maymoriam
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Anby is terrible with surprises; a convenient misunderstanding.
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“So, it’s a tragic love story,” Anby concludes. One of her hands strays from Nicole’s waist to toy absently with her collar, tracing over the familiar outline of a scar underneath; the sting is not novel, but it doesn’t negate the instinct she has to flee. “One where… The protagonist dies before they can tell their loved ones how they really feel.”
Nicole sighs, and Anby can feel it against her jaw, along her lips. “If you’re so worried about that,” she says, “tell me.”
Her eyelids flutter closed. “I can’t defy the genre. That’s bad storytelling.”
“I’m changing it, then,” Nicole says. She rolls her hips, and Anby’s shuddering breath disturbs the hair around her ear. “Fuck me, Anby. Make it up to me.”
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Anby doesn't know how to apologize. Nicole shows her where to start.
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11 turns her head, and Trigger’s lips are terrifyingly close to her cheek. Behind her visor, bathed in orange, her eyes sparkle with something small, vulnerable. She’s breathing hard through her nose, and all Trigger can think is, do I always have this effect on you?
Though 11 would never admit to it, Trigger likes to think she does.
She grins, sharp and thin, and leans in close enough that she can feel the rolling warmth on her lips. “Would you rather I help you pass the time, instead?”
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A rare moment in which Soldier 11 and Trigger can indulge themselves, hidden away from the world’s gaze.
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The first things she sees when entering the office that morning, twenty minutes later than usual, are the bristling figures of Harumasa and Soukaku. He’s holding something over her head defensively, and she’s jumping for it, until she seems to give up and hits him swiftly in the stomach. When he doubles over, she snatches the object from his palm with triumph. Upon further inspection—as she storms over to scold one or both of them—it appears to be one half of a bagel.
She sighs. This is why she can’t take time off.
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Yanagi learns to have a little more faith in her colleagues.
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“I’d like it to be you,” she says instead, without much flair nor forethought, as though it were a casual thing to discuss. “Should I ever find myself drenched in the scent of a traitor, I want it to be you who demonstrates what happens to those who make an enemy of the Defense Force.”
Trigger is silent for a moment, lips pursing. The cold metal of her blindfold is unforgiving, but 11 tries her best to envision the downward swoop of her upper eyelid, eclipsed by the furrow of her brow, scleras glimmering with corruption. “Is… That a possibility?”
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Soldier 11 grapples with feelings she shouldn't have; Trigger seems to know far too much.
Recent bookmarks
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She’s always been rather cowardly.
Bookmarked by maymoriam
31 Dec 2025
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It's a quiet evening at home when Astra decides she wants to play a game. After only a little coaxing, Evelyn is willing to oblige—but as Astra comes to learn, she was never promised an easy win.
Bookmarked by maymoriam
01 May 2025
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In a last-ditch attempt to save her floundering career, Odeum Entertainment assigns their most exasperating star a new bodyguard.
Only there’s something a little different about this one.
Bookmarked by maymoriam
11 Jul 2025
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Astra swipes the small cardboard box in the penthouse entryway into her arms the second the lift doors open wide enough, speeding inside to let Evelyn make her usual checks of the security system with an affectionate shake of her head.
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Astra can't wait to show her latest purchase to Evelyn.
Bookmarked by maymoriam
07 Jun 2025
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In the shadowed halls of Porto-Veno, Cantarella and Carlotta share a tense dance of power and desire, where control slips and secrets burn.
Bookmarked by maymoriam
17 May 2025