably wary because, well, I’m her sister. Of course I’m going to be. It’s just that… he looks at her the way you look at me. It’s unsettling.”
Jongho raised a brow. “Oh? And how do I look at you?”
“With those big eyes,” you grinned, and when his gaze got softer, you smacked his arm. “Stop!”
“Why?” Jongho pulled you closer, making you rock dangerously on the swing but he was quick to cage your legs between his so you wouldn’t fall over. “How do I look at you? Like I’m in love? Like you’re my everything?”
“You need a drink,” you told him, about to bend to pull one out of the grocery bag but Jongho grabbed your arm instead, making you look at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy!”
Jongho must have been in a dire need of drink because he wasn’t all for such romantic moments- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic. When he was in the mood, you often found it overwhelming simply because you couldn’t believe he could love you so much. He intertwined his hands with yours, caressing the scar on your wrist below which the chip was embedded. When he looked at you, your gaze was already stuck on his parted lips and he didn’t waste time drawing you in and meeting your lips in a heartfelt kiss. You let your arms travel around his neck mostly for support because you were still worried you would fall off the swing but Jongho had you secure, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck as he deepened the kiss.
It was perfect. It was quiet with only the sound of cicadas carried by the cool breeze, the faint sound of traffic almost dismissable. It was nostalgic and contained longing from all the time you spent apart, the time you lost and wished you could get back. But what made your heart content was that it was still the same. He was still the same, just like you had left him. He still kissed you like he couldn’t have been elsewhere. He still held you like he did the first time- with caution and care, making sure you felt safe. As you continued to kiss, he let go of that caution and let himself get comfortable too, the kiss turning passionate. It was only when you heard the sound of passersby- children- that you broke apart with a little laugh.
“Can we ditch going back to give them the drinks and continue?” You asked and Jongho laughed, kissing you for a few moments more before he let go with a sigh.
“You owe me two years worth of kisses,” Jongho said, getting up and helping you get up next. “You better make up for it.”
“Really?” You took him by surprise as you pulled him for another short kiss. “That’s one less for you now.”
“I’ll take another then,” Jongho kissed you back and when he drew apart, you two burst into a fit of giggles. “Let’s go back.”
The short walk back to the headquarters cut a few more kisses from what you owed him and when you set the drinks on the table, you found everyone looking pointedly at the two of you. “What?”
“What took you so long?” Yunho shook his head, opening the drinks and then pausing mid-air. “Actually… don’t answer that.”
“Oh?” San unintentionally quipped in, looking confused for a moment before he looked around and connected the dots. “Oh.”
“Ew,” Cookie said and everyone burst into laughter, making Jongho hide his face in a corner and you threw a packet of chips at Wooyoung who was laughing the loudest, who proved you wrong instantly by laughing even louder. You couldn’t help but join despite everyone ganging up to tease the two of you. You subconsciously touched your wrist, remembering that you were part droid right now but San caught that, sharing the sentiment-
That even though you were part droid, you had never felt more human. You had never felt more emotional, and perhaps, these moments that became a part of your subconscious had ultimately saved all of you. You made a silent prayer wishing everyone’s subconscious would be filled with such wholesome and happy moments. As long as you had this, you would be okay.
Elsewhere, at the outskirts of Strictland, a man dressed in all-black with a cap was standing anxiously waiting for someone. As soon as he saw a car approach, he clutched his briefcase tighter, worried his attempt at a negotiation would go wrong. The car halted a few feet away and a man in a suit accompanied by another of a much bigger stature drew closer.
“What have you got?”
“A few documents and one chip that I managed to hide before they found me,” the man adjusted his cap. “I have a trial scheduled this week so I thought I’d get this done.”
“And everything is here, in this briefcase?” the man in the suit asked and got a nod. He signalled . “Thank you. Your job here is done.”
Before the man could ask what was next, the one standing in the shadows pulled out a gun and shot that man in the forehead before he could blink. The man in the suit wiped his suit mockingly.
“Get rid of him, and make it quick. We’ve got work to do.”
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sunderwight · 5 months
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SVSSS AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates as usual, except it's to find that his system is freaking out because it's been several years since Luo Binghe was supposed to show up at the sect trials to start his plot but so far there's been no sign of the protagonist, the Protagonist Halo Features aren't working correctly, and there's another transmigrator who arrived earlier, somehow hacked into the system, and erased its ability to track or punish him before disappearing into parts unknown (it was Airplane).
So Shen Yuan, now Shen Qingqiu, reasons that anyone who was trying to interfere with the plotline had either rescued or killed Luo Binghe while he was still young. Hoping for the former (but braced for the latter) he uses what scant knowledge the novel provided about Luo Binghe's origins, plus his new skills and some of the sect resources available, to track down Luo Binghe.
Turns out, in this version of events, some "random benefactor" showed up and gave Luo Binghe's mother some life-saving medicine. So she didn't die. But her health remained poor and Binghe never left her side, instead doing as much of her work as he was able to. So teenaged Binghe is basically a seemingly average, run-of-the-mill servant.
Shen Qingqiu is like "well this is pretty easy to fix actually" and approaches Luo Binghe as a wise immortal master type, says he sees Binghe's potential, and offers to take him on as a disciple. Luo Binghe is thrilled and kind of gobsmacked, but won't abandon his mother. Not a problem! Shen Qingqiu figured he wouldn't, so he offers to make arrangements to have Mama Luo comfortably set up in one of the villages at the base of the mountain. Sure, having her be alive and letting Binghe visit and write to her would be a deviation from the usual tragic backstory, but not a huge one! Shen Qingqiu is ready to mark this problem solved (and start dealing with all the other problems it creates for him) but the system is weirdly unsatisfied.
Turns out that even though Shen Qingqiu has found Luo Binghe (and a few discreet tests confirm that he has some sort of seal in place, and what are the odds of some other random orphan found on the Luo river, raised by a kindly-but-ill laundress, and named "Luo Binghe" exists in the same region?), the system still can't detect the Protagonist Halo Feature. The stupid glitching thing can't recognize the protagonist without it, so it keeps insisting that Shen Qingqiu locate him, even when he's kneeling right there and performing the tea ceremony for his initiation!
It's really annoying!
Especially since this means that the system won't actually safeguard Luo Binghe from harm. Which means it's up to Shen Qingqiu to make sure that his little white lotus disciple lives long enough to become the ruler of everything. This is easier said than done! Between the skinner demon side quest, and the demonic invasion, and various other side missions to build up the protagonist's potential, Luo Binghe is constantly getting into trouble and Shen Qingqiu keeps getting poisoned or injured trying to drag him back out of it in one piece!
Matters come to a head at the Immortal Alliance Conference (as they so often do). Shen Qingqiu is not planning to yeet Binghe, of course. Like this there's no guarantee of survival, and the system isn't even demanding it of him (because it still doesn't recognize the protagonist), but it seems to be demanding they turn up for the event anyway. Shen Qingqiu is a nervous wreck and fighting the urge to hover, because as expected, there is still a demonic invasion. Except this time Mobei Jun is there, and so is a mysterious cloaked figure who seems to be searching for something.
As soon as Shen Qingqiu claps eyes on the figure, the system chimes happily.
Protagonist Halo successfully located!
Turns out, part of Airplane's hacks involved stealing the halo and reassigning it to himself. Except that means that narrative destiny still wants him to hit certain plot beats, so he's been busily conquering the demonic realms -- in MBJ's name of course -- and mostly doing the bare minimum to satisfy the requirements while evading the system's efforts to regain contact. But now he's gotta go get Xin Mo somehow, except the minute Shen Qingqiu spots him so does the system.
The system, which immediately reassigns Airplane as the protagonist, and orders Shen Qingqiu to throw him into the Endless Abyss.
Which is like, better this rando than Binghe, so okay, but Mobei Jun is not cooperating plus the mysterious hooded stranger also seems pretty resistant to the idea (Airplane is NOT a heavenly demon, Protagonist Halo or no he's still actually a relatively squishy human cultivator, and he does not want to go into the hell pit), and between one thing and another Airplane manages to fall int the Abyss with Luo Binghe.
Not ideal. Which is to say, Shen Qingqiu is emotionally devastated and almost convinced that Luo Binghe has died for real and that Mysterious Halo Thief is going to come out somehow in a few years and chop off all his limbs, and Mobei Jun is extremely distressed because the man he intends to marry just fell into the Endless Abyss, and that seems like a difficult thing to somehow Evil Vizier your way out of.
The other peak lords arrive to keep Mobei Jun from killing Shen Qingqiu, and so everyone just kind of despairingly returns to their separate corners of the universe to wait and see what will happen.
Meanwhile, down in the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe has unlocked his heavenly demon blood and is now constantly trying to kill Airplane. But thanks to the transferred protagonist halo it just doesn't work. The system interferes and creates a last-minute unlikely survival route for Airplane every time. They eventually reach an impasse where Airplane can't die but only Luo Binghe is strong enough to actually fight most of the creatures in the Abyss, and all this "fighting" between the two of them (generous description) keeps attracting big monsters.
So, Airplane offers a deal. He knows things about this place. Including how to get out. If Luo Binghe helps him fend off the monsters, then he'll help Luo Binghe survive and escape as well. He even offers to help him get away from Shen Qingqiu and make a place for himself in the demon realms! Luo Binghe tries to kill him again for that, so he drops that line of attempted bribery really quick and switches tactics. He knows more things! Things about Shen Qingqiu's past! Secrets he'll share if Luo Binghe helps him!
Is this the start of a beautiful new friendship?
No.
Turns out Luo Binghe and Airplane have exactly the correct combination of shared traits and differences to find one another mostly intolerable. But not intolerable to the point of not being able to manage teeth-clenched teamwork. By the time they get out of the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe never wants to hear about cup noodles or tax collection or Mobei Jun's tits ever again, and Airplane feels much the same about anything at all to do with Shen Qingqiu (and either Shen Qingqiu is a fellow transmigrator now or else Luo Binghe has inserted a shockingly vivid delusion over the scum villain he wrote). But they're both alive and in joint custody of an evil sword.
Unfortunately, due to the bickering and the complexities of Shang Qinghua's sketchy memory for his own plots, it takes them even longer to get out of the Abyss than it took PIDW Luo Binghe to manage on his own.
And, uh. Well.
They don't find things in great shape, considering how they left them...
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cherienymphe · 10 months
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Basic Training XII (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​
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➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
“Why do you listen to everything Steve says?”
Peter’s movements paused at the sound of your soft voice. The bath water had cooled some but was still warm and soothing on your skin. Your chin rested on the side of the tub as Peter sat before you on the floor, squeezing the rag and raining water down on your back. At least, he had been until you voiced what had been on your mind for some time.
Outside of the obvious thing they had in common, Peter seemed so different from the blond. He was so much more gentle, understanding, and you couldn’t fathom what the connection was. Why was Peter so content to hear the man out or even give weight to the things he said? Why did he even care about Steve’s opinion? Why did he even care about Steve, at all?
“I don’t listen to everything he says…”
“No...not everything,” you relented, recalling that if that were true, you would’ve been in the basement several times over. “…but what he thinks clearly means something to you.”
Peter was gently brushing your shoulder, now, and when his dark eyes met yours, he gave you a brief crooked smile.
“Steve does mean a lot to me.”
You frowned a bit at that, and Peter noticed, taking his free hand brushing his fingers along your cheek.
“He’s my brother,” he told you.
You blinked at that, and you were sure that your confusion was all over your face. Your gaze rose as Peter stood, and you watched him lean over to let the water out. Taking a bath with Peter, or with him simply there, was not uncommon for you, now. Sometimes he sat behind you in the water, gently scrubbing your skin, and sometimes he was merely next to the tub, talking to you and occasionally washing some part of your body.
Sometimes even your hair.
He wrapped the towel around your shoulder, helping you out by your shoulders. You found yourself leaning into him as he dried you off, leading you into the bedroom as he did. When he sat you down on the bed, he moved towards the dresser, picking out something for you to sleep in.
“They all are,” he continued as he returned to you. “Our parents took it upon themselves to adopt as many children as they could handle.”
Your eyes were wide as you listened to him, lifting your arms when he motioned for you to, and the nightgown slipped down over your head.
“All of us were babies or practically that when they did,” he told you. “I was the last to be adopted, and growing up in a house full of older brothers was something.”
Peter smiled as he said this, like he was thinking back on fond memories, and you found yourself wanting to know what they were. Your mind whirled as you took in this new information, and you felt silly for never considering that before. You’d thought their closeness and camaraderie came from being friends for years as well as coworkers.
Not brothers.
At that, you looked around the room, taking it in through different eyes. This house was where Peter—where all of them—grew up, and your lips parted. You had the hardest time imaging Peter or Steve or Sam running around the yard as children, running through the house as children. You briefly wondered if this was Peter’s room, the one he’d grown up in, and you voiced that thought.
“It is,” he answered, gently rubbing your arms as your eyes met his again. “…and when I decided that I was ready to take a wife too…when I decided that I had to have you…”
He leaned in, gently brushing his lips over yours.
“I made it so nice and pretty for you.”
You looked down at that, unsure of how to feel.
“I never did ask…but I assume you like it since I haven’t heard any complaints,” he softly said.
You nodded.
“It is pretty,” you quietly assured him. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever had.”
That wasn’t a lie, and you almost felt bad for saying it, briefly thinking of your mom. Peter took your hands, kneeling before you, and your frown deepened.
“Why…?”
You trailed off, wondering if you should voice your thoughts.
“Why do you do this? Why did you take me? Why did Steve take Margaret? Laura? Sharon? Surely your parents can’t be happy with this…”
You said that, but in truth, you didn’t even know. In fact, there was a large part of you that wondered if they were even alive. While possible that they simply left and left this house to their sons, you doubted that, and you found that your suspicions were correct.
“Well, they both died about six years ago,” he informed you, looking sad about it. “Our dad was a cop too…”
Peter stood, joining you on the bed, and you found yourself enraptured by what he was saying, getting a glimpse into his world and life.
“Died in the line of duty,” he confessed, and without thinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. “Mom had been with him for so long, forty something years, and it broke her heart.”
His tone of voice gave you an inkling of what he was going to say before he said it.
“Tony found her about a week later. They said it was a heart attack.”
Against your will, your heart sank, and you found yourself feeling…sad for Peter. You didn’t know why. He’d kidnapped you, after all, and knowing great loss himself, he’d allowed his brothers to make you go through the same. Still, if you changed your mind right now and decided that you wanted to see how your mom was doing, you didn’t doubt that Peter would do it.
He didn’t have that luxury.
“I’m sorry,” you eventually whispered, and he gave you a rueful smile.
“I’m better about it, now,” he assured you. “…and…about everything else…?”
He exhaled, leaning back on his elbows.
“Our dad did the same to our mom when she was only nineteen.”
His words had your eyes widening some more, and you looked at him in shock. Peter had said it so casually that you didn’t quite comprehend what he’d said at first, but when you did, you moved closer, bringing your feet up onto the bed.
“What?”
Peter nodded, looking like it was the most normal thing in the world, and you supposed that for him, it was. If he knew that was how his parents had met, then clearly it wasn’t secret. Or…at least…not a well-kept one.
“By the time I was adopted, he didn’t have to punish her as much, but Steve says that when him, Bucky, and Tony were taken it, it was a regular thing to hear her crying in the basement or see him give her a few lashings.”
The thought made you swallow, and now, you couldn’t imagine Peter growing up in this house for a whole other reason. His mother’s life sounded horrible—familiar—and you recalled that Peter implied she’d died of a broken heart. You didn’t need to be a genius to realize that she’d succumbed to her own captor, and fearfully…that realization also sounded familiar.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of Peter’s hand on your arm, tracing patterns into it with his fingers.
“She grew to be really happy with him,” he tried to assure you, and he didn’t need to address the words that went unsaid.
So would you.
The implication was there, and you let him twist his fingers with yours.
Now, it all made sense. They’d grown up in a house with a rapist and captor for a father and victim for a mother. They grew up witnessing her abuse, internalizing, accepting their version of normal as it was passed down to them. They grew up to repeat history, and you got the sick feeling that their father would be proud.
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You looked over as Natasha swayed, worriedly eyeing her as you distractedly stopped what you were doing. This was the second day in a row that she didn’t look much like herself, almost haggard. You both were preparing dinner, Christine having stepped outside to grab some thyme from the garden.
“Are you okay?” you finally asked her.
Truthfully, she didn’t look the best, but you didn’t want to say anything lest that wasn’t intended. The redhead didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you were worried that she’d ignore you. Natasha had been a little off as of late, quieter around everyone really, not just you, and it worried you. It wasn’t like her.
“I’m…fine,” she breathed. “Just feeling a little lightheaded, that’s all.”
At that, you completely stopped what you were doing and neared her. She shook her head when you asked if she minded, your hand out, and you pressed it to her forehead. She didn’t feel feverish, and you told her so.
“I don’t think I’m coming down with something, so I wouldn’t expect to be,” she sighed.
Her tone and the expression on her face made you think that she had an inkling as to what was wrong. You started to voice that when a familiar voice drew both of your attention.
“That smells great, pretty girl.”
You smiled before you could stop yourself, only allowing it to fall some when you blinked, silently chastising yourself.
“…and Nat,” he teasingly drawled, making his way to you.
“Thank you, Peter,” the redhead evenly said, returning to the food before her.
You eyed her again as Peter’s hands settled on your waist, frowning to yourself as you watched her continue her work like nothing was wrong. You seriously got the feeling that something was going on with her, and it’s not like you felt comfortable to bring that up with Peter in the room.
You only just realized that Peter was saying something.
“Do I get a sample before the rest of the house?”
He already knew the answer to that, and you gave him a look.
“I’m barely even done,” you told him. “…and besides. You know that Steve wants us all to experience it together as a family.”
You made sure to face away from Peter when you rolled your eyes at that. Steve being the equivalent of the first-born son made it click as to why he seemed to be the head of the household for the most part. Learning about their childhood and their relationship with one another also made it clear why Peter only took half of what Steve said to heart.
It’s why you were unsurprised when Peter reached around you to taste the pot of soup anyway.
“Needs more salt,” he said, but his tone was light. “See…”
He gripped your chin, turning your head and making your lips meet his in a small kiss. It took you by surprise, and you made a noise in the back of your throat, more shocked with yourself when you started to kiss him back just as he pulled away. Peter smiled at you when his gaze met yours, and he quickly kissed your cheek before finally pulling away.
“I guess I can just add more at the table. It tastes great.”
He squeezed your sides, saying goodbye to Natasha. You looked after him as he went, oblivious to the fact that you’d stopped staring in order to do so until Natasha called your name. You softly apologized, and you could feel her gaze on you. It was silent between you two again…for a while.
“You seem to be adjusting pretty well.”
You looked at her, thinking on it.
“I guess I am,” you slowly told her, frowning. “I don’t think I ever apologized for my birthday dinner, by the way. I know it was weeks ago, but…”
“Don’t,” the other woman argued. “You had every right.”
You watched her heave a sigh.
“None of us enjoyed our first birthday here. Considering your…circumstances, I would’ve been worried if it was anything other than what it was,” she sadly said.
In truth, Natasha had been off ever since she found out just how you’d been taken and her husband’s part in it. You imagined that it had to affect the way she saw him, and as she grew quiet again, your desire to check on her won.
“Natasha, are you okay?”
She briefly paused at your question.
“You just seem really unlike yourself, lately, and… You look unwell.”
You watched her face harden, lashes fluttering as she blinked, and for a moment, you didn’t think she’d answer. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she spoke, you almost didn’t hear her.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she told you, making you sharply inhale. “…and I don’t want Bucky to know. Not yet.”
You felt flattered that she trusted you wouldn’t tell, and you wouldn’t, not even to Peter, but you did wonder why she didn’t want Bucky to know just yet.
“I kind of hoped I could avoid this, you know…? I’d always been told it would be hard for me to conceive, but not impossible, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t been trying…but…”
Her shoulders sagged, and she wouldn’t look at you.
“Either Bucky was going to take someone else’s baby, and two more innocent lives would be ruined or…a miracle would happen. Bringing another life into this was inevitable, anyway, but I’d hoped…”
She shook her head.
“I’d made peace with starting a family with someone I’d trusted who grew up to betray me in the worst way possible…I’d made peace with who I thought he was, but… He murdered your friend.”
She looked at you, and your chest tightened.
“…and he might as well had murdered the rest too. I don’t know if I can make peace with that…”
You could see it on her face that she was struggling with all of this all over again with these recent developments, but you didn’t know what she was getting at. You didn’t understand where she was going with this…or if she was just ranting.
“…and you’ve known all along and had to be around them this whole time and try to suck it up and cope as best as you can…and…Peter…”
She breathed his name, a look of disgust and anger on her face. She shook her head, and her eyes met yours again.
“I can see that…you’re taking all of this better than before,” she noted, eyes falling to your ring. “…that you’re trying to find some peace in this, but there’s something you need to know about Peter. I know that you-.”
“So much of the thyme wasn’t even edible, anymore,” Christine said as she came into the kitchen. “I had to pick through so much.”
Her presence had Natasha swallowing her words, and your brows were drawn together as you stared at her. You weren’t paying attention to a word Christine was saying, too focused on what Natasha was going to say. You feared that with the other woman’s presence, you wouldn’t even have another chance to know what Natasha was going to say.
As the brunette pulled the other woman into conversation about stuffing the chicken, you forced yourself to let it go for another day. After all, what didn’t you already know about Peter?
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You sat on your bed twiddling your thumbs as you waited for Peter to return. He was downstairs with the rest of the men, talking about work, you assumed, and considering that Steve hadn’t had much appreciation for that night you’d dozed off on the stairs, you decided to wait for him here.
As much as it was killing you.
Every time you were away from Peter, you just felt so anxious, and you didn’t like it. Truthfully, you should feel relieved and like a breath of fresh air anytime he was gone. After all, when you were alone, it was like he couldn’t get enough of you. You absentmindedly reached up to touch a tender area of your neck, and when a shudder traveled down your spine at the memories, you weren’t so sure that it was one of fear.
The only time in this house where you could just be was when you were with Peter. More specifically…when you were under him. When you were with him, it was the only time where you weren’t obligated to pretend. He let you be sad, and ask questions, and talk about your friends. Peter allowed you to have a space that was safe…and the irony in that was not lost on you.
When you were under him, your mind was blank, unable to process anything but the feel of him inside of you. It was a feeling you were starting to crave whenever you felt overwhelmed, and you hated it. You shouldn’t want Peter. You shouldn’t enjoy Peter, but your only safe space was Peter.
As if your thoughts summoned him, the room door finally opened.
“Oh, hey!” he said with surprise when you hurried off the bed, wrapping your arms around him. “Not asleep yet?”
Still at war in your mind and unable to voice your thoughts, right now, you shook your head.
“You should be getting more sleep,” he told you, touching the skin beneath your eyes when you pulled away.
“That’s hardly my fault,” you dryly reminded him, and Peter chuckled, a half smirk on his pink lips.
“Sorry, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I just can’t get enough of you.”
When he started to lead you towards the bed, you stopped him. He looked at you in wonder, and you pulled your lip between your teeth.
“What is it?” he softly asked, concern dancing in his gaze.
“Can we go outside?” you quietly wondered, continuing before he could refuse. “I didn’t get to go outside, today, and… I don’t know, I just feel really down.”
Natasha’s confession and your feelings regarding Peter were weighing you down. You knew that the men liked to know as soon as possible if their wife was pregnant, but Bucky wasn’t your husband, and it wasn’t up to you to tell him something so personal about the redhead. Besides, as long as he didn’t suspect that she or anyone else knew and kept it hidden, it wouldn’t be a problem.
…and Peter…
You tilted your head at him, just wanting to be outside and feel the air on your face with the one person in the house you felt you could be open with. Peter told you that he liked that you wore your heart on your sleeve, and it had made something bloom in your chest, a feeling you’d quickly tried to squash down.
“I know I’m not allowed to be out this late, but…”
You couldn’t tell if Peter was considering agreeing or not until he threw you a soft smile, tightening his hand on yours. You both were quiet as he led you through the wing and down the stairs. You didn’t know where Steve was, but you knew that if he came out like the boogeyman, Peter would protect you.
He always did.
It was so much cooler with the sun down, the half-moon taking it’s place. You really loved the pond, and so you weren’t surprised when Peter started to lead you there the moment you both made it outside. You kept looking up at the stars, recalling how while living in the city, you hadn’t been able to see them. It was something you always envied rural areas for.
“You’re like a little kid, sometimes…”
You looked at him at that, sitting down.
“Always need to come outside and play in the grass and see the water,” there was a smile on his lips as he grinned down at you. “It’s cute.”
You wanted to tell him that being trapped inside for days on end would do that and what else did he expect? However, proving what he said to be true, your thoughts were clearly all over your face.
“I get it,” he exhaled, lowering himself next to you. “Of course, you’d want to be outside all the time.”
Peter reached up, brushing his fingers along your cheek.
“…but you understand why, right?”
He continued before you could say anything.
“To keep you safe. To keep all of you safe,” he told you. “There’s so much that could happen to you out here, and…”
He trailed off, but you finished for him.
“You don’t trust us… Me.”
Again, you didn’t know what Peter or Steve expected from you. If you’d wanted to make a run for it so badly, you would’ve tried already.
“I know you would never,” Peter whispered, taking your face into his hands. “…but just think of what would happen if you did manage to get away and tell anyone.”
He frowned at you.
“It would take a miracle for them to believe you, and on the off chance that they did…”
Peter sighed, a sad sound, and now you frowned.
“Imagine what would happen to Margaret and poor Sarah. Growing up without her dad? Her uncles?”
You looked down at that, having never thought about that before.
“…and Jane would be heartbroken without Thor. It would be so hard for her to move on. I don’t think she ever would to be honest.”
No, you never had any intention of escaping, but these were things that had never crossed your mind. God, you hated Steve. You hated and feared him more than anyone in your entire life, but from what you’d seen, he thought the world of Sarah…and she adored him just the same.
You shook your head, not wanting to think about that.
“I’m not saying you would…just something to think about.”
“I know,” you mumbled.
Peter tilted your head up, his dark eyes searching your own.
“You wouldn’t…right…?”
“Of course, not,” you quickly assured him.
He stared at you for a long while before nodding.
“Good,” he murmured, leaning in. “I would be really hurt to think that you would.”
Peter kissed you then, and you didn’t kiss him back.
At first.
His lips were so soft against yours, they always were, and you hated that it was something you noticed. You noticed a lot of things about Peter lately, most of them when he was touching you. You noticed how toned he was. Not as muscular as Bucky or Thor, but enough to tell you that he could hold his own with the rest of them, could hold his own against you if need be.
You noticed the way he always needed to touch you. Not even sexually, but just to feel you and confirm that you were there. He liked brushing his hand over your back at dinner or resting it on your thigh. He liked walking up behind you in the kitchen and touching your waist or resting his chin on your shoulder.
He especially liked bathing with you, taking it upon himself to clean you and look after you, like it was his responsibility to make sure you were well cared for in the best way possible. Especially after sex. Peter loved cleaning your skin and holding you while you caught your breath and telling you that you were okay. The contrast of how roughly he could thrust into you and hold you from how gently he cared for you when it was over was great.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into your shoulder.
The night air had you shivering as he undressed you by the pond, and your movements were hesitant, almost refusing. You were outside, and even though you weren’t right in front of the house, it was still within view. The thought of someone seeing you made you shrink in on yourself.
“Peter…”
“It’s okay,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.”
You gasped when he pushed himself into you, stretching you out slowly. Your fingers pressed into his arm and back, thighs opening for him as he pulled his hips back. Peter loved having sex with you, and you guessed that if he had it his way, he’d be inside of you all the time.
You hated that you didn’t hate it.
You could feel yourself relaxing beneath him, letting yourself go on the grass. It really did feel like it was just you and Peter whenever he was inside of you, curving his hips into yours and forcing moans from your lips despite how much you wanted to swallow them down. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you thought to yourself—who cares? It’s not like Peter didn’t know how much you needed him. You’d made that clear the day you’d almost lost your mind at him having to go back to work.
You made it clear when you couldn’t even make a decision without looking at him first. When you couldn’t sleep without him. When his mere presence put your heart at ease. In this nightmare, you needed Peter, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He groaned at that, leaning in to kiss you again.
“Atta girl…”
When his lips trailed to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, you turned your head. The house wasn’t completely dark. It was still kind of early in the night, so, you wouldn’t expect it to be. However, what was unexpected was a figure standing in an upstairs window. It was in a different wing of the house than yours, and you blinked in shock at the sight. A shudder of fear traveled through you, and you turned your head towards the crook of Peter’s neck…
…trying to block out the unmistakable sight of short blond hair.
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 34
part 1 | part 33 | ao3
Steve ducks his head against the flurries falling outside The Hideout as he makes his way for the entrance and tries really, really hard to not to feel totally out of place.
He agreed to meet Robin and her friends here separately because he was coming straight from a shift, but he’s kind of regretting that now. The only black thing he had in his wardrobe that was at all weather appropriate was a tight-fitting black knit pullover with a high collar and a silver zipper down the front, and he feels like some dorky, supportive golf dad coming to cheer on his rebellious son after a long day out on the green. The light wash jeans and silver wristwatch aren’t really helping matters.
Jesus. He should have let Robin dress him.
The guy at the ticket counter seems to agree because he gives Steve a weird look when he approaches and asks, “Are you lost?”
“Uh, no.” And if it comes out slightly more bitchy than he intended, well—
“Five dollars,” the guy scowls.
Strike that. Maybe it didn’t come out nearly bitchy enough. “The flyer says it’s two.”
The guy eyes him up with a tight, sarcastic smile and pops his chewing gum. “For you it’s five.”
Oh, my god. Operation Woo Your Man might be dead before it starts, because Steve’s about to smash the ticket booth window and pummel this fucking guy.
“I already got yours!” Robin calls brightly, jogging up behind him on the sidewalk and waving a lime green wristband. “He’s good,” she tells the guy, then tells Steve, “Eddie said to give you this.”
Ticket guy frowns, and Steve gloats as Robin fixes the bracelet to his wrist. Yeah, buddy, you heard that right; I'm with the band.
Robin drags him into the bar, and he stops her just inside the door, hugging her tight enough to lift her up on tiptoe, smacking a kiss to the side of her head. He jostles her around until something in her neck pops, and when he lets her go she groans, “Oh, my god, do that again.”
She spins around, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve grabs her by the elbows; shakes her like a piggy bank until her spine goes crack-crack-crack.
“Wow,” she sighs dreamily when he sets her down. “Marry me.”
“You can’t just marry me for my massage services.”
“I know; it’s tragic. Anyway, come on.” She takes his hand. “Everyone’s already at the table.”
“Who’s everyone?”
Robin doesn’t answer — probably can’t hear him over the loud rock music pouring through the speakers — but she weaves them through the venue, skirting the edge of the main floor.
Steve’s never actually been in here, but it’s pretty much what he expected: black walls, black floor, black leather jackets on the handful of regulars. The stage is off to their left, already set up with Eddie’s band’s gear by the looks of it, though he doesn’t see them anywhere. Must be backstage getting ready.
In front of the stage is a small, empty dance floor, flanked by rickety tables with mismatched chairs, and overhead there’s a balcony with a sound booth and more seats. To their right, the main bar: a long, ancient dark wood counter that’s been graffitied to absolute shit, covered in band stickers and beer labels and ‘so and so wuz here’s, and just up ahead, lining the far wall, Steve spots a row of wraparound booths.
Dark red leather, the stuffing spilling out through time-worn splits. Only one of them is occupied. Steve can’t make out much from this distance beyond the vague shape of the people sitting there, but considering it’s the only table with any chicks at it, he figures that’s their group.
Suddenly, Robin stops. Turns around to look at him; drops his hand and bites her lip. “Okay, so. Don’t get mad…”
Steve narrows his eyes. He knows that guilty grimace. Whatever it is, he’s definitely about to get mad about it, or at very least annoyed. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Robin.”
“Okay!” She steps to the side, and he marches toward the table to try and get a better view, Robin trailing after him, rambling, “For the record, I really didn’t do it, I swear! But, like— well, Beth is friends with Fred, and Fred is on the school paper, so I guess he just—”
The details shift into focus: tiny frame, rigid posture. Big, curly dark brown hair.
Oh, son of a bitch. No. No.
Nancy Wheeler’s here.
part 35
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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knuckleblaster · 4 months
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On some level I understand the rejection or outright denial of V2's death: it was jarring and brutal, especially for a character who, at least in laws of traditional video game rivals and the rule of thirds, seemed like it'd stick around for longer. This said, inferring from in-game lore as well as dev statements, I believe V2's death, tragic that it is, is not unwarranted; and that it is commonly pigeonholed into a characterization it does not fit into due to its assumed role within the game.
This is long, so it's going under the cut.
Considering its name, it's easy to assume V2 is a new and improved version of its predecessor; but it is more heavily implied that it's simply a version of V1 with thicker plating, and nothing more. [1] V2 was an attempt at salvaging V1's design after war became irrelevant, to capitalize on the resources wasted on a highly advanced war machine by rebranding it as an adaptable worker, for security and (theoretically) other peacetime activities (...not an innuendo). This was a failure; there's no reason to invest in something so refined when a handful of lesser machines could do the same job [2].
If V2 is contextualized within its backstory, it makes a lot more sense why it ate shit so quickly. It is, out of any in-game machine so far, one of the least suited for survival in Hell. Sentries and Streetcleaners were created for war. Swordsmachine(s) and Mindflayers are scrapheads, constantly adapting to create (and protect) their perfect, lethal body. [3] If anything, it's on the same level as a Drone, able to defend itself in a limited capacity, but not intentionally programmed or built for combat. Faced with V1, something built for perfect, swift destruction, a machine made for peace would stand even less of a chance than normal, even with an equal level of mobility and build.
V2 is also doomed, in a very literal sense, by the narrative. In a meta sense, it does not matter to the game story whatsoever [4]. V1 is the butterfly whose wing flaps set Gabriel's story in motion, but V2 has no such connection to his story, and is thus irrelevant. Even its lore entry is overshadowed by information about V1/its connection to V1. A third fight, as well, was never in the running, not necessarily due to anything in the game lore, but because its first and second encounters are all it needs: a third rematch would be repetitive and messy [5]. The reason for its extremely violent death sequence is to ensure there was no question as to its fate [6].
In regards to its personality; it is oft-headcanoned as loud, irritable, and competitive, but this characterization is more likely due to its color as well as its assumed role as a "rival" to V1; rather than based upon its in-game actions. Although its initial intentions are up to interpretation [7], comparing its actions and mechanics to other enemies fully rationalizes its anger. Although it's fairly easy to enrage in-fight, the criteria for its enrage state is much more specific than other enemies, and it's quite easy to not trigger it at all. Cerberi will enrage after one of its kind dies, Malicious Faces and Mindflayers after a certain amount of damage has been dealt (on Violent). Most notably, as the only other character with a rematch, Gabriel begins his second fight enraged after his first defeat [3], which can imply by extension that even though V2 is taking its second fight more seriously [8], it is still not outwardly angry. Its enrage state is only triggered when its patience is depleted (the player avoids it for too long), or in its second fight when it has been punched with the Knuckleblaster. These can be interpreted as indicators that V2 likes it when the fight is "fair": when it's not being avoided and picked at from a distance, or being hit with its own arm; which is frankly pretty fucking mean. A side note: Returning to its creation, it can also potentially be inferred that V2 was intentionally programmed with a rational, controlled, and even marketable personality, easily suppressed or overwritten for ease of use.
In another game, or if V1 was the protagonist, perhaps V2 would not be dead. Instead, V2 is doomed by its creators, both in-game and in reality. It mirrors V1 in action and Gabriel in mind, but unlike them, it has no place in this story beyond a truly fantastic duo of fights. Although its story has any number of potential rewritings or epilogues [9], its doom was always intended. It's easy to mourn lost potential, and its end is intensely tragic; but I believe it is a tragedy that meshes nicely with the rest of the game's story. V2 is dead, and not a second too soon.
Footnotes:
1.
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Along with the lore entry for V2:
V1’s planned production was cancelled and an updated model, V2, was developed instead, using the standardized plating, since durability was far more important during times of peace when no bloodshed was necessary.
2.
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twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538313328715513857
3. in-game lore entries, can be read on ultrakill.miraheze.org or here in one document: steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2245904838
4.
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5.
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twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538336055681863680
6. "And then V2 dies as hard as anyone could possibly die to make sure people understand he's fucking dead and is not coming back" - dev commentary, 05:08:09 (youtu.be/kaImho5JioI?si=v4_m90nfLOY-DyEZ&t=18489)
7.
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8.
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9. Notably, Dream's End Come True / v2isdead.com.
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ystrike1 · 1 month
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How to Tame the Merciless Villain - By Peroche (8.5/10)
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A submissive, crazy, powerful magician slave plot done right? Is that even possible? They actually start as tentative friends and he falls for her first? AND the Duchess protagonist isn't an insufferable pervert or an idiot? This one is too good to be true.
I kept waiting for a disappointing plot twist, but it has not come yet.
Olivia woke up as the daughter of a Duke 4 years ago, and she's been searching for the main villain for 2. She's been visiting every slave auction, waiting for him to go up for sale. He's one of the most beautiful slaves on the market, so she cannot relax for a day or she will miss the chance to save him.
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The villain is named Kian, and he has a very tragic backstory. He was born with incredible latent magical power, but nobody cared. He was born a slave, so the noble class treated him like one. His pretty face didn't help. When his powers suddenly manifested (when an old master attempted to do S&M knife play) he felt wronged. Cheated out of the wonderful life he should have had. He was BORN talented, but all that mattered was his slave status.
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The story does a good job with showing his downfall. Originally, he was just a hard worker. A slave willing to work like a dog to survive. He did not have a violent bone in his body. The constant sexual abuse he experienced is what pushed him over the edge.
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He had many masters. Which means that, despite his beauty, the wealthy women who owned him always grew bored of him. They passed him around like he was a literal living sex toy.
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Worst of all....he had to perform well. This contributed to his breakdown more than anything. He was super submissive and generous to his masters in bed, and still he never got a crumb. Not even a good meal really. He got his own basement room, but it didn’t have a door. He sacrificed every shred of pride in his body, just to live...and then he found out he was special. So special that if he had been born anything but a slave he would have become famous and respected.
I'd snap too.
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The original Olivia was your average noble woman. She had fake friends. She was snotty but not abusive. Her family and her maids liked her, but her role was to marry the prince.
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The new version of Olivia breaks up with the Prince after she buys Kian. This sets up suspicion across the country. The Crown Prince himself has been abandoned for a beautiful slave. It's a scandal, but Olivia has a plan. She is currently in charge of her family, as her father is ill. She does not love the Prince, and she knows he's secretly a selfish coward.
She wants to pour all of her time and energy into sponsoring Kian. Which will slightly elevate him out of his status as a slave. She must ensure that Kian has decent control over his magic when it awakens in him. He's on the level of a natural disaster. Training him well will basically save the nation.
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Olivia is doing her best, but the people around her think she's gone nuts. Sponsoring some nobody slave? That she just met? It is a little fast, but remember. Olivia is on a time crunch. It took two years for her to find this man. She must calm him and tame him FAST. If he discovers his strength when he's still bitter at the world well...heads will roll.
Luckily, Olivia is so distracted by all of her responsibilities that it's impossible for Kian to deny her sincerity. He stops trying to undress for her pretty quick, because she genuinely seems uninterested.
Sure, she thinks he's pretty. BUT she's running the entire Ashford estate AND she just broke up with her powerful fiance. There's no real time to flirt. Instead Kian begins to admire Olivia.
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She also saves him from a jealous and sadistic servant who thinks they're lovers. That was a nice touch. It made her look even cooler.
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Olivia tried very hard, but the power of envy is amazing. One of Olivia's enemies sends an assassin. It's after a happy night. Kian has his sponsored status lined up. He's learning how to use magic. Olivia even attended a party with him. Their scandalous story has become inspiration for a famous artist, who painted Kian. People are interested in him, instead out outright abusive. Olivia's plan is unfolding perfectly. Kian will be a respected young magician before his true strength manifests.....
.....then the assassin comes before he's strong enough.
Olivia gets stabbed.
Kian starts screaming about how he wants to go home, with her. He carries her back. The earth splits. Blue fire swallows the assassin, and we see how much his admiration has grown. He doesn't just admire his hardworking master.
He's obsessed with her.
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actiniumwrites · 5 months
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MISTLETOE
synopsis: one year after your devastating breakup, you and neuvillette find yourselves under the mistletoe
characters: neuvillette x gn!reader
wc: 1.6k
warnings: angst to fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of breakups, the steambird being exploitative
notes: woooo first christmas fic for this year is done! this definitely could’ve been way longer, but i’ve got like four more to write and i’m pretty happy with how this turned out. this concept was also originally going to go to wriothesley but i think neuvillette suits it better :)
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The first thing that makes it really set in that the holiday season has arrived in Fontaine is the pesky decorations.
Everywhere you go there seems to be some sort of string of lights, faux presents, and little snowmen. Don’t get it twisted, it isn’t like you’re some Scrooge when it comes to the holidays, but it hasn’t quite been the same ever since, well, ever since it happened.
Your shoes click and clack against the brick flooring of Fontaine’s main city floors. The same ones that are beginning to ice over from the cruel frost of winter air. And it doesn’t exclude you either, not with the way it snips at your nose and makes it hard to breathe even when you’ve barely stepped foot outside.
“Good morning!” Charlotte calls to you as you walk past her, a hand eagerly waving you down with that mischievous glint in her eyes. Part of you wants to duck behind a bush and pretend you don’t see her, but you’re better than that.
You send her an apologetic smile and pull your coat a little closer. You slow your pace a bit but don’t stop moving as you respond, “Sorry, Charlotte. I know I said I’d interview soon, but I really can’t today.”
“C’mon, the whole world wants to know the tragic holiday tale of you and Monsieur Neuvillette! Let it be a present to the subscribers of the Steam Bird!” She pushes your buttons carefully, camera ready to strike incase you change your mind or make any comment on the matter.
If you hadn’t had any reason to turn that interview down beforehand, you certainly do now.
Even though you hate the way she looks so disappointed when you walk away, it serves all of Fontaine right for meddling with people’s private business. Seriously? Did everything have to be entertainment to these people?
You scoff as you walk away, mumbling something about forgetting that interview if that’s what she wanted all along. Naturally, she doesn’t hear it, nor does she get to see your sour reaction as you desperately walk away from her and that stupid camera.
When you finally make it to the Palais Mermonia, you check in quickly and one of the Melusines, Liath, hands you a few letters that had been dropped off for you prior to your arrival. One carelessly slips from your cold hand before you can even register it happening. When you pick it up, your body had shifted ever so slightly and for a second, just a split second, you shoot a longing glance at the doors to your right. The doors that led to his office. To him.
“Is something the matter? Do those letters not belong to you?” Liath interrupts with a puzzled expression as she tilts her head.
You snap out of your thoughts and quickly scramble to compose yourself. You hold the stack of letters close to your chest as you take a step back and awkwardly laugh, “Oh uh no! I just um, got a little distracted, sorry.”
“You got distracted looking at the Iudex’s…doors?”
You hesitate, mouth agape and unsure of how to respond, “I uh, yeah I guess I was.”
“Interesting,” she says suspiciously, squinting her lilac eyes at you, “he asked about you this morning, actually.”
“He did?” you say all too fast, perking up at the mention of his name. It’s pathetic, really. You internally thank the Archons for Melusines not being all too good at understanding human behavior.
“Yes,” she answers simply, crossing her small arms one over the other.
“And um,” you push further, not realizing the way you eagerly take a step forward, “what did he say?”
“Nothing. He merely inquired when you would be coming in today.”
You can’t help the disappointment in your voice as a quiet, “Oh,” slips out. Part of you wants to ask if there was anything else, maybe some sort of expression or tone of voice she caught, but you hold yourself back.
Get it together. It’s almost been a year.
One tragic year since the two of you split. One long, tragic year since you wished you could’ve worked something out, even if it meant you could’ve had a little more time together. It was mutual, but truthfully, you never wanted him gone. You only wish you could’ve realized it at the time.
“Thank you,” you nod and walk away while trying to hide the dismay you felt. She doesn’t say anything else.
As you walk to the other end of the hall, you notice someone had placed some illuminated garland around the frame of your door and a miniature Christmas tree in the corner a few feet away. It isn’t as extravagant as the decorations they had placed around Neuvillette’s door, but you appreciate it nonetheless.
The inside is a lot less spirited and looks like your normal dreary office. You pay no mind to it as you get to work right away, trying desperately to keep the interaction between Neuvillette and Liath out of your head. You even keep the door to your office open a little bit, letting the hushed voices in the main corridor fade into white noise while you scribbled away at some documents for the court.
And it works. You don’t even notice eight hours pass until it becomes too dark to see what you’re writing. Nor do you notice that there isn’t anyone outside anymore and that the only noise filling the space is the quiet holiday tune your phonograph plays from across the room.
You sigh and set down the pen from your cramped hand. It was December 23rd. Two days before Christmas and here you were, alone and with nothing to do for the holidays but working away in a cold office.
It makes you frown the longer you think about it. So you stand quickly, shutting off the lamps in the room and placing everything away in their files for the night. Quietly, you exit the room and lock the doors behind you as you begin to head out for the night thinking that perhaps you could go and at least treat yourself to a meal or some shopping.
You don’t expect to bump into someone the moment you turn around.
“I’m so sorry!”
“My apologies.”
You both rush at the same time.
You freeze when his deep voice hits your ears and you instantly take a step backward.“Neuvillette..?” you whisper, glancing up into the familiar blue eyes that belong to the man you once called yours. The question is more to yourself than to him. Almost as if you can’t believe he’s actually standing in front of you.
He clears his throat tensely and mirrors you in taking a step back, “Sorry, I was unaware anyone else was still here.”
“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve watched where I was going,” you say, eyes not straying from his, “and it isn’t too surprising, I mean, it isn’t like I have anything to be doing for the holidays since…nevermind.”
Neuvillette catches what you were about to say but saves you the headache of having to do any sort of explaining. Instead, he motions in front of him and pulls the keys out from his pocket, “Shall we go? It’s getting rather late. I can lock the doors behind us.”
Us. It’s weird hearing that again.
You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. Like the gentleman he always was, Neuvillette opens the door and lets you out first. You stand a few feet away by the small set of stairs as he locks it quickly. Gently, you reach your hand out from under the overhang and feel small bits of frost falling onto your hands.
“It’s snowing,” you say wistfully, admiring the delicate snowflakes falling upon your palms. Neuvillette turns to look at the sky as he walks up to stand next to you. Peeling off one of his navy blue gloves, he lets the snow reach him too.
“A rare sight for Fontaine,” he hummed with a small but warm smile on his face. Fontaine didn’t usually get cold enough to the point of snowing. It had been a long time since you had seen it either.
He turns to look at you the same time you turn to look at him. A gentle laugh falls from your lips but it stops the moment he points to something above you, “I believe this is mistletoe. I’m sure the Melusines placed this here. One of them mentioned learning about it in a book to me the other day.”
You’re surprised how conversational he is with you.
“We don’t have to,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. There’s hurt in it, and you have a hard time disguising it. It’s evident by the way his eyes soften as he looks at you.
Neuvillette exhales as he looks to the floor and then back to you, “You know I don’t like to break traditions.”
You take a step closer. He does the same.
“Are you sure? It’s been a year since…you know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—“
Neuvillette cuts you off by gently placing his lips on yours, interlocking eagerly. They’re warm and soft like a fireplace as they melt away the frost from your body. You reciprocate easily once you get over the initial shock, wrapping your hand around his neck to bring him in closer.
When you pull away, you feel a burning sensation in your throat and a tingling feeling in your eyes. You don’t know why, but the kiss makes you want to cry.
Neuvillette doesn’t distance himself either. Instead he places a gentle hand on your back as soon as you nod, pulling you into his affectionate embrace. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
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wonwayne · 4 months
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whatever you say ☁️ park jongseong
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pairing : bf!jay x fem!reader genre : tooth-rotting fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.85k
a/n : i don't really know what this is. but it's cute. (just HAD to write on this thought [creds to @atrirose] because husband material jay !!)
home. nothing felt better than coming back from an achingly long work day to the smell of you. closing the door softly behind him, jay let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. comfort always seemed to creep up on him like this, with subtle reminders in the air that you would always be there for him, ready to—
“help me build the titanic?”
you beamed up at your boyfriend, legs crossed on the living room carpet, encircled by seemingly infinite lego pieces in red, white, yellow, and black.
not quite what jay was expecting to come home to. but he approached your little recreation ground anyway, lunging carefully towards the box packaging. “another 2000+ piece lego set?”
“9000!”
“oh—”
“9090, to be exact.”
jay nodded, kneeling down by the carpet to match your eye level. “... that’s really—”
“wait no, 9092! sorry i keep correcting myself, it’s just that i forgot to add the jack and rose minifigures.” you pointed proudly at the thumb-sized people. “once i’m done with the ship, i’m going to have them at the bow like that iconic scene. and then maybe every few days i’ll move them to the floor and put rose on a little door.” you held lego jack up to your boyfriend’s face. “you look just like him.”
he glanced to the side before mirroring its boxy grin. “do i?” you nodded vigorously. “well that’s very flattering, y/n, but i should say,” and he looked emphatically at the heap of legos strewn between him and you, “you’re making it very hard for me to hug you. any closer, and i’m bound to step on a lego here.”
your expression morphed instantly from disquiet to delight. god, you could never get over how adorable he was when he said the sweetest things in the sternest voice. “i’m sorry!” you burst out, sweeping the pieces to the side and jumping into your boyfriend’s arms. “i’ll be right at the door to hug you next time.”
“thank you, love,” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head, “keep working, i’ll make dinner and help build as soon as i can.”
even more adorable, you thought, for calling your lego-building “work.”
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tragically, jay found you breaking your promise just a few evenings following. anticipating your pretty face peeking out of the doorway, he practically raced out of the apartment elevator. but instead of anything to look for, he was met by faint screams and hearty laughs — your laugh among them, and panic consumed him. who would she be laughing with in OUR apartment besides me? why the screams?? what if she’s—
bursting the door open, he was yet again unable to make sense of… you. you, belting taylor swift at the top of your lungs, dappled with rainbow light under the mini disco ball you’d set up in the far corner, mid-cartwheel with a wireless mic in one hand, dangerously close to crashing into both your partners in crime, jake and sunghoon.
they steered clear of you swiftly before freezing at the sight of a narrow-eyed jay.
“uh, y/n,” sunghoon began (poor boy), “i think—”
“—BUT THIS LOVE IS BRAVE AND WIIIIIIIILLLLLDDDDDD,” you persisted, thoroughly unaware of your boyfriend’s presence, and nearly assaulting the sofa as you landed from the cartwheel.
it took you till the end of the song’s bridge to notice your friends’ conspicuous silence. following their uneasy gaze, you saw jay maintaining the hardest poker face you’d ever seen him wear before.
but forget the “oh hi”s, skip the “let me explain”s — you glided over to where jay stood by the entrance and, offering the mic to him, sang quietly: “and i neverrrrrr saw you comiiiiiiiiiiing.” you sounded impossibly good.
“you should’ve,” he said, voice low, and with the hint of a pout, “seen me coming.” at a louder volume, he addressed the boys while his arms wrapped around your waist, “why do i have to come home to these two losers making a mess on a respectable thursday evening?”
jake opened his mouth to protest, but jay’s attention was already back to you. “you invited them?” he asked casually, pulling you closer in.
“i was getting bored without you,” and it was your time to pout, “had to unwind somehow.” you conveniently left out the detail that you had organized the whole “mess” in the house, and that the other two had played absolutely no part.
“with karaoke at the ungodly hour?”
“well, only because you arrived at an ungodly hour.”
he paused for a moment, then conceded, “right. of course, love, i’m sorry.”
you missed jake’s priceless expression as he made eye contact with jay across the room.
“P A R T N E R  P R I V I L E G E,” he mouthed as aggressively as he could.
jay scoffed, and buried his chin deeper into the crook of your neck.
the only privilege, he would tell the boys later, was that of him having you in his life.
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theemporium · 6 months
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“Atta girl, honey, takin’ us both so well.”
You gasped, your back arching off Steve’s chest as his hands traced up and down your sides, slow and teasing. You tried to reply, tried to say something but all that came out was a choked moan when his hands moved up to squeeze and grope your tits. 
“Look at her, Stevie,” Eddie’s voice sounded from in front of you as he thrusted his hips up, as he sunk his cock a little deeper into your needy cunt. “Such a pretty whore for us, just for us.”
“Just for us, Eds,” Steve groaned as he slowly worked his cock in and out of your ass, feeling the way you clenched around him tightly. “The desperate thing could probably just come from us being inside her alone.”
“Is that true, doll?” Eddie questioned, his fingers gripping your cheeks until your teary eyes met his. “Are you such a lil’ slut that you could come from us just fillin’ you up? Hm?”
“Mhm,” you whined, nodding shamelessly as Eddie grinned down at you. 
“What a pretty whore,” he cooed as he tilted his head. “A shame you gotta wake up now.”
Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”
“Wake up, doll,” Eddie said, his face blank and his voice monotonous as he continued to repeat the same sentence. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake—”
“—Up! Baby, wake up!”
You blinked, your actions slow and dazed as you tried to take in your surroundings. It was still dark in the room, barely any light getting in through the closed blinds until a lamp was suddenly turned on beside you. You let out a wince, feeling someone murmur an apology against the top of your head before you fully opened your eyes to take in where you were. 
You realised pretty quickly you were in Steve’s bedroom, and suddenly the rest of your memory came flooding to you.
It was Friday movie night. Eddie had picked you up like he did every week, drove you both to Steve’s where the boy would have set up the snacks and whatever movie he had brought from his work, and the three of you would cuddle on the couch to watch it. Somewhere between the movie ending and the credits rolling, you had fallen asleep and one of the boys must have carried you upstairs—into Steve’s room where the three of you usually slept.
And once the memories returned, so did the embarrassment of your situation quickly hit you too. 
The heat between your thighs, the racing heart and the warmth in your face said enough as you quickly sat up, trying to pull away from your boyfriends and make a beeline for the bathroom where you could try and calm yourself down. 
However, Steve wound his arm around your waist and pulled you back into bed before you could make your escape.
“Don’t,” you groaned as you leaned back into Steve’s chest, lifting your hands to cover your face so you didn’t have to see them laughing at you. “Don’t say anything.”
“Sweetheart—” Steve started but you shook your head.
“Can we please forget this happened?” You pleased, your face still covered so you failed to notice the look your boyfriends exchanged, or the smug grins painted on their face.
“Why would we wanna forget?” Eddie said as he crawled closer towards you on the bed, until he was close enough to place a hand on your knee. “Seems like you were having a pretty good dream. I think you should share with us.”
You shook your head.
“No?” Eddie let out a hum of disapproval. “Tragic. I thought you were our good girl.”
You froze and both boys tried to hold back their snickers.
“I’ll tell you what,” Steve hummed as he nosed your jaw whilst keeping you pressed against his chest. “You tell us and we’ll make it worth the embarrassment. We’ll give you something to distract you.” 
Your hands slowly dropped from your face, but your eyes were still clenched shut. “Like what?”
“Start and you’ll see,” Steve rasped in your ear, grinning a little when you shivered in response. 
And he got you right where he wanted because he knew your curiosity would win over the embarrassing feelings you were currently experiencing.
“I, uh,” you took a breath when you felt Eddie’s hands caressing up and down your thighs, like a comforting touch. “I had a dream. About the two of you.”
“Really?” Steve hummed. “What was the dream about?”
“Us,” you whispered out when you felt Eddie’s fingers curl around the waistband of your sleeping shorts.
“What were we doing, sweetheart?” Steve questioned as his fingers lightly traced shapes on your arms. “You’re gonna need to give us more than that.”
“We were in bed,” you confessed as Eddie slowly dragged the shorts down your legs, your panties hooked down with them before you could even try to clench your legs shut. 
“We must’ve been doin’ some interesting stuff in that bed, doll,” Eddie mused as he pressed a chaste kiss to your knee. “These panties are soaking.”
“Tell us the good stuff,” Steve murmured as he pressed a kiss just below your ear.
“You—” You cut yourself off when Eddie spread your legs, the sudden chill against your wet pussy making you gasp. However, a small squeeze from Steve warned you to keep going. “You were both touching me!”
Steve hummed again. “And how were we touching you?”
“You were both—oh shit,” you mewled as you bucked against Steve’s hold, as you tried to evade Eddie’s relentless attack as his tongue swiped up and down your cunt, cleaning up the mess your dream had made. “You were both inside me!”
Eddie let out a groan, his arms winding around your thighs and locking you in position as he began to lick and suck and kiss your pretty cunt like a starved man.
“Is that what you want from us, baby?” Steve whispered in your ear as you squirmed and bucked against his hold, as you tried to focus on his words instead of Eddie’s tongue teasing your hole. “Is that a secret lil’ fantasy you’ve been hiding from us?”
“Maybe,” you gritted out between panted whines. 
“We’re gonna have to work you open, to take us both,” Steve warned you as your body squirmed and wiggled and arched against his hold. 
“I know!” You cried out as your thighs squeezed around Eddie’s head, as his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit. “I want it! I want it so bad, Stevie! Wanna feel you both inside me, wanna feel you come inside me.”
“We’re gonna give you it, honey, don’t need to cry about it,” Steve cooed, a little condescending before he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Now be a good girl and come for Eddie.”
.
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verysium · 6 months
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『01』 呪術廻戦: jujutsu kaisen recs
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五条悟: gojo satoru
i know you still think about the times we had by @saetoru
satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling. notes: satoru is so desperate and pathetic here it is just delicious; has the right amount of angst to cause tension but a good ending to soothe my poor heart; traditional rich boy and disapproving mother/father scenario but implemented relatively well; miscommunication and feelings of inadequacy; reader realizing the extent to which satoru loves them
pretty eyes by @quirklessidiot
in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. notes: takes tragic star-crossed lovers to a whole new level; riddled with parallels and symbolism; idea of illness and loving someone at their worst; right person, wrong time at its finest; fate being unnecessarily cruel; surprising moments of humor
minazuki by @quirklessidiot
In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival. notes: this series needs to be scientifically studied; it is just that good; halfway in and i fell in love with the reader instead of gojo; strong and somewhat morally grey characters; dark themes around femininity in a patriarchal society but concept was executed flawlessly
21: only by @tenjiiku
“What do you want, Satoru?” You do not use his last name or any honorific to address him despite his age. He was older than you by a few years — but certainly did not act the part — so you do not think he deserves your respect. Your host father told you he does — something about his being from a prominent private school as an educator, which you cannot possibly fathom being the truth — but only in front of you is Satoru Gojo an inane, odd man with a need for clean, dry-cleaned clothes that, for some strange reason he has conjectured in his equally baffling mind, that only you can provide. He smiles at you, placing his cheek in his hand. “You.” notes: this fic embodies the duality between gojo and satoru; he is easy-going until he isn’t and you realize he actually has a considerable amount of depth; the plot twist did it for me; satoru being a loud-mouthed tease but secretly harboring feelings
soulswap by @orphxus (impxria)
this is where the evening splits in half, love or death. grab an end, pull hard, & make a wish. notes: short but realistically describes everything wrong with jujutsu society; poetic voice; gojo being serious for once; disillusionment and tragic hero archetype; being the strongest yet being unable to save anybody; geto would read this fic and feel seen
両面宿儺: ryomen sukuna
nocuous by @quirklessidiot
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I knew how this was going to end but I’m still terribly hurt by it.” notes: the heian era setting is so complex and established even through dialogue and subtle description; reader strikes me as older and able to deal with sukuna’s chaotic nature; sukuna being an absolute menace is sending me; tragic angst but almost didn’t notice it due to how beautifully the images are presented
avīci by @rotpeach
Several years ago, Satoru Gojo was involved in the exorcism of a uniquely stubborn curse. The official report states that one of Ryomen Sukuna's fingers was recovered from the scene, and nothing else. Only the two of you know the truth. notes: gore, gore, and even more gore; boy was this fic a wild ride; imagine a work that condenses the ugliest and most revolting parts of human nature yet presents them so elegantly you start questioning the blurred lines of morality; cannibalism, violence, and love triangles; japanese mythology & folklore; heian period references; cursed spirit reader tries to grapple with the idea of self after being created for the sole purpose of serving others; themes of existentialism, identity crisis, obsession
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nichuuu · 7 months
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Beats Me - 5: Tamed
(Ryujin & Yeji)
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Being Yeji’s neighbour was more of a nightmare than you’d imagined.
Yes. The prospect of her threats of coming to your house and killing you becoming reality scared you shitless. You knew she meant every word she said. You did what you could to avoid her in your apartment complex, taking the stairs, making sure to leave the house slightly earlier so that you didn’t see her at the lift landing… But no matter what you did, avoiding her was one hell of a sisyphean task. She was just about everywhere. You bumped into her in the lobby, saw her in the nearby convenience store, crossed her at the laundry room… 
It was like she was teleporting to your location each time you left your flat. It didn’t help that the two of you were perpetually on the same bus to campus each morning. She never really said much to you, opting to shoot you with her signature glare that never failed to scare you out of your skin. You wished you could just shrink away from her gaze sometimes, cower from those sharp feline-like eyes that bore into your soul each time you looked into them. She was terrifying to say the least. 
“Sounds like a shitshow for you,” Ryujin mused, staring nonchalantly at the fry in her hand. You set down your drink. 
“Calling it a shitshow would be an understatement,” you corrected. “It’s more of a… Fuck, I don’t know what it is.”
Ryujin chuckled and dipped her fry into her ketchup. “So tragic for you yet so entertaining for us…”
She popped the soggy fry into her mouth and leaned back in her seat. The beeping coming from the Mcdonalds kitchen was starting to irk you more than it should’ve in the given moment. Next to Ryujin, Kwon Eunbi sighed and took a sip of her drink. 
“You ought to try and get friendly with her,” she advised. “If you don’t, it’s gonna be plain awkward. I for one don’t like the idea of being glared at on a daily basis…”
“How the hell do I even approach that woman?” You asked exasperatedly, “What do I say? Oh hey Yeji, I know you hate my guts and all but can we be chill?”
Putting her legs up on the table, Ryujin replied. “I think you could try that.”
“She would cut me in half just by looking at me,” you promptly shot back. Ryujin shrugged. 
“You never know… Might be worth a shot.”
Eunbi sighed and folded her arms. “Sorry Myeong-seok… You’re kinda on your own for this.”
Your lips formed a thin line as you buried your face in your hands. “I know… It makes this whole thing suck a little more than it has to.”
Karina cleared her throat next to you. “You could uh… You know… Try saying hi to her when you see her around?” 
“That sounds like suicide,” you told your pianist truthfully. 
“Being a decent human being doesn’t mean you’re insane,” Karina told you.
“But this is Yeji we’re talking about here,” you reminded her, “I barely even open my mouth around her and she already wants to murder me! What will happen if I say hello?”
Jimin clicked her tongue and drew in a breath. She must’ve remembered that Yeji had an unexplained vendetta against you. You felt like it was due to the fact that you showed up late on your first day. Then again… Who stays mad at someone for that long? You didn’t know Yeji well enough to know if she was the type to hold grudges against people. 
“I’ll try and talk to her one of these days,” Ryujin piped, “maybe I can find a way to get her to be less of a bitch around you, but you’ll eventually have to get around to talking to her you know?” 
“ Yea… I do,” you told her. Trying to talk to Yeji wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, but you knew that you’d eventually have to try and sort things out with her if the band chemistry was to improve. 
Eunbi’s phone started to ring. She picked it up off the table.
“I gotta take this. If you guys have to leave, go ahead,” she told you guys. She stood up and hurriedly walked out of the Mcdonalds. You took a look at your watch and noted that it was getting pretty late.
“I think I’m gonna make a move,” you told your band members, “see you guys.”
They all waved to you as you gathered your things. You waved goodbye to Eunbi on the way out, but she was too absorbed in her phone call to see you. You decided not to disturb her and set off to the nearest bus stop. A couple minutes of waiting and a rather unpleasant ride home later, you found yourself walking down the usual path you took to get home. As you set down the footpath, thunder rumbled off in the distance. You quickened your pace, hoping to get home before the sky opened up above you. 
The gate to the lobby was in sight, the faint warm glow from the lights within the apartment complex illuminating the small space before the door like a fireplace would on a cold winter night. The light was always rather comforting to you, it symbolised security and respite from a long day. 
“Hehe… Eat up little fella…”
Though you were just metres away from the door, the voice that travelled from your left made you halt in your tracks. There was a soft meow, followed by an even softer giggle. 
“There you go… You better lick this bowl clean.”
You refused to believe your ears. But when you turned to the source of the voice, your eyes only served to prove what your ears had made you conclude. 
The voice you heard was indeed Hwang Yeji’s. It sounded foreign at first, but then you realised it was because it had taken on a softer, warmer tone. Your guitarist was squatting before a metal bowl, a rare trace of a smile on her face as she watched a cat eat cat food out of the metal bowl before her. She giggled again, a little louder this time. 
“You look terribly skinny,” she muttered,  tilting her head as she examined the cat closely.  “You don’t have a collar… You must be a stray then…” 
She gingerly stretched out a hand towards the cat. It had dark brown fur, patches of white spotting its body. Her fingers gently rested themselves atop the cat’s head, her knuckles curling and uncurling as she softly scratched the top of its head. You could only stare in shock and awe as you took in this gentler side of Yeji. You’d never thought it’d be possible for her to display affection towards anything or anyone. 
You must’ve stood there longer than you should’ve, for Yeji sensed someone’s gaze on her and whipped her head towards you. Her eyes locked with yours. For a moment, you swore you saw shock behind her eyes, then curiosity… And then they reverted back to their usual coldness. 
“Fuck are you looking at Squeaker?” she spat. 
You snapped out of your trance. “O-Oh… I-I was just… Walking home…”
“Then keep walking home. Don’t bother me,” she replied, fixing you with her usual piercing glare. She turned back to the cat, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she continued to watch it eat. You took that as your cue to leave her with her feline friend and continued to walk back towards the gate of your apartment complex. 
“Myeong-seok!”
You turned back to see Hwang Yeju waving frantically as she ran towards you. In her arm, she cradled a loaf of bread and a six pack of beer. You could also make out a tray of eggs and a pack of sausages. The items looked like they were bound to fall at any second.
“M-Ms Hwang! Be careful!” You cautioned her, brisk walking towards Yeji’s sister. To your amazement, she was able to keep all the items within the cradle of her arm and stopped right before you. 
“Hello!” She greeted you bubbly, “did you just come back from school?”
“Y-Yea…” you answered. You pointed to the groceries in her hands. “Do you need me to take some of those?”
You didn’t expect her to thrust all of her groceries into your arms. 
“Thanks! You’re really sweet!” Yeju beamed, “by the way, thanks for lending us salt yesterday. I think the cooking would’ve been a disaster without it!” 
You didn’t know how this woman had this much energy this late in the night. Your best guess was that it was simply just her personality. Furthermore, this was her third time thanking you for letting her borrow salt. It weirded you out a little, but you figured that it was simply her nature. 
“N-No problem Ms Hwang,” you assured her. 
“We’ve been through this. Just call me Yeju!” she reminded you.
“R-Right… S-Sorry Yeju…”
The older girl smiled, radiating a glow brighter than the street lights. Yeji emerged from the alley. 
“Unnie, let’s go,” she said.
“Aww come on Yeji, at least talk to your neighbour for a bit!” Yeju argued. Yeji fixed her elder sister with a glare. 
“I would rather shove a burning hot pan up my ass,” she grunted, “let’s just go.”
Yeji walked past you. She tapped her card against the reader in the gate. “I’m not waiting for you!”
“Come back here Yeji!” Yeju called. Unfortunately, Yeji had already disappeared into the lobby. With a heavy sigh, Hwang Yeju dug for her keys in her pocket. 
“She’s a lot more cranky these days… Can’t put my finger on it,” she muttered, “sorry for my sister’s behaviour… She’s a little… You know…”
You waved it off. 
“I understand,” you assured the older girl. She seemed relieved.
“Great. Let’s go inside before it starts pouring.”
The two of you entered the lobby. She asked you about your day, how things were going—The usual friendly neighbour stuff. You rode the lift together with Yeji’s older sister, carrying her groceries all the way to her apartment door where she finally took them back from you. With a friendly wave and a chirpy goodbye!, she entered her apartment and left you out in the hallway. You slotted your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “What an interesting woman…”
You headed back to your own apartment just down the hall. 
For the rest of the week, you didn’t see much of Yeju, but the frequency at which you bumped into Yeji seemed to increase. The campus cafeteria—once a haven where you were certain that you would not see Yeji—had become a meeting ground for the two of you. You’d bump into her as she was getting food or travelling to her next classroom, even spotting her from the corner of your eye while you ate your lunch. She was icy as always, her signature look of disdain glued onto her face with super glue, silently berating you as you scuttled by. 
And then there was the cat. It appeared that Yeji would always come down at night to feed the stray in the alley near the complex, whispering to it in a hushed, tender tone. She’d be in the same spot, same position—Squatted just a few metres away from the alley entrance. You made the mistake of stopping and staring the first few times, but soon learnt to keep walking on without looking at her. 
That night as the rain lashed your umbrella and the wind howled incessantly, you walked down the familiar stretch of pavement. Band practice had ended and you’d turned down Eunbi’s offer for dinner to catch up on some work. The concrete was slick with rain water, the warm glow of streetlights reflected in the stream of water that flowed down the pavement. It was chilly. Not winter chilly, but  the type of cold that was unpleasant enough to make you want to huddle up at home with a nice hot drink—That type of chilly. The rain was merciless, fat droplets pelting your face as a gust of wind blew what felt like an ocean’s worth of water towards you. In hindsight, you realised that you may have been better off going to dinner with your singer. That way, you could at least wait out the rain before heading home. 
You walked by the convenience store. The lobby was just a few metres away now. 
“Here… This should keep you warm.” 
Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have stopped to look at Yeji. But under the assault of the storm, you couldn’t help but stop and turn to see if that truly was her talking to her feline friend in this weather. 
Sure enough, she was there. In a black raincoat with her hood up, you could make out the smiling features of Hwang Yeji as she slid something into a cardboard box. The box was beneath what looked like a small makeshift shelter, made from sticks and a plastic bag. It kept the rain from attacking the cardboard beneath it, sheltering its occupant from the storm. Yeji reached in and adjusted something, her mouth moving as she whispered something to the cat. You knew that it was in your best interest to set off by now, but you found yourself walking towards your guitarist. 
“There… That should do it,” she said. She’d wrapped a blanket around the cat, swaddling the shivering animal in warmth. Yeji folded the flaps of the box—by just a little—shielding her companion from the rain while giving it ample air to breathe. You stopped behind her, holding your umbrella out slightly such that it shielded the both of you from the rain. You knew that she could sense your presence from the way her shoulders tensed. 
“What did I say about bothering me?” she asked. 
“W-Well… You’d catch a cold if I just left you alone…” 
She turned to look at you. You could only see one of her eyes under the hood of her raincoat. 
Yeji pitched the wet raincoat. “Don’t you see I have this on?”
“I-I know. But the rain’s p-pretty heavy… You could catch a cold from this.”
Yeji clicked her tongue in annoyance.  “What do you take me for? Some girl who’s weak and helpless?”
“N-No! I-I just…” 
“Then why the fuck bother with me? Do you want something out of me?” Yeji retorted, rising from her position to look you in the eye.
The air that already felt dense because of the rain somehow grew denser. Yeji fixed you with one of her usual nasty glares. You felt something bubbling inside you—A balloon of frustration slowly growing and expanding, increasing in volume as it slowly rose up from your core to your throat. The fact that she’d taken your act of kindness for an act driven by the desire to achieve something didn’t sit well with you.
“I… I just wanted to help,” you told her sincerely.
“I don’t need your help. Go away.”
The balloon burst. 
“I don’t get it Yeji,” you began, unable to withhold the frustration from flooding your voice, “from day one, you’ve been at my throat, hounding and threatening me with snarky remarks. I don’t know if you only act this way towards me, but it’s seriously putting me off. I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much, nor do I understand how I’ve been able to piss you off to the extent that you literally despise me. Please, explain it to me.”
Yeji glared silently.  Then she squatted back down and faced the cat. 
“It’s… Not your fault.”
Your grip on your umbrella—that you didn't know had tightened—relaxed a little. “H-Huh?”
Yeji drew in a breath. “Go away.”
The roar of pattering raindrops on your umbrella seemed to go silent.
“W-Wait… What do you mean—”
“Go away or I’ll scream.”
You stood there for a moment. Then you slowly turned and retreated from your guitarist, leaving her vulnerable to the onslaught of water droplets from the sky once more. As you stood in the elevator, your mind seemed to be incapable of handling the creation of a mere string of thought. Yeji’s ambiguous line impacted you more than it should’ve. 
No work was done that night. Instead, you stared blankly at the login screen to your laptop, your fingers frozen on the keyboard. The cup of tea you’d made had gone cold long ago, the condensation on the inner walls of the cup flowing into the liquid and diluting it.
Why is this affecting me so much? I’m not even that close to her… 
You could figure out why Yeji’s statement screwed with you the way it did. However, an hour’s worth of thinking made you realise that it was the desire to receive her acceptance that drove you to care about this more than you should. You frustratedly smacked your forehead with your palm repeatedly, loud smacks carrying your confusement and frustration throughout your apartment. 
“Fuck. This band is messing me up…” you sighed. You took a sip of your lukewarm tea and cringed at its unnatural taste. It seems as though the tea was affected by your mood too. You felt the urge to talk to someone about what had happened, and when it came to Yeji, there was only one person that came to mind. 
From Shin Ryujin’s end, you could distinctly hear the sound of her cracking open a beer as you finished the last bit of your recount. 
“Hm…” your bassist mumbled, “I wonder what that could mean…”
You leaned back in your own chair and sighed. “This is bothering me more than it should. Is that weird? Am I weird?”
“Relax man. I think it’s just your nature,” she assured you, “don’t stress over this stuff, it’s alright to care sometimes.”
She belched loudly. You hurried to move the phone away from your ear.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” you muttered.
“Fuck you sideways Squeaker,” Ryujin retorted. She always had a thing for firing back with remarks that were beyond human imagination. “Anyway, thanks for telling me this. I’ll see if I can try to talk to her sister about it. Maybe she knows a thing or two.”
“Y-Yea… Maybe she does,” you echoed, “do you need help arranging a meeting? I can always just go down the hall and ask…”
“Shit. You live down the hall from Yeji?”
“Unfortunately. She moved in last week.”
There was a brief pause from Ryujin’s end. 
“Go get a six pack of beer for me,” she instructed, “I think I’m gonna be paying a house-warming visit.”
She followed you home from school the next night and retrieved the beer from your place. To your surprise, she’d actually bought a house warming gift for the Hwang’s. 
“The beer is simply a formality,” she told you, slinging the tote bag that contained her gift for the Hwangs over her shoulder. “It’s simply the warmer of souls, the pleaser of—”
“Just take the fucking beer and get out,” you told her. She grinned like a cheshire cat, satisfied that she’d managed to annoy you for the day. She went over to the Hwang residence without another word. You were relatively productive that night, burning through a decent amount of readings and completing two of the assignments that were due the next week. 
And then at 11pm, there was a knock on your door. You were lazing on your beanbag by then, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and liking random images of capybaras. 
“Coming,” you muttered lazily. You rose and shuffled to the door. Two unexpected guests stood before you when you pulled the door open. 
“Hello!” Ryujin beamed. Next to her, Yeji grumbled something incoherent.
“W-What the…” you stammered. You were more shocked by Yeji’s presence than anything.
“Yeju wasn’t home,” Ryujin explained, waltzing into your apartment, “Yeji opened the door, I entered, cracked open a few beers, Yeji tried to chase me out, I pulled her out together with me, Yeji forgot her keys, here we are!”
The list of occurrences that tumbled from Ryujin’s mouth was nothing far from confusing. 
“I’m going to wait in front of my door,” Yeji muttered.
As the guitarist turned, Ryujin quickly strode over and grabbed her by the arm. “Nuh-uh.”
She dragged Yeji into your apartment and closed the door with her leg. “Let’s spend the time here! It’s so nice in Squeaker’s place!”
“She’s drunk,” Yeji told you.
“Not drunk! Tipsy!” Ryujin corrected, “if I were drunk, I would be slurring my sentences, but I’m not! Take that bitch!”
Yeji rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”
Ryujin blocked the door with her body. 
“You ain’t going nowhere kitty,” Ryujin smiled.
“Ryujin. Move,” Yeji growled. 
“Or what? What are you gonna do Yeji?” 
Yeji sighed and tried to push your bassist aside. With surprising agility, Ryujin grabbed Yeji’s wrist, pinning it against the wall in a swift movement. 
“W-What the hell! Let me go!” Yeji demanded. Ryujin grinned. 
“Nah-ah,” she replied.
Yeji futilely attempted to wrest herself from Ryujin’s grip. The bassist stayed smirking, catching her friend’s hand as she tried to push her away—Yeji’s other hand was pinned against the wall. 
“Relax kitty,” Ryujin whispered to her, “you’re being a very bad girl.”
“R-Ryujin! Don’t you dare!” Yeji warned. The panic was apparent in her voice. 
That was the first…
 Ryujin's smirk seemed to get even more smug . “Why not? We’ve done it before haven’t we?”
“T-That was a one off! I-I was drunk!” Yeji reasoned. 
Ryujin silenced her with a finger on her lips. “You enjoyed it last time, didn’t you?” 
“R-Ryujin… Please…” Yeji pleaded, “n-not here…”
Ryujin casted a glance in your direction.
“Why? You afraid Squeaker’s gonna let the whole world know about this?” she questioned Yeji. 
“Ryujin…” Yeji tried. 
When Ryujin shoved her knee in between Yeji’s legs, you knew that Yeji’s fate was sealed. You had no idea that Shin Ryujin of all people would be able to tame someone as fierce as Yej—Yet there she was, making the impossible possible.
“Anything else before we go on?” Ryujin questioned. Yeji opened her mouth, then she closed it. 
Yeji shook her head. Ryujin beamed.
“Neat,” your bassist mused, “we’ll have a fun time tonight.”
She was quick to drag Yeji over to the beanbag you were on just minutes ago. Then—rather boldly—Ryujin gripped Yeji’s T-shirt and ripped it right off her. 
“H-Hey!” Yeji cried, arms shooting across her chest to cover her vulnerable areas. “H-He’s right there!” 
“Oh relax, will you?” Ryujin scoffed, “he’s respectful. Isn’t that right Squeaky?” 
You flashed an awkward smile. You hoped that Yeji couldn’t see the tent in your pyjama pants.
“Come over here and help me,” Ryujin requested. 
“I-I… I really don’t think I should,” you reasoned, “I-I don’t think she wants me to touch her…”
“Does that really matter right now?” Ryujin rebutted. 
When you continued to stand there awkwardly, Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Ugh… No fun.”
She tugged Yeji’s shorts down, letting them fall and pool around her ankles. Yeji quickly moved and covered up her private parts. She looked rather uncomfortable.
“Ryujin,” you cautioned your bassist, “I-I don’t think we should—”
“I don’t need you being a wet blanket right now,” she chided, “if you aren’t joining, just sit out and watch.”
Every fibre of your body was urging you to just walk over right there and then. However, your conscience told you that doing so wouldn’t be wise. When Ryujin saw that you still remained in your spot, she scoffed. “Lame…”
She pushed Yeji down onto the beanbag. Yeji yelped as she fell into it, a gasp quickly following up as Ryujin fell atop of her.  Ryujin manoeuvred around Yeji’s body to remove the bra from her body. She succeeded and threw it away. In a flash, Ryujin herself was topless, her clothes adding on to the growing pile next to the beanbag. Her lips found Yeji’s, a sloppy makeout session ensuing.
Ryuin continued to assert her dominance over Yeji. Her right hand slowly made its way downward, until it reached the waistband of the simple, white panties Yeji wore. Spending not more than a second or two there, she reached further. The tips of her slim fingers quested below the thin cotton. When they reached a certain point, the gasps and soft sounds escaping Yeji’s lips cleared for a full moan of pleasure as Ryujin’s fingertips finally reached her most intimate parts. The moment that moan left Yeji’s mouth, you could see the smirk on Ryujin’s face grow wider. It was like she’d found a treasure.
From then, Ryujin refused to cease her assault on the guitarist’s body. Her left hand slid down the waistband of Yeji’s panties until the thin, tiny slip of fabric was halfway down the guitarist’s hips, giving her more than enough access to Yeji’s slick heat. You watched as Ryujin’s middle finger disappeared between Yeji’s legs. The rest of her hand covered your view—But the look on Yeji’s pleasure-stricken face told you all you needed to know regarding what that middle finger was doing.
“Look how fucking hot she is,” Ryujin said, her words dripping with lust, “she’s so fucking wet.”
Yehi let her loudest moan yet escape her lips. The sudden thrust and twist of Ryujin’s wrist tells you that she had penetrated the other girl with her fingers. Yeji’s legs close around her friend’s hand. 
“Fuck… Just as tight as the last time,” Ryujin smirked.
You found yourself squirming in place as your shaft continued to strain painfully against your pants. 
“I think you’ll like fucking her,” Ryujin stated, her voice taking on a softer tone, “She’ll be tight and wet for you… I bet you’d cum so quickly… A fucking shame that you’re choosing to miss out on this.”
Ryujin’s ring finger slipped between Yeji’s legs. You knew full well it had joined her middle finger inside Yeji’s body. Yeji’s legs seemed to have turned to jelly. Ryujin’s body covers Yeji’s bare skin, so you let your gaze roam up Ryujin’s toned back. And there, just to the left of Ryujin’s well shaped shoulders, you saw a pink nub rise and fall with each of Yeji’s laboured breaths.
Pink nipples—Yeji had pink nipples.
Yeji’s features—Usually fierce and full of anger—were twisted, wracked and contorted—Pleasure and lust coursed through her system, making her squirm beneath her friend. Her eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, stared up at the ceiling. Her mouth formed a perfect “O” as wordless sounds of pleasure left her lips.
“So tight… And she’s fucking drenched… Little slut,” Ryujin hissed. 
It all quickly becomes too much for the guitarist to handle. The pleasure of it all… It threatened to overwhelm her senses.
“Ryujin, I… Ryujin—” Yeji said quickly, as though she was barely able to form the words, “I’m going to…”
“You like being fingered? You like how I mess up your insides, don’t you Yeji?”
The guitarist’s only response was a long, passionate moan. She was suddenly unable to form words with her mouth. Every sound that escaped her was a moan of pleasure or a noise of the sort. It was like her brain had shut off, the pleasure in her system pushing the ability to think right out of her being.
“Do you like my fingers? Do you like getting finger fucked Yeji?”
Yeji squirmed. Her eyes shut as she moaned softly. It was like she was suddenly ashamed of how quickly and completely she had allowed Yeji to dominate her body and manipulate it to her liking. Ryujin moved her left hand to cup Yeji’s left breast, the index finger and thumb capturing her exposed, hardened nipple and giving it a soft squeeze. 
“Fucking cum Yeji.”
On cue, Yeji let out a scream. Her legs spasmed as an orgasm wracked her body. For several long seconds, Yeji writhes in pleasure beneath the bassist.  Ryujin turned and smiled devilishly at you. It was as if she was asking you whether you liked the little show she had just given you. She rose, leaving Yeji’s sweaty, heaving body on your bean bag as she strutted over. 
“I feel generous tonight,” she told you. Her hand grips your chin, tearing your gaze away from the guitarist before you can even take in her body. 
“Your table should hold my weight, right?” she asked. You nodded numbly. Wordlessly, she saunters over and clears a space for her to sit. Swiftly, she undid the belt that held up her baggy jeans, letting the denim fall off her slender legs. Her panties were off even quicker. 
You smiled devilishly as you undid your own pants and took your cock in one hand. You approached Ryujin, placing your shaft on Ryujin’s wanton pussy and dragging the head up and down her moist, dripping lips. 
Ryujin licked her lips. “She’s watching. Let’s give her a show, shall we?”
Grasping Ryujin’s legs, you raised them so that her calves were on your shoulders. Reaching down and placing your tip at her opening, you slowly pushed inside her. Entering Ryujin elicited a deep, lustful moan from her. You hear a soft set of footsteps approaching from behind. Yeji walked up next to the two of you. She knelt down, eyes glued on your cock that was buried inside her friend.
“T-Tell me how he feels,” Yeji requested.
“Fuck…” Ryujin gasped, unable to answer as you filled her completely. Your hips now touch her soaked, hot crotch as you bottomed out inside her heat. She savoured the feeling of being filled by you once more.
“He’s so big, Yeji,” Ryujin hissed, not taking her eyes away from yours, “he’s so big and thick and he’s fucking stretching me out… I think—”
Her moan cuts through her sentence. You’d cut short Ryujin’s descriptions as you began to move. Slowly, you drew your cock out from her tightly gripping pussy for the first time, savouring the feel of her lips wrapped tightly around your hard shaft as it tried to pull you back into her. You heard Yeji gasp at the sight of your cock drenched in slick, thick pussy juices. 
You drove back into Ryujin. Before long, you’ve settled into a slow but steady rhythm. You took your time, letting Yeji have a long glimpse of your cock as it appeared from between Ryujin’s glistening pussy before disappearing once more into the girl’s tight body. Ryujin was quickly reduced to a quivering, moaning mess as you fucked her. Gone was the girl that dominated Yeji just minutes before.
Her hands gripped the edge of your table with knuckle white grips, her mind and body relishing every thrust you made into her body. Words, cusses, moans… They spilled freely from her lips. 
“Oh, fuck! Fuck me just like that… Fuck me slow… Make me… Feel… Every inch of you! He’s so big, Yeji! He feels so fucking good inside me!”
You tore your gaze from Ryuin’s writhing body.  Yeji had begun to work her hand between her milky legs, her left hand clutching her right breast. You watched eagerly as she captured the pinkness of her nipples between her index and middle finger, delivering a small amount of pressure to the perky nubs.
With a foreign tone of lust, she drawled. “Fuck her… Fuck her harder…”
You grinned as the girl finally give into her desires. Her pleasure must’ve been heightened as she watched the erotic scene play out in front of her. You grasped Ryujin’s thighs and speared yourself deeper and deeper into the girl, using her long limbs as leverage to make each thrust harder than the last.
For long minutes, you fucked her like that. Her toned, slim body rocked back and forth helplessly on the table, her round breasts bouncing wantonly with each impact of your hips into her hot body..
“Oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me harder… As hard as you want! O-Oh! Fuck YES!”
Ryujin is more than happy to let you have your way with her body. You knew from all the time you’d spent with her that she was more than comfortable with rough sex. Unreserved, you let loose and began o truly fuck her the way she wanted, the way she yearned, the way she loved to be fucked. 
Pounded. That was it—Shin Ryujin loved getting pounded.
You let her legs fall from your shoulders. You spread her thighs, a palm on each one before forcing her onto her left side. Keeping her right leg in the air, you continued to fuck her, giving Yeji the perfect view of your cock as it slid in and out of her friend’s pussy.
The new position drives Ryujin mad. Your first few thrusts into her wet, tight pussy were your indication. Her moans and gasps continued, higher in pitch and louder in volume as you drove deeper and faster into her pussy. The wet, slick sounds of her juices and the wet flesh around your cock reverberates through the apartment as you continued to fuck the mewling, moaning girl. Between her splayed lips, you could feel the heat radiating from her core surrounding your shaft.
“Oh god, Yeji he’s… he’s so big inside me. He’s fucking me so good!”
“How… how does your pussy f-feel, Ryujin?”
“It feels… So good… So full of his cock… M-Mmmmph… I’m so fucking wet! I'm gonna... I'm gonna...”
It was all quickly becoming too much to handle—Watching Yeji be used and Yeji watching you use her friend. Your own peak was rapidly approaching.
“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop fucking me!” Ryujin cried. “Mmmm, I’m getting close!”
“I… I’m cumming!” you heard. The voice was not from Ryuin, but from Yeji. The guitarist was a squirming mess on her knees, her body wracked with spasms as she orgasmed. You tore your gaze from Ryujin to watch as Yeji quivered and shook in her place, her hand working busily between her thighs as the rest of her body straightened involuntarily in pleasure.
“Ohh.. oh, I’m cumming!” Ryujin exclaimed. She took your attention back once again. Her pussy pulsated, squeezing you tightly—The signal of her impending orgasm.
“Where—”
“Inside me!” she answered, cutting you off, “inside me, please! Fill me… Fill me with your cum!”
She came first. The tightening of her spasming pussy around your shaft quickly drove you to orgasm as well. Burying yourself as deep as you can within her hot, slick pussy, you erupted.
Your cock sent stream after stream of thick, hot semen into her body. She tightened around you, squeezing your cock tightly and milking you of every drop. You let yourself savour every second of it, the feel of Ryujin’s body wrapped around you, the feel of her wet walls being painted with cum, the sound of her and Yeji’s moans filling your ears. You were certain that this was paradise.
You stood there exhausted. Soon you finally slipped out of her body with a slick pop. Ryujin turned onto her back, too exhausted to do anything further. White, thick liquid oozes between the splayed lips of her freshly fucked pussy, before a thick stream began to flow from her body onto her flushed thighs and your table.
“Oh fuck…” Ryujin heaved, “that… That was fucking hot…”
She let her legs dangle off the table, keeping them spread as she looked over to her friend on her knees. “Come here and clean me up Yeji.”
The girl eagerly rose from her knees and knelt back down in front of Ryujin’s still spread legs. She doesn’t waste any time, diving in and licking the thick white cum that flowed from your bassist’s pussy like it was a delicacy. Ryujin hummed softly, basking in the pleasure at the feel of Yeji’s tongue attacking her still sensitive lips. When Ryujin had enough, she pushed Yeji’s head away. You swore you saw a hint of disappointment on Yeji’s face.
She slid off the desk. You caught her, holding her steady as she found her footing on her jelly-like legs. 
“Shit… I need to sleep,” she muttered, “Squeaker, carry me to your bed, will you?” 
You complied. You laid her down on your mattress as gingerly as you could, making sure to pull the covers over her nude body. Then, you went over to your cupboard and pulled out a shirt.
“Where… Are you going?” Ryujin asked as you were about to head out.
“I’m just passing this to Yeji,” you told her, “she’ll need this.”
Ryujin hummed and turned on her side. “Sleep next to me when you come back.”
You walked out. Yeji had put her bra and shorts back on and was gathering what was left of her shirt.
“H-Hey,” you called. You walked over and handed the shirt to her. “You’ll need to cover up. H-Have this.”
Yeji stared at the shirt for a moment. It was one of those old anime shirts you picked up from the thrift store. It would definitely be baggy on Yeji’s small frame, but it was all you could really offer her. 
You thought that she’d smack your hand away and tell you to fuck off or something. To your surprise—and some delight—she gingerly took the shirt from you. Wordlessly, she slipped it on. 
“Thanks,” she voiced, “I’ll go now.”
You walked her to the door and opened it for her. “I-Is Yeju back to open the door?”
“S-She should be,” Yeji replied.
“R-Right then… H-Have a good night,” you wished her. She looked at you for a moment. You were certain she was going to call you a slur.
“G-Good night,” she wished back, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow for practice...”
Yeji hugged herself and hurried down the hall. You figured that the embarrassment had made her act like this. Tomorrow, she’d go back to cussing you out like a sailor.
You returned to your room after locking up. Ryujin had fallen fast asleep by then, snoring rather loudly as you silently slipped into the space next to her. 
***
“You think she’ll be awkward when she sees us?” Ryujin asked as the two of you got off the bus. 
“She’ll be fine with you, but she’s gonna kill me,” you muttered. 
Ryujin cackled. “Ah… So this whole thing is no longer my problem!”
You shot her a glare.
“You were the one that initiated things. It still is your problem,” you told her.
“Hey. You both enjoyed it didn’t you?” she smirked. 
“That doesn’t negate the fact that you started the whole thing!” you argued.
“What are you guys getting so heated over?” 
You turned. Kim Chaewon gazed at the both of you, a blank expression on her face. 
“Oh. Hey Chaewon,” Ryujin waved, “we were just having friendly banter. We aren’t gonna kill each other if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Chaewon gazed intently at Ryujin for a moment, then transferred her gaze back to you. “So I was that forgettable huh?”
You blinked. “W-What?”
“You’ve already moved on, haven’t you?” Chaewon questioned, “getting yourself involved in a band with a bunch of girls like I was never important. You’re fucking disgusting.”
Chaewon shoulder-checked you as she walked past, making sure to let her trumpet case strike your shin as well. You winced, a sharp pain shooting up your leg. 
“Fuck,” you hissed. Ryujin quickly held onto you.
“That girl is psycho,” she told you. 
“Bratty is a better word,” you replied, “please don’t tell me she’s gonna join the band…”
Ryujin pursed her lips. “Well… Judging from the fact that she has her trumpet case with her on a Friday—I’d say that Eunbi managed to get through to her.”
“Christ on a fucking pike,” you sighed, “Yeji was enough for me to handle already…”
The pain was slowly fading now. You tapped Ryujin’s shoulder. “I think I can walk this off,”
Your bassist let go of you, letting you walk forward on your own for a bit before jogging up to you.
“Chin up Squeaker,” she assured you, “I’m sure that there’s a way to achieve peace in our band.”
You sure as hell hoped so. If not—you were in for one hell of a ride.
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