Oh Sheng, I’ve been saving this conversation for exactly when I needed it. This is hella cathartic - I really do have a helluva lot going on right now. Am I gonna spend gems on continuing to rip you? You bet I am!…..
Wait, WAIT!!….Of all the times to level up I was on a roll! What were we saying? HELL YEAH YOU MESSED UP.
I do feel slightly better now despite the interruption
“I’m not even sure I want to be with Marco anymore.”
The words hang in the air, Taylor’s eyes never leaving your face. The way he scrunches his nose at the words makes your face hot. Had he always watched you with such intent, such complete focus? And had those eyes on you always made your stomach clench in excitement?
Taylor reaches out a hand and you take it, looking down at your interlocked fingers as nervous words bubble up to the surface.
“I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought we were doing the right thing. But that man in there… that’s not the Marco I know.”
Your breath hitches as tears start to roll down your cheeks. Taylor doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull your head into the crook of his neck. As his arms tighten around you, air fills your lungs fully for the first time since you entered that dreaded banquet hall to start that disaster of a rehearsal dinner. A sense of safety, something not unfamiliar in Taylor’s touch, warms you against the cold of the night.
With a soft shush from his lips, Taylor adds, breathing his words into your hair, “That’s not the Marco I know, either.”
“He was passive-aggressive and cold. And every time he snapped at Sally, all I kept thinking is how can I be sure he wouldn’t treat me the exact same way.”
You feel Taylor’s sigh more than you can hear it. His entire body seems to sink into yours, the weight of your words getting to him, too.
After a moment, you rub your eyes and look up at Taylor, resolved.
“I can’t waste any more of my life being second-best.”
“You aren’t second-best, Y/N,” Taylor whispers, not meeting your eyes.
A little laugh escapes your lips, “What? Am I third best, then? Because I can promise you, Marco has picked Sally at every turn.”
“I’m done talking about him,” Taylor says, his eyes now transfixed to your gaze.
It takes a moment of blinking for Taylor’s words to sink in.
“What are you saying?”
You hardly finish the question before Taylor’s fingers are tight on your forearms and your mouth is pulled to his. His kiss is hard, as though he’s more interested in claiming your mouth than exploring its depths. And after the initial shock wears off, you melt into his hold. And the movement of your lips spurs on something in him, two people seeking each other with such earnestness that no kiss would ever be enough.
Suddenly so much makes sense, yet your brain is a fog. All the ways those touches on your fake dates felt as natural as breathing. The way you both sought comfort in the arms of the other the instant your plans went awry. The way you always felt the need to defend Taylor to Marco, as though he were your best friend, not that of the man on the other end of the phone. For how many not-dates had faking been nothing of the sort? And for how much longer could you keep up the rouse? You reach up to weave your fingers through his hair as his hands crest down the curve of your back, but your movement is stopped short by the harsh exhale of your name.
You stagger away from Taylor to see Marco, his hand in his hair and his expression completely crestfallen.
“Y/N, Taylor, I—“ he cuts himself off with a harsh kick of the dirt.
“What’s—“ Taylor starts a question, clearly seeing his friend’s distress, but Marco dismisses it with a wave of the hand.
“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Enjoy your night, you two.” And with a long close of his eyes, Marco turns and heads back into the reception hall, into the grave he dug so swiftly for himself.
You look up into Taylor’s eyes, trying to parse just what happened and how much you should care.
“It’s been a long night,” Taylor says with a hesitant smile, “Let’s get out of here.”
——-
The following morning, Taylor is making his coffee, his head reeling as to how to approach the day. His best friend is about to make the biggest mistake of his life and while Taylor couldn’t say anymore that he desired Sally — her horrible attitude and complete abuse of his friendship over the past few weeks had seen to killing those feelings entirely — he did still wish for the two most important people in his life to stop before they brought themselves any more pain.
He caught himself partway through his thoughts. Maybe Sally and Marco weren’t the only people who mattered in his life anymore. He could say for certain a third person was carving their way onto that podium and he wasn’t the least bit upset about it.
Just as his coffee finished brewing, the buzzer for his front door went off. Not expecting anyone, Taylor peered through the door, and, upon seeing that it was Marco, still in his suit from the night before, he opened the door. His friend wouldn’t mind him shirtless and still sporting his unkempt bed hair.
“Sorry to barge in so early, but—“ Marco tilts his head up and takes a deep breath. “Is that coffee? God, I need some coffee.”
Taylor smiles reassuringly at his best friend. Clearly, Marco had had a rough night and after all the scheming Taylor had done up to this point, today he realized he was done. All he wanted to do was be a friend.
“Coming right up, boss. Make yourself at home and I’ll bring us both some cups.”
Taylor darts into the kitchen, thankful he already brewed enough for two and returns to the living room to find Marco standing in the middle of the room, starring down at your purse still seated on the coffee table.
Marco’s face says it all. He really has fallen in love with you.
“Why do you have Y/N’s purse?” Marco says, his voice loud with the panic that is clearly going through his mind.
But instead of pride in his plan working, Marco’s panic only makes Taylor angry. He drops the coffee mugs on the table and turns to his friend.
“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake her.”
“She’s still here?” Marco practically yells, shrill and possessive. Taylor’s blood boils.
“Yes, Marco. My girlfriend spent the night. Why does it sound like you have a problem with that?”
“I—“ Marco lets out a loud huff, clearly unable to answer the question without incriminating himself.
Finally, Marco finds the words to speak, “I guess I just didn’t realize you two had gotten to that point already.”
“You know,” Taylor says, a spring in his voice as he sits down with his coffee, “If you had actually asked me once in the past month how my relationship was going, you’d have known.”
Marco takes the return to civility in stride. He grabs his coffee and joins Taylor on the couch.
“You’re right. I’ve been a shit friend. I asked Y/N once and she only had to say a couple sentences before I realized—“ Marco stops again, but Taylor knows what he was going to say. Marco didn’t ask because he didn’t want to know. The less he knew, the less real their relationship was. And the less real it was, the easier it was to imagine a future where it didn’t even exist.
“You can just say it, Marco. I know you’re in love with her.”
“Not anymore,” Marco says into his cup, “We called off the wedding this morning.”
Taylor feels a pit hit his stomach but not in a good way. He thought those words would bring him joy, that he’d find Sally at his door, confessing her love and jumping into his arms, but now that idea makes him sick. He doesn’t want any woman who could hurt his best friend so deeply, so intentionally and selfishly. He doesn’t want the woman who strung him along for the better part of a decade. He doesn’t want the woman who threw a fit last night at the mere sight of him happy. No, he wants the woman currently in his bed, who’s soft breath warmed his neck last night, and whose kindness and compassion has been there from day one. He wants the woman who still was willing to be his friend after he spent an entire first date doing everything her could to push her away, despite how beautiful and brilliant she was, how perfectly his type in every way other than that she wasn’t Marco’s fiancée. He wants a fresh start. And he wants that all with you.
“I wasn’t talking about Sally, Marco.”
As if answering the unspoken question in the air, Taylor hears the sound of footsteps coming down his stairs.
“Taylor, why are you up so early?” your voice rings out before he can see you. The sleepiness in your timbre makes him smile. Extracting himself from your warm embrace this morning had been trying, but he did it, all in hopes of making you smile.
“I was trying to make you coffee, but Marco got to it first.”
You turn the corner at the tail end of Taylor’s sentence and upon seeing the two men together in the living room, you stagger back. And Taylor takes that extra moment to take in the sight of you. Your eyes still have sleep in the corners and your hair needs some attention, but Taylor doesn’t care. All his eyes can see is his t-shirt that you’re wearing like a dress and the faint hint of the lace of your underwear peeking out underneath. It’s more beautiful than any fancy gown or sultry party outfit. It’s sexy and intoxicating and screaming, “mine,” at Taylor in a way he didn’t know he needed. You, choosing him, choosing his clothes, choosing to greet him in your underwear, it’s the kind of intimacy he longed for. It’s the kind of morning he always imagined but never thought would be his reality.
“I didn’t realize—“ you say, starting to turn back up the stairs, but Marco takes the last swig of his coffee and stands.
“Don’t ruin your perfect morning together on my part. I just came by to tell Taylor that the wedding is off. No need to rush to get dressed or anything this morning. Just… enjoy your day.”
“Marco…” you say with a frown, and Taylor can’t help but smile at you. Even after all the bullshit this man has put you through, you still manage another ounce of compassion.
“I’ll be fine, Y/N. You were right. This has been a long time coming.”
Marco stands and pulls Taylor into a hug. While he’s holding him close, he whispers in his ear, “Please promise me you’ll take care of her. Love her.”
“I’ll try,” Taylor tells his friend.
“Just try harder than I did.” And with that Marco heads out.
As the sound of the door shutting reverberates through the house, Taylor turns to you. He slowly wraps an arm around your waist like he’s done it a million times, through the thrill it gives him still feels brand new.
“I’m really worried about him, Taylor,” you say, biting on your bottom lip.
“So am I. It’s going to be a hard few weeks for him but we both know this is for the best.”
“I don’t mean about the wedding. He seemed really shaken up to see me here,” you look down at your feet, but Taylor catches your chin in his hands and tilts it up.
“Hey, do you think they ever spent a second thinking how their actions made us feel? Don’t you think we deserve to spend some time focusing on our own happiness? Everything for the past few months has been about their feelings but what about ours? And I know I feel something for you. Something much stronger than I think I was willing to admit until last night, but something I want to hold close. They’ll be okay. But they both need to spend a little bit of time not relying on me or you to make them feel good. They need to figure out how to do that on their own.”
You nod and bury your face in Taylor’s shoulder, squeezing him tight. After a moment, you pull away and look up to meet his gaze. Taylor responds with a sweet, simple kiss.
“I guess that dress I bought is a total waste now,” you frown, “I was kind of looking forward to glamming it up.”
“It doesn’t have to be a waste. Dinner tonight. Downtown. My treat.”
You laugh and grab the sides of Taylor’s face. “I doubt you could find a restaurant on such short notice where my floor-length ballgown would not be totally out of place.”
Taylor pulls you with him into the kitchen as he hums in agreement.
“Okay, then. There’s this gala event next week for the Museum of Natural History. Would totally work for that, if you’d like to be my date.”
You lean against the counter and raise your eyebrow at Taylor.
“Don’t you usually take Sally to museum events?”
“So?” Taylor asks as he begins brewing more coffee, “You’re my girlfriend.”
This blog is officially ACTIVE. And I couldn’t be more excited to getting back to writing for pleasure.
As many of you know, a few years ago I took a leap into writing professionally and now I am a full-time interactive fiction narrative designer, writer, and editor. While I adore my job, I also spend most of my time writing things based on storylines designed by others, few things solely of my own invention. And writing begets more writing. The more you do it, the more you want to do it, the more you are stimulated by the act itself. And so, even though my writing schedule is more busy than ever, I need to counter it with writing that is strictly for fun, otherwise I am going to burn out completely.
So thanks for your patience on this journey. I am SO THRILLED to celebrate with you.
To celebrate, we’re going to do some stories based on prompts and add some new fandoms to the mix.
(yes, the good place gifs are back)
The Rules:
Must be following me(@ardentmuse)
Must submit mean ask with a number of a prompt and a character
Mustlike this post
Please reblog, but this isn’t required :)
Onlyone submission per person, please!
Block “#ardentmuse welcome back” if you don’t want to see these for whatever reason (though some of my best work comes from prompts)
Each ask will become a reader-insert imagine. Aiming for ~1k words for each of these, but we’ll see where the spirits take me.
Note that these will be slower than my previous turn around on these. My goal is one per day, to be cut off in ~3 weeks, so it is likely I won’t get to every prompt. I’ll do my best.
Character list and prompt list below the cut.
Hugs, Lia
Characters:
Note: all responses will be reader inserts (no x ships). Also, this list is off the top of my head so if I missed anyone that you really want to see, let me know.
*Bold represents characters I am absolutely in love with writing at the moment, so those requests would make me so happy
Harry Potter:
Bill Weasley
Charlie Weasley
Percy Weasley
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Ron Weasley
Harry Potter
Neville Longbottom
Draco Malfoy
Cedric Diggory
Oliver Wood
Severus Snape
Sirius Black
James Potter
Remus Lupin
HPHM:
Bill Weasley
Charlie Weasley
Talbott Winger
Barnaby Lee
Murphy McNully
Orion Amari
Andre Egwu
Jae Kim
Diego Caplan
ASOIAF / Game of Thrones:
Ned Stark
Robb Stark
Jon Snow
Bran Stark
Tyrion Lannister
Jaime Lannister
Robert Baratheon
Stannis Baratheon
Theon Greyjoy
Gendry (Waters)
Podrick Payne
Sandor Clegane
Petyr Baelish
Kingsman:
Harry Hart
Merlin (Hamish Mycroft)
Eggsy Unwin
Tequila
Whiskey (Jack Daniels)
James Spenser (Lancelot)
Love Island: The Game:
Jake Wilson
Bobby McKenzie
Gary Rennell
Henrik
Lucas Koh
Ibrahim
Noah
Bruno
Will
Lovelink:
Antoine Dawson / Noah Cruz
Brett O’Hara
Cianán Ó Faoláin
Dr. Vile
Jay Perry
Gabe Scott
Garrett Brown / Rory O´Brien
Hugo Hornsby / Marco Bottazzi
Taylor(Hugo / Marco’s route)
Nicholas Adley
Nick Klaus
Nori Cove
River Nightshade
Salvatore Luciano
The Prompts from Futurama:
Good news, everyone.
At the risk of sounding negative, no.
I love Y/N, always and forever.
This is it. The moment we should have trained for.
For a split second, my common sense was overwhelmed by pity.
I never even told her I loved her.
Well, you obviously won’t listen to reason.
It’s when women are polite to each other you know there’s a problem.
…plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing.
When you look this good, you don’t have to know anything.
Hey, sexy mama.
This is the worst kind of discrimination. The kind against me.
Thank you all for the inspiring advice, but I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.
Life is about decisions.
Oh wait, you’re serious.
You leave me breathless.
Everyone, I have a very dramatic announcement.
We can all fight when we’re drunk.
It’s all so complicated with the flowers and the romance and the lies upon lies.
I’m feeling a strange new emotion I have never felt before.
You lost the woman of your dreams but you still have [xxxx].
Let’s knock this up a notch!
Gimme your biggest, strongest, cheapest drink!
I know who you are. You’re the woman I’ve waited for my entire life.
You know what cheers me up? Other people’s misfortune.
I really ought to do something but I am already in my pajamas.
Valentine’s Day is coming up?
I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.
Of course I’m being irrational, I’m in love!
Let’s get the hell out of here already!
What the hell is that thing?
You know, someone ought to teach you a lesson.
You should say something else.
It really makes me happy to see you right now.
What kind of party is this?
I can explain.
But of everyone I ever dated, you’re probably in the top ten.
It’s been quite a journey.
What a thoughtful and considerate thing for you to say.
Look, I know it’s not much consolation. But, I understand how you feel.
So it looks like Dr Vile will be back soon on Lovelink. I’ve been working on this, so let’s see if it resembles what Ludia have planned!
A/N Fluff and Sci Fi - but remember things will get smutty, so No under 18s
To the Moon and Back
Three days after your encounter in the gym, news comes that the planned landing has been postponed after a serious malfunction in the Space Station’s orbital software. It brings into question the whole mission, and the landing is only one of a number of projects that have to be shelved. Of course, it is Vile’s interference that has caused it all, and you can stop worrying about your presence on the moon being detected. Your relationship eases and you are more sure of his affection. After your gym workout, you spend some time in the Agridome, checking on seedlings until you realise you’re hungry. You’ve become engrossed in your task just like Vile has, though to a much lesser degree.
‘Is dinner ready?’ you ask, and the slightly haughty female voice of the AI answers.
‘Dinner will be served in ten minutes in the dining room.’
‘Change that. Turn over control to my personal drone and send the trolley to me when it’s ready.’ There is a pause before the answer comes.
‘Rescheduling.’ The system shouldn’t be incapable of irritation, or is it your imagination that the tone is sulky? Tales of AI systems gaining autonomy and sentience niggle at the edge of consciousness. You shrug it off and go to a sanitation station to clean your hands with soap, water and a UV beam and peel off your working overalls. A waiting drone takes the garment away for cleaning. You had considered dressing for dinner, but decide your everyday clothes are more appropriate for the lab.
You check to make sure Vile doesn’t have extra bio measures in force to enter beyond the usual scan to check for viruses or pathogens. The environment of the base is sterile apart from the two biological units – yourself and Vile – who inhabit it. You are both walking packages of biological, viral and bacterial contamination and there are whole areas you can’t enter without hazmat suits. The lab Vile is working in at the moment is the lowest risk level. As you walk along the corridor the serving trolley follows you.
‘What’s on the menu, Ron?’ You use your pet name for your personal drone.
‘Lab grown beef, noodles with seasonal vegetable stir fry, followed by fruit compote with oats, Lucy.’ You don’t need to ask what the veg are for the stir fry, having supervised the harvest. You also know you won’t be served anything you don’t like unless it’s something the AI’s nutritional programme thinks is vital for your wellbeing. Any waste goes to compost to feed the soil based crop. Most plants are grown hydroponically due to the scarcity of soil, which has to be flown out from Earth on supply flights.
You pause inside the frame that scans you for contaminants and get the all clear. You enter, gratified that Vile hasn’t locked the door against you. He sits in deep contemplation in front of a monitor that shows a readout from the Hadron Collider, and looks up at you as you approach. Running his fingers through his hair, he pushes his chair away from the desk and turns to greet you.
‘Well timed, my dear.’ He rises to put his hand to your shoulder and kiss you on the cheek. ‘I was just setting up an experiment on the Collider. It won’t come up with any data until the morning, so I’m all yours.’
‘You were going to show me what you’re working on.’ He frowns.
‘That would take a while, so let’s start eating and I’ll explain some of it.’ He makes a gesture and a tabletop flips out from a side wall. He rolls his chair up to it and motions you to sit. ‘Let me serve you, my dear.’ You restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. He’s being attentive, not chauvinistic, and the gesture is welcome, so you wait while he takes the dishes from the trolley. He could have left it to the drones, and you like that he’s not depending on them as much as when you met. He claimed it was so he could concentrate on his work, but perhaps your presence changes things a little.
Soon the food is sitting before you and he brings another chair to the table. He talks animatedly as he eats, telling you of the soil and hydroponic experiments, and explains what he hopes to do with the particles from the collider. You listen, asking questions from time to time, and his shadowed eyes glitter with enthusiasm. You finish the main course and go on to dessert, by which time the stream of information has slowed and you see him savouring his food.
‘So you said we need to go back to Earth. Why? Is it for our health or are there things you need to do at one of your other bases?’
‘A bit of both. We can’t stay out here indefinitely, or we’d eventually find it very difficult to cope with what we perceive as normal gravity. We’re living experiments in space colonisation, so I need to run tests back on the ground.’
‘I don’t hear you saying much about world domination.’ You point out, and his expression changes to one of enthusiasm.
‘Why stop at the Earth? There is so much to learn from surviving offworld. This is an excellent jumping off point for other planets.’ Your eyes widen.
‘Mars?’ you ask, and he chuckles.
‘Why not further?’ He leans closer, his voice dropping. ‘The secret to it all is in space vehicle propulsion. Time is a vital factor in the equation. It takes months to get to Mars, but the solar system is scattered with asteroids and moons for mineral exploitation or colonisation. Imagine being able to go to the outer reaches in mere weeks instead of years.’ You frown.
‘Surely that’s more than a lifetime’s work? How can you hope to do so much?’ He deflates a little.
‘You’ve found the flaw in my plans. Yet another line of research might be the prolongation of life, or instantaneous travel. Perhaps our consciousness might be uploaded to androids.’ He rubs his forehead. You feel your stomach clench. Is his ambition driving him too hard? Is he in control of his senses? He sits back, sighing.
‘I know, I know. So much to consider and I have limited time and resources.’ He looks up at you. ‘You keep me grounded, Lucy. I realise I need to focus on something achievable. What are your thoughts?’
‘My thoughts are that you can’t do it alone. Why not collaborate with other scientists? You’re working across so many disciplines, why not pass on your work to specialists?’
‘You know my feelings on the matter. Sooner or later it will fall into the hands of the military.’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should stop working. What fires you, James? What makes you feel excited? What do you think about when you get up in the morning?’ you ask, but he shakes his head.
‘No one thing at the moment. There are too many possibilities.’
‘Then you need to take a step back. Carry on with whatever needs to be monitored or finished, take a break and come back with a fresh mind.’ He laughs at your suggestion.
‘Is this your way of saying we should go on vacation?’ You shrug.
‘’It’s an idea. After all, we need to go back to Earth. Aren’t you tired of the restrictions here? Don’t you want to feel the fresh air in your lungs, the sun on your skin? I know I do.’ He pushes away his empty dessert plate and drones start to clear the dishes away.
‘Hmm, I do have some housekeeping to do on my main base, but a vacation would kill two birds with one stone. We’ll need to rest and build our strength up, so a stay on my private island would be ideal.’ You smile eagerly, the prospect of returning to Earth finally seeming a step closer.
‘What will it feel like going back? Is it as bad as leaving?’
‘Going back through Earth’s atmosphere means one does have to suffer multiple G forces, but the re-entry module has a rocket system that makes sure of a relatively soft landing.’
‘Do we still use a parachute? Will we land on water?’ Vile chuckles at your barrage of questions.
‘Yes, we will deploy parachutes to begin the deceleration process, and as we’re returning to my private island we’ll be landing on a platform nearby and taking a boat to shore.’
‘It must be dangerous. There won’t be anyone to help us if anything goes wrong.’ Your stomach churns at the thought of relying on machines and drones for your survival.
‘What is life without risk? If everything was planned out and totally safe, how dull it would be. Rest assured the risk is as low as I can make it.’ He places his hand on yours. ‘We’ll have the strength to readjust to full gravity quickly, unlike the astronauts on the Space Station. The platform we land on has facilities for a short stay if necessary, and of course there’s a full fleet of drones waiting for any eventuality.’
‘When will we go?’
‘In a few days – maybe three or four, while I finish couple of projects and set a couple of other experiments running. You can help with a few tasks, and before you know it, we’ll be under the sun without the need for a space suit.’
——-
The next few days are a blur of preparation punctuated with exercise, mealtimes and valuable sleep. At last you are ready to leave the base and enter the space vehicle – Vile’s Space Vehicle or VSV - that will take you back ‘home’, for home now embraces the whole planet and wherever Vile takes you. The unit features a rocket system that will lift you from the gentle pull of the Moon and set you down safely on Earth.
Vile helps you strap into your seat before following suit. You both wear tailored helmeted spacesuits plugged into the VSV atmospheric system but with independent air tanks that will keep you alive should there be any problems along the way. The journey will only take a few hours, with a brief acceleration from your starting point, a swift passage to a partial orbit around the Earth before the potentially brutal re-entry into the atmosphere.
‘Are you ready, my dear?’
‘As ready as I can be. This part won’t be too bad, will it?’
‘No, we don’t have to work so hard to escape the gravitational pull. When we reach Earth’s atmosphere it will be just as harsh as lift-off, I’m afraid.’ He’s already told you that the oxygen mix in your suit will get richer to cope with the added difficulty in breathing, and the drugs you took with breakfast will help prevent blood clots and other potentially dangerous body reactions.
‘You think of everything, James.’
‘I try to.’ He flicks a few switches on the panel in front of him. Unlike the old space vehicles that first brought Man beyond the blue marble of your home planet, the controls are sparse and relatively simple, as Vile prefers. Not long ago it would have taken some three days to travel back, but his propulsion system outstrips anything the best brains of the scientific community can manage. He guards his secrets jealously, but you still hope you can persuade him to share his achievements for the good of mankind.
When you first met him, he was determined to rule the world as a despot, but under your influence that is softening and his aims are more benevolent. Who knows what he will achieve with you by his side? When he first proposed you visiting his moon base he had meant for you to live there permanently, thinking that he couldn’t trust you to return to Earth with his secrets. Now he’s keen to keep you close and has told you he couldn’t think of life without you. He’s not given to expressions of affection but is thoughtful and attentive when not engrossed in his work. It’s a solitary life that gives you time and space for your own interests, and you lack for nothing save for other human contact.
‘Lift off in ten.’ His words interrupt your reverie, and despite his reassurance you grip the armrests of your seat in anticipation. A stray piece of rock might puncture the capsule or damage the propulsion system, there might be a malfunction – a million things might go wrong. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as the engines start up.
‘Altitude climbing. Ten metres. Twenty metres.’ The onboard AI announces the progress of your escape, and you feel yourself gently pressed into the cushioning of your seat. You open your eyes to see that Vile is operating the outside camera to watch the ground recede. He pivots the viewpoint and you gasp to see the blue green orb seemingly rise above the horizon as you climb.
‘It’s so beautiful.’
‘I never tire of watching it. Look how fragile it is.’ Vile muses. ‘Think how many millennia it’s served as home to our race, how few have seen it first hand as we do now.’ Your heart swells as you see his eyes shine with enthusiasm. Your first impression of him was of how arrogant he was, but he’s simply confident in his abilities, a brilliant thinker who isn’t afraid of hard work, dedicated and driven, a passionate man, and you’re grateful that some of that passion comes your way. You’re thankful that he came to be attracted to you and hope you continue to inspire his trust and affection. Perhaps you really will have a proper break back on the island and he won’t get distracted by some new project. You picture yourself on white sands sipping a cold cocktail, Vile by your side, his muscular physique drawing your eye away from the blue, blue sea.
‘You can unbuckle now if you like, it will be some time before we reach atmosphere. We have to time it so we’re out of sight of the space station.’ You snap out of your reverie as Vile rises from his seat.
‘I thought we were shielded.’
‘From most electronic means of detection, yes. But the human eye isn’t so easily fooled. The astronauts onboard might catch enough of a glimpse to bring more sensitive equipment online.’ He looks thoughtful. ‘I need to do more work on the system.’
‘I’m going to stop you there. Remember you agreed that a complete break would help bring a fresh perspective.’
‘You’re right of course, forgive me.’ He floats free of his chair in zero G and you start to unstrap yourself. You feel slightly nauseous as you start to drift up toward him. He takes your hand and pulls you toward the viewing port to look back at the moon. There is no trace of his base save for a slight blur that shimmers on the surface.
‘The shielding looks pretty good from here.’
‘It’s harder with a moving object. I need to make a smaller device that mimics the collider and manipulates the surface area…’ his voice trails off as you raise an eyebrow at him. ‘I know, I promised…’
‘I did kind of prompt it. Let’s say you can gear that brilliant mind of yours right down when we get to the island.’
‘You ground me in so many ways, my dear.’ Vile turns toward you, moving closer and murmuring in your ear. ‘It will be good to be intimate without having to take medication to make it possible.’ You feel a warmth in your core as his lips stray to your neck. It must be emasculating to have to take pills to ensure that blood goes where it’s needed. There have been times in the past few weeks when intimacy has involved just being close to each other, touching hands or embracing. You joke with him that it’s rather like the period dramas that are popular on various media back home.
‘I wonder how the human race will manage to reproduce when we leave Earth.’ You ponder, leaning back into him, relishing the warmth of his body, knowing you will have to wait for more adventurous play.
‘By the time it’s an issue we will have solved that problem. You and I have already done our part in the research.’
‘You have to share it for it to count, you know.’
‘I’ve made arrangements that most of my research will be released to the scientific community, should I come to an untimely end.’
‘That’s wonderful, James, but didn’t you say one of your projects is prolonging life? If you’re successful that might be a long time in the future.’
‘That is so, but I will of course release it earlier if needed.’ You alternate between easy discourse and comfortable silence as the spacecraft speeds toward Earth and soon you have evaded detection and the planet fills the viewing ports. You don your helmets and Vile makes sure all is proper with you before settling in his own seat. There is nothing for either of you to do in the coming minutes, and if something goes drastically wrong your end will most probably be swift. Travelling through the atmosphere itself takes less than two minutes, but it will be brutal.
Re-entry is unnervingly silent and there is little vibration, but you see the view outside turn red with the heat of passing through the layers of atmosphere, and you are pressed hard into your seat. Breathing is an effort, and the onboard life support system adjusts the air fed to you in your suit as Vile promised. The readout of your vital life signs on the control panel shows that Vile is calmer than you, but you can’t turn your head to look to him for reassurance or reach out to hold his hand. Roaring in your ears and the thudding of your heartbeat almost drowns out the AI counting down the distance to the surface.
The chutes deploy, and it feels as if the craft is swinging wildly, but the view outside, cooling down from the vivid red it had been only seconds ago shows only a gentle sway. That stabilises as the landing platform comes into view on the screen in front of you in the blue, blue ocean below, only a short distance from the shielded shimmer that is Vile’s private island. There is a small jolt as the landing rockets kick in and thankfully the pressure on your chest eases. There is a bump and a clunk as finally VSV brings you down.
Although the pressure you feel is less, the gravity of your home planet feels harsh after your weeks on the moon. You feel heavy and clumsy and look to Vile, who takes off his helmet and unbuckles his harness again. You can see he’s struggling a little to cope with his unaccustomed weight, but he’s strong and determined and is soon helping you as your fingers fumble to unfasten your helmet. He puts it to the side, coming back to you and looking at you intently as you make no further attempt to get up.
‘Take your time, Lucy. The disembarking umbilicus has to be deployed and engaged, so you can stay in your seat until that’s done.’ He sits and starts flicking switches and monitoring the process. You let your breath settle and your heartbeat slows a little as you hear the machinery do its work, various jolts and bumps causing you to grip onto the armrest. Vile is muttering as he works and you feel a little lightheaded.
‘This should be easier and quicker. Perhaps if I…’ his words become intelligible and an alarm sounds. He turns to you swiftly as you realise your vision is dimming, and that the alarm comes from the panel with your life sign readout. ‘Stay with me, Lucy…’ are the last words you hear before you pass out.
——–
You come to in your seat, and wonder how much time has passed as Vile’s face swims into view. Relief floods his features as a drone hovers nearby, a syringe hanging from one of its robotic appendages.
‘It’s alright Lucy, you’re safe. We’re back on Earth.’ There is a slight tremor to his voice and he hands you a cup of ice chips. ‘Take this – no rush, just a little.’ You’re hoarse as you try to talk, but he shakes his head. ‘Stay quiet just now. You fainted, but you’re going to be fine.’ You nod and let the ice melt on your tongue. He takes your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
‘Shuttle approaching.’ The AI announces, and Vile looks briefly away to the screen.
‘That’s our boat to the island. There’s no rush, we can here until you feel stronger, or I can help you out.’
‘James’ you croak. ‘How long was I out for?’
‘Ten minutes or so. It’s quite normal for astronauts to faint on their return to Earth. I presumed you’d be able to cope better – I should have made allowances.’
‘Don’t blame yourself. I was pretty nervous, that probably didn’t help.’
‘That means I didn’t prepare you well enough, my dear. I had confidence in my own ability – after all I’ve done it before. It is a flaw in the process that there’s nobody to help. There’s no substitute for the human touch.’
‘I’ll know next time – if we go again.’
‘Indeed.’ He smiles. ‘How do you feel now?’
‘A little better. Heavy – I’m not sure I can walk yet.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Just think how hard it is returning from zero gravity. I myself passed out for half an hour first time. Luckily my med drones were able to bring me round, but it was a while before I got back to shore. After that my trips were to the moon to supervise the building of the base.’
‘Was that all done by drones? It must have been incredibly expensive.’
‘You forget, I made a lot of money with the selfie drone and I’m the man who stole the Hadron Collider. If I want to achieve something I’ll find a way. The first structure was the hardest. After that it was mostly self built while I was back on Earth.’
‘You’re incredible, James. I’m so glad we met.’
‘As am I, Lucy. I know I’m a better man for having you in my life. If you’ve had enough of the ice chips you might like to try my re-entry cocktail.’
‘Re-entry…?’
‘It’s mostly water, but it has essential electrolytes and trace minerals that will speed up your recovery.’
‘I should definitely try some.’ He produces a bottle with a drinking straw, obviously designed for low gravity conditions and you take it, sipping cautiously.
‘It’s – sweet. And salty. Not bad.’ He peers at you critically.
‘You’re getting some colour back in your cheeks. It’s not far to the boat, do you think you can stand?’ You extend your leg, flexing your ankle and turning your foot.
‘If you stay close I’ll give it a try.’ He extends his hand.
‘Come my dear, I promised to take time out, and you need some pampering. Welcome back to Earth.’
