#//just basing it off our current flash forward thread

[couldbetricky]

✧

bold➝  strongly appliesitalic ➝  soft yes / applies passively or situationally

Present:

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

Future:

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[hornime]

voyeurant | kenma kozume x f!reader

he tentatively wrapped a palm around the shaft, shuddering at the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. god, i’m such a pervert, thinking about her like this. she’d hate me if she knew i saw her like that, knew that i was touching myself thinking about her tits...

warnings: 18+, timeskip!kenma, kinda dubcon, kenma’s unintentionally pervy, male masturbation, poorly written video game content (i tried my best), mutual pining but u both are oblivious

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: yes, the title is a shitty pun of valorant. no, i will not be changing it. also this tiktok about timeskip kenma made me giggle so pls enjoy.

voyeurant: part one ↓ | part two | part three:

“fuck, i hate this map,” kenma grumbled into his headset.

your voiced chimed in his ears. “is it ascent?” you turned to see his face on your screen, pinched in annoyance. “ha, it is ascent. sucks for you.”

“which one are you on? haven?”

“you know it,” you chuckled. “your favorite.”

“i hate you.” he weighed his options, did he really want to play this game? the layout of the world made it irritatingly hard to strategize, and today’s losing streak was making him more agitated than usual. with a sign, he closed the application. “fuck this. i’m gonna go piss.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re such a big baby. and...” you released your mouse, throwing your hands up in triumph, ��we just won. at this point, i’m gonna outrank you.” you were joking, of course. kenma wasn’t just a gamer, he was kodzuken, one of japan’s best pro-gamers, and you were just someone that played as a hobby. but it was always fun to tease.

“hmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure you will.” he turned his head to look directly at his webcam, smirking, “in your dreams.”

“ooh, catboy’s getting feisty!” he flinched at the nickname. “go pee so i can beat you at your best.”

he obliged, pulling his headphones off and looping them on the top of his chair. he casually raised his middle finger at you while smoothing out strands of his hair, prompting a series of profanities to escape your mouth, none of which he could hear. he chuckled playfully as you responded with two middle fingers of your own, before moving out of the camera to get to the bathroom.

you and kenma had met in an... interesting way, to say the least. after going moderately viral from lashing out at him for refusing to heal you in a game of overwatch—while he was streaming—the two of you reconciled over a twitter thread and exchanged gamer tags. since then, you’d struck up an easygoing friendship, characterized by almost nightly discord calls and occasional flirting. but we’re just friends, you often reminded yourself. and you were fine, well, mostly fine, with that.

tonight was like any other night: both you and him spending hours in a video chat with nothing better to do than mindlessly play games and bash each other. it was more than enough to strengthen your relationship but fell short of giving you the romantic tension you craved.

with kenma off in the bathroom, you, already bored, spun wildly in your chair. forgetting that your earbuds were still plugged in, the white wire caught on an opened can of coke sitting on your desk, spilling the sugary drink all over your keyboard and the front of your shirt. 

“shit!” you quickly scrambled for paper towels, but the still-connected wire yanked you backwards. in your haste for something to wipe the soda with, the fact that your camera remained on in the video call completely slipped your mind. making the split-second decision that the trip for a towel wasn’t worth it at this point, you quickly whipped off your shirt, dabbing the keys with the part that was still dry. since you were home, you’d gone braless, and your current predicament had you flashing your webcam.

now, kenma had seen a lot of things from your side of the call: he’d seen you get chewed out by your residential advisor for being too loud, you with two sticks of pocky poking out of your mouth like walrus tusks, and you doing random cosplay moves you’d seen on tiktok. what he wasn’t expecting to see, not even in his wildest dreams, was a screenful of your tits, slightly damp from the cola that had seeped through the fabric of your long-gone shirt.

he stopped in his tracks, still out of the frame of his camera, eyes wide and heart racing, desperately trying to calm down and prevent the gradual hardening of his cock in his pants. unable to deny his desires, he continued staring at your plump breasts on his computer, you completely unaware that he could see you.

you quickly threw your soaked top in the laundry basket before throwing on a random sweatshirt and trying to calm your frazzled nerves. you tentatively touched your keyboard, groaning internally when you fingers lightly stuck to the buttons. it’s gonna take forever to clean this, you mourned.

“hey,” kenma mumbled, reappearing on screen and shaking you out of your thoughts.

“hey.” you noticed his flushed expression. “are you okay? you look really red.”

“uh, yeah. i actually uh, i feel kinda sick. so i’m gonna, gonna go.”

“oh, okay.” why’s he acting so weird? “feel better!” you disconnected from the call with a huff, disappointment morphing your face into a pout. well, you thought, better get to cleaning.

kenma, on the other hand, was still, swallowing as the bulge in his boxers became agonizingly hard. though the only thing left on his screen was his reflection staring back at him, the luscious view of your bust was etched in his mind. his hands moved to free his cock, the tip an angry red and smearing pre-cum over the waistband of his underwear. 

he tentatively wrapped a palm around the shaft, shuddering at the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. god, i’m such a pervert, thinking about her like this. she’d hate me if she knew i saw her like that, knew that i was touching myself thinking about her tits...

“fuck,” he whined, slowly stroking up and down. his thighs trembled as he fell back into his chair, mind wandering. he couldn’t stop himself, his thoughts become more and more lewd, fantasizing about how your breasts would bounce as he thrusted into you, how your thighs would wrap warmly around your head as he ate you out, how you’d cry out his name so prettily when he made you squirt around his fingers.

it was all too much, and as the circle he made with his fingers tightened as he reached his tip, he lurched forward, alarmed at how good everything felt just by thinking about you. i can’t cum, i can’t, the small part of his brain that wasn’t completely overtaken with pleasure tried to reason with him. there’s no going back if i—shit—if i cum. she’ll know, somehow, if i—if i cum, i—

the ecstasy kept clouding his judgement and his body worked against his mind as his hand pumped faster and faster while his conscience screamed to stop. his wrist wetly slapped the base of his cock, the sounds of both his hands and his moans getting too loud for comfort, but all he could think about was you. your eyes, your mouth, your chest, your legs, your ass, your pussy. god, he wanted to be in you so badly.

he couldn’t hold back, his insatiable need to cum overriding his senses, and the translucent liquid twitched out of his throbbing cock in spurts, drenching his fist and his balls. “fuck, fuck, fuck. i’m—fuck.”

he collapsed against the back of his chair, chest heaving with the sheer intensity of his orgasm. he combed a hand through his hair, the consequences of his actions now weighing heavily on his shoulders. i’m never gonna be able to look at her in the eyes again, he lamented. how am i ever gonna—damn it. 

the sudden ping of a notification had his eyes raising from the mess on his pants towards his computer screen. 

meanwhile, you were messaging kenma, a little off-put by his sudden radio silence but chalking it all up to his mysterious sickness.

[11:05 PM] you: hey ken! hope u feel better

[11:05 PM] you: if u get the chance u should check out what i added to our minecraft house. its perfect for sick victorian orphans like u

[12:14 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: why arent u responding

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: ok u got me ill tell u

[12:05 PM] you: its a hot tub

[12:05 PM] you: but with soup

[12:05 PM] you: but the soup is lava

[12:05 PM] you: genius right

[12:06 PM] you: anyway get some sleep and feel better <3

[12:06 PM] you: lmk if u wanna play animal crossing

[12:06 PM] you: actually no u should sleep. rest ur eyes and shit

[12:06 PM] you: no animal crossing for u!

[12:06 PM] you: sleep well so i can destroy ur ass in val tmrw

[12:06 PM] you: >:)

he sighed as he read your one-sided ramblings. he really liked you.

and he really wanted to fuck you. lucky for you, you wanted the exact same thing. 

if only kenma knew what you did on the other side of the screen, hands in your undies and his name on your lips...

>> part two

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[tiramisiyu]

Tears of Themis: Xia Yan/Luke 【妄夜之魇】 Looming Nightmare - Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Unsubbed Video

Transcript below cut:

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Part 1

Forest

In the morning, a group of villagers walked slowly through the forest’s rocks and mud.

Nearby, a young man dressed as a knight noticed them.

Luke: Please wait!

The young man pushed aside the dense branches, rushing over to the villagers.

Villager Captain: You are…?

Luke: My apologies for troubling you all. I’m Luke Pearce, a knight.

As he spoke, he balled up his left hand and placed it before his chest, displaying a standard gesture of courtesy to the villagers.

Villager Captain: So you’re a knight. Greetings, is anything the matter?

Luke: I’d like to ask you all if there is anyone who knows where the evil dragon is?

Villager A: E-evil dragon?!

When they heard “evil dragon”, a momentary fear displayed on all the villagers’ faces.

The whispers among them gradually grew louder, and the originally calm group gradually began to lose control.

Villager A: W-why are you searching for the evil dragon…

Villager B: Why are you asking about that beast’s whereabouts?! Are you trying to get it to come over here again?!

Villager B: O-our village, it…

Villager Captain: Calm down.

The young captain placed a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged man to calm him down temporarily.

Villager Captain: We were impolite. Sir Knight, none of us have malicious intentions. It’s just…

Luke: Were… you all also attacked by the dragon?

Villager Captain: Indeed…

The young man sighed.

Villager Captain: We originally lived in a nearby village. Three days ago, our village was attacked by that dragon.

Villager Captain: The flames it breathes, and its massive wings that kick up gales when they beat…

Villager Captain: That’s how our houses and fields were thoroughly annihilated.

Villager Captain: Many villagers that couldn’t escape were left forever in those ruins.

Villager Captain: But that dragon didn’t stop there. It… even carried off lots of innocent people.

Villager Captain: That’s what happened to my wife and that grandma’s only daughter.

Villager Captain: We don’t even know if they’re still alive.

The young man spoke until his voice faded. The hands that hung on his sides were tightly clenched, like he was trying to control his emotions.

Villager Captain: Like us, lots and lots of villages and cities have been destroyed by it in the past several days.

Villager Captain: Those attacked by it can only flee in search of a temporary safe place.

Villager Captain: We…

Luke: … I’m sorry for making you recall such horrible things.

The young knight lowered his head in apology.

Luke: On my journey, I’ve also heard lots about its terrible actions.

Luke: When I saw you all from far away, I thought you were all normal passersby. I didn’t think…

Villager Captain: It’s alright. We do have to learn to face this eventually.

Villager Captain: Although, Sir Knight, why are you looking for that dragon?

Luke: Because…

A flash of desolation appeared on the knight’s face.

Luke: Because I’m looking for someone who is incredibly important to me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

The fortune-teller fiddled playfully with the crystal ball in her hands. The lights floating in the air moved as she did.

With a sliver of curiosity on her features, she lifted her gaze and looked over her visitor, then placed her hands piously in front of her chest.

Fortune-teller: Esteemed Sir Knight, may I ask why you are here?

Luke: …

The knight’s rigid body leaned forward slightly, an unconcealable urgency and distress in his eyes.

Luke: I want to find someone. She’s vanished, and I have no idea where she is.

Fortune-teller: Oh? Find someone? Who might it be?

Luke: Someone… that grew up with me since childhood.

Fortune-teller: Someone that grew up with you?

Luke: Yes.

He released a deep sigh.

Luke: It’s been eight years since the start of the war.

Luke: The day I left for battle, I promised her that I would return home safely and live with her forever, never to leave again.

Luke: But after the war ended and I returned to the village, all that welcomed me was an empty house.

Luke: I asked everyone around about where she went, but they all said that she suddenly vanished one day.

Luke: Only after did I find out that everyone had thought that I’d died in battle.

Luke: She…

The knight grasped tight on the longsword in his hands. The ruby on the hilt flashed faintly in the darkness.

The fortune-teller leaned against the table, holding her chin with her hand.

Fortune-teller: Have you ever thought that she just couldn’t keep waiting anymore, or that she might have moved elsewhere because she thought you were dead?

Luke: She wouldn’t. We’ve lived together for so many years. I know best about what sort of person she is.

Luke: I know that even if I made her sad or if everyone said I was dead…

Luke: As long as she hasn’t seen my corpse, she won’t give up, and she’ll keep waiting for me…

Luke: … Something must have happened for her to choose to leave without a farewell.

Luke: So, I want to find her. I want to know what exactly happened.

The young knight’s voice gradually weakened, until it was nearly inaudible.

The fortune-teller tittered quietly.

Fortune-teller: I understand. Then, please wait a moment—

She placed her hand on the crystal ball. As the lights and shadows drifted, an image of a dragon occupying the plains gradually appeared.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-teller: Do you know of the legend of the evil dragon?

Luke: Evil dragon?

Fortune-teller: Yes. This dragon runs amok over the continent, scattering destruction and annihilation everywhere…

Fortune-teller: Its evil reputation is now common knowledge among all people.

Luke: But what does that have to do with her?

Fortune-teller: I am unsure of the exact connection it has to her, but based on the image in the crystal ball…

Fortune-teller: You just need to kill the dragon and obtain the treasure chest it protects to discover the way to find her.

Luke: …

Luke: Are you sure?

Fortune-teller: Of course. My divinations have never been wrong. If not, Sir Knight…

The fortune-teller unconsciously knocked a few times on the crystal ball, and a clear sound reverberated in the room.

Fortune-teller: Then you wouldn’t have come to find me, correct?

Luke: … They say that you are the greatest fortune-teller on the continent, and that there’s nothing you don’t know.

Fortune-teller: Which is even more reason for you to believe me, no?

Luke: …

The knight nodded ponderously.

Luke: I understand. Where is the dragon right now?

Fortune-teller: That’s for you to find out.

Fortune-teller: However, there is something that you must think over first.

Fortune-teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: So I can only do as the fortune-teller instructed, travelling as I search for clues on the dragon.

Villager Captain: It seems like the person you’re looking for… must have been captured by the dragon too.

When he finished listening to the knight’s story, the captain gave a quick conclusion.

Villager Captain: The young lady you’re looking for isn’t the only one. In the past while, that dragon has already captured many good girls.

Villager Captain: Many noble ladies and wives in the city weren’t even spared.

Luke: Then… has anyone ever returned among those who were captured?

Villager B: No – no one has ever seen them again after they were taken.

Villager B: Whether the dragon has hurt them, whether they’re still alive, or where they’re kept… no one knows anything.

Luke: No one knows anything, huh…

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

The knight suddenly lifted his head, looking firmly at the villagers.

  Part 2

Forest

In the forest, the young knight faced the villagers, his gaze firm.

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

Villager B: This…

Looking at the villagers’ somewhat hesitant expressions, the knight smiled slightly.

Luke: I understand your concerns, but to me, as long as there is still one thread of opportunity, I will definitely not give up.

Luke: So…

Luke: Please, do any of you know anything at all about the dragon?

Villager Captain: …

The villagers looked at each other. The young captain tilted his head as if trying to recall something.

Villager Captain: I don’t know much about the dragon, but…

Villager Captain: Three days ago, when I was fleeing the village, I think I saw that dragon flying towards the highest mountain peak on the northeast of this forest.

Luke: The peaks in the northeast…

The knight looked towards the direction that the villager captain was pointing towards. He could vaguely see the shape of a mountain peak there.

Villager Captain: Yes, but that mountain is farther from here than it looks.

Villager Captain: Plus, there’s also a path full of thorns at the end of this forest that normal people can’t get through at all.

Villager Captain: Currently, not many people have gone there, so I can’t be sure if the dragon is actually there.

Luke: Is that so… but it’s worth a try.

Villager B: Uh… I’ve also heard a little about the dragon.

The formerly irritable middle-aged man, possibly being moved by the words earlier, hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

Villager B: That dragon probably does live on that mountain peak.

Luke: Are you sure?

Villager B: Yes. Two weeks ago, an artisan from the city went with his brothers there.

Villager B: But several days later, aside from a young man, no one in that group returned.

Villager B: That young man said that they were attacked by that beast on the mountain…

Villager B: But sadly, his wounds were too grave, and he passed away a few days later.

Villager B: After that, no matter how much money the city nobles offered, no one else dared to go put their lives on their line.

Villager B: We also…

The middle-aged man sighed.

Villager B: We’ve… given up already.

Luke: …I understand. Thank you all for giving me so much information.

Luke: It’s not that early anymore, and I need to head for that mountain, so I’ll be heading off.

Villager B: Sir Knight, are you really going to look for that dragon?

Villager B: With how massive and brutish that dragon is, it’ll kill you!

Villager B: You don’t know how that young man who returned…

Luke: Thank you for your concerns, but this is a promise I made with her. No matter how difficult the path forward is…

The young knight looked straight at the group in front of him, his voice firm and resolute.

He spoke each word emphatically, answering the question earlier, yet seeming more like he was telling himself.

Luke: No matter how difficult the path forward is, even if everyone has given up, I will not stop moving forward.

Villager B: …

Villager Captain: …

The villagers fell silent for a moment.

A long moment after, the young captain spoke.

Villager Captain: Sir Knight, since you’ve made your decision to go, we have no reason to continue trying to persuade you.

Villager Captain: The road ahead will be difficult, and defeating the dragon is sure to be no easy task…

Villager Captain: All we can do is to pray that you find the one you love quickly and return safely.

Luke: Thank you, everyone.

The knight made a sincere gesture of courtesy again towards the villagers, then turned around and walked into the depths of the forest.

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Plains

After a long trek, the young knight bypassed that rumoured thorny block and arrived at the wilds outside the forest.

Luke: …

Though it was called the wilds, all the plants had long been burned into crisps. Black dust had settled densely over the rocks.

A massive mountain stood at the edge of his range of vision. A dense black fog lingered over the peak, quiet and strange.

At the foot of the mountain, many volcanoes and short rock mounds created continuous undulations, extending to the horizon.

Luke: …

He lifted his head and looked towards the faraway sky. The red light of the pre-sunset sun was harshly dazzling.

Luke: A precursor to the solar eclipse, huh…

Luke: Maybe it really is as the person before said…

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Villager B: Sir Knight, before passing, that person who returned said…

Villager B: On the day of a solar eclipse, it seems like the dragon’s strength will weaken.

Luke: Weaken?

Villager B: Yes, that person kept repeating this before he passed, so I remember it very clearly.

Villager B: If you really must get near it, maybe you can choose this day.

Luke: … Understood.

[Flashback]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Luke: Based on the appearance of the sun, the eclipse will only start tomorrow…

Luke: The volcanoes around look pretty unstable right now. Now is definitely not the best time to act.

Luke: I’ll build a temporary residence near the forest and wait for a chance.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Temporary Residence

In the wooden hut, the knight was in the middle of pre-battle preparations.

Luke: …

He cleaned his sword in the firelight. When his gaze brushed over the ruby on the hilt, he fell into a momentary trance.

Luke: …

Luke: …

Luke: Soon, I’ll be able to see you again.

Luke: Right?

Luke: …

In the empty room, the only response he received was the crackling of burning firewood.

The young knight lowered his head.

The emotions that he had continuously restrained quietly trickled out where no one could hear, under the comfort of the moonlight.

Luke: I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact you even once for so long…

Luke: You must have been so worried during then…

Luke: …

Luke: I wonder how you’re doing right now, and if you’ve encountered any danger…

Luke: Were you scared, facing that dragon alone? Were you injured?

Luke: Don’t be scared, I’ll save you very soon.

The wind blew past soundlessly. In the quiet hut, the knight’s voice became clearer and clearer.

It seemed as if a burning flame had ignited in his eyes. The moonlight shone in, casting light over the entirety of the room.

Luke: We promised that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t leave, and we’d always be together…

Luke: I won’t let you bear everything on your own anymore.

Luke: It’ll be tomorrow… wait for me.

He smiled, his fingertips brushing over his own reflection in the ruby.

Luke: Goodnight.

The knight placed his sword by his side and sank into a shallow sleep.

Just like all the nights in the past many years.

Part 3

Garrison Camp

Troop Leader: Hey, Luke, you returned with perfect timing.

Troop Leader: Just finished bringing over the new delivery of rations. I brought you the letter from the one at your home.

When he saw the person who was placing the letter on his bed, the knight shook his head helplessly.

Luke: Leader, we’re still in the troops right now. Even if you want to address her…

Troop Leader: Alright, alright. The letter that your wife sent, does that work?

Luke: We haven’t gotten married yet…

Troop Leader: Hahahahaha—

Troop Leader: Hey, honestly though, Miss MC really does treat you well.

Troop Leader: I have no idea how she managed to get that many rations and letters sent over here.

Troop Leader: If I remember right, she’s just a commoner, right? The type without even a fief. Tsk tsk tsk, she really is good.

As he teased him, the leader came up to the side of the bed, jokingly bumping against the young knight’s shoulder.

Troop Leader: Luke, I feel like she’s even more proactive than you. Bring out your knight’s spirit already!

Troop Leader: Though we can’t contact the outside world, I’m cheering you on inside, yeah?

Luke: Thanks, leader.

Luke: Although there’s something you’ve gotten wrong. Though I can’t send her replies…

He layered the letters together, placing them in the closest spot to his heart in his armour.

Luke: This is my answer to her. My heart is always with her.

Luke: The day the war ends, I will return to her side, safe and sound.

Luke: When that time comes, I won’t leave her ever again.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Forest

Luke: …

When he saw the multiple letters in front of him, the young knight sunk into his memories.

To prepare for the nearing battle, he came to the riverside at dawn to change the medicines on the wounds he received in the war.

Luke: Back then, I thought that I would be able to reunite with you after the war ended.

Luke: We’d then be able to be like thousands of other normal people, living out our lives healthily and safely.

Luke: But I never thought…

He couldn’t help grasping tight on the letter papers.

Luke: Did you know that during those eight years, I kept thinking about you over and over, speaking on my own, just like this?

Luke: I remember every single thing you wrote to me about.

Luke: You said that the neighbouring auntie’s puppy stepped all over the rose garden at the doorway again.

Luke: You said that the honey that a friend gave you was very sweet, and you wanted to see the bee yard too, but you didn’t go because you knew I wouldn’t agree.

Luke: And so much more… I’ve remembered every single thing perfectly.

Luke: I… really… miss you.

The knight couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, as certain crystalline things fell slowly between his fingers.

A few minutes later, he took a deep breath, then put down his hand.

Luke: This is bad, I lost control of my emotions for a moment.

Luke: I wasn’t even that sad last night, but maybe it’s because I saw you in my dreams again, so I…

Luke: Now isn’t the time to be sentimental. I’ve got to bolster myself to face the upcoming battle.

The sunlight shone into the forest, past the gaps between the swaying leaves, falling dappled on the knight’s armour.

Far away, the sun displayed a light that was different from normal.

Luke: Is it coming…

He quickly put on his clothes and grasped onto his sword again.

Luke: Wait for me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Plains

Because he had already crossed over the forest once, the knight arrived at the plains much faster than before.

Clouds smothered the originally-blue skies. The roars of the dragon resounded nonstop at the horizon, and the air was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.

Luke: …

Suddenly, the roars of the dragon became unusually clear. A massive black shadow rushed down from the mountain peak, gradually nearing the centre of the plains.

Luke: !!!

Luke: This is my chance!

The knight immediately broke into a sprint towards the black shadow.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The moment he arrived at the centre of the plains, the dragon was landing with two young villagers in its claws.

The two people tossed on the round tumbled a few times. Tears covered their faces, and their hands were tightly clasped.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Run!

The knight threw a wooden gun towards the dragon, then yanked out the dagger at his waist and threw it backhandedly on the ground near the forest.

He loaded an arrow as he sprinted towards the dragon.

Luke: Take that dagger and get out through the forest now!

Luke: I’ve left markers on the path. Follow those!

Female Villager: O-okay… tha-thank you!

The pitiful villagers tremblingly picked up the dagger and ran towards the forest as they supported each other.

They passed by the young man, kicking up sand and stone. The two sides of the battlefield changed in a flash.

Luke: …

The knight did not look back to the already faraway villagers. He calmly set his hands on the bow.

The dragon roared furiously at him, spitting a ball of fire.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

The knight stepped swiftly off the rocks in front of him, resolutely loosing an arrow towards the dragon, sidestepping the close call of the fire.

Luke: This won’t do. It’s too fast.

Luke: I won’t be able to dodge at all with speeds like that…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: !!!

Without giving the knight room to think, the dragon launched its second attack.

It looked again at the person in front of it and spat out a large amount of fire. The flickering firelight lit up the entire desolate plains.

The knight dodged the attack. The winds surged, the glint of the blade shone, and the surroundings continuously heated up.

Luke: …

Luke: This is how strong it is when it’s weakened?

Luke: If this keeps going, I’ll lose all my footholds.

Luke: What do I do…

His brow wrinkled tightly, looking at the dragon that had built up its power and was waiting to attack again. His hands held his hilt tight—

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon opened its mouth wide, flying towards the young man.

Rocks were sent flying from the intense movements of the two opponents. The knight planted his feet on the shards of rock, both of his hands gripping his longsword.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Want to kill me? Keep dreaming!

As if he couldn’t hear the dragon’s roars at all, he was completely focused on looking for a chance to attack.

Luke: If it’s the instant before it breathes fire… as long as I grab that chance…

Luke: If I can strike your vitals…

Luke: I’ll still have a chance!

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon threw back its head, releasing a long roar towards the skies.

Luke: Now!

The knight lifted the sword and sprinted up to the dragon, slashing down on the dragon’s neck with all his strength.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Blood sprayed, and the massive creature struggled, writhing, and finally spread its wings, flying off towards the heights.

Luke: Don’t even think about escaping!

The young man ran up, and three arrows cut through the air.

Howling winds blew as the eclipse fully set in. On the faraway peaks, the contours of a black castle could suddenly be seen.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon dodged the arrows, roaring in pain, then escaped in flight towards the faraway castle.

Luke: It all ends here.

The young knight discarded his longbow and gripped at his sword, planning to chase after the dragon.

However, right then, a pattern of lights shone from the astrolabe he was carrying.

He froze for a moment and thought back on what the fortune-teller had told him before—

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

Fortune-Teller: Wait.

Fortune-Teller: Keep this with you.

The fortune-teller called out to the young man who was on the verge of leaving and handed a metal astrolabe to him.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-Teller: If the astrolabe starts flashing, it’s a warning from me to stop fighting immediately.

Luke: … I am well aware of when I should stop.

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, you do indeed have lots of fighting experience.

Fortune-Teller: But I am the only one who can help you, so trust me, alright?

Luke: …

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Luke: Ouch…

The knight frowned in pain, as if he had finally come to his senses from the tense atmosphere, and looked over himself out of habit.

Luke: !!!

The dark armour had long been stained in blood, and some of the parts that were exposed were covered in wounds of all sizes.

Luke: I was… injured this badly?

Luke: Sure enough… that dragon’s strength…

He ultimately decided to stop.

  Part 4

Temporary Residence

The knight closed the door to the residence.

He leaned on the wall, like an injured little animal.

Luke: How could this be…

Luke: Is the difference in strength between me and that dragon that big?

Luke: How am I going to save her at this point… I…

The astrolabe beside him shone again. Then, after a flash of white light at the doorway, the fortune-teller pushed open the door.

Luke: It’s you?

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, I hope you have been well since our last meeting.

The fortune-teller looked over the person in front of her, her eyes squinting slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Looks like you listened to what I told you. Well done.

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: This expression… were you not willing to give up?

Luke: None of your business.

Fortune-Teller: None of my business… haha, do you remember what I said back then?

Luke: …

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-Teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-Teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: Has reality now changed your mind?

Luke: No. No matter when, I will not change my mind.

Fortune-Teller: Will not change? Then… what can you do?

Fortune-Teller: You must have realized the natural difference in strength between you and the dragon from battling.

Fortune-Teller: It looked like you won the battle, but what are the results?

Fortune-Teller: Even while it was weakened during the solar eclipse, the only effective attack you landed was that single slash.

Fortune-Teller: While you…

The fortune-teller looked at the young knight’s right arm, mottled with blood and some burn marks.

Fortune-Teller: You’re covered in wounds already. How much longer can you hold on for?

Luke: …

Luke: I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t give up. I must get that treasure chest and find her.

Luke: I don’t want to think about anything else.

Fortune-Teller: … Is it worth it?

The fortune-teller went silent for a moment, then asked this question suddenly.

Luke: It is.

Luke: I promised her that I’d return to her, that I’d safely tell her that everything had ended, that we would never be apart from then on.

Luke: I think about her every day, and I look forward to seeing her again every day. I’ve reread each of the letters she sent too many times to count.

Luke: She is my everything. I won’t just give up like this.

Fortune-Teller: … So you plan to seek out that dragon again?

Luke: Yes, and I don’t only plan to find it…

Luke: As you said, I will defeat and kill it, no matter what the price is that I must pay.

Fortune-Teller: … I understand.

Fortune-Teller: Then let me tell you one more thing.

Luke: ???

Fortune-Teller: Do you know why that dragon always flies towards that castle?

Luke: Do you mean that the treasure chest is…

Fortune-Teller: Yes. It’s because the box that it values the most is in the castle…

Fortune-Teller: When it is attacked, it will naturally return there.

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, the eclipse will end, and the sky will return to normal.

Fortune-Teller: The skies before daybreak are always the darkest…

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, when the sky is lightening, the dragon’s power will be at its weakest.

Fortune-Teller: It will also lose the ability to breathe fire.

Fortune-Teller: If you must go, go on that day.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Thank you.

Fortune-Teller: No need for thanks, but Sir Knight, let me give you one last warning.

Fortune-Teller: The path you have chosen is full of the unknown. I hope you will not regret this in the future.

Luke: I am sure that I won’t.

Fortune-Teller: That would be best.

The fortune-teller looked at the knight, smiled strangely, then left.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

After the knight cleaned his wounds, he finally had some time to rest.

Like usual, he stood his sword by his side. When he looked over the ruby on the hilt, he suddenly stopped.

Luke: This ruby… you gave it to me.

He gently stroked it, his warm breath leaving a mist on the gem with his movements.

Luke: I remember on the day I set out, you stood at the very front of those who were sending off the troops, a total mess of tears.

Luke: I was the one who was leaving, but you were even more agitated than me.

Luke: You kept reminding me to take care of myself, to not force myself.

Luke: Then I held your face with a smile, telling you that it wasn’t like I wouldn’t return.

Luke: …

The knight suddenly turned away.

Only when he was able to smile again did he turn his head back, as if everything before had just been an illusion.

Luke: Before I left, you took off a ruby from the mirror you always used and embedded it on my sword.

Luke: You said that a highly skilled person gave you that mirror, and it had magical power.

Luke: Especially these rubies, which represent inextinguishable fire and burning vitality.

Luke: We made a promise together, and then you watched me mount the horse, but I never looked back.

Luke: I thought that I would be able to see you soon after the war ended.

Luke: But now that I think about it, I should have taken one more look at you back then.

A slight bitterness appeared on the young knight’s face, but it was soon replaced by his usual expression.

He laid down on the bed, looking at the fluid moonlight in the sky.

Luke: Did you know that there’s something that I didn’t tell you back then?

Luke: Rubies don’t only represent fervour and life. They also represent love.

Luke: I told myself that after the war, I would confess to you, and let this ruby bear witness to our love.

Luke: So, please wait a little more for me.

Luke: There are still ten days.

Luke: No matter what the price is, I will be the victor.

The knight mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes.

Outside the hut, a black mist rose, then vanished in the silence. The moment that the smoke dissipated, a woman’s quiet laugh seemed to sound from deep within.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Plains

Ten days later, as the fortune-teller said, the young knight made his way towards the old castle.

But he did not successfully reach his destination, because on the plains under the castle…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: Are you here to obstruct me?

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Looks like the fortune-teller was telling the truth. The treasure chest really is in the castle.

Luke: So it must also be true that you’re at your weakest today.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

As if in response to the knight’s words, the dragon snarled in fury. Its massive claws beat heavily on the ground, drawing up plumes of dust.

The knight retreated a few steps, held up his longsword, and stood in battle stance.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: You sure look enthusiastic.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Perfect, then. Let’s have a fierce battle this time.

Luke: This is the last chance. I won’t let you escape again.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

At the edge of the sky, the black sun that had persisted for ten days started to “move”. The light of tiny stars shone through the air, casting light on the person and dragon.

The knight lifted his sword.

Luke: Let’s start.

Dust flew as the shining sword blade cut through. Both human and dragon soon were immersed in intensive battle.

Their battlegrounds shifted several times, from the plains to the mountain peak, finally arriving to the front of the castle’s door.

The eclipse was slowly retreating, and the dark sky was beginning to show its original hue.

Compared to last time, the battle this time lasted for a very, very long time.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈��┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle on the Peak

Luke: Urk…

The knight brandished his longsword, pushing himself to block the dragon’s attack.

The originally flat field had already been ruined to the point where it was difficult to stand on. Thunder boomed intermittently as dark clouds accumulated above.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The massive dragon moved again.

Luke: Ow…

Luke: …

This time, the knight’s resistance started to become sluggish.

Scorching blood sprayed out. He lost his footing, falling brutally onto the ground.

Luke: Ugh…!

Luke: No… I can’t fall yet…

He stabbed the longsword into the ground with difficulty and stood staggeringly up again.

He looked at his enemy, his bloodied, dirtied face full of resolution.

Luke: Ha… what sort of battle is this? Just a bunch of mutual killing attempts…

Luke: But did you think I’d be scared? Stop kidding around.

Luke: You have no idea what sorts of emotions I put behind each slash.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Although, you don’t need to know, because…

The knight suddenly brandished his sword and rushed at the massive dragon.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

For an instant, the heavens and earth shook. Dust and sand flew as the world was submerged in chaos.

Only the knight’s shouts cut through the air, transmitting into each and every crevice.

Luke: Even though – even though there’s no way you can hear this right now…

Luke: But, I’m sorry… I’m sorry!

Luke: I’m sorry for leaving you all alone for these eight years. I’m sorry for letting you face the dragon yourself after the eight years.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Do you know how scared I was when I returned to the village, yet didn’t see you at all…

Luke: I was scared that I would never see you again. I was scared that I couldn’t save you…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Let me see you again, alright?

Luke: Even one instant, one second is enough!

Bang--!

After an enormous sound of collision, the young man was knocked through the air onto the ground, sliding to a faraway cliff, to the very edge.

But this time, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to stand again.

Luke: …

Luke: Does it… all end here…

Luke: But I… you…

Boom—

A downpour of rain suddenly started.

  Part 5

A downpour suddenly started.

Rain struck against the ground audibly, falling on the young knight’s body, flowing towards where the blood and water had accumulated.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Am I just… going to lose like this?

The knight couldn’t control his gasps.

Luke: But…

Luke: I still… can’t bear to give in.

Luke: I still haven’t found her… I still haven’t seen her… I …

His voice was full of an unrestrained frustration and helplessness.

He tried, or even forced, himself to keep his heavy eyelids open.

Luke: …

Silence suddenly descended.

It seemed like the rain had weakened, and a small sound was resounding through the air.

Luke: !!!

The knight suddenly opened his eyes wide.

Luke: Is that you?! Is that you, MC?!

He struggled, reaching out into the emptiness.

The black mist suddenly surged over from all directions, winding around the knight’s hand, as if in a gentle “embrace”.

The knight suddenly smiled.

Luke: Are you trying to comfort me?

Luke: Mhmm, I’m not scared. Whether they’re happy things or painful things…

Luke: I don’t care about any of that anymore.

He slowly stood his sword upright, staggeringly standing up.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: I will… keep going until the final moment…

Luke: MC, you are my strength, and I will fight for you until the end of my life.

Evil Dragon: …

The dragon’s movements suddenly stopped.

It looked at the human in front of it without moving in the slightest, and it seemed as if a light had flashed in its terrifying eyes.

Luke: …

Luke: Now!

The knight brandished his sword for the last time, stabbing it deeply into the heart of the dragon.

This time, the dragon did not struggle nor attack back. It remained in its spread-winged posture as it toppled with a boom.

The turbid blood flowed out from the wound, and soon, its breathing stopped completely.

Luke: H-has it ended?

The knight slowly walked up to the dragon’s corpse. After repeated confirmations, he released a sigh, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden.

Luke: Next… I just need to find the dragon’s treasure chest to find you. Wait for me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle Interior

The knight pushed open the door to the castle.

Just as the fortune-teller said, there was a treasure chest placed in the centre of the large room.

Luke: …

He knelt with one knee to the ground, brushing off the dust on the chest.

The moment he opened the chest saw what was inside, he displayed a shocked expression.

Luke: This is…?

A mirror inlaid with ruby sat quietly on the top of the chest.

The knight reached out with both hands, carefully holding the item in front of him.

Luke: Isn’t this the one you usually use…

Luke: Ah!

Suddenly, the gem on the mirror flashed with a dazzling light.

As if induced, the ruby on the hilt of the longsword beside the knight started to shine too.

They shone together, blindingly bright.

Luke: …

Amidst the light, multiple images gradually appeared in the mirror, like a light carousel—

Luke: !!!

In that familiar village, the young woman suddenly lifted her head as she trimmed the plants, her scissors falling onto the ground.

Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Tears slid down her face, finally vanishing.

Luke: !!!

She then left the village on a journey. She walked to all the ends of the world, as if in search of something.

She traversed deserts and snowy mountains, wearing out pairs and pairs of shoes, and her originally fair skin gradually became rough.

But on her face, all there was, was day after day of ever-increasing defeat and pain.

Luke: No… I’m here, I’m still alive! I’m right here!

Finally, she arrived at this castle.

Seeming like she’d lost all hope, she collapsed on the found. Tears and blood fell, droplet after droplet, on the ruby of the mirror’s upper part.

Then, a light suddenly flashed, and the girl in the mirror vanished.

The black mist filled the mirror, and a vicious dragon flew out of the castle.

Luke: !!!

The knight’s entire body trembled.

He dropped the mirror and sprinted out the door, as if he had gone mad.

Luke: No… not possible… no way… it can’t be…

Luke: How could you have been the dragon?! No way, I couldn’t have killed you…

At some point, the storm had started to rage again.

The figure of the dragon had already vanished. What replaced it was a figure that the knight was as familiar with as could be.

Luke: No way… why…

Luke: Why!!!

He held the girl’s corpse in his arms, then howled in despair like a wild animal.

The girl’s body was as covered in wounds as the knight’s was.

The rain struck their bodies, rushing frigidly over each of their wounds, as if mocking them.

Luke: No, no way…

Luke: This isn’t real… this isn’t real…

Luke: MC--!

The knight held the girl tightly. His throat was already raw, and all the light had left his eyes.

Luke: Is that why you stopped right then? Did you recognize me?

Luke: Why didn’t you escape? Why did you wait for me to kill you?

Luke: Please open your eyes, alright, answer me!!

Luke: Why?! Why?!

Luke: Ah--!!!

The rain descended in torrents, finally trickling down to the ruby, which had lost all its shine.

   Part 6

The storm raged, and the knight’s heartrending cries never once stopped.

The air distorted for an instant. Right after, the fortune-teller stepped out from nothing, walking up to the sobbing Luke.

Fortune-Teller: Pitiful Sir Knight, you still ended up at this point.

Luke: !!!

Luke: It’s you… it’s you!

Fortune-Teller: It is indeed me, Sir Knight, the one who pointed you down this path.

Luke: Pointed me down this path… right, you know everything!

Luke: Let me ask you, did you already know that she was the dragon?!

Fortune-Teller: Yes, I know everything.

The fortune-teller looked at the young man, her voice gentle and tantalizing.

Luke: Then why did you have me find it - have me kill her?!

Fortune-Teller: I had you kill her? That’s quite an unfair accusation.

Fortune-Teller: I am a mere fortune-teller. All I can see is an established truth.

Fortune-Teller: This is her and your fate – you two are destined for an ending of death.

Luke: !!!

Luke: No way! What fate, what ending – I don’t believe any of it! There must be a way to save her!

Luke: I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep looking. I will definitely find it. I will definitely find it!

The young man clutched at the corpse in his arms and forced himself to stand.

The ground was slippery. He fell one time after another, yet he stood again, one time after another.

Fortune-Teller: …

The fortune-teller stroked the crystal ball, looking at the girl who was gradually getting colder in the rain.

Fortune-Teller: There is a way that might be able to save her, but…

Luke: What is it!

The young man shouted hysterically, but his voice was already so hoarse that he was nearly incoherent.

The fortune-teller paused, then looked at him again, her lips curving slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Simple. Make a deal with the devil, using your life.

Luke: …Deal?

Fortune-Teller: Indeed. As long as you offer your heart, she will be able to live again.

Fortune-Teller: But she will lose all memories of you…

Fortune-Teller: Perhaps she will love someone else and live a happy life, or perhaps…

Luke: What do I do?

The knight cut her words short.

Luke: Can you bear witness to the contract?

Fortune-Teller: … Of course.

Luke: Tell me what I need to do. We start immediately.

Fortune-Teller: … Alright.

The knight’s resoluteness far exceeded the fortune-teller’s expectations. After a simple explanation of the ritual, he finished his preparations.

Fortune-Teller: Will you not say any last words to her?

The fortune-teller placed the crystal ball in front of her, looking towards the silent knight.

Luke: …

The knight lowered his head, looking at the girl in his arms.

Luke: I never would have thought that our last meeting would be like this…

Luke: But at least you can continue to live…

The corners of the knight’s mouth lifted with difficulty. He reached out, pushing aside a lock of hair aside on the girl’s face.

Like a deep, yet wordless, farewell.

Luke: There are some things that I didn’t have the time to say before, but it shouldn’t be too late to say them now…

Luke: I…

The knight closed his eyes.

He slowly lowered his head, solemnly and gently kissing the hair of the girl in his arms.

Luke: Goodbye, MC. I pray that your life from today onwards will be happy and joyful.

He looked at her face, looking as if she were in a deep slumber, and said this to her for the very first and very last time—

Luke: I love you.

Right after he spoke, he stabbed his sword into his chest.

Bright red blood covered the marks that had dried on the sword. Thunder boomed as rain fell in torrents.

His heartbeat’s sound gradually stopped.

Fortune-Teller: …

Fortune-Teller: Hahahaha, hahahahaha—

The fortune-teller suddenly burst into laughter.

A black mist gradually wrapped around her. Her body and clothes changed form, finally turning into the form of a witch.

Witch: Hahahaha, what fate, what ending, what deal with the devil? Utterly foolish, truly, ridiculously foolish!

Witch: Although… thank you both. I found this drama quite the satisfying watch!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

MC: …

My consciousness gradually awakened.

MC: Luke! Don’t do anything stupid!

MC: She’s obviously doing this deliberately! Don’t get tricked by her!

I tried my best to call out his name, yet I anxiously noticed that I could not even make the slightest of sounds.

MC: Luke!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke’s Home, Third Floor

*Tira’s note: The date itself said it was the second floor, but his living quarters (the background shown) are on the third floor, not the second.

MC: Luke!

I sprung awake from my dream.

And because of this tiny movement, Luke instinctively popped off the sofa, standing upright on the floor.

I lifted my head and looked hazily at Luke, and my consciousness gradually returned to reality.

MC: …

Luke: …

We looked wordlessly at each other for a few seconds, then couldn’t help laughing together.

Then, Luke gently sat back down beside me.

Luke: What happened? Did you have a nightmare?

MC: Mhmm…

As I gave an affirmative, I moved my body a little, realizing that my arms and legs had become a little numb. My chest also felt somewhat stuffy.

MC: (Huh, was I sleeping in a weird pose? I don’t think so…)

Just as I was thinking, Luke started to rotate his shoulders too.

Luke: Why are my arms this sore all of a sudden… I’m sure that I slept pretty well…

MC: …

Luke: Huh? What’s the matter?

MC: I figured it out…

Luke: What?

The only reason why our arms were so sore… probably was because Luke was holding me the whole time while we had an afternoon nap.

MC: (So that nightmare… probably also happened because of this…)

I felt both a little frustrated and amused, and seeing Luke’s dubious expression, I couldn’t help laughing aloud.

Luke: What’s the matter?

MC: Nothing, I just hadn’t woken up completely from my dream yet.

Luke: Alright, you’re fine now. I’m here with you.

Luke: If you’re still scared, then should I sing a song for our great lawyer?

MC: Sure!

I knew Luke was just teasing me, but I felt like either way, it would be pretty nice to listen to him sing for me again.

Luke: Then sit comfy first.

MC: Mhmm.

I shifted over a bit, and Luke sat down beside me, covering us up again with the blanket.

Then, he gently wrapped his arms around me.

Luke: Then, what does the great lawyer want to listen to? Twinkle Twinkle again?

MC: Yep!

I looked up at him, and then Luke started to tap my shoulder like a metronome as he began singing.

Luke: Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Luke: How I wonder what you are…

MC: …

As Luke sang, my emotions gradually calmed down.

Amidst this relaxation, I couldn’t help thinking of the scene in that dream again.

MC: (A ten-day eclipse… man, the weird stuff I come up with.)

MC: (Did the earth stop spinning or did the sun just check out of work? So ridiculous…)

MC: (Plus, how could Luke be tricked by someone like that…)

MC: (Although…)

Though that was what I was thinking, I still knew…

Just like the knight in my dream, the love and protection Luke gave to me was always that silent, yet so etched into his very being.

But unlike the dream, we were now walking towards a happy future together.

I would hold his hand tightly, and I would never let go.

MC: …

The afternoon sunlight pervaded the room, and a slight breeze blew past. Everything was as great as always.

On the storage cabinet on the side, the mirror and sword model were stacked together. Under the sunlight, the rubies flashed faintly.

They looked somewhat familiar.

 Phonecall

Hi! Good morning, are you up yet?

Ah… I bought a medieval-themed game that looks really interesting, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to play it together.

This game also has dual-player co-op mode. We can hit new game records together, just like in the past.

The game plot? Seems like a knight went on a quest to slay a dragon to find his missing lover.

I feel like this story’s pretty remarkable, and the animations done for the fights with the dragon in the middle were done really realistically…

Huh, what’s the matter? Why do you have such a pained expression on?

You don’t want to play this game… why? Does the plot make you feel uncomfortable?

Huh?! You had a nightmare with the same plot? And the main characters were you and me?! And we didn’t even get a good ending?!

Pfft… silly, it’s just a dream, don’t take it to be real.

Plus, doesn’t everyone always say that dreams and reality are the opposite?

You saw a bad ending, which means that we’ll have a good ending. So don’t be afraid, it’s all fine.

Hm… if you still don’t feel at ease, then how about we work together to beat this game?

I’ll prove to you that we’ll definitely reach the Happy Ending!

[konietzko-sylvoran]

“In memory of so many whom we've lost, this next one is a personal message to every elf of every creed. A roué cyr act which follows meant to inspire elvish solidarity. Written and performed by the Heart of Tenacity's Konietzko Lumenstone, we give you One more Dorei.”

(Written/Timed Music Here)  

The lights are dim so all that is seen is the silhouette of Kon’s figure sitting with his back to the audience. Above him higher up than he could reach even while standing is his LED cyr wheel. As the LEDs start to illuminate, they emit a soft glow making the wheel look like a giant moon in the sky above Kon’s figure. Dangling from the bottom of the wheel is a large banner on display. Two more lights on the right and left of the stage give spotlight to the banner on display so one can see every detail of it. The Shaldorien Silk banner, embroidered with Thalassian gold threads dons the traditional colors of each elvish nation, woven together in an elegant arrangement that's certain to inspire unity in their kinship! To anyone who had ever visited the Ashes of Alar booth at any event, it was clear this was the Banner of Accord made by Tenacious Tapestries meant to represent elvish solidarity. The stage wall behind the wheel and Kon both illuminate with starlight across a vast night sky of blue and violet. Kon’s dark skin glistens from the subtle light catching hints of the sparkling paint he’s coated in giving him the desired astral effect.

With his back still to the audience as he sits there, he raises his head up to stare at the night sky and the moonlit banner above as his dreadlocks kiss the small of his back tied back in a formal knot. His deep chocolate voice speaks aloud as the music begins to play. “We elves were once all Children of the Stars. All the same Dorei, children of the same light in the sky. No matter how old or young, we are all descendants of the starborne. Today, we are a race so divided and thinned that the few remaining lights among us have become dim with hatred, sorrow, and arrogance. Many of us know and understand the reasons why. Some, like me, have lived through most of them. And yet with all I’ve experienced, all I’ve endured, I keep looking among us all no matter our creed and asking the same thing. Is it so wrong of us to call one another brothers and sisters? In a time where unity is so needed in our world, where lights go out around us at an alarming rate, I ask that all dorei take a moment in to hear me out.” 

Raising one hand up towards the sky backdrop, he arcs his hand one side to the other tracking a shooting star across the sky. “The kaldorei were once founders of Azeroth’s most magical and advanced civilization till forces out of our control came and divided us all. No matter our current race, we’ve all suffered great and tragic losses repeatedly over time and even currently. We’re no longer immortal.” He turns his head to the side to look to a single wisp as it approaches him from above and hovers at his side. Kon’s amber eyes were masked with subtle feathers and glitter along the cheekbones and eye ridges to look like that of an owl. “And yet in all the brilliance this world has to offer us, we have learned that none of it is meant to be kept. Not even our own souls. As time ticks on we each become mere flickers of light, mere moments in time.”

“I was but a boy when devastation wrought us all into several isolated groups and history continues to repeat itself as more and more dorei are created.” He holds his hand out to the wisp as it starts to slowly circle around him. “Separation, isolation, banishment, betrayals, fractured societies and exile have repeated themselves among the dorei time and time again. Each time our skin changes color, our hair and our eyes take on a new tone and the magic that we wield finds a new source changing us forever.”

“Time and history has taught us all how to fear, how to hate and how to change. But even with all our differences, rather we worship the moon, the sun, the void or whatever deity we choose, are we not still one dorei?” Slowly he rises to his feet wearing nothing but a uniquely designed legging with enchanted thread that hugs tight at his hips. “We’ve all derived from the magical in nature no matter how old our bloodlines are currently or how very new and altered they’ve become. Do we not all still have glowing eyes no matter their color? Though some have gotten shorter or longer, do our ears not all point at the end?” He reaches up and the cyr wheel lowers down towards him as he removes the Banner of Accord from the wheel. The wisp flew around the wheel and Kon both a few times before disappearing.

The magical thread along his leggings shimmer from hip to ankle as the threads change color to each elvish nation’s colors as he speaks of them. “Kaldorei, Quel’dorei, Ren’dorei, Sin’dorei, Shal’dorei and even Shen’dralar. We are all one people.” He turns to walk to the side of the stage and places the banner on a golden standard waiting there, letting it hang and display itself magnificently. “I believe in unity among us, that we need to show kindness to all and make sure no more fall. Respecting others is what we should do, who knows it might even spread more happiness too. At the end of the day even those who have strayed we are all the same. Noone is better than another, it’s not in a name.” He turns and walks back center stage as the sky illuminates in more and more stars behind him and his wheel starts to twinkle as if stars are slowly twinkling behind him. Kon faces the audience with amber eyes full of emotion and determination through his owl mask. “You never know when your life will be changed so don’t look down on others who face troubles of their own. We are all dorei, all children of the stars whose lights are just as important as all the others.” He slowly flourishes his hands out right and left. “My brothers, my sisters, a moment may be all we have left in the sky of a million stars. Care and respect are things we can all freely give. And for that last light you touch, it may even make this world a better place to live.”

In a slow, fluid motion he lowers himself down to bend one knee back through the wheel and the other forward as he bows his head. The wheel and stage go dark as spotlights go out all but the light on the Banner of Accord.

(Music for the second half here)

The cyr wheel lights back up, LEDs twinkling timed with the music. With practiced finesse, he rolls the heavy wheel on its edge, causing it to trace a slow path around him as he slowly rises up. The LEDs transition via soft fades from gold to soft blues to turquoise, reflecting the colors of the High elves, even his leggings and their magical thread match the colors. Hands both reach out then slowly curl into fists as he hugs them to his chest as if in pain. Turning his body to the side in a fluid movement, he reaches for the circling wheel then starts to slowly walk it around the stage in a wide slow circle with perfect timing to the music. His other hand rises and falls in time with the music to express a gentle magical  emotion through movement. Everything is perfectly timed as if walking through memory.

The stage wall behind him starts to reflect colors that strongly suggest the feel and warmth of the sunwell’s magic. The Cyr wheel starts to lose the blues and greens, fading into more golden with droplets of red as did his leggings. Shadows crept through the backdrop as the colors became corrupt, flickering. With athletic precision he steps into the wheel with both feet and grabs the edges with both hands. Revolving in a continuous wide pattern resembling a waltz, he spins and turns synched with the music, conveying a delicate balance and grace as colors still flicker about him. One hand releasing the wheel, he reaches it up and out as if trying to chase after or grasp at some unseen force.

The moment the base hits the wheel LEDS become a flurry of red and golden patterns with occasional green trying to sneak in then fade or flicker out. With both hands now gripping the top of the wheel in a wide outstretched grip, he raises both feet off the wheel, extending his body out while facing down. As if flying midair for two spins, one foot comes back down and then flares back out making the wheel spin faster and faster all in sync with the patterns of the LEDS conveying the flurry of intense magic and emotion at the pinnacle of Blood elven society. He suddenly locks his shoulders and forces the wheel to make tighter spins as it starts to fall with his back to the ground! Resembling a coin losing speed as it becomes flatter it seems he might fall on his back with the wheel at any moment. The LEDs a flurry of confusing flashing colors trapping him inside the chaos showing just how difficult this move and the emotions he’s portraying are. His body remains locked, keeping him from falling and at the last second he throws himself into a handspring then brings the wheel and himself erect once more.

The stage backdrop became a giant violet dome with the night sky above it. The LEDs of his wheel and leggings are now variations of blues, violets, silvers and pinks, reflecting the colors of the Nightborne. Slipping out of the wheel, he keeps it spinning as both hands push it on a course with just enough force to keep the wheel freely orbiting around him. Kon stands at the center as his head turns down and eyes close as he brings his arms up across his chest as if holding himself. His right palm presses over his heart as he quivers, eyes opening slowly as he turns his head skyward, right hand raising up reaching to the stars. The LEDs suddenly become shrouded in a dark deep violet and the dome in the backdrop becomes swaying tendrils of the same color. Konietzko grasps at his head and mimics a blood-curdling scream without sound as his wheel takes on golden elements around the deep violet LEDS strongly reflective of the Void Elves.

Spinning on his toes he comes around to grab the wheel and with one more spin he steps back into it. His ankles together on one side of the wheel, syncing with the beat and a slight bend in his knees before pushing off still in the corner of the wheel. His body comes up perfectly parallel to the stage as the wheel quickly whips up and around bringing him back down. He bends his knees while it rotates and repeats his actions as the corner thrusts and momentum increases the speed of the wheel once more while displaying his total control of where the wheel spins and lands with each rotation. The LEDs swap between the prior color groups back and forth with every thrust.

As the beat picks back up the LED’s become a flurry of every elven nation’s colors in various patterns. Each time he spins the wheel a trail of color follows as starlight starts to fall around him. Placing his feet and arms both spread wide with a slight bend in the knees he brings the wheel to a fast rotation. However the wheel starts moving in a wide full revolution around the full circumference of the stage. Faster and faster he brings the rotation as his dreads spin about with him. At the peak of his speed around the stage, the LEDs and backdrop all burst into the kaleidoscope of a full night sky with stars of varying colors. Kon brings the fast spinning wheel center stage once more, back onto its own axis. 

Using his built-up momentum he rises up suddenly, bringing himself up over the top of the wheel as one leg wraps over the top of it and the other bent and pointing in the opposite direction. He raises his hand up high as he spins among the stars truly living in the moment. The LEDs of the wheel start to take on more purple, golden and silver hues all together, the colors of the Night Elves. After a few more rotations, he unwraps his leg and lowers himself back down as he shows his athletic precision, suspending himself from the top mid-spin. Feet tucked up, he points one toe down till it softly touches the bottom of the wheel. His hand comes out while the wheel continues to spin and flourishes out towards the audience at the lyrics of who cares if one more light goes out. He then stops the wheel in a slow and graceful spin as he steps out of it and then motions to himself as his free hand places itself on his chest before he takes a deep bow before them all and the LEDs fade away into nothing but that night sky of all dorei.

((A huge shout out to @lunethdawnseeker and the Ashes of Alar vendors who have always been so wonderful and kind to Kon and Talthorn every event we meet them at! The moment the thought occurred to write this performance to inspire elvish solidarity which Talthorn and Kon are both so passionate about, I instantly knew that the Banner of Accord had to be used within it so a big thank you to Luneth and their Tenacious Tapestries for giving me permission to use it in Kon’s performance. It has a very special place on their wall at home where they proudly display it as a sign to all who enter. All credit for the banner goes to them and their original design! The following performance was written for the @succulent-tart In Memoriam show 9.18.2021  - in honor of Chester Bennington’s One More Light and every fallen elf of every race we’ve lost over the years.)) 

[honeyedhoseok]

eight minutes || jjk (m)

Genre | very light smut, angst if you squint, car salesman!jungkook x reader

Word Count | 2.2K

Warnings | language, dry humping in a Mercedes Benz (fancy!), infidelity

Summary | A mid-shift rendezvous with your favorite stupid salesman, Jeon Jungkook. 

A/N | Hi everyone...I’m back?

“Eight minutes, Jungkook,” you say, poking a finger to his chest. “No more. And if you try to persuade me this time—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. “It’ll never happen again, you’ll get in so much trouble, blah blah blah.” He opens the rear passenger door to the shiny, black-on-black Mercedes Benz parked beside you two. “You gonna get in?”

You nod, although somewhat stubbornly with a clenched jaw, and duck into the low-sitting vehicle, sliding across the black leather so that you’re behind the driver's seat. Jungkook ducks in after you, shutting the door and grunting as his knees hit too close to his chest due to the small proximity of the luxury model you two were about to make out in.

It probably wasn’t the best—or easiest—place to have an after-work rendezvous at, but you would take what you could get.

“Man, fuck these small ass cars,” he mumbles, reaching for the seat motor button on the passenger side. “I don’t know why anyone would want a GLA anyways, this shit has the smallest, low-roof interior of any car on our sales lot. A real downer to anyone over five-foot-seven.”

He grumbles to himself as the seat slowly moves forward, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expected cuteness of it all.

“Mmmmm,” you say, grinning as you rub your hand along his leg. “Love it when you talk cars to me, baby.”

Jungkook smirks back at you, finally able to free his legs and sit with them wide open, and he settles against the leather seating, patting his lap.

“That wasn’t part of my eight minutes,” he warns you. “It starts the second you come over here, princess.”

You nod, already up in your seat and ready to swing your leg over his and straddle his lap. “You bet your ass it does,” you murmur, placing your hands on either side of his face and bringing his sweet, sweet mouth to yours.

He sighs a little in content, arms slithering around your body to press one palm to your hip and the other to the small of your back, ultimately bringing you as close to him as possible. Jungkook alters between kissing your bottom and top lip as always, making you melt into him—the thoughts of the previous difficult workday fading with each flick of his tongue against yours, every nibble of his teeth against your lips.

“Fuck,” he grunts as you pull away, mouthing a trail across his jawline to the taunt skin of his neck. “I needed this—this fucking—customer today changed their mind, at the last minute—”

“Jeon,” you say, pulling back to look into his eyes.

Although they are half-lidded, they stare at you with an amused sort of curiosity, and his teeth sneak out to sink into his bottom lip in anticipation of your oncoming scolding. 

“Is this really what you want to talk about right now?” you ask, eyeing the situation of your bodies in the backseat of a dealer-tagged Mercedes on the lot. “Think about it real hard.”

Jungkook just flashes you his signature shitty salesman grin—one that you’ve seen him give to female customers when he knows he’s about to get them hook, line, and sinker. His hand that was previously kneading one side of your hip comes up to caress your face, and he rubs his thumb across your cheek with delicate swipes.

“No,” he says finally, his eyes dropping from yours and lingering on your other features. “Fuck, you’re so pretty—you know that?”

Your face warms even though he’s said a multitude of things like this in the past. If there was one thing Jeon Jungkook was, it was a sweet talker. You’d thought at some point over the past few months of fooling around with him you’d get used to it, but every time he said something your heart beat just as fast as the first. It was sad, really, how hard you’d fallen for him, but you’d never let him know.

“Shut up,” you say, unconvincingly. “And why do you hate on GLA’s? Millennials like us are supposed to love them.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And you sold that annoying woman one today, remember?” you say spitefully, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’d look absolutely stunning in a GLA, Mrs.—”

“Hey, stop wasting my time,” he teases, interrupting your rant while easing your mouth down to his for a small lick at your bottom lip. “You only gave me eight minutes to kiss the life out of you, and I can’t when you’re looking at me all mad like that.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, but you roll your eyes anyways. “I’m not mad,” you say, leaning back down and brushing your lips against his.

“Good,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and leaning up to press a small kiss against your mouth. “I hate it when you’re mad,” he sighs.

Your heart does a weird, warm flip-flop in your chest and you push the feelings that threaten to rush to the surface with a hard press of your mouth to his. Jungkook takes it as you getting back into the mood, and his hands grip at the bottom of your work shirt tucked into your slacks, pulling it up and out so that his hands can palm the warm skin of your stomach. 

You groan a little, threading your hands through his thick locks, licking into his mouth with fervor. Jungkook was an incredibly good kisser, you’d give him that, but what really took the cake was the way he couldn’t keep his hands off you whenever you two were in a secluded space. 

He was constantly running his palms along your body, threading his fingers through your hair, massaging the base of your neck with a tender touch, running his fingers along your lips, the slope of your chin, the curve of your earlobe. A single touch from him set your nerve-endings alight with life, and it didn’t help that in your current situation you were fixated right on his lap--everything you had was touching Jungkook, and Jungkook was certainly touching everything you had, making your brain one melty, jumbled mess. 

You take a breather from his intoxicating mouth as he presses wet, sloppy kisses to your neck. You grin up at the ceiling as you tilt your head back, a breathy laugh escaping. 

“What?” he murmurs against the dip of your clavicle. “You’re always laughing at me, Y/N.”

“I am not,” you argue, but the grin on your face gives you away. “Okay, I do laugh a lot, but it’s like a nervous tick—”

Jungkook noses his way beneath your ear, pressing a kiss to the hollow space there. “You have a lot of those, by the way.”

“Oh yeah?” you say. “Elaborate.”

“Well, there’s that one,” he pauses to place a small kiss to your chin. “And you’re constantly messing with your rings—you always take the one on your right hand on and off.”

“True,” you hum. “Anything else?”

Jungkook eyes your mouth with a kind of hunger that makes your insides jump, before saying, “You do this thing with your tongue sometimes—it’s like running it across all your upper teeth while you’re thinking, or before you’re about to say something you’ve been thinking. Honestly, it drives me fucking crazy, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” 

You grin easily at him—for some reason his praise gives you confidence, and you lean closer to his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook murmurs, struggling to maintain eye contact when he can feel your breath on his lips. “Feels like an invitation.”

“Oh, it is,” you say with a smile, before leaning down agonizingly slow until your lips barely brush against his. You do it once, twice, before finally giving him a real kiss, letting your mouths meld together into a mess of movements that get increasingly hot and heavy as moments go by. 

When Jungkook sneaks his tongue out, letting it slide against your bottom lip, you sigh heavily into his mouth, which he takes advantage of by inviting himself to taste any remains of the coffee you tried to cover up with the breath mints you snatched from the lobby right before you walked outside to meet him. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind, of course. That’s what makes it all worse. Jungkook was so vocal all the time with his opinions, whether they be on cars, sales, business, music, movies, or how he felt about you. The latter of those was what really fucked you up. You didn’t understand how someone could be so good with saying exactly what they were thinking all the time, but he was.

As if on cue, he pulls back from you to rest his head against the seat, looking up at you with curious eyes that has your heart hammering in your chest.

“What?” you say, nervous. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just—seriously mad about this back seat,” he says, exasperated, looking around. “I haven’t spent much time back here but I seriously can’t believe how small this shit is—”

“Jungkook,” you groan, taking your hand that was entangled in his hair and giving the strands a small yank. “I fucking—”

“You fucking what?” Jungkook asks, giving you a teasing grin that lets you know he’s messing with you. His hands slip down to your ass just as he flexes his hips, letting his hardened cock in his pants brush against your center. “Tell me.”

“You tell me first,” you say, breathless, automatically returning the motions of his hips with little swivels of your own. 

It was so effortless like this all the time with Jungkook--switching back and forth between laughter and sexual tension that made for your whole relationship to be much more intimate than anything you could have ever imagined. 

In the early stages, you were a nervous mess around him; you were always unsure of yourself, unsure of how he was going to take any of your advances or the things you said or did, but Jungkook was nothing like the man he seemed. 

In the dealership he was clean cut—prim and proper in his slacks, button-up and tie, with a blinding smile straight out of a Crest 3D White commercial--and the only time you ever got to see him goofing off was if you walked past the sales manager’s office at the right time, or happened to walk out on the smoking stoop in the middle of one of his conversations.  

It started slow, a conversation or two about mild topics letting you get to know each other, until suddenly you realized you were looking at the clock anxiously as it neared time for him to come in, making one too many trips to the bathroom to walk by his office, and spending a little extra time on your lunch to sit in the break room in case he came in. 

But that was all it ever was. A bunch of rendezvous at the dealership, a few sneaky, short-winded texts after work, and an infinite amount of longing on both ends. This was how it had to be, though, and you could either take it or leave it. 

For now, you were going to take anything you could get, no matter how it made you feel after it was over. It mattered in the moment. 

And in this moment, currently, Jungkook was grinding his dick in just the right spot against your clit that you were digging your fingernails into his shoulders, breathing into his mouth heavily in between sloppy kisses that were really just smashes of lips against each other with no real rhythm. 

“Damn it, baby,” he growls, nipping at your bottom lip. His hands lay heavily on your ass, aiding you in grinding on his lap. “I want you so fucking bad.”

You nod, leaning your forehead against his. You both know that you can’t do anything right here on the lot, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to—or from grinding on each other in a way that’s going to make Jungkook have to think about dead puppies to soften up, and leave you with sticky panties for the rest of your shift. 

But hey, no one told you to fall in love with a salesman. You did that all on your own accord. And it wasn’t so much the fact that you and Jungkook didn’t want to take your relationship to the next level, it’s that you couldn’t. 

Later—way past your eight minute mark—when you are sitting beside Jungkook in the backseat with your body pressed against his, his head leaned down onto yours where he presses a soft kiss into your hair, you reach over and grab his hand and thread your fingers through in a tight hold. 

Sunlight breaks through the dreary, cloudy day for just a moment, beaming through the windshield and catching light on the solid, silver band wrapped around Jungkook’s left ring finger. Your eyes trail down to where his thumb traces a soft pattern over your own, and you flip his hand on instinct so that the cool metal is pressed against your slacks. 

Out of sight, out of mind—right? 

[misskikuwrites]

Out in the Open

Bederia Week 2020

Open Prompt

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

@bede-x-gloria

-

Bede tugged absently at the fluffy cravat puffing out of his intricate suit, trying desperately to ignore the make-up artist working on his hair. His whole body was as stiff as concrete. His stomach churned sickly with regret as he chided himself silently for accepting Gloria's invitation. Sure, that would have made him the only Gym Leader to decline being a part of the charity photoshoot, but perhaps that would have been better than to be stuffed in a suit that looked a few centuries out of date, to have make-up artists fawn over his soft, pale skin and mess with his hair.

He had half a mind to swat away the hands currently fitting extensions into his hair. He wasn't sure how much more of that he could take when he was finally released from the artist and stood, walking away from the mirror to where Gloria was currently being photographed with Milo. Her long brown hair had been split into two braids, a straw hat on her head. The scene was set up like a farm, Gloria propping a foot on a bale of hay, a pitchfork in her hand. She and Milo wore matching overalls and hats, a Wooloo sleeping at their feet. The thick smell of straw permeated the studio. The camera flashed rapidly, a rally of quick clicks as dozens of photos were snapped every second.

Gloria laughed at something, Milo smiling sheepishly. Bede watched silently from afar as assistants rushed in and out of the scene, shifting things this way and that, directing Gloria and Milo where to stand, where to look. Another round of photos taken, Gloria was ushered away quickly to change behind a screen. She had a different outfit for every photo.  Each Gym Leader had a photoshoot with the Champion, which meant Gloria had eight separate outfits to change into. Different hairstyles, different make-up pallets.

Exhaustion began to show in Gloria's smile when she was off the set. Under the lights, in the view of the camera, any hint of fatigue vanished as if a veil had been lifted off her face. Bede didn't know how long she'd been here; he'd rocked up less than an hour ago and she'd been in the middle of a shoot then too.

Bede watched curiously as the farm set transformed into the backdrop of an ocean, a sandy beach forming beneath the blinding lights. Nessa stepped forward, stretching her arms above her head as she took her place. She wore a slim fitting swimsuit reminiscent of her Gym Uniform, the wetsuit-type top revealing her dark, toned midriff, the high cut of her bikini bottoms showing off her long legs. Her hair was pinned up in a neat, stylish bun. Nessa smiled at someone to the side, laughing.

"Come on, you look great!" Nessa called, batting her long eyelashes sweetly. "You don't have to be shy!"

Gloria breathed a tight, nervous laugh as she stepped out. "I don't usually wear such… revealing clothing…"

Bede choked on air. Gloria's outfit perfectly matched Nessa's. A sleeveless wetsuit top that ended above her navel, the zip down the front undone slightly to reveal her collarbones. Her long, slim legs bare to the world. Gloria tugged at the base of her top, attempting to yank it lower. An embarrassed blush coloured her cheeks a delicate pink.

Nessa laughed. "That's not revealing, that's just a swimsuit!"

Gloria absently touched the top of her bun, her hair neatly tied above her head. Loose strands framed her flushed cheeks. She nodded stiffly, shooting a nervous glance around the room before her gaze landed on Bede. She stiffened suddenly, eyes blowing wide. A jolt of heat shot down Bede's spine. He raised a hand in what he hoped was a casual wave, leaning against the wall lest he topple over at the sight of her. Gloria ducked her head, returning his wave with a curt lift of her hand.

Arceus, he hoped he wasn't gawking like a fool at her. He swallowed thickly, folding his arms in an attempt to seem more relaxed.

A quiet laugh sounded next to him and Bede jumped. His heart lodged high in his throat as he turned to see Marnie grinning coyly at him. A sharp, knowing smile on her dark purple lips.

The jolt of shameful embarassment dispersed quickly as Bede blinked at Marnie. She wore a dark purple and black dress with an immense number of frills and layers, ending at her knees. It had long, frilly sleeves and large ribbons, her shoes a similar colour and style. She held a dark parasol in her hands, an innumerable amount of ribbons and lace decorating it. Her hair was curled immaculately, resting gently on her shoulders.

"Too bad you missed our shoot," Marnie said. "You should've seen what Gloria was wearin'."

Bede kept his expression neutral, forcing the embarrassment off his face. "And why would I have cared to see that?"

"Well, since you're here starin' at her with your mouth hangin' open, I thought you'd wanna see the pictures I took of her." Marnie shrugged. "Guess not."

Bede touched his jaw anxiously, making sure that it definitely wasn't hanging open. He could feel the amused look Marnie was giving him. She took out her phone, swiping across the screen.

"Too bad. She's super pretty…"

Bede narrowed his eyes at the back of Marnie's phone. She was baiting him. But… if there really was a picture…

Marnie turned her phone around to show him, a shot of Piers staring back at him. "Gotcha. There's no pic. Not allowed to take 'em."

Bede scowled. "I wasn't interested anyway."

Marnie chuckled quietly again before leaving to change out of her complicated dress. Bede breathed a deep sigh of relief and focused on keeping his expression in check. With the other Gym Leaders wandering around, some getting into their outfits and others ready to leave, Bede couldn't risk being seen staring, gawking, like a lovestruck fool at Gloria. It was bad enough that Hop, Marnie and Ms Opal were well aware of his feelings - at least they had the decency to keep quiet about it. The other Gym Leaders… may not have that kind of tact.

Bede brought out his phone, acting as if he were more interested in his scrolling through his feed than the photoshoot going on in front of him. He kept his looks to short glances, lifting his eyes from his phone for no more than a second or two at a time. He stifled a laugh at the brief look of panic on Gloria's face as she was seated sideways on the back of Nessa's Drednaw, her legs hanging over the side.

It wasn't long until Gloria was ushered away again, the beach disappeared and the interior of a ballroom taking its place. The photographer motioned Bede over and his chest fluttered. He strode over, flexing his clammy hands, and tried to focus on the scene being built, on the instructions of the photographer. They'd gone with a fairytale theme for the Fairy Gym, Bede styled like a prince and Gloria…

Like a princess.

Like something straight out of a picture book, Gloria was mesmerising. Her dress was themed like his suit, a soft, pale pink, flowing graceful from her waist to the floor. The bodice fit to her curves, detailed with intricate lace and threads. Long sleeves fell to her wrists, Gloria nervously playing with them as she approached. She stepped into the light, stepped up beside him, and Bede couldn't breathe.

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink, her lips glossy and pert. Her eyelids shimmered and sparkled in the light when she blinked, her eyes lined finely and accentuated. Her hair rolled lusciously over her shoulders in thick curls and when Bede's breath hitched in his throat he smelt peach and vanilla and wondered if that was what her lips would taste like-

Gloria's laugh made him jolt. "I look so strange, don't I? This doesn't suit me at all…!"

Arceus, Bede couldn't answer her. He couldn't admit that she was wrong and gorgeous and breathtaking; she'd stolen his breath and he never wanted to breathe again if it meant this moment would last forever. His mouth dropped open with words he couldn't say.

"Oh, your hair!" Gloria exclaimed. "It's so long!" She peered around him at the extensions running down his neck in a loose ponytail.

"It's rather ridiculous," Bede said, taking the moment to catch his flustering breath.

"I like it! It looks so sophisticated!" She smiled at him, her eyes widened after a moment. "Oh wow, your eyelashes look so long! Did they put make-up on you too?"

Gloria leant in close, standing on her toes and peering into his eyes. Bede stiffened like he'd turned to stone on the spot. The air died in his lungs. She was so close - too close - and all Bede could see was her gorgeous, honey-brown eyes, those glossy lips of hers parted slightly in awe, and he breathed in that heavenly scent again, his eyes fluttering closed in a wave of mortified embarrassment under her intense gaze.

"Alright - places, please!" the photographer called and Gloria stepped away for a moment. A moment of respite that soon shattered. The assistants rushed about, directing Bede and Gloria closer together. She ducked her head shyly as Bede was directed to place one hand around the back of her waist, the other holding hers. Gloria rested her other hand on his shoulder, flushing darkly as they stepped closer together so their chests were almost touching. They were posed to dance. Directed to meet each other's eyes.

It was akin to torture when they were asked to perform a few steps of the dance so that Gloria's dress would sway. Bede could hardly remember to breathe let alone the steps, on not treading on her feet. His hands felt too sweaty, too clammy. All he could see was her; under the blinding lights the rest of the world darkened and it was just her. Just Gloria, just this moment between them. Finally, she managed a smile and Bede's heart swelled. He was filled to the brim with dizzying warmth, captivated by the look in her eyes. He didn't notice that the photos had been taken until the set began to change around them.

The ballroom changed into a gorgeous garden, lush grass rolled out at their feet. They were directed to lie on it, assistants moving around them to fix their hair, Gloria's dress, as Bede lay on his back, Gloria on her side. It was only when Bede was told to look at her did he realise how close they were again. He shifted onto his side, taking her hand that lay between them as directed, and tried to fight the fire burning on his cheeks.

Oh, Arceus. It was impossible. Impossible to keep the adoration from his eyes, the longing pull of his heart from his face. His hand trembled as he cupped hers, threading their fingers together. He saw the slight widening of her eyes, the slight catch of her breath.

He wondered what she saw in his eyes as she studied his gaze. He wondered what it was he saw smouldering behind her dark eyes. The lights warmed her cheeks, the rosy make-up dusted across her cheekbones like a soft blush.

Then, Gloria laughed. A short, sweet sheepish breath of laughter that doused Bede in a sudden wave of calm.

"Sorry," she whispered quickly, laughter making her sound light and airy. "You look like a fairy."

Her comment filled him with warmth. He felt himself smile. "And you look like a silly woman who thought it was a good idea to dance with said fairy."

She giggled and Bede melted. His gaze melted and softened and he succumbed to this moment that would never come again. He let himself smile, gave in to his heart, the yearning ache in his chests, and melted for her.

It was over too soon, the garden disappearing around them as they sat up. Bede brushed a lock of hair off his face, breathing a quick sigh as he looked away from Gloria. His face burned, ached from his blush and the smile he'd worn.

"Um… Bede?" Gloria asked quietly, and Bede looked at her to find she was looking at the ground between them. "You're… still holding my hand."

Bede shot his eyes to their hands, fingers still entwined, and stole his hand away with a start. Fire erupted in his lungs.

"S-Sorry," he apologized quickly, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He stood up stiffly, flexing his fingers at his sides. He ducked his head with a shameful flush and left to change out of his outfit. He couldn't look at her.

He could still feel the touch of her hand in his.

-

Bede could have died in mortification when the prints were released. As one of the models, Bede got a complementary set of pictures from his shoot for free, and decided to look at them in the privacy of his room where he didn't have to worry about prying eyes and knowing smiles.

A wildfire of heat, of scorching flames and dizzying warmth, spread through every inch of his body as he laid the prints out on his bed. Out there in the open, in every single shot, was the obvious adoration in Bede's eyes. His smile was soft, softer than he'd ever seen or realised, captured for all eternity and glaring back at him. A soft flush of pink coloured his cheeks in the photos.

Bede could have died then and there, but decided to focus instead on Gloria and not the lovestruck longing in his eyes and a different kind of heat washed over him. A flutter started in his belly, rising into his lungs until he could hardly breathe.

A dazzling light shined in Gloria's eyes. Her smile was bright and free and full of life. Her eyes crinkled in that adorable way they did sometimes. She smiled as they danced, as they lay on the lush grass together. As he smiled that soft, longing smile at her.

Bede swallowed an incoherent scream in his throat, cupping his face in his hands. He smouldered with heat right to the very tips of his ears.

Arceus. How could participating in the photoshoot be such a good and bad idea simultaneously?

He had these pictures to himself, a memory of those breathtaking moments, but also knew that these very same photos were available for everyone to see and buy.

And Gloria would have seen them too.

Oh, Arceus.

Sweet, holy mother of Arceus.

He didn't know if he could deal with that.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 6 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hey there darlings! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Fame’s email about a collection reconceptualization had everyone in a panic.

This Chapter: Pearl does her boss a solid, and then the dreaded meeting occurs...

***

Pearl Liaison wasn’t a genius, but it didn’t take one to figure out that today would be a rough one.

The company was in quiet chaos, everyone trying their absolute best not to alert their superiors that they were freaking out, her own staff included, but Pearl could see it on them easily.

Pearl had spent the morning putting together a deck of research based on current trends, her and Trixie emailing back and forth as her best friend tried to keep his department under control. By the time she handed the flash drive to one of the marketing interns to print out, it was almost 1.

Pearl could have gone to the cafeteria, but instead, she skipped out and took a trip to Max’s studio. The Brit wasn’t in, but Pearl unlocked the door, walking past all the equipment and out onto the small rooftop terrace that was connected to Max’s workspace for the instances when he needed natural light.

Pearl dumped down, lighting a cigarette, and closed her eyes, the late summer sun shining down on her.

She felt her phone buzz, messages ticking in one after the other.

My office now

Please

Hello?

Pearl why are you not answering your messages?

Pearl smiled and rolled her eyes. She texted a quick ‘on my way’ as well as a winky face as she got up, popping a piece of gum before she made her way back into the building.

Violet was gone from her desk when Pearl got back to Fame’s office—the woman no doubt setting up the same meticulous way she normally did. Pearl sauntered into Fame’s office, a smirk on her face as she closed the door behind her.

“Finally,” Fame said, a bit of a testy edge to her voice.  She was sitting behind her desk, and Pearl could see from the pink of her lip that she had been chewing it. “I’ve been calling Patrick, but his assistant says he’s unavailable because they’re going over the settlements for the month, can you believe-”

“A pleasure to see you too.” Pearl locked the door. “So, I assume this isn’t another official meeting?”

Fame sighed, a little crease appearing between her eyes.

“Fame? Pearl asked, a bit more gently. “Are you okay?”

“No, of course I’m not okay.” Fame leaned back in her chair, groaning. “We’re about to re-do the whole collection, start from scratch, and what if it’s a disaster?”

“No one is forcing you to change anything-”

Pearl was cut off as Fame raised a perfect brow.

“All I’m saying is that we could just use the collection that you approved last week.”

“I know we could, but it’s not good enough. It needs to be transcendent.”

Pearl gazed intently at her, blue eyes taking in her beloved boss—unable to understand why she always put such tremendous pressure on herself, but admiring her all the same.

“Anything I can do for you, Miss?” Pearl asked, adding the sleepy drawl to her voice that she knew Fame adored.

“Please,” Fame pushed away from her desk with her bare foot, and she realized that she hadn’t even seen when she had slipped out of her shoes.

Pearl’s mouth turned up in a lopsided grin, walking forward and sinking to the floor.

“Hello.” She dropped a light kiss inside Fame’s knee. Fame’s skin was always perfectly smooth, always a little cold to the touch, and her smell was intoxicating.

Fame lifted her hips slightly, allowing Pearl to reach under her skirt and pull her panties off, spread her thighs. She ran her hands through Pearl’s hair, tangling her fingers into the unruly blonde tresses and then pulling her forward.

Pearl pushed her skirt up, letting her fingers graze over Fame’s pussy until her breath hitched. Her mouth moved to Fame’s inner thigh, placing a soft butterfly kiss against her, feeling fists tighten in her hair.

“Will you hurry up? The meeting is in fifteen minutes.” Fame punctuated her statement with a sharp tug on Pearl’s hair, causing her to giggle.

“Yes, Miss.”

Pearl suppressed her urge to torment her with soft, gentle kitten licks until she squirmed in pain, and got down to business. Her tongue swirled around Fame’s swollen clit, humming lightly, enjoying the dizzying pressure of Fame’s thighs against her ears. She reached up, hands slipping under Fame’s blouse to find the soft lace of her bra, pinching her nipples, making her gasp with pleasure.

It took a shockingly short amount of time before Fame was on the edge, biting on her fist to keep quiet as Pearl’s tongue worked its magic. She clasped Pearl’s hands to her chest, aching with need as she tried to push the girl’s hand down.

“Fingers, please,” Fame choked out, and Pearl complied immediately, sliding two fingers easily inside her, curling forward just so, pausing for a moment to look up at her, gray eyes dark and liquid, before stroking her from the inside.

Fame fucked down against her fingers, heart racing, body tight like a coiled spring. And when Pearl began to suck on her clit, the vice grip she had on her hair tightened even more, her other hand covering her mouth as she did her best to stifle her moans.

She came hard against Pearl’s face, giving her a surge of pride, tongue continuing to swirl until she whimpered in pain.

Collapsing back against her chair with a deep sigh, Fame took Pearl’s face into her hands, tilting her chin up, admiring her own glistening mess for a few moments before handing her a tissue.

“You should go clean up. The meeting’s starting in five minutes,” she told her affectionately.

“Maybe it’ll even start a few minutes late?” Pearl asked, laying a cheek against her thigh. “Give me a chance to grab the decks from my office?”

“Are you asking me for special favors?” Fame said, feigning shock with a hand pressed to her chest.

“Sorry, Miss. It won’t happen again, Miss,” Pearl said with a sparkle in her eye, rising to her feet.

“Although, you know, it’s possible for me to be slightly delayed, I suppose.”

Pearl laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her a cheeky wink as she left the office.  

***

Luckily, Fame wasn’t the first one to arrive in the boardroom, Trixie was.

Violet hated meetings where Fame didn’t follow her schedule because Fame was always on time, everyone else was simply too late or too early.

Trixie had brought two stuffed rolling racks filled with sample pieces from the design department, and armfuls of sample cards with different fabrics.

He had smiled gratefully when Violet had come to help him, the two of them quickly spreading out the best of their current collection so everyone would have a chance to share their input.

What little hair Trixie had was sticking out in all directions, his hand running through it again and again in what Violet could only assume was frustration.

“Are you okay?” Violet wasn’t generally one to ask how others were doing, but Trixie was a kind man, and it seemed like he needed the support.

“My entire department is in a panic.” Trixie groaned, “but it could have been a lot worse. Without you, and without your warning, we would have been seriously screwed.”

He sat down, crossing his arms.

“Who gives a six hour deadline for an alleged complete collection change, anyway?”

Violet bit her lip. She didn’t like going behind Fame’s back, but the look of extreme gratitude in Trixie’s eyes had convinced Violet she had done the right thing for the company, even if she had betrayed Fame’s trust.

The next one to come in was Alaska, who waved at Violet with a smile on her face, followed by Raja and Alyssa who were deep in conversation, while Pearl strolled in as the last one in an entirely new outfit from when Violet had seen her earlier that same day.

Violet quickly took her spot in the corner, the role of an assistant to disappear whenever she was not spoken to.

Fame would be there any minute, and Violet was fiddling with the bottom of her dress, absent-mindedly tugging on a small piece of thread.

It was one of her worst habits, nervous energy always settling over her like a suffocating blanket, and Violet couldn’t help but do something, anything, with herself to distract from the feelings she had inside.

At last, Fame arrived, closing the door behind her. “Where are my sketches, Violet?”

Everyone turned to Violet, and she wished the earth would swallow her up. “Right here Miss!”

Violet grabbed the big folder she had forgotten on the drinks table, taking two long steps to give it to her boss.

Fame had given Violet a stack of sketches after her meeting with Raja, the stroke of the pencil absolutely Fame’s, and Violet couldn’t believe that she had been lucky enough to see an original sketch for her bosses hand, Fame barely ever drawing anymore.

“Did you copy these?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Divide them.” Fame snapped the folder closed. “That’s all.”

Violet nodded, quickly doing as she was asked. She stood for a moment, her eyes meeting Raja’s, and with a short nod from her.

Violet had never been so happy to be sent on a coffee run, but as the editors buckled down, she couldn’t wait to escape the room.

***

“And see this color?” Fame held up a shirt, showing it off to the boardroom. “In the sketches, it was youthful and an interesting statement, but with this lace it looks like we’re catering to age fetishes. The Galactica customer is an adult woman who has her life together.”

Pearl sighed. They’d been at it for hours. Going through the collection piece by piece, Fame happily tearing most of it to shreds, only a dress made by April and two jackets from Betty surviving into the “maybe” pile.

“I don’t hate this skirt...“

Pearl drummed her pencil against the table. It wasn’t that she disliked these meetings, wasn’t that she didn’t like watching a good panic, but she was both frustrated and bored, and Violet wasn’t even there for her to look at or flirt with.

“But the print just isn’t right,” Fame sighed, “This isn’t it.”

“One of our vendors in Italy sent us this floral fabric-” Trixie reached over the table, grabbing one of the sample cards that Gia had come up with.

“Florals,” Fame raised a brow. “For spring? Groundbreaking.”

Pearl bit her lip. She could see the genuine hurt on Trixie’s face, could see how he got burned by Fame’s quick and harsh dismissal of his idea.

“Anyone have a different suggestion?”

No one said anything, and Pearl couldn’t blame them—after all, most of the suggestions anyone had made so far had been immediately shot down. And Fame’s catlike eyes scanned the room, poised to pounce on anyone who dared to open their mouths.

“Did anybody come to work today? All I ask for is staff who know how to deliver, and so far all I see is unwearable prints and tired, reductive suggestions.”

Raja coughed, stopping Fame from going off completely.

“All I ask for is a little bit of some extraordinary brilliance.”

Pearl sighed. She loved Fame, she did, but it was borderline psychotic to ask for brilliance.

“I want something fresh, something different, something—” Fame waved her hand. “We’re not being innovative enough.”

Pearl picked up Fame’s sketches, leafing through them slowly as Raja started speaking, everyone else immediately listening to the authority in her voice.

“Maybe we should go the Victorian route,” Pearl suggested, looking up at Fame questioningly.

“Did you hit your pretty head? I asked for innovation.”

“Wait a second,” Trixie said, jumping up and pawing through the rolling rack of new, proposed looks. He began to pull out a few pieces, tossing them onto the table.

“The aesthetic is coming back, I swear,” Pearl said. “At least among the fashion students.”

“So what do you suggest? Long sleeves and sexy ankles?” Raja asked.

“Long sleeves, high necks, knee length skirts. If we focus on materials like chiffon, silk and lace we could meet the aesthetic.” Pearl knew that this idea might very well get shot down, like all the others, but she was determined to at least give it a fair shake.

“Look,” Trixie said, holding up the pieces he’d found. “Imagine this skirt, but with the hem dropped 4 inches? Or this jacket, but over a high-necked chiffon blouse. Or this pant...it seems like the Victorian idea is already on the designers’ minds. Pearl is definitely onto something.”

He’d seemed to perk up considerably at the idea, grabbing a pencil to make a few quick sketches.

“It wouldn’t be the same old Victorian stuff we always see. It would just be like, using the Victorian lines and detailing in a modern way.”

“Let our customers look and feel the part of prudish power,” Pearl enthused, wiggling her brow.

“I don’t hate it,” Raja said, and everyone at the table looked at Fame, waiting with baited breath to see what their CEO would say.

After an excruciating pause, she finally said, “I don’t either.”

A huge sigh of relief rippled through the boardroom, but it was short lived, Fame making sure they knew that they weren’t done.

“But we need a new color story,” she said. “Something that sets it apart.”

“We have this pink fabric on—” Trixie picked up one of the sample cards, only to have Fame immediately shake her head.

“We used that same pink two years ago, Trixie,” she sighed. “Just when I started to think that maybe your brain had finally joined us, there it went. Out the window.”

Trixie closed his mouth, dejection written all over his face.

Raja sorted through the sample cards, pulling one out and drawing on it.

“If we go to the jungle, use some gold, I think we could be onto something with this palette.” Raja held up the card, mostly rich greens with pops of gold and a smattering of other colors.

“What’s that?” Fame asked, looking at her sketch.

“A Melati Putih. Indonesia’s national flower. It’s cream-colored with vibrant green leaves.”

“It’s beautiful,” Fame stated, looking almost disappointed at her inability to find anything wrong with the suggestion.

“Trixie, can you do something with this?” Raja asked, a note of uncharacteristic kindness in her voice.

Trixie nodded, taking Raja’s sketch, already searching on his tablet for pictures of the flower.

“Alright…” Fame said slowly. “I suppose that’s an interesting direction...”

“Thank fucking Christ,” Pearl muttered, biting her lip when she realized that she’d accidentally said it out loud.

Fame looked at her sharply. “Really, Pearl.”

“I mean...it’s just so great that you’re happy, Miss,” Pearl said with a flutter of lashes.

“I don’t want anyone to think that this is the end of the discussion. Trixie, I’m giving your team two days to work with this new concept and then we’ll have a presentation on Thursday morning. Think big, bold, exciting. Alaska, work closely with Trixie’s team and make sure we’re coming up with at least 3 new eyeshadow palettes that compliment the color story. Alyssa and Pearl, pull together as many Victorian-styled campaigns as you possibly can. I expect comprehensive pitches for the new campaign from you both on Monday next week, including labeling and artwork for the makeup line, once we have a clearer idea of how the clothes look. And all of you will be expected to give a full report of your new budgetary needs to Jaida by Friday, including where you can cut to make up for the expedited timeline.”

Everyone nodded, noting down their individual instructions.

“...But for now,” Fame continued, “I guess you’re dismissed.”  

***

“Violet girl, you don’t know how much I love you right now.”

Violet laughed. She had returned right after the meeting had ended to clean everything up and collect what Fame had approved and would need.

“It couldn’t have been that bad. Fame was smiling when she came into her office.”

“Oh, it was that bad, I swear I nearly shat my pants several times over. Who does that to people on a Monday?”

Violet giggled. Trixie was being dramatic, but Violet knew how much Fame valued him.

“You definitely saved my life, but most importantly my sanity. If she wasn’t so brilliant, I’d hate it when she changed her mind, but because of the results, it’s almost worth the shitstains.”

***

“Cheers!” Violet yelled, lifting her glass and gesturing to the people who were sitting around the table. Alaska, Max, Kim, Shangela, Jaida, Katya, Trixie and Pearl were all there, and Violet was on her third gin and tonic, feeling amazing.

Pearl had insisted that everyone had to go out and celebrate the fact that they were still alive.

Violet had wanted to go home, but Pearl had touched her arm and asked her to come, and she couldn’t say no.

The rumor that the design department was going out for drinks had spread throughout Galactica and the bar was filled with their coworkers. Violet had never expected that a bar could be this full on a Monday night, but the rumor of a Galactica party had traveled through the city, and now everyone who tried to be anything was there.

“To Violet!” Trixie said, a smile on his face.

“To Violet!” Everyone else agreed, glasses clicking as all of them drank.

“I-” Violet could feel herself blush. “Thank you-”

“Come dance with me!” Katya smiled, and Violet couldn’t resist as the blonde Russian dragged her towards the dance floor.

Katya was a fabulous dancer, completely unashamed of herself even as she made moves that had Violet doubling over in laughter. Violet and Katya had attempted vogue-ing, which had released one of the hyena laughs from the blonde that Violet was becoming addicted to, making the night even more perfect. Trixie came out, joining Katya in what could only be described as a dance-off between idiots. Violet retreated a little, letting the music decide how she danced, sipping her drink and swaying to the beat by herself.

It still felt strange to dance, still felt weird to let the music guide her without any rules, without someone looking at her, but she was getting better, less and less alcohol needed every time she gave herself over.

Pearl came over, her arms sneaking around Violet’s middle, and they had danced together, the music deciding the rhythm of their hips.

She knew she was into Pearl, had been since the first time they met, but lately she had felt something shift between them, Pearl paying her more attention than she ever had before.

“You’re beautiful, Violet.” Pearl smiled, and Violet could smell the rum on her breath, their faces so close together, their dancing making her wetter than she had been in years.

“Thank you.”

Pearl laughed, pulling Violet even closer, a hand on her hip. She could feel her breath against her face, the two of them so closely together.

Pearl reached up, pushing a bit of Violet’s hair behind her ear, and then, they were kissing.

Violet felt her stomach burst with fireworks, her fingers twitching. Pearl was an amazing kisser, her lipstick sticky in the sexiest way, her grip on Violet’s hip tightening.

Pearl had complete control of the kiss, and Violet wanted to disappear into her forever.

They pulled apart, Pearl’s blue eyes filled with mischief, and Violet felt a rush of heat at the sight of her lipstick smeared all over Pearl’s face.

“Hey-” Pearl smirked, clearly leaning in for another kiss, and Violet wanted to lean in, she did, she really did, but then, Violet felt her hand move on its own, pushing on Pearl’s shoulder, her mouth opening without her consent.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

[raidbossmadi]

People Like Us : Chapter 8

8. Bonds of Blood Last chapter: Here

Sloane found herself just outside a rural village or at least that’s what she assumed what it was, every time she found herself in this place it was always here, a large temple structure rising into the sky above her and when she looked behind herself there were buildings that ascended up the many mountains in the distance.

As always she felt compelled to walk into the temple and marvel at its high stone walls adorned in ivy and plants of varieties she had never seen in the waking world. A pool of water ringed the room and at its center sat a large statue of a veiled figure bearing four arms extended upwards towards the heavens. At the base of the statue sat two women, who stopped the conversation  they were having and looked at her as she entered.

The one of them was a familiar sight, a tall well built woman with braided white hair and siren markings that trailed up her face to just under her  right eye; she was Helga Steele, the  previous wielder of  the siren power Sloane possessed. The other was slightly shorter than Helga,with long black tucked behind her ears and sepia skin that her blue siren markings contested against, hers also curled up under her right eye; which was a striking ice blue. The markings showed the both of them as adult sirens who had come into the full aspect of their powers. The stranger stayed perched at the statue base while Steele approached the newly arrived Sloane.

“Well met little sister, so you have found your way to Pandora. It is an inevitability that our kind will always be drawn there at some point or another.” Steele said, wrapping her arm around Sloane’s shoulders as she led her back toward the statue base.

“A dangerous inevitability. You should know that better than anyone Helga.” The stranger chided. There was a familiar affectation to the woman’s voice though at the moment Sloane couldn’t place what about it was familiar.  

Steele stiffened at the other woman’s words, a scowl forming on her face. “You have some gall to lecture me. You are not so innocent yourself considering what you did Leda.” Sloane felt a bit awkward hoping the two women weren’t about to fight but was relieved when Leda raised her hands in an appeasing motion.  

“We aren’t here to point fingers Helga, I’d like to think that the reason we are here is a bit more important than the faults we both made while we were alive.”

Steele made a ‘hmph’ of appeasement and gave Sloane a bit of a nudge forward. “Before we continue I think introductions are in order, little sister, this is Leda. She was the wielder of our powers before me. Leda, this is Sloane, current holder of our line.”  

Sloane gave a shy wave not sure how to feel about meeting another Siren who had once had the powers she had now, meeting Steele had been a lot to process the first time. After all it wasn’t normal to travel to an ethereal plain and meet people who were no longer in this world, all connected by a thread of power that had been in the universe for millennia.

“As I was saying, you have made it to Pandora. Leda and I had both been there ourselves in lives and we both understand the danger it contains. I however, do not think you understand the danger, little sister.” Steele said retaking her seat at the base of the statue. “Leda however has more faith in you, which is why she asked to come met with you. You should listen, she is one of the wisest of us.”

Sloane took a seat on the lower step of the statue's base letting the older women have their place on either side of her.

“Why thank you Helga, good to know you still hold me in high regards, even if you don’t agree with my choices.” Leda said, offering the other siren a genuine smile that again reminded Sloane of something. Steele’s lips pursed as she refrained from starting another debate between herself and Leda.

“Helga is right though when she says Pandora is dangerous. If not for its colorful inhabitants I can’t say much good about it at all. I know as well that you are not alone in this journey, which is good. It is always safer to be on Pandora with people you can trust and three Sirens are a powerful force to be reckoned with. Listen closely, the danger of Pandora is one that most Sirens cannot resist. You must understand the map is not what it seems.”  When Leda spoke it was with a soft motherly tone that bade Sloane to listen and heed her warnings.  

“Two Sirens, sister. You really must stop with the boy, surely you can see he is not like us no matter what you want to think.” Steele said, shooting Leda a glance, one that Leda returned in kind colder and with an anger that belied her gentle appearance.

“Is this really what we’re doing right now Helga? Whatever petty bullshit you’re trying to stir up must we really do this in front of the girl?” Leda hissed.

“For last ten years, I have been the one guiding Sloane. Then out of nowhere you decide to finally get involved, I know what games you are playing Leda.” Steele shot back crossing her arms and standing up.

Sloane scooted back up til she bumped into the statues feet, she just really didn’t want to be in the middle of the argument that the two women were having.

“She wasn’t ready to know what I have to teach her, she still isn’t ready for it all. She doesn’t understand the bigger picture, none of them do. You might be angry at my choices  but leave him out of this.” Leda frowned then looked back at Sloane with the same gentleness she had before. “Sloane, sweetheart it was lovely meeting you. We will talk again soon but for now I think Helga and I need to work out our differences alone.”

Sloane watched as the edges of the temple began to dark unnaturally and before long the scene before her faded into the nothingness. ——

Sloane woke up on Tyreen’s couch where she had settled down hours before to watch a movie while the twins were out only to have ended up falling asleep.

“Hey! Sorry I was trying to be quiet, didn’t wanna wake you up, anyway are you hungry?” Tyreen asked peering over the top of the couch. She was still in her God-Queen outfit and given  her apology, Sloane reasoned that her entering the room had been what had woken her up in the first place.  As she looked up at the face of the other siren her memory of the dream came back. Tyreen’s facial features  and complexion were similar to that of Leda's, from the cat-like eyes to the shape of her lips. Sloane of course wasn’t about to assume that Tyreen having a face vaguely similar to a woman she’d barely met meant anything beyond being a strange coincidence.

“Hm? What time is it?” Sloane asked as she rubbed her eyes. The twins rooms were lacking in windows due to security concerns and while she could understand that it made time in the Cathedral bleed together to a degree.

“About noon, I was at my morning meetings. We got our food delivery today so if there’s anything you want that we didn’t have last night now is the time.” Tyreen said in a sing-song tone as she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the door to her bedroom.

“Do we have those pizza bagels again?”

“Fuck yes we do! Be a dear and start the oven while I change and I’ll take care of the rest.” Tyreen said as she disappeared into her room.

Sloane shrugged off the blanket she’d been burritoed in and went about prepping the kitchen for lunch. She also pulled out her echophone and looked through the notifications on the home screen. A notification that the morning sermon had been streaming, the weather, and several texts from Troy; all of which she scanned and when none of them appeared to be emergencies she swiped them away. She hadn’t seen the male Calypso since the incident and while she respected that he was giving her space if they were going to talk she would prefer it be in person.  

As if on cue Tyreen waltzed back into the room something clearly on her mind. “So Troy, really wants to talk to you. Would you mind if I had him come here, that way you don’t have to feel like you’re alone with him if you don’t want that.” She looked at Sloane expectantly, it was obvious that Tyreen meant well and Sloane had mentioned the last time this came up she wasn’t mad anymore.

“Yeah whatever we can talk, just so long as you’re nearby.” Sloane agreed, not particularly sure she trusted Troy by himself at the moment. She thought of how easy it would be for him to bully her into whatever he wanted with that giant arm of his.  

Tyreen’s demeanor changed, she perked up and flashed Sloane a smile. “Yeah, I'll tell him to come over, go ahead and get ready. I'll take over lunch like I said.”  

Sloane went and changed from her pyjamas into more casual wear  and tried not to overthink the coming interaction with Troy. It would be fine wouldn’t it? This was all just a lack of communication and if the twins wanted to do better she couldn’t fault them for that.  

It wasn’t long before there was a  knock on Tyreens door and Sloane forced herself out the bed room as Tyreen called “Come in Broooo.”

The door slid open and Troy walked in looking a bit awkward himself. When he caught Sloane’s gaze he  gave a small wave then quickly looked away, turning his attention back to his sister.

“Uh hey Ty, Sloane. Hope you ladies have been doing well.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he made his way further into the room and leaned against the back of the sofa. It was then that Sloane realized that he was nervous and not at all like the self assured man she thought he was before now.

“Yeah things have been fine, sit down and let’s talk.” Sloane said.  She walked around to the sofa sitting so that there would be ample room for Troy to sit with there still being space between them.

The twins shared a look before Tyreen decided to take her leave heading back into her bedroom but leaving the door open so that she might be easily summoned should things get uncomfortable.

Troy then took his seat on the other end of the couch, his human hand immediately moving to fiddle with his  eyebrow piercing then to pick at the fur collar of his vest as he meant her gaze. “I’m sorry for lying to you. I shouldn’t have waited so long as to not be able to explain things to you.”

“But you’re not sorry for what you did?” She asked, watching him intently. His fidgeting stopped for a moment before his hand went from his collar to picking at the edges of his shoulder plate.

“N-no.” He said after a good minute of silence between them. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear but…”

“Stop.” Sloane leaned over and caught his wrist in her left hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself like that.” She said gently.  He squirmed in her grasp and she let go but watched to make sure he wouldn’t go back to picking on himself.

“Tyreen told me you’re sick. She didn’t tell me much but she said it was serious, that it’s killing you.” She watched him shy away from her as she spoke, it was obvious that talking about this was something that made him uncomfortable.

“Yeah that’s my whole life in a nutshell. Ever since Ty and I were born it’s been a never ending cycle of me getting sick and our Mom or Ty stepping in to bear the burden of caring for me. It was a lot worse when I was a kid but…. it’s never going to get better and that’s just something I have to live with, So I don’t want your pity,save it for something that matters.  I know it’s not a burden I should have thrust onto you so suddenly, and while I don’t regret knowing that you can feed me the way Tyreen does I do wish I’d not let my emotions get the better of me and wait so long to try. I should have told you the truth about my health conditions and what we expected from you in regards to them.”

“It’s ok Troy. This is new to me but it’s been both of yours for your entire life. You’re right though if you had told me out of gate I would have been confused but I would have agreed because you need it. I don’t want you to die Troy, and I don’t want you to suffer either. I just want to understand.” She said gently. In her time away from him she realized that she was angry because she just wanted to understand.

Looking at Troy from an outside perspective no one would ever know he was sick, he stayed out of the spotlight that Tyreen craved and when he did appear it was often for short periods of time or calculated that you never really got a good look at him. Here close to him though she could see through those cracks, she could see the bags under his eyes that were usually covered by make-up and how the vest he wore gave the illusion of filling him out when in reality he was dangerously thin. He’d gone out of his way to make sure she hadn’t seen him undress when they had spent the night together and now it was all falling into place.

“It’s… It’s not easy to admit that I need help, not when ya know everyone expects me to be God-King Calypso all the time and I’m not I’m just Troy. If most people knew they’d think I was a freak… I’m not fully convinced that you don’t think I’m one either.” He sighed running his hand through his hair.

“Then I’ll just have to keep working at it until you believe me Troy. I understand the part you both want me to play in the Children of the Vault and it’s one I’ll take willingly. I want to help, to be here for you, both of you. I want to do what I can to make your lives easier. All I ask in return is that you stop hiding from me. I’m an adult woman, I can handle you at your best and your worst if you just let me in.” She knew it wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard work now that she understood how fundamentally broken the twins were but that only made her want to help them more. They had obviously been hiding what they’re really like for a reason and those reasons ran deep, far deeper than she could have imagined.

“You mean it! Really?” Troy let himself slip from his reserved manner before catching himself and going right back into it “I-I mean of course, I’m glad to hear that. Tyreen and I were hoping that you would agree.”

“Yes of course I mean it Troy, why would I lie to you? You and Tyreen haven’t given me a reason to feel like I should be, and this is a big deal for all of us really.” Sloane made sure to keep her time even and calm, it meant a lot to her that Troy was willing to show the vulnerable side of himself even if only for a moment.

“Right yeah, anyway I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure Ty is too. Especially since we’ve been prepping for you formal induction to the CoV. Of course we wanted to wait until things were smoothed over so it’s good to know that we can move ahead with our plans.” Troy went to talking business as it was a deflection from the feelings that were welling up inside him, feelings he still didn’t quite know how to process. Business though, that was easy, clinical almost. It was safe.  

“Oh really? What does that entail?” Sloane’s interest has been caught, when she had seen the twins videos in the past she’d never really focused on their ritual based stuff but it seemed more interesting now that she was in the thick of it.

“It’s a big party.” Tyreen chimed in stepping out of her room. “We all get dressed real nice and present you to the whole of our followers, you pledge your loyalty to us as your twin gods, get a little tattoo, then we have a good time for the rest of the night. Or head back early if partying isn’t your thing but I think you’ll have a good time.”

“Yeah it’s a good time and we don’t get to do it very often so we try to enjoy it when we get the chance. Just think about it, every eye in the children of the vault, seven billion people all tuning in to see you.” Troy purred, gesturing as if the wall were full of screens.

“I’d rather not think of that bit too much all things considered.” Sloane said blushing a bit when she realized just how many people that was.

“Awww are you camera shy? Don’t worry I’ll make sure we get only the best angles. You’ve got nothing to worry about. This is gonna be great, cinematic even.” Troy smirked and seemed to relax now that he was back in his element and Sloane couldn’t deny that it was nice to see him nerd out about camera work.

“Well when you put it like that…”

“See! Nothing to worry about you’re in good hands chica. Plus Iris is working on the cutest outfit for you and I know you’re gonna rock it so you know, don’t worry about it.” Tyreen encouraged.

They both seemed so happy about the event and even if Sloane was feeling a little shy about it she had said she wanted to know what life outside her forest was like. It was only fair that she continued to leave that comfort zone and see what the universe had to offer.

“Alright I think I’m sold, sounds like a good time and I mean the CoV is my family now so I can’t imagine denying you a celebration like this.” She was thoroughly convinced that the event would only strengthen her ties to her new family.

The twins were both beaming their wolfish grins in perfect copies of each other and they high-fived as Tyreen walked past Troy’s spot on the couch.

“Let's get a start on these preparations then why don’t we?”

[weirdsciencecomics]

Writer: Donny Cates Artist: Juan Gedeon Colors: Jesus Aburtov Letterer: VC’s Clayton Cowles

Release date August 12 2020 Review by D. Brown (WolfCypher)

Warning: Some Spoilers Ahead

Venom, The Maker, Dylan, and Virus have all been sent through a large machine into foreign parallel universes. Eddie and Dylan find themselves together in what appears to be New York City, but vastly different. Virus, still seething with hatred towards Eddie, doesn’t give him or his son time to take in their situation, and their fighting continues.

Juan Gedeon returns to the book as the artist, having last visited this run back in Venom 16 (the last issue before Absolute Carnage kicked off). I was positive on his style with the one-and-done issue he pencilled, but fast-forward to our current twenty-seventh issue, and I can’t help but feel colder on his take here. He does a great job with the characters behind masks and helmets…hell, save for one big issue I have with his Venom, he draws a serviceable Venom…but a lot of his faces do not look good. There are instances with Eddie and Dyan where their facial features look bland, even when the characters look like they’re trying to convey emotion. Additionally, I felt the backgrounds left a lot to be desired. The world is presented to us on the first page as being an advanced, cyberpunk-ish setting, but to be honest I feel like the issue fails to really convey that past the first page. I do hope the rest of the story to come really showcases the changes to the setting better. I’d like to see more done with the visuals around the characters, besides neon colored skyscrapers. However, he knows how to draw fight sequences. Venom and Virus battle delivers a lot of weight and action, and that’s a big pro given how much their fighting carries most of the book. There’s so much going on during the conflict, where as Venom and Virus batter each other above the skylines of the city, Eddie and the symbiote are in constant chatter with each other.

The one big issue I mentioned earlier? Why is Venom so BLUE in this issue? This was a thing with the character during most of the 90s, and allegedly it had to do with shading and lighting. Venom is supposed to be black (black alien costume of Spider-Man…during his black costume days…) but blue highlighting was added to Venom’s black form for the purpose of shading. This isn’t that technique; we don’t have a black Venom with some blue touches, this is just a completely miscolored Venom. It became a even bigger point of contention with me when we get to a scene where our Venom is standing face-to-face with another Venom, one properly colored as they should be, both standing in a dark tunnel. I really don’t understand why when Juan gets to draw Venom in this run, the colorist goes for blue.

This issue debuts a power for our titular character. In retrospect, the opening page reads like its telling you we’re about to see a new feat Venom is now capable of doing. It reminds me of being a kid and playing “superheroes” with my neighbors’ kids; we’d each make up our own aliases and powers. You’d always had the one friend who would have the most powers, and half of them didn’t even make any sense thematically with their alias. “So, your name is Firebolt, and you have fire and electric powers…flight, superstrength…Flash’s speed? You can…your character can turn into animals? Teleportation now? AND psychic mind control powers?” Stop…just…stop. I don’t want to play anymore. It could be I’m such an old fuddy-duddy where back in my day, Venom was just bigger, more-badass Spider-Man, and seeing Venom firing mega lasers…we’ve kinda gotten away from the thread of Venom having spider-based powers, now haven’t we? It just…didn’t gel with me personally. And it opens up the thought of what powers doesn’t Venom have waiting to be revealed? Animal transformations? Teleportation? Psychic mind control? Its actually funny, rereading that 1st page of this book that lists a rundown of the symbiote can do…at no point are any of its spider-themed powers even mentioned.

You’d think up until this point of my review I’m pretty low on this book, but I came out pretty enthused.

I really liked the pacing in this issue. The issue is front loaded with a lot of action, but there is plenty of dialogue throughout the sequence. Given my critique of the art earlier in this review, I still must confess pages during this series of fighting is where Juan’s visuals shine the most. Its pretty cool how we know so little of Virus, and yet during his exchanges with Venom you really everything you need to take him as I’m sure he’s intended to be taken. He’s bitterly obsessed with killing Venom, and gives no regards with threatening his son. The anger Eddie shows every time Virus even brings up Dylan as a target nails really sells Eddie as the badass I want to follow.

We do get another issue where more new questions arise, and few answers are given, but it wasn’t a challenge to stay engaged in everything that was happening in this book. The mystery of Virus is still unresolved, as well as his motivations. We are in a world where it seems everyone either is a symbiote, or is bonded to one. Who is Codex? And how (if at all) does all of this fit into “the Knull agenda” this entire run has been dedicated towards?

And then there’s the issue of the Maker. Last issue, we saw him arriving in New York City of Earth 1610 (aka the Ultimate Universe). The Maker has returned to his native world, which is exactly what he’s been trying to achieve. Surely, his role in this run isn’t over, despite seemingly achieving what he wanted. There’s also the matter of 1610’s status. His native New York appeared to be in partial ruins. What happened before his return? There’s clearly more to play with, as far as the Maker’s side of the story goes, but the question becomes will we see it during this arc, or is this story going to come later?

Cates’ run has made it a tradition to end almost all of his issues with a big twist, and perhaps my favorite twist of the entire run so far comes at the end of this book. I want to remind you one last time that this has been a spoiler review, as I’m about to get into something that deserves to be experienced through reading the book, but if you’ve made it this far, well then…….

Venom 27 ends with Eddie and Dylan encountering several Agent Venoms in the sewers. Veteran Venom fans will be floored at the revelation of…awww, I can’t do it. Even in a spoiler review, I’m leaving this one out. If you haven’t picked up this book yet, you’ll find out soon enough, but I think this twist is too good to just come out and talk about here. I have a lot I want to discuss here, as its all exciting and has me anxious for what this might bring to or leave on the table, but…go read it for yourself. I’ll say this: we’ve yet to learn who Virus really is, and now that reveal will have its work cut out to compete with this issue’s last minute shocker.

Final Thoughts

Two issues in and I already feel like this has more than made up for the lackluster “Venom Island” arc preceding it. This book’s pros outweighed whatever personal cons I had with it, and even given those cons, they’re more pet peeves than out-right detriments (well, I do feel like the art wasn’t very polished, so I’ll argue that as a genuine criticism). Venom Beyond has me excited again for Cates’ Venom.

8/10

Venom #27 Review Writer: Donny Cates Artist: Juan Gedeon Colors: Jesus Aburtov Letterer: VC's Clayton Cowles Release date August 12 2020…

[honeyyvee]

STARBORN

Rating; Mature (+18)

Genre; Science Fiction. Horror. Angst & Tragedy. 

Pairings; Jungkook x Jimin x Namjoon.

Summary; Dystopic Future! AU. Aliens! AU. Ambassador Park Jimin drags Commander Kim Namjoon on an unauthorized rescue mission. Both face the consequences of persuing a lost cause. 

“Like Supernovas, they die, to give birth (again).”

Words; 2.6 k

Trigger Warnings; implied suicide, suicide ideations, graphic descriptions of body horror, character death.

Notes; This fic is a part of the Dark and Wild 2019 Collection. It answers to the prompt: Humans make good incubators for aliens; person A is abducted into an alien breeding facility. The point of the fics for the collection is to be intentionally dark, so this is a case of “dead dove do not eat”. Read at your own discretion. Text in italics are flashbacks. 

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"Are you serious?" The ushered words reverberate off the metallic walls.

A young man of regal appearance raises a perfectly shaped brow. 

"Will you help me out or not?"

The second young man towers over the latter with a deep frown etched into his weary features. "You know that I can't, Jimin.

The blonde, Jimin, fumes in silence. 

"Is that your answer, then, Commander Namjoon? Or are those my father's orders?" Jimin crosses his arms. 

"Why do you have to be so difficult? The Prime Minister has nothing to do with this, it's all you being irrational." The brunette gesticulates. "Jungkook is one of the best recruits we have at Alpha Station. Top of his class at the level of the Galactic Union, for Terra's sake ."

Jimin however, rolls his eyes. He doesn't have time for Namjoon's bickering, specially if he is on his father's side. Which was: against him (and Jungkook). He's made up his mind to get Jungkook himself, with or without the Commander's help. The sound of his boots echo off the walls of the hangar with determination. 

"The boy has a perfect record of successfully accomplished missions." Namjoon follows. "He can take care of himself." 

Jimin steps come to a halt. His eyes fix on the floor,  still refusing to meet Namjoon’s. If briefly, Jimin acknowledges he's acting on emotion rather than on facts and logic. He'll still stick to stubborness though. 

"Call it a hunch, but—", Jimin sighs deeply. 

Namjoon stares in silence. The blonde is piercing holes at the steel beneath his feet. There are pronounced bags under his eyes, Namjoon notices, and his perfectly soft, blonde hair is a mess from where Jimin has been constantly threading is fingers through it. This level of mortification is an unseemingly, rare look on the regal young man. 

Jimin finally seems to put his thoughts in order, as he lifts his troubled gaze to meet Namjoon's. 

"Look, I've been having these weird dreams and," Jimin runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "Jungkook's been static for a while now."

Namjoon patiently waits for some explanation more elaborated, logical, than that, but it never comes. The blonde man averts his gaze to the floor again, lips tightly pressed. The faint humming of the machinery behind the metallic walls of the station hangs heavy in the air. 

"So" Namjoon rubs his face ", you're taking a ship for an unauthorized mission. No Plan, no backup… and expect me to just let you get away with it?" He raises an eyebrow.

Silence. Namjoon chuckles, no humour or sincerity poured into the action. 

"I could get demoted for this… Hell, we could both get thrown into the vacuum of space for treason. Being the Prime Minister's son be damned." 

That's all it takes for Jimin to snap. The blonde visibly stiffens at the mention of his so called "privileged" title. His father had been against his and Jungkook's relationship since the very beginning because of his own political interests. He had his own suspicions, that Jungkook's disappearing had been the Prime Minister's doing. That Jungkook being sent off to a "secret", dangerous mission in a far away corner of the Galaxy, was a means for them to be kept apart… and that Namjoon, Jimin's only, precious friend, had a hand in allowing it, too. 

"So, you coming or what?" Jimin cocks his head. "I'm doing this, with or without you."

"I could just strengthen the security," Namjoon steps forward, crosses his arms over his broad chest.

The blonde takes a step forward too, not giving into the Commander's half-hearted threat. He snakes his slender arms across the Commander's strong neck.

"But you won't." Jimin assures. There's an air of cockiness, more so than authoritativeness, behind the blonde's words and the slight curve to his full lips.

A flash of emotion crosses composed Commander Namjoon's expression. One that Jimin (mistakenly) interprets as contained anger. The commander's face switches back quickly into military-drilled stoiticity, before Jimin gets a chance to clear up his impressions of it. 

It's a whole minute of silent staring before the brunette scrunches his eyes shut and sighs. 

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?"

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"Calling Spacecraft A-00941, you're about to enter Vossa sector in an unauthorized flight. Report yourself to Alpha Station, over."

The mechanic voice buzzes through the comm. Jimin feels Commander's Namjoon gaze on him, an obnoxious ' I told you so ' heavily implicated in his raised eyebrows. Jimin sighs, turning the mic on speaker. 

"Alpha station, this is Spacecraft A-00941. Ambassador Park Jimin speaking. Currently on our way to Delta substation in the periphery of Vossa sector, over." 

"Mission case?"

The blonde gulps. 

"Unauthorized. Request to appeal to code 0613."

On the side, Namjoon facepalms. 

"Request denied," booms the firm, mechanic voice through the speakers of the ship.

Jimin yanks the mic closer to him in one motion. 

"Alpha Station, this is a classified, last minute mission. Request to appeal to code zero-six-thirteen." The blonde grits his teeth. 

Namjoon shakes his head in silence. One word from him could get them out of this situation, at least temporarily, but seriously compromise him. His silence, however, would confirm Jimin's suspicions... 

"Denied. Addressing Commander Kim Namjoon, you've taken an aircraft property of the Galactic Union, for an unauthorized mission. Return to base immediately, over."

Jimin feels Namjoon's staring, pressing him on wordlessly to give in to the order... Such a thing won't happen. There's a minute of silence that stretches over time. Jimin's grip tightens on the controls as seconds go by. 

"I repeat: Spacecraft A-00941, return to base immediately." 

Namjoon leans over the controls with a disgruntled growl. 

"Overruled. This is Commander Kim Namjoon speaking, and I give full authorization for this mission.” The tall man sighs, leaning into the mic. “You have our coordinates, we’ll have the location on and report to base when we get to Delta substation."

A full minute or two transpire in static tension, as Alpha Station deliberates on the Commander’s rebuttal. Jimin holds his breath in as the buzz of the speakers comes alive, once again.

“... Understood. Code 0613 acknowledged, you can proceed with the mission under the specifications of the procedure. Alpha Station, over.”

The blinking red light next to the mic fades for good, and Jimin releases all the air in his lungs. A humorless chuckle escapes his lips. 

“I thought they had us for good for a moment there, I was just about to turn the comm and the Navi off.” 

Commander Namjoon raises his head from between his hunched shoulders, squints his eyes at the blonde. 

“I don’t see anything funny in it, Ambassador.” Commander Namjoon springs up from his seat.

With how composed and stoic Namjoon usually behaves, Jimin is needless to say, thrown aback by the venomous intent in the Commander's tone of voice and glare. 

The brunette stalks up to him, a hard look in his eye. 

“Do you even know what the Vossa sector is like? Have you been there? Do you have any fucking idea of what the Vossa are, and what we’ve just gotten ourselves into?” 

Jimin sighs, averts his eyes from the furious glare of the Commander. Busies himself with tapping away at a personal tablet. 

"I do. I've done my research, they are a parasite intelligent lifeform on the verge of extinction. They have a symbiotic relationship with their host. Which, in their majority, are 6'5 tall Heterocephalus Glaber. Basically, giant, anthropomorphic naked mole rats on steroids, with lots of sharp teeth and claws." Jimin swipes at his tablet, showing Namjoon an image of the description. 

Namjoon bristles, pushes the tablet out of his sight.

"I know. I've fucking seen them, Jimin. Face to face. What about you?" 

The blonde man frowns at the Commander's words, but ultimately ignores his taunt. His confession of having seen them in person piques his interest, but decides not to push him further on it. Instead he focuses on the carefully collected data in the screen before him. 

"Monarchic style government, exponential technology growth… a rapid developing race except for the fact that the parasite makes the host infertile, and therefore only able to reproduce by infesting another host." 

The blonde man runs a hand through his disheveled hair with a sigh.

"So, now that they've established themselves as a solid community... there have been reports of them infesting other lifeforms and growing into them." 

"The reports say they've already infested various lifeforms such a Cthulhi, Zanoi, Eeleians, and… Humans, by laying their larvae in their internal organs."  

"So what's your plan?" Namjoon stalks closer. 

"They've just recently accepted the Galactic Union's invitation, they have a representative I contacted. We're meeting at Delta Substation. Close to the spot where Jungkook's coordinates were registered for the last time." 

"That is a terrible plan." Namjoon grumbles. 

Jimin shoots up from his seat.

"Well, it's all I've got. Any other brilliant ideas?"

"Returning to base. Believe me when I tell you: the Vossa can't be trusted. Whatever mission Jungkook was in, it's better not to intervene."

The blonde's frown deepens. 

"The mission he is in… Jungkook is on a mission. I know Vossa can't be trusted, but neither can humans and yet here we are." Jimin crosses his arms.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. 

"I'm not turning back now." The blonde insists.

“You are right. We just gave full consented authorization for the Galactic Union to deal with us as it pleases if we don’t manage to justify this unauthorized mission somehow. Our lives are on the line, and I hope you are aware of it." Namjoon crosses his arms.

"I'm aware, " Jimin deadpans. "I know I dragged you into this. And I promise you, I'll get us both and Jungkook out of this." 

"Approaching Destination: Delta Substation. Estimated time for arrival: 10 minutes," the mechanic voice of the navigator assistant interjects.

Namjoon looks at the blonde with such a troubled look in his eyes, Jimin's stoic façade falters for a moment.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Park Jimin." 

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.

Everything's mostly dark except for the portable emergency lights Jimin managed to snatch on their ship, before docking in the eerily still, Space Station. 

Jimin tries to control his ragged breathing as he scurries to the young man strapped to a steel operating table in the middle of the room. 

"Jungkook!" the blonde hisses. 

Jimin finds himself horrified by what he finds. Jungkook's beautiful doe eyes are glazed over, with a far away look. His lean body covered in vomit and sweat, that puddles under his back, legs, and arms. The room is disgustingly humid and warm, despite the rest of the station feeling like a giant freezer. Bile rises all the way to Jimin's mouth. 

It's an incubation room. And this giant, unknown space station in Vossa sector is a breeding facility.

Delta SubStation had been a lie, it had all been a trap set by his father. And Namjoon was part of it. 

‘Namjoon…’

Jimin bites so hard at it's lip that it draws blood. The tears come in a rush, the sobs building in his chest double him over. 

'The Vossa are not allies Jimin… and neither is the Prime Minister. He let you get this far… we, let you get this far, for you to die.' 

Jimin knew. He knew and still… 

'We are replaceable, all of us. You know. We were created in labs, by mere formula. Genetically improved, with each running test. A little more strong, a little less stubborn, a little more obedient. You and I… we've existed for centuries, and will continue to do so. So will Jungkook.'

'What's so special about him, that you would risk your life for? You can get another, straight from a bottle.'

Jimin reaches for Jungkook's still, unconscious body. He looks for the tattoo on his ribs, his id number, JJ1313. Jimin traces the numbers on Jungkook's sticky, burning hot skin, with feather-like touches. 

'What's so special about me, that you risked yours?'

'...'

Jungkook's wired to different beeping, blinking devices, of some technology that Jimin does not recognize. He still yanks, and tears away at them, breaks the digital screens into little pieces, the same. 

'I guess... the memories I have with you. I don't want them to go away. Another Park Jimin could come to life, and still it wouldn't be the Jimin I know… it wouldn't be you.'

Jimin's voice breaks.

'It's the same for me.'

There's a big, open, cauterized, gash right in the middle of Jungkook's stomach, and nothing to stitch it close with. Something white, peeks through the open wound… 

Jimin takes the edges of the burnt skin between his trembling fingers, and pulls them apart to take a better look inside the wound, even if he knows… even if it terrifies him to his core. 

'You know I would do anything for you… You know it. But… this? This is a little too cruel, don’t you think?'

Jimin's stomach lurches to his throat at the sight. It empties all it's meager contents on the floor. Jimin falls to the ground with a thud. 

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. 

Thick, white worms of different sizes wriggle inside the wound on Jungkook's stomach. Jimin's heart feels on the edge of collapsing. 

The Commander stands still, face impassive, but his voice still breaks. 

'You are asking me to die.'

Jimin does not say anything… He can not say anything. Not with the suffocating knot forming in his throat. Not when that's exactly what he's asking Namjoon to do, staying at Delta substation to meet the representative while he gets away to Jungkook's location in their only spaceship. Jimin's abandoning Namjoon to the Vossa, most likely to die, and there are no comfort words for that. Because Namjoon loves him and still… 

'Yeah. From the beginning this was...' Jimin averts his eyes. 

'A suicide mission?' the Commander interrupts.

He smiles. 

'I wouldn't mind dying if it was with you.'  

It's such a sad smile…

Jimin screams. From the bottom of his lungs, until they give out. Fuck the disgusting rats finding him out. Let them come and take him, so he can take them too. 

It's white hot rage that burns him. Because Namjoon's right, there's another Park Jimin, another Jeon Jungkook, and Kim Namjoon in the making. Ready to replace them all. And no one will give a shit. No one gives a shit about anyone anymore... Except him. 

And Namjoon. 

Who knows if Jungkook. Would he have done the same for Jimin, or wait for his replacement? He'll never know. And so, Jimin suddenly feels like a fool for wasting Namjoon's and his life for a replaceable boy who may not have loved him as much as Namjoon proved he did. 

'Still, you will leave me here, and go with him. I never stood a chance, did I?'

Was it Jimin's fault though? The heart wants what it wants. Maybe in another life... Maybe a better, wiser Park Jimin, will be able to make the right choices next time. 

'Maybe in that case, being born again wouldn't be so bad then.' 

Jimin waits in a corner of the room, cradling Jungkok in his arms. The disgusting worms are spilling out from a wheezing Jungkook, wriggling about all over them. Jimin picks a fat one between his fingers. It occurs to him that they could live on as puppets of another race, or puppets of their own. His choice.

Jungkook's body goes into shock, convulsing in his arms. The unfocused look on the bulged out eyes of the boy prompts him. Jimin reaches for Jungkook's neck with bloody, trembling hands.

Jungkook stops convulsing.

Both stay in the corner, the rats come crashing in the room soon after… the last fading thought of Jimin is that of the stars.

Like supernovas, they die, to give birth (again).

(And again).

(And again).

[stattic-writes]

Black Out

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

Support My Writing?

[impulseislost]

If This is The End (1)

so this is one ive been working on and off on. and have nothing pre written so we do like men i guess ahaha. That being sorry if it seems clunky at all

Warnings: Uh.. In this case, Swearing, mentions of kidnapping/disappearances, some really bad medical work is done at one point. uhhhhh i think thats all??

Word Count: 5000+ 

Twilight

There was a quiet around him. The sort that only rested after a battle. Where all was still and the only sounds came from the dead underfoot or the dying. Never the living.

He'd witnessed this scene again and again. An empty field where he had stood so many times, a cold dread resting in his stomach as he searched for the bodies of people he had known. He didn't expect his team to be among them, yet. His boys were among the top of their game.

But Chan still remembered Jaebum's screams after Youngjae disappeared. Screams that still haunted his dreams. He still remembered the way BamBam, as he so chose to be called though gods knew why, held back his leader. The way that the tortured screams of the elder had echoed around them.

Even Felix hadn't slept well after that episode.

He sighed, as he picked his way across the bodies, nodding at one of Jaebum's team (Jackson he thought), as he passed. They were all doing the same ritual as him. Checking for their fallen and loved ones.

"Hyung." A voice cut through his thoughts, crackling over his line, distracting him from his search as he kicked the body of some red-headed male over. Relief filled Chan's veins as the face matched none of the pictures currently shown in his database.

"Hyung." The boy called him again, bringing him back to the present.

"Yes?" He kicked another body, blonde this time. Not quite the same shade, but still enough to make him check.

"Hyung, you need to get back to camp now." Camp. The one place in the world Chan wanted to be less than the bunkers.

"He's right. We need you." Another voice cut in, and the man found himself sighing as he picked his way back across the carnage. He supposed if he had found no bodies of any others yet, then there was a slim chance they were there. He needed a change from the carnage of the previous battle anyway.

He sighed, kicking up a weapon as he passed it and eyed it. Nothing he recognised. He sounded frantic, like there was something wrong, Chan noted to himself as he replayed the data of the call through one of his ear pieces. Hyung, you need to get to camp now, he never says I have to do anything, like that.

He bit his lip, worrying it as he moved. The tone the younger had used worried him for no good reason. It was then it hit him, Jeongin was panicking and that worried him more.

The ten minute run back to base was nerve wracking. He'd abandoned the caution and grace he normally moved with, sprinting until he was there. With the other... Seven? The man quickly counted, reaching his arms for Jeongin, who buried himself into the elder's chest as soon as he could.

The missing member of their group faded from his mind briefly as he took in the shaking boy in his arms. Then at Woojin, who's eyes were downcast, as if he were hiding something. Chan's eyes flicked around the assorted boys in front of him. Taking a roll call in a way.

Woojin, Jeongin, Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Minho, Jisung... Where's Felix? Chan's eyes widened, and he glanced at Woojin with a question. The elder fidgeted, avoiding his gaze.

"Where's Felix?" He asked quietly, to the entire group. He felt Jeongin's breath shudder, and saw Woojin freeze. He waited, a full minute according to his database, before he continued.

"Well? Is anyone going to tell me where he is?" Chan’s voice was quiet as he quickly searched for Felix's contact on his database, and tried to connect a line. He frowned sharply when it failed to connect. He glanced at Woojin again, as he quickly looked down. Frustration began to prickle at him, and he hissed in annoyance.

Jeongin flinched, pulling away and diving into Woojin's arms to hide. The latter dropped his weapon, causing it to flicker on and off once with a loud noise, as he wrapped his arms around the youngest in the group.

"That's… That's the problem." He muttered, looking anywhere but Chan, hell even twisting to look at the fake buildings behind them. He could see the pale blue of the ones they had set up a few nights ago from back here, next to they green of Jaebum's team. Woojin sighed, tapping Jeongin on the shoulder and leaning down to whisper to him.

"You have to show him, Jeonginnie." He murmured to him quietly, so that Chan wouldn't hear. He felt the boy tense, more than saw it, a quiet sob escaping him.

"Hyung, why me?"

"Because you were the one who found it, and he was your responsibility today." Jeongin whimpered again, pushing himself away from Woojin and clearing his throat.

"Um, hyung," he started in a quiet voice, looking away from Chan before looking up at him and continuing in a slightly stronger tone, "Channie hyung."

Chan raised an eyebrow, lowering his hand from where it'd been tapping at a screen only he could see. Jeongin swallowed sharply, reaching out a hand for Woojin. The elder’s fingers threaded through his, squeezing his hand gently for support.

"Felix, is uh... Felix is gone." His voice wobbled, as he watched Chan narrowing his eyes at the youngest in his team.

"This isn't a funny joke, Jeongin, I need you to seriously tell me where he is." The boy flinched, as Chan said this, letting himself be swallowed back up into Woojin's warm embrace.

"I-I... I'm not... I'm not joking, hyung. Felix is gone. H-he left his weapon out in the... In the field and, um..." He trailed off, sending a picture of the weapon lying on the dirty ground to Chan. They all knew what it looked like.

Felix had gotten the damned thing coloured a pale blue when it was made, against protocol, and the power lines that normally glowed a soft purple under the boys touch were dull. Chan's eyebrows furrowed, and he held out his hand, motioning for the weapon to be handed to him in proper.

Jeongin's breath hitched, and he reached behind him to draw the capsule out, shaking as he passed it to the leader. The normally warm grip was cold, and didn't light up or activate when Chan touched the hollow. He nodded slowly.

"Alright Lix, you can come out now. This isn't funny." He called in English, turning in a slow circle.

"Hyung, with all due respect, in what world would Felix ever leave his weapon behind like that?" Chan's head jerked to face Jisung, the blind boy leaning on Changbin heavily, his breath coming out harshly. He tilted his head, so the dulled colour of his eyes drifted to meet Chan's, before wincing and clenching them tightly shut.

"Felix was, ecstatic, when he got that made. What makes you think, he would ever let that leave his side?" He slumped, slipping in Changbin’s grasp, before pulling his head back up to stare at the elder. Chan winced at the boy's appearance. Blood covered, and trembling, Jisung looked like he was moments away from collapsing. Which, considering the extensive use of his mods, he most likely was.

"Really think about it hyung." Chan tore his eyes away to look back down at the pale blue instrument in his hand. The man stared at it, taking in the worn cylinder shape before cursing.

"Shit." He muttered, glancing around the group as a whole, eyebrows furrowing again as he passed the device back to Jeongin.

"Who was supposed to be with him today? Why was Felix by himself?" He asked quietly, examining carefully. His eyes caught onto the way Jeongin seemed to sink into himself, how his gaze fluttered anywhere but Chan. He waited a moment longer, before the younger hesitantly stepped forwards, his hands fidgeting together.

"Me, hyung. We, um... got separated half way through, I wasn't able to, um… Find him again after. Sorry." He mumbled, before diving back into Woojin's arms to hide. There was a moment of silence, where the whole group watched Chan with unease, as the man took a deep breath and nodded.

"You two were at the perimeter breach then?" At a nod from the younger boy, Chan just rubbed his face, letting out a slow breath.

"Right then. You all get back to camp. Changbin, make sure you get Jisung to his bed. He looks like he's about to collapse." He ordered quickly, watching as Jisung promptly started whining at him and as Seungmin reached over for Hyunjin, pulling the taller boy to his feet.

The boy stared down at the ground as they walked through the gap between more tightly compacted homes, clenching and unclenching his fists. His companion watched, in quiet remorse. Hyunjin would talk in his own time, he was always like that, and Minho didn't want to force him.

"I could've been there." The quiet sounds of the other had Minho alert, walking faster to catch up with the other, his head tilted slightly to the side. He took a moment to sort out his words before he replied.

"What?"

"I could have been there with Felix. I should've known Jeongin was still recovering, fuck, I helped him bandage his wounds this morning," Hyunjin turned to face him, eyes wider than normal, "I knew and I still let him go, with Felix."

"And if it hadn't been Felix who'd vanished, it'd probably would've been Jeongin. Are you really going to condemn him, the youngest of our unit, because you want to save a foreigner? News flash, that's pretty shitty of you, Hyunjin." Minho hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh, or as pained as it did, but the words stopped the other dancer. He looked like he wanted to raise a hand and slap him.

"Well at least we'd know that if it was Jeongin, he would be fine. He doesn't need to be paired up like Felix does. Or like you and Jisung. Honestly, it's a wonder any of you three made it out of the training barracks in the first place," He sounded bitter, "Hell, you probably only got moved out because you're a human poster boy for our unit."

Minho flinched, the colour leaving his face. That had stung a bit. Hyunjin of all people knew how hard he had worked to get this far. The long, sleepless nights he'd had where he'd gone over a single module over and over, on repeat until he could repeat it backwards to you in his sleep. Hyunjin seemed to realised what he’d said a moment later, because his eyes widened and he took a step towards the elder.

"Hyung, I--"

"Don't. Just, don't." Minho cut him off, stepping back out of his reach. He swallowed, taking a deep breath.

"Don't, don't say anything. You know, exactly what the fuck you said. And maybe you weren't thinking, but you fucking need to. Do you know, how hard, I worked to get to this point. How hard, Jisung worked to get to where he is? How hard, Felix worked?" He was shaking, he knew he needed to stop. Stop now.

"You know what? This wouldn't have even been a problem if you hadn't made assumptions about what I thought about Jeongin. This whole thing could've been avoided if you'd kept your damned mouth shut!" Hyunjin snapped back, turning on his heel and stalking off through the homes.

Minho stood there, stunned for a moment before he huffed and turned away, to start heading the other way. To his surprise, a darker haired young man stood there, leaning on the pale lavender of the wall next to him. Jisung tilted his head, staring way too far off to be looking at him, but Minho knew he was listening, all the same.

"That could've been handled better by both of you. Really." He stated, in a dry voice. Minho swallowed, eyes flicking anywhere but the younger. There was a tense moment before Jisung turned away.

"How much of that did you hear?" Minho asked cautiously, as he watched the boy rest his hand on the structure next to him, and use it to lead his way back to their area with a practiced manner.

"I heard enough. You two weren't exactly the quietest." He winced at the reply, quickly moving to follow the boy back, "It's fun to see you two arguing over some stupid shit like Felix going missing."

The sarcasm was so dense Minho could practically cut it. Another moment passed and he started following Jisung back, quickly catching up to the boy and offering him an arm to lean on. Jisung clearly hesitated, before leaning his weight fully on the elder, with a barely muffled whimper.

"I know all of us hate it, but... We have to be strong. Fighting with Hyunjin isn’t being strong." He whispered, brushing dark hair off his face. He didn't need to see past it, he just disliked the feeling of it on his face. Or that's what he said anyway. Minho sighed, holding the boy up as they walked.

"You're supposed to be asleep you know. Chan hyung would have a fit if he saw you here now." He whispered instead of replying to the younger. Jisung shrugged once, shoulders rising and falling.

"Couldn't sleep, mess tents over there somewhere. I was gonna go get something to eat, but..." Minho winced again, before hesitantly wrapping his other arm around the other boy to hug him.

"Sorry." Jisung shrugged again.

Seungmin let his head fall back and hit the wall behind him with a sharp yelp, as Woojin cleaned his wound with quick, gentle movements. Beside him, Changbin sat reading one of the elder's books, engrossed in the writing on the page. He seemed almost at peace, an eyebrow quirked as his eyes scanned over the cream page, but one could tell by the subtle way he was glaring at the page that something was up.

"Hanging in there? Seungmin?" Woojin dragged the youngest back to reality, prompting a nod from the boy, "Good. I'm going to run some pain tests. Tell me if it gets above a seven." Seungmin nodded again, and waited as Woojin attached the machine’s wires before he started speaking in a quiet tone.

"Six, six, Seven, six." He stated, as the machine went through, testing his wound and the surrounding area with gentle pressure and faint beeps. Woojin nodded once at a loud beep, detaching him with quick, efficient movements.

"Good." He noted as he started bandaging Seungmin's side, turning his attention to Changbin, "Have you slept yet Changbin? You've been running around for everyone all day today. Don't lie to me, I saw you physically carry Jisung." Changbin looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm still probably going to get more sleep than Chan hyung will in the next twenty four hours, and you're asking me?" He questioned, glancing back down at the book and flipping the page.

"You know, it's not a competi--" Seungmin started, to get cut off by Changbin.

"I'm not saying it is. I'm merely stating a fact. Chan and Felix came from the same sector on earth. With Felix missing, Chan's going to lose more sleep than he already is. That's how it was in our original team, it's how it'll be now." He looked up at Seungmin, staring at him blankly.

The younger's eyes widened. All of them had heard rumours of what had happened, things like that happened in a company, but they really heard any of them speak about their original team, before Chan had become leader of his own.

“Whatever, I’ll go crash if you want me to that badly.” He finished, closing the book and placing it to the side, “It’ll do me some good anyway. I can take Seungmin with me if you’re done with him, hyung. You probably need to sleep as well, no?” The boy rose in a fluid motion and dusted his jeans off. Woojin nodded, motioning for Seungmin to pull his shirt down.

“Ah, I wanted to go to the mess hall.” Seungmin mumbled, tugging his shirt down over the bandage and standing up with a wince.

“That’s gonna hurt for a few more days, Seungmin. Be careful with that.” Woojin commented, from where he was packing up the wires, “I can go get you something later, anyway. You and Changbin should both sleep. That’s not up for negotiation.”

Changbin nodded, motioning to Seungmin for him to follow as he left the building into the rapidly darkening night sky. The elder visibly relaxed the moment the pair were outside.

“Are you actually tired at all hyung?” Seungmin asked after a moment of walking, as he watched the elder quietly. His hair was pushed off of his face and the glare that he’d become known around base for was shown, but Seungmin knew the moment they were alone, it’d come down.

“No. I left to get hyung off my back. Probably wants to sleep himself if I’m being frank.” Seungmin nodded, watching Changbin a little longer.

“Are we gonna find him?” He asked, voice trembling as he looked down and away. A sense of hollowness was beginning to fill his chest, crushing him and making him want to curl up. More than anything did he just want to give the loud Australian a hug. To find him.

He heard Changbin sigh, before a hand patted his arm in an awkward motion.

“We’ll find him, I promise.” He dropped his arm back to his side soon after, the hand disappearing into his pocket, “It’s not like it’s the first time one of our team has gotten lost on the field anyway.”

“Jisung doesn’t count, hyung.” Changbin chuckled gently at the remark.

“We’ve never actually lost Jisung, luckily. Channie hyung got lost for a couple hours once though.” Seungmin giggled gently, as Changbin led them through the maze of artificial buildings, “Gave all of us a kick. I think, Kuni--The sector 13 guy in Jaebum sunbaemin’s team, BamBam, that’s his name. BamBam tried to take a shot at me because of it.”

Seungmin nodded with a light hum, thinking to himself.

“How’d he get lost?” Changbin snorted, running his fingers along the weapon strapped to his thigh, feeling the reassuring shape of it under them.

“He saw a flower, native to the planet --Chaeryeong’s planet I think. Our squad walked off without him, not even realising we’d lost a man. Jisung found him about four, five hours later just examining plants.” He looked at Seungmin, with an expression just asking if he believed this at all.

“I can imagine Felix doing something similar, actually.” The younger mumbled thoughtfully, after a moment of just contemplating the story

“It’s why I think we should give him a day before we report him missing. But, protocol says you have to do it as soon as it’s noticed.”

“Shitty.” Seungmin mumbled quietly, along with a nod from Changbin.

“Yeah, well… After what happened with Youngjae..” He trailed off. Which was fine, they didn’t talk about what had happened to the man anyway. Seungmin nodded, reaching out to hold onto Changbin for support. He didn’t think this team could handle a repeat of Youngjae.

Jaebum’s team barely had. And they’d been together for years before it’d happened, much longer than they had.

“No one’s going to let Youngjae repeat. Not with Felix, not with anyone.” Seungmin said, quietly and firmly. Changbin sighed, nodding grimly. The younger relaxed, stretching his arms over his head with a quiet sigh. He wondered if he could convince Changbin to let him go to the mess hall before it closed…

“There’s a good chance Felix actually did just see a flower mid battle, actually.” Changbin broke the comfortable silence that had filled the lull in the conversation, drawing Seungmin’s attention from his thoughts and quirking his lips. Yeah, he probably could convince the elder.

Walking up to the building his boss used as the strategy room was always going to intimidate him (the building was imposing after all, designed to defend the office workers in the fleet). And that was before he had to report a missing person. Chan didn’t know if this day could get any worse honestly.

Actually, he didn’t want to test that. That’s what he had thought before Jisung’s accident and the whole mess that came after. He shook his head.

Report Felix missing first, then worry about the rest, He told himself sharply, flashing his identification at the datapad on the door. It slid open with a hiss, giving Chan a brief moment to compose himself before strolling in.

Inside, a young man was calmly talking to one of the few people in the room, a young woman with a lime stripe down the shoulder of her uniform, one of the people he had to speak to. Chan sighed, glancing around for another of the lime stripped workers, before a tap on the shoulder drew his attention.

“It’s odd to see you in here, Bang Chan. You avoid this building like the plague, no?” He turned his head, before dipping into a slight bow upon noting who the speaker was.

“Jaebum hyung.” He greeted after a moment, before looking away. The elder man smiled warmly, casting a worried glance over him once Chan had stopped looking.

“Why are you here?” Jaebum asked softly. Chan tensed, his eyes flicking to the ground.

“That’s…” He hesitated, memories of screams filling his head, and he debated telling the truth. After all, he didn’t know how sensitive the topic he had in mind was for Jaebum. But the elder had been waiting for approximately thirty seconds now, and he was too tired to think up a convincing lie right this moment.

“Felix went missing during the perimeter breach, and I can’t get a line through to him.” He slowly said, watching as Jaebum’s expression transitioned from pure curiosity, to mild shock. Another moment passed before that transitioned into worry and horror.

“You’re joking.” He whispered, face drained of colour. Chan knew he should have lied to the elder.

“I really wish I was. Jeongin was paired with him today but they got separated during the breach, and none of us can contact him.” He murmured quietly, looking anywhere but Jaebum at this point. Those floor patterns were starting to look rather interesting.

“I… I’ll let you report that, then. Maybe send BamBam your way later as well, lords know you’ll need him.” Chan looked back up, into the worrying eyes of the man, and smiled weakly.

“Don’t wake him up for it, if he’s asleep. That’s all I ask.” Jaebum smiled at him, nodding quickly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He agreed quietly, before slipping out of the way, “I’ll leave you to it then.” He nodded before leaving Chan's field of view. He was grateful for that, looking for the nearest person with a lime stripe. He relaxed as one waved him over.

“Evening Captain. What can I do for you?” The woman asked as he jogged over, her hands resting on the datapad before her. Chan checked his database for Felix quickly.

“I'm here to make a report?” The woman nodded, directing him to another screen. Made sense, you couldn't use personal screens for everything, he noted to himself as he passed over to it. He tapped the screen gently, pausing before sighing to himself.

“God, which name did he even use?” Chan tapped the screen again, buttons leading him from mission report, to missing person report . He hesitated, before tapping in ‘Lee Felix’.

Did he even register with Felix? He thought, groaning as the results turned up negative. And typed in the other’s Korean name with a sigh.

Of course he used Yongbok. Couldn’t use his English name to sign up for this could he? He sighed, tapping Felix’s name as the screen lit up with his face. Chan quickly tapped  in how long Felix had been missing for and rubbed his face. It’d be so much easier to write this on actual paper, he decided.

The man sighed again, as he let himself relax slightly, sending the report in and quickly turned to leave. He bowed in the direction of the woman who’d helped him as he left the building, taking a deep breath and shaking off unease, vaguely wondering how much sleep he’d get that night. Probably not a lot if he were to be frank about it.

“You look stressed.” A voice whispered, before Jeongin was beside him and hugging him. It comforted Chan, as the pair walked back to their camp site.

“I am, second night on a new world and Felix has gone and gotten himself lost and I found out he's used Yongbok to sign up for this goddamn army.” Jeongin hummed in response, clinging tighter to the man with a frown. A moment of quiet passed the two of them before he even tried replying.

“I thought he hated that name.”

“Well obviously not enough to sign up as Lee, fucking, Felix.” The younger nodded, as Chan snapped angrily at the memory.

“Sounds rough. Have you eaten since we got back, like at all?” Chan paused, before shaking his head and looking over at Jeongin.

“No, not yet.” He mumbled, quietly ducking his head. Jeongin giggled, slipping out of the hug and intertwining his fingers with the elders.

“Good, I'm hungry so we're getting food now. I wanna see if they've got chicken in the mess hall tonight.” The elder chuckled, pulling the boy close with a nod.

“We'll see, if not we can bother hyung for help.”

 They were all sitting in a circle when the news came, in the form of a beep from Chan’s screen. It had been a week since Felix had vanish, during which they’d been forced to sit in standby as the searches and fights went on. So what’d Chan do? He’d set up a film for the group. Thankfully, for Jisung’s ears, he’d made sure that Minho and Hyunjin were separated.

Jisung really didn’t know how much more of their bickering he could deal with honestly. And to be real, he’d probably shoot both of them if he could see or access his weapon right then if they so much as started up again. He was sick of it.

So when the beep does echo around the room, the first thing Jisung does is lean over Minho and Woojin’s laps to poke at who he thought was Chan, though it could be Seungmin from the feel of the cloth (A cotton t shirt. He vaguely recalled that only those two were wearing cotton t shirts that day). He was lucky when it really was Chan.

“Channie hyung~” The boy whined, poking the elder a few more times, “Channie  hyung, what was that~” He felt a slight tap on his ankle, from Minho he thought, before he was pulled back into a normal sitting position with another whine.

“Let the man read it first, ‘Sung, god.” Jisung smiled slightly, sitting up straighter and turning his head to a random direction, (Jeongin wasn’t sure he was comfortable with Jisung’s eyes looking at him so early in the morning, not after the last time he’d done that.) and humming. He heard Chan laugh from where he was sitting.

“Alright, alright. I’m checking it.” There was a quiet lull in the room, one that hadn’t been there for a couple days, as Chan read the notification. Jisung pouted, reaching his hands over to his left and playing with the hem of Jeongin’s jacket. Chan took a breath, and Jisung heard his hair rustling as the elder presumably ran his fingers through it, before he spoke.

“There’s good news, ish, and bad news.” Besides him, he felt Jeongin tense, the younger suddenly more alert. “They found Felix’s gear, no Felix. He’s just vanished into thin air apparently.” He heard a couple people murmur, before Changbin coughed.

“It doesn’t seem like Felix to do that.” He noted quietly. Chan nodded.

“You’re right. So, my suspicion is he’s probably been captured somewhere.” Jisung felt Jeongin (Was it though? He didn’t want to turn his mods on to check) tense up beside him, and went to pet his arm in reasurance.

“So, that’s the bad news?” He shouldn’t have to have asked, but he did anyway. Chan hummed, in the quiet assenting way he did.

“Good, ish, news is they’re rotating us back to Earth. Which means that you two,” He felt Jeongin shift again, and Jisung knew he was referring to Hyunjin and Jeongin now, “Can stop by your homes if you want on the way.”

There was a nervous chuckle, and he knew that about then Hyunjin would be running his hands through his hair in a slight panic. Going home would mean his hair would need to be redyed. He was self conscious enough about his eyes, without people seeing how ashen his hair was every time he returned from his birth planet. Jisung flickered on his mods (He couldn’t see where the fuck Hyunjin was), crawling over to Hyunjin and leaning himself against the taller before turning them off.

“You don’t have to Jinnie.” Hyunjin hummed in appreciation. Slim fingers began to brush through the Jisung’s hair in response, and he heard someone crack a joint.

“If, you’re rotating us home, when are you gonna be picking us back up?”That would be Jeongin, and Hyunjin put in his piece with a quiet hum. There was a pause, during which Jisung could only imagine what was happening.

“As soon as you want. The offer is just there in case you want to. Think of it as, a break before we have to relearn a bunch of modules. At least until we find Felix.” The fingers in Jisung’s hair paused, before starting to move again.

“In that case, I’d like to visit my mother and father.” He heard another pleased sound, this one from Chan.

“Lovely, I’ll let the boss know for you. Jeongin? Are you going to visit your’s?”  Jisung sat up, dragging himself closer to Hyunjin to steal body warmth.

“I don’t think I could face my dad after letting Felix get lost.” There was another quiet hum from Chan.

“Fair enough. Still, at least drop in for a bit while we pass.” Jeongin groaned in response.

“Ya! Take me with you Jeonginnie~” Jisung whined, sitting up to pat in the younger’s direction (He pat Changbin’s knee). Jeongin paused, before mumbling out a quiet ‘why’

“Because my parents are probably off planet again.” Chan sighed, as Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around Jisung.

“You know you probably have more tests, right Jisung?” He groaned, twisting to bury his face into Hyunjin’s shirt, the buttons pressing uncomfortably against his face.

“I don’t want to though. They’re just going to be trying to find a way to make it less exhausting for me, and then I’m going to collapse because nothing they do works.” He heard yet another sigh, before the sound of someone moving over reached him and Chan’s arms wrapped around him.

Jisung huffed, leaning into the touch. And just like that, his good mood was gone. Good Dammit Felix where are you?

[detectivefoxyroxydpd]

━ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ

         private thread between @blackcoffeefumes and officerfoxyroxydpd ♡

     “Remind me again why everyone back home would want snow?” She murmured, arms tightening the hold she had around herself in an attempt to warm-up. She had only encountered snow at the Grand Canyon, if that even truly counted as snow. There hadn’t been much of it, after all. Not to mention, it had never been freezing at the Grand Canyon. Her arrival in the Midwest begun her first experience with snowfall...and blizzards. It would be a lie if Roxy said she hadn’t wanted to experience her own White Christmas, but looking at her current landscape -- cloudy skies, grey slush lining the roads, clearly miserable people -- she decided was contemplating taking that sentiment back. Still, she found herself fascinated with the fleeting glimpses she could steal of the snowflakes painting the passenger-side window. It was a much-desired distraction from the figurative snowstorm in the pit of her stomach.

“The grass is always greener on the other side, right? You get used to it...or not. Just think -- Now you get all four seasons!” A hum came from her sister, her eyes not straying from the road as she continued on to the station. For one reason or another, she had insisted on driving her younger sister to her first day of work. It was probably their mother’s doing, unable to see her little girl moving on to other opportunities -- This would be the next best option. As much as Roxy appreciated the thought, she wasn’t exactly fond of being babied at twenty-four. “Rox, for someone who wears the exact same hairstyle every day, you sure seem occupied messing with it.” Roxy turned away from her compact mirror, sending the older an icy glare, but sighing in defeat. She wasn’t wrong, per se. “I swear I will teach you how to do your hair, yet...Then again, you did climb up the ranks back home no problem, even if your hair was an unprofessional mess on a daily.” Corrine snickered, ignoring her sister’s stink-eye as it grew in intensity. “What I’m trying to say, Rox,” she began as they pulled into the precinct parking lot, “Is that you are going to be just fine, messy hair or not. You’ll be at the top of the food chain in no time. Now. Go show those boys what you’re made of.” 

Roxy hadn’t expected her sister’s reassurances to calm her nerves as much as they did. Nonetheless, she appreciated them...even if the feelings only lasted as far as the entrance to the station. Adjusting the grip on the cardboard box she was carrying, she stepped through the sliding doors. Despite it being her first time in the precinct, she couldn’t help the sense of deja-vu washing over her. These nerves -- Navigating an unfamiliar station and knowing her place at the bottom of the food-chain...she had only experienced the once, long ago. Yet, they felt all too familiar. 

You’ve earned your place here, Roxy. Now, prove it to everyone else.

It didn’t take much time to find her respective place. In fact, there was already a desk with her name on it. There was a quick swelling of pride in her chest as she set down the box on her desk. She strode to the other side, her fingers tracing the back of the chair before digging into the box. However, she didn’t get far into setting up. Her gaze was drawn to the sound of footsteps approaching. Recognition crept its way up her features, and she swiftly moved to meet the man halfway. “Captain Fowler.” They had communicated via video a handful of times starting from her acceptance of the employment opportunity to discussing the transition process. “It’s a pleasure. Captain Morgan back at the PPD tells me only great things. I’m honored to be working for the DPD.” 

“Likewise, Miss Gutierrez. DPD is lucky to have an officer of your caliber on our team. With these deviant cases piling up like this – We need all the information we can get on these androids.” His words didn’t match his hard expression, but the sincerity in his words allowed her another sense of pride. She noted his slight distraction as he took in her appearance -- specifically, her eyes. While he had seen them several times through the lens of a camera, she wasn’t surprised or offended by his intrigue. After all, a pair of eyes like hers were rare to come by. “I know we’ve discussed placing you with a partner. Based on what Captain Morgan has told me, you clearly can handle yourself. However, given your new position here in the precinct--”

“There is no need to explain, Captain. I’d be grateful if someone showed me the ropes.” While she wasn’t exactly lying, she wouldn’t deny the slight irritation at the realization that she would be getting babysat. Still, the route being taken made sense -- It was imperative she knew the in’s and out’s of this place. If moving up in the ranks meant putting aside her pride and following behind someone else -- Then so be it. After all, this would be just another opportunity to prove herself. Giving him a reassuring smile, she went on, “So, who exactly is this partner of mine?”

Roxy grew curious as the Captain’s expression turned almost apprehensive. “Again, given your rank back at the PPD, I’m confident it won’t take long for you to be off on your own. That being said, I’ve decided to place you with one of our own accomplished...I will warn you, he isn’t the most...amiable.” She swore he grimaced as he motioned her to follow with a nod of his head. “He’s probably in his usual spot.” It didn’t take long for her to realize he was leading her toward the break room. Before entering, Captain Fowler called out, “Reed! Could you pay attention to something other than your coffee for once? There’s something we need to discuss.” It took everything in Roxy’s power not to show any signs of amusement -- Especially a laugh. The two approached a the gruff male standing before the coffee machine. While his appearance was overall clean, he definitely was on the rougher side. If Roxy hadn’t seen her fair share of men like him, perhaps she would have been intimidated. “This is Officer Roxanne. Gutierrez, the new transfer. We already spoke regarding your temporary partnership. I expect you’ll be nothing, but cordial, Reed. She’s quite accomplished already, so I expect you’ll be back to being solo in no time. Are we clear?” Before she knew it, the tense exchange had ended. Fowler excused himself back to his office and his duties, leaving the two alone.

Just from the conversation alone, it was obvious he would be her biggest challenge to begin with. Nonetheless, her expression gave no clues as to her thoughts. She simply extended her hand, flashing him a coy smile before teasing, “I suppose you’ll be babysitting me for the time being. Call me Roxy. I look forward to working with you, Detective Reed. So...where do we start?” 

[toomanyficsyetwantsomemore]

  Dean’s the one to take him to prom, after all, he’d promised Sam he’d drop him off didn’t he?

  And then he disappears off to - wherever. Leaving Sam alone. Outside of his current high school. Frankly, Sam would give anything to be a normal guy… any other day. But right now, standing in front of the school, lights flashing and music blasting from within, he’d give anything to be anywhere else right now—

  Except that’s a lie. Because he’d rather be back in the with Dean, headed wherever his brother is going off to until Sam texts him to come pick him up unless he texts Dean not to expect him till the morning.

  He suddenly remembers, and can’t seem to forget how much Dean avoided his eyes at that moment.

  Right now, however, Dean isn’t here, and his friends have already spotted him. Feeling like his feet is dragging through sand, he steps forward, entering anyway albeit with severe reluctance.

  Prom is awkward. Everyone’s having fun, dancing, singing, drinking, smoking, but really, Sam can’t bring himself to have fun as well along with everyone else. Mind, he’s smiling, and he’s dancing, but if anyone knew him any better — Dean — then they would see the blatantly empty look in his eyes as he awkwardly dances to the music in a way only a teenager not yet filling into an adult could.

  His eyes are glued to the time. He’s actually sneaking a glance at the watch on the wrist of a dude beside him when a voice in front of him breaks his thoughts.

  “Can I have this dance?”

  And right in front of him, replacing black with a white shirt and lighter colored jeans that still hug his ass just right, color coordinating perfectly with Sam, is his big brother. A hand extends, a signature playful smirk in place, heat darkening his eyes.

  Sam’s throat goes dry. For the briefest second, the world around him disappears. And then, like a hammer slamming the nail, sound floods back in with an eruption. He suddenly remembers his friends shoving at him, now unmoving as they silently gawk at Dean.

  Grinning, his smile practically splitting in his face and, for the first time the entire night, reaching his eyes, Sam grabs on to Dean’s hand.

  “Hell, yes.”

  They dance. They drink the spiked punch. They avoid the rest of the people that are going a bit harder with the drugs that have been snuck in. And time seems to simultaneously drag and fly, with Dean’s hands in his hips, and hands, and back, and shoulders, and practically anywhere and everywhere Dean can get his hands on Sam, not once letting go. Sam can’t bring himself to mind.

  And when people finally start to leave, crew members coming in to do their work, Dean’s grin swiftly grows mischievous, from where it had previously been soft, content, and completely centered on Sam. It still is that - solely for Sam - but now his eyes are regaining a darker twinkle, and he lets go of Sam’s sides to grab onto his hands, speed walking them out of the school. Sam lets his brother take lead even though he personally can’t remember the last time Dean must have actually stepped foot in here before. If he ever did, that is.

  And when Dean pushes him into the backseat of the Impala, parked in the furthest corner of the parking lot? Sam’s own grin starts to get a lot smugger as well.

  He ends up with his elder brother first, Dean climbing atop him before slamming the door shut behind himself. Which he’s totally cool with, especially when Dean, lips pressing against his and barely giving Sam a moment to breathe, pulls his jeans down with nimble fingers. He kicks it off, and at Dean’s guidance, spreads his legs so that —

  Oh, god.

  He bucks his hips, throwing his head back as he lets out a long moan, hands flying up to uselessly scramble at the window as Dean swallows him down in one go.

  Dean hums. When Sam manages to wrench his eyes open, Dean’s smirking up at him from where he’s got his red, swollen, spit-slicked lips touching the base of his cock. Groaning, he reaches down, tangling his fingers in Dean’s hair, and tugs, hips jerking when Dean abruptly sucks.

  Because he’s Dean, he’s got Sam about to blow within embarrassingly short minutes, and it’s only Sam’s harsh fingers pulling Dean off of him that keeps him from blowing his load before he’s even ready.

  With his hands on Dean’s chest, he pushes and tugs until they’re flipped. Dean is now under him, staring up at him with wide eyes, mouth glistening with saliva and Sam’s precome. Unable to resist, he bends down, licking into Dean’s mouth, kissing and sucking the taste of himself out of his brother’s mouth. He digs his hands into his brother’s hair, hips bucking and grinding until Dean’s legs fall open, letting Sam fall into his usual position between them.

  This time, Sam’s the one to catch Dean off guard, kissing him as he undoes the pants that his brother must have so obviously changed into, for Sam, and for his prom. He vaguely wonders if maybe they should have taken pictures first before the idea is quickly sailing out of his mind, just as fast as he moves down so he’s staring at Dean’s cock. When he exhales, its a puff of hot air that lands against Dean’s shining hole.

  Dean shivers.

  Fuck cameras. He’s not gonna need pictures to remember this moment.

  He surges forward, tasting cherry lube, but under that and more importantly, his brother. Dean shudders above him, hands a lot gentler than Sam as he threads his fingers through Sam’s hair, legs tightening around his head. Skimming his hands over the smooth plane of skin bared to him and for him only, he digs his fingers into the meat by his ears, forcing them to widen again as Sam pushes his tongue in as deep as it can go, licking into the warm, silken muscle there, closing his eyes and inhaling his brother’s musk deeply as Dean moans.

  Saliva gathers in his mouth, and he’s quick to push it into Dean’s hole, tongue thrusting relentlessly. A hand let’s go of Dean’s hand so that a finger can stroke Dean’s perineum, and that’s all it takes for Dean to lose it, out of the blue, coming without warning. He quickly brings his other hand up to stroke Dean through his orgasm, and Dean yells, almost curling up into a ball as Sam’s hand jerks at his sensitive organ. He writhes through his orgasm, a moan getting cut off halfway through. Dean completely stops breathing, and when he finally stops spilling all over Sam’s hand and even up to his chest, Dean relaxes, falling back on the seat with a thump and a sigh, breathing in heavy gasps as he comes down from the post-orgasmic high.

  Pushing himself up, Sam crawls forward until his cock is bumping against Dean’s hole. His brother doesn’t even bother to tense. If anything, his legs part further, his eyes still closed as he absently reaches up for Sam’s face, scratching at Sam’s scalp with weak fingers. Grabbing the hand, Sam presses a harsh kiss to it before he sucks in a finger along with his own, licking Dean’s come off his hand. By then, Dean finally comes online, not completely, but enough to reach down and start jerking Sam off with slow, languid movements. Half a dozen pulls in, Sam comes, all over Dean’s hole, and he’s betting some lands inside his brother as well.

  Grunting, Sam’s hips jerk one last time, and then he’s falling, landing on Dean’s chest, his brother letting out a small oof at the weight.

  A moment passes where they both just silently try to regain their breaths, before Dean starts to laugh, his legs clenching around Sam, Sam’s cock grazing against his hole.

  “Dude. We haven’t taken off our shirts. And you’ve just landed on my come.”

[sargenthouse]

Jaye Jayle interivew // Destroy//Exist

No Trail and Other Unholy Paths, the upcoming album by Jaye Jayle, follows the band's mighty impressive recent offerings, House Cricks and Other Excuses to Get Out, their debut full length from 2016, and The Time Between Us, a collaborative EP with Emma Ruth Rundle. There are a few points about it one could emphasize on right off the bat, like the fact that it was produced by David Lynch’s music supervisor of the last twelve years, Dean Hurley, that it features another collaboration with Rundle, and that it bears no specific beginning or ending, with its songs designed to be experienced in any sequence the listener chooses. 

Full interview via Destroy//Exist.

Jaye Jayle's Americana-noir sound has always been enticing, but never voiced better than how it is on the coming record. 

The multi-talented and cultivated Evan Patterson answers a few questions. 

What made you decide to put Young Windows aside and begin a project like Jaye Jayle with such a different sound and approach? 

Young Widows hasn't been put aside. I hold the songs and experiences very dear. Nick and Jeremy started families. The time available to create, write, and travel became infrequent. For many years prior to conceiving Jaye Jayle I had been wanting to make compositions that were based around stories or vocal melodies as the lead instrument. Lending the music to relax and settle down somewhere similar to that of film score. I've touched a bit on that concept and sound with Young Widows. 

Never thought of my music groups as being projects. Maybe when Jaye Jayle was first conceived it was more of a project. The process of creating as a group is such an emotional and personal investment. Each piece or song is more of the project within the group. 

How would you describe the band's present dynamic? And how has it advanced since the previous album? 

The group has a steady dynamic. Neal, Todd, Corey, and I spent the majority of our lives together in 2016 and 2017 touring. The closer we become the more advanced our communication through music becomes. Experimenting is much easier now, allowing the songs to be elaborated. House Cricks was a collection of songs from four different sessions. No Trail is consistent to a sound and mood composed as the group. 

What does Dean Hurley bring to the album's sound design? and how does his production complement the compositions? 

I believe that what Dean enjoys to hear in music is what I also enjoy to hear in music. We sent him a massive amount of tracks; Low Again Street had near 80 tracks to sift through. Dean had total creative control as the mixing producer. The result is a wide colorful spectrum of sounds. It's exciting to be able to work with him. 

There's great chemistry between Emma Ruth Rundle and yourself, evident on your prior collaborative EP and on Marry Us, a captivating song on the new album. Are there any other artists you'd imagine as ideal collaborators for Jaye Jayle? 

I'd loved to collaborate with more artists. Yes, more collaborations are must. It's preferred. I dreamt of asking Rachel Grimes if she'd like to collaborate on a piece or album, but have been delaying asking. Drew Miller's saxophone on the album is another perfect example of leaving sections of the composition open for additional collaborative improvised instrumentation. Honestly, I feel that even working with Dean is a collaboration. 

I had the pleasure of collaborating with Emma on her new album earlier this year. No hand in writing the songs, but total freedom to write the additional second guitar parts. Her album came out gorgeous. I'd also love to join more artists. 

Do you prefer physical media over digital? Are you a record collector? 

I prefer all formats and sources for anyone and everyone to listen to music. I just made a playlist on Spotify and was shocked by what all is available through that outlet. I am a record collector. I bought a record today by Flash and the Pan. Their song Walking in the Rain is perfect. The record was three dollars. I'm collecting Ennio Morricone scores. 

What are you currently listening to mostly? 

I've been listening to the score for the film Marco Polo by Ennio Morricone in the evenings. The album Time Was by Zomes has been a favorite for the past three years. Fela Kuti in the mornings. The two most recent PJ Harvey albums are regular listens while on the road. Tangerine Dream, Jim Reeves, Fred Neil, and Einstürzende Neubauten. 

Outside music, what other sources have had heavy impact on your creativity? 

A few. Looking above the rolling hills of Kentucky or the desert in New Mexico. Any elevated perspective or a landscape is inspiring. To see nature in all its beauty gives me a sense of clarity. Film is an big inspiration. Phantom Thread was great. I've also been doing my best to see more visual art around Louisville. There's a few museums in town that are curating some fantastic exhibits. 

The new album's cover looks wonderful, rather abstract at first glance and ultimately pretty bleak. What made you choose that image to represent the music? 

There is something relieving and yet tortured with the image. Placed between the lightness and darkness of nature. It's a balance between those two worlds. Stuck between the heavens and the hells of mental health. 

Having the songs on the record arranged to be non-linear and interchangeable is a very interesting approach, and not something we encounter often. What made you decide to design the LP that way? 

The concept came to me from feeling that regardless of my options and my choices in life, regardless of door A or door B, my paths would have me ending up ultimately in the same placement. We hope to do the things we love and survive. The idea of my desires have seemingly taken me to a place that I felt I could have been in regardless of which wall I tore down or which forest I cut through or ocean I swam through. Forward motion. The direction is not what's important. I've just kept going and trying to bring a sense of joy out through art and never give in. I'm not making this music for anyone else. I'm making it because it makes me feel alive. I have survived thus far because I've continued to not just fall into a pattern or follow a format in life. Everything I live for still feels very strange and exciting. Life is a constant surprise. Guaranteed. 

What does the near future hold for Jaye Jayle? 

The album is out in nine days. We're announcing nine weeks of touring soon. If all goes well, I'd love to complete another album by the end of the year. 

No Trail and Other Unholy Paths releases June 29th, 2018 via Sargent House.

[footballwritersprofile-blog]

Football Fic Writer Profile - Utami (thebluesideofmyworld)

Hello lovely people! We hope that you all are having a great week so far. We meet again in another article, featuring one of the fic writers from the football fandom.

Have we told you before that we felt like there are so many fic writers who were born on February? Here’s another one who was also born on February. On February 14, to be exact.

People, please welcome Utami. And yes, people. It’s her birthday today!

Happy birthday, Utami!

You can find her on her Tumblr ( @thebluesideofmyworld )  where she posts her M/F fics, or you can also go to her AO3 account where she posts her slash fics.

Now let’s refresh our memories about her writing by reading an excerpt from one of her fics

She curled up on her couch, staring at the TV without really looking at it. It was one of her favorite TV shows, yet she could not seem to get excited about it anymore.

Her phone went off. Mats name flashed on the screen. She stared at it for a while, the ringtone sounded so loud, too loud in the living room.

After a while the phone went silent again.

She stared at her phone, thinking that maybe Mats would just be like the other people. Those people who would leave her anyway at the end.

(People always left her anyway. No one wanted to stay with her anyway.)

(Can You Hold Me)

Utami is originally from Indonesia, but she has been in the US since 2013 to do a postgrad degree in Environmental Engineering. She is currently having a massive crush on Asa Taccone, the vocalist from Electric Guest, and spends her times listening to songs from Troye Sivan and Fall Out Boy while waiting for Voltron S05 to be released. She is a supporter of Manchester City and Real Madrid. Those of you who might have checked her blog out would not be surprised to find that her favorite player is David Silva.

She started writing by writing her thoughts in a diary since she was 8 years old, because she said that it had always been easier for her to express what she felt by writing it. In late 2009, she found a fansite for a talent show in her country where she found some fanfics posted there. Out of curiosity, she tried to post the first chapter of a fic there. She ended up writing more and more for that fandom. She said that even though the fandom faded out slowly after the talent show ended, she would still remember it as her first experience in writing fics.

Writing is something that she enjoys because she said that it’s really a good way for her to express herself. She has always had a wild imagination since she was a kid, probably because she loved reading so much. She often has imaginary scenes and conversations in her head, and writing them out is something she find to be soothing. “Lately, I also try to remember what my therapist once told me, that I should see writing as a self-care method and coping mechanism for me, as I feel through writing, I can be a better version of myself.”

Even though she has been watching football ever since she was a kid, the first time she encountered football fics was in 2012. She read the fics and started wondering whether she could also do one. In December 2012, she decided to give it a try, and her first football fic was about David Silva with an OFC. “I cringed whenever I read it,” she said. “I changed the POV every 2 paragraphs, the dialogue was unnatural, and the description was so so bland.” However, she said that it was her fic that was written in English so she felt like it’s something that she should be proud of.

Besides one-shot, she also used to do requests where she would write 100-word drabble based on a song requested by someone. “I love the challenge of trying to understand the meaning behind the songs, then put it into a limited number of words,” she said. Since 2015, she also started writing slash fics. She personally found that it had a different kind of challenge. “In slash fics, the pairing usually already had some sort of chemistry that’s shown through their interactions in real life. So the real challenge is how to put those chemistry into words.” Besides the football fandom, since last year, she has also written for the riordanverse fandom. For this fandom then, she said that there is another kind of challenge, which was how put the characters into her story and head-canon without making them OOC.

Her inspirations mainly come from songs, and music videos. Whenever she found a song that she liked, she would look up the meaning of that song and try to analyze each line of the song. “I love MVs that have some sort of story line,” she said. “Some of my fics for the riordanverse fandom were inspired by MVs, like Wildfire from Seafret, and First Time He Kissed a Boy by Kadie Elder.”

Once she gets an idea for a fic, she will jot down some things that she thought would be essential in the fic in her journal. Music is a big must whenever she writes a fic, along with a cup of coffee. One of her strategies in writing is by making herself write at least 500 words every day. She finds it to be quite effective, especially when she is working on a multi-chaptered fic.

While she really enjoys writing fluff, she said that she can’t write some angst. According to her, real life is already hard enough, so she doesn’t want to put more sadness into something that supposed to be an escape. She particularly loves AU fics. “It takes quite a lot of imagination to put the characters into a whole different set of universe, yet you still have to write them as who they really are canonically. I enjoy both reading it and writing it.” When it comes to the kind of AU that she likes, she said that she is a sucker for Soulmate!AU fic and Coffee Shop AU (Well, considering that she drinks at least 4 cups of coffee a day, we was not really surprised about this).  She also mentioned that one of her favorite tropes is Fake Dating. She told us that one of her fics that she’s most proud of is The Thin Line. “It’s about  David/Joe which is one of my favorite pairings, it’s an AU fic, and it’s a fake dating one. And somehow I managed to squeeze in Fernando Torres to give a shovel talk in the fic.” Here’s an excerpt of that fic:

David looked up at Joe and his eyes were wide and warm. But the look in those caramel eyes were a mix of longing and sincerity and something vulnerable. Joe absently thought whether it was the same kind of look that David found in his eyes. Joe cupped David’s cheek with one hand, gently ran the pad of his thumb over David’s jaw. They were still swaying along with the music but their feet moved slower and slower, like the way the final notes of a symphony faded away before it ended. He slowly leaned forward and everything was starting to blur into slow motion. Joe could see each and every single one of David’s lashes. A little part of his mind realized that at some point they had stopped moving but at the moment Joe also felt like they were inside an invisible bubble, mist and cloud around them. Joe stopped moving right when the tip of his nose touched David’s. David’s breathing was warmly ghosting, almost like teasing, against his skin.

David’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands slid up Joe’s neck, threading his fingers between Joe’s curls. Joe closed his eyes but behind his eyelids he saw the cherry red of David’s cheeks, the rosy red of David’s lips.

In her writing, some of the lines can come in such a lyrical, almost poetical way, even when she was only using simple words. For example, let’s have a look at an excerpt from one of her fics here:

They were close enough that their shoulders sometimes brush each other. But the silence between them stretched like an unbearable distance.

They were so close, Marco could reach out for her hand to hold it.

He didn’t.

(He knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go had he done it)

She never asked him to stay anyway. So Marco left.

(That night Marco dreamt about winning the Champions League with Real Madrid. He won the cup and brought the cup home with him. The home was big and beautiful but it was empty. Marco hated the dream)

(Dream)

Utami said that one of her biggest insecurities in writing is her English. She said that she always finds her grammar is all over the place, especially when it comes to tenses. She also admitted that she felt her vocabulary is really limited, and she often scared whether she’s using the right word with the right context. “But I guess, one of the ways that I can do to improve is by reading even more and just keep on writing,” she said.

At the moment, she is working on two fics for the riordanverse fandom, in which one of them is a Musician!AU. She also mentioned that she has started a Creative Writing challenge last year, and she is considering to continue the challenge this year for the football fics.

We asked her for one tips she would like to share with us, and this is what she gave us.

The best way to improve in writing is just by doing it. It would be much better if you like, really write something, anything, other than just keep on saying that you want to write. Start small. Having 100 words scribbled on a piece of paper is still much better than nothing.

Well people, it has been a great pleasure to know more about Utami. And we hope that you also enjoy it as much as we do!

And as always. Let’s close this with another excerpt from one of her works, that she claimed to be one of the fics that was really dear to her

“So,” James said as they both standing on the pavement. “Well… It was… Nice…” he said, turning his head to look at David.

“Uh. Yeah,” David said, nervously smiled back at James.

His heartbeat started racing like crazy.

Thump thump thump.

He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. It was barely two weeks ago he had his heart broken. He was not ready for this.

(What was this, anyway?)

( The Color of the Sky)