#I feel like I should mention I have nothing against the studio behind Kingdom

[k1ttygam3r]

The Cookie Run: OvenBreak devs somehow making every Yogurca update even fucking worse than the last

[sukirichi]

fall from grace

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?”

“Your name.”

REQUEST/WARNINGS. (royal au, mutual pining, praise kink ) fake dating au, mirror sex, slight manhandling, fingering, body marking, prejudice, mentions of abuse, injustice, and inequality + unedited (I’m so lazy to edit tbh, I’m so sorry, just bear with me if there are typos or grammatical errors)

NOTES. I LOVE AND HATE THIS STORY

WC. 7k+

SONG INSPO. Ashes (Celine Dion)

The prince himself lifted his chin up higher; long, slender fingers deftly grazing against the pad of your knuckles that were pressed on his chest. 

The tips of your ears burned at the sight of people pausing from their conversations all to witness the scene – one that was so rare to have come from the infamous Crown Prince known to have bedded more women than he could count.

“Your Highness,” you pinched your brows together, leaning closer into him to bring you the least bit of comfort. The dress you had to wear today had nothing but itchy lace; albeit elegant, you preferred the loose materials of your dance clothes, painted red lips fighting back a grimace. “Must we really do this in public?”

The Crown Prince laughs, his white hair fluttering against the soft kisses of the wind. Beautiful, you think, beautiful, you are reminded, prompting you to dig your free hand deeper into the flesh of your thighs.

“What would be the point of our ruse if we are not a little flashy, My Lady?”

You frowned at his words, head ducked down as you avoided everyone’s prying eyes. You supposed you should be used to this – you are a performer, after all – but the attention was terribly unwelcomed yet expected from your previous agreements.

The said agreement, however, did not affect your standing as a person, something you had to remind the happy-go-lucky Prince. “I am not of that title.”

“People regard you of it,” he commented at an off-beat, his crystalline eyes sweeping over the crowd with a chilling command, a slight bite of a challenge that asked his people to dare him. When they shifted away, scurrying behind fluffed up skirts and pressed down suits, the Crown Prince snickered, smiling down at you with a flash of his pearly whites. “You are, after all, hanging prettily off my arm.”

“Because you asked me to, Your Highness.”

“Ah, are you forgetting already?” he paused, his long and elegant stature towering over yours. “I’m doing this for the both of us. The agreement was clear – you steered me away from my arranged marriage, redeem my nettling reputation, and in turn, I shall pick you up from where you’ve fallen,” your lips parted in protest, finger raised to correct that no, you had not fallen, that was not the situation at all, but he silenced you when he leaned down close enough that his eyes twinkled before you, lips turned at the side arrogantly. “In fact, I am more than capable of providing you more than that.”

“I am well aware of that, Your Highness. I truly am indebted to you.”

Should you be humiliated? Forming an agreement with the Crown Prince would be the last thing that would ever arrive even in your craziest dreams, yet there you were, in the middle of the town square, leisurely strolling with the Kingdom’s heir as if it was but a daily occurrence.

Thoughts running back to your latest predicament – which he just had to bear witness to – you winced, swallowing the resigned sigh that threatened to spill.

You did not have enough shame in you to be humiliated, not when he was right. It was a mutually beneficial agreement.

“You do not have to be,” Prince Satoru blinked at you, gray lashes fluttered against the pads of his cheeks. “I take extreme pleasure in saving a damsel in distress,” Your lips puckered out, tireless with the need to tell him it wasn’t like that, and the Prince easily read through you, tugging you back into his arm as he laughed. “Even when I know you are not. Still, it does feel nice to take a walk in this fine day, don’t you think?”

You snorted at the heavy sarcasm under his sweet tone, “It feels a little embarrassing.”

“You feel embarrassed that you’re with me?”

“Yes,” you gritted at your teeth, the lace of your gloves digging into your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to rip it off, the material a silent reminder of the requirement that must be met to fool the crowd. “You’re a prince and I am—”

“I thought we already established titles mean nothing when we both mutually benefit from one another,” he cut you off, hands coming up to caress at your cheeks. You immediately froze at his touch, the iciness behind those eyes doing nothing to soothe you until he spoke, the Prince’s words oddly gentle and warm like the sun that shone down on you that fine day. “Worry not about that. I do not care what people think of you. All I care is that you do well and I shall do my part gracefully in return,” he declared for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Back then, you never believed that people had power just because they were born with it. Power had to be manifested, trained, earned – yet Prince Satoru wielded it with his lips so effortlessly that in that moment, you believed magic really wasn’t a myth.

“Kiss me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Everyone is looking,” his eyes darted over the on looking crowd, his bare hand still caressing your warm cheeks, hot enough that it put the sun to shame. “Lest you want this plan to fail, I suggest you kiss me, darling. Passionately.”

The Crown Prince was right. Everyone was looking.

Your body’s response was instantaneous. A hiss of a breath, muscles tensed and fingers curled into a fist at your side; you could feel bile rising from your throat out of panic.

Then Prince Satoru leaned forwards, eyes snapped shut and his lips colliding with yours. The single touch had all the tension flooding away as you kissed the Prince, his lips tasting of cinnamon and sugar, vanilla and spice wafting off of him delicately that you had to fist at the collar of his shirt to prevent yourself from gobbling him up whole.

He would find that rather displeasing, claiming that you had little to no table manners, so you forced yourself to relax as he breathed air into your mouth, large hands cradled around your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbled between kisses, the mere scent of royalty and forbidden elegance dripping off of him making you fearful to open your eyes. It felt illegal to touch the most wanted bachelor in your Kingdom this way, felt wrong to have his hands roaming down the slopes of your body while everyone looked at your shameless public display of faux romance. But if it was wrong, then why did he hold you so tenderly, not moving to push you away even as you nipped at his lips once more?

“You’re alright – I’ve got you.”

It was not easy being a no-name ballerina. You’ve crafted your skill for what seemed like your whole life, yet getting even a step closer to your dreams proved to be a daunting task. Even as your toes bruised and your muscles ached, pants heaved from your chest while you bended your body at will, you couldn’t stop thinking about how no one told you it was never easy to reach your dreams.

The fairytales had lied to you. They made it seem to easy to grab a star, never really explaining on how to be a star.

It felt so far away – the galaxy and universe you’d longer your entire life to be a part of – yet the Crown Prince stood at the corner of your studio, eyes dark as he watched you sway to the music.

A few weeks prior to your spontaneous arrangement, you were foolish enough to believe you could become that star easily. You were the lowest of ranks when it came to other girls; orphaned, no-named, broke, and loveless. 

Unlike your peers that were bred of the finest titles and fed with silver spoons, nannies and courts running after them in their growing years, you had to survive on scraps, taking three jobs at the young age of thirteen just to get into dance school and afford the fees.

You believed title or ranking shouldn’t have had to do anything with talent and worth, but then again, you were foolish beyond your years.

The moment you heard you were chosen to be the Black Swan of this season, allowing you to debut, you squealed behind your skirt, training day and night to the point you’ve skipped your meals just to perfect your routine.

That was until your classmates’ parents had come inside the school, twirling their moustaches behind soft fingers that had never known a day’s worth of work, belly round with cupcakes and all the delicacies only they were privileged enough to eat, the nervous laughter of your ballet master enough to let you know what it all meant.

Your classmate – the prettiest and the richest one – came rushing past you as she giggled over the announcement that she would be the Black Swan.

She was far many years younger than you, spoiled and with an attitude that tasted as bad as your leftovers, and definitely not skilled enough to debut – but of course, nothing was ever impossible enough with money, right? Before you could even defend yourself, your ballet master had cleaned out your quarters, your skirts and shoes thrown onto the muddy dirt while you cried under the rain, begging for another chance.

Second chances? You wanted to laugh.

Only people who did wrong should ask for it, and yet you sat there on your knees, hands clasped in a prayer that should only be reserved for wish bearers, desperate pleads of please don’t do this to me echoing into the empty night.

Was it fate then that the Crown Prince was half drunk inside his vehicle, shades slipping off his nose as he turned your way, your cries rudely interrupting the music blaring inside his car?

Perhaps it was – a cruel or a wonderful fate; no one could tell – the only thing that mattered now was that the Crown Prince had yet again found interest in a woman.

Only this time he didn’t lust after their body, wished nothing to do with their hands on his, completely sober around your presence as he watched you train endlessly in your studio, your sweat making your clothes stick like a second skin.

Prince Satoru leaned back against the walls then.

He should’ve brought a drink with him. Had he known that watching you dance sensually with such a blissed out expression he was mostly familiar with when he had his legs wrapped around another warm body would set his body alight, sober, then he would’ve left long ago.

Still, the Prince is rendered frozen at the edge, eyes trailing over your graceful form as you bended, legs flying out into the air while you arms dipped and curved into the most graceful of arcs and bows that put his combat figures into shame.

You weren’t even trying to seduce him and yet he was wholly captivated.

He wants to say that the woman he saw that rainy night and the woman stood before him now, figure bathed in the small slivers of sunlight that peeked through the blinds and stockings hugging each and every curve and dip of your body were entirely two different people, but the longer he looked, there was no mistaking it was still the same person. The passion burned through your eyes, the soft melodious tunes of the music guiding you – or rather you guiding the beat before you fluttered to another.

Prince Satoru smiled.

It first came off as a joke that he wanted to know more about you – his pretend lover – because everyone knew the Crown Prince was too frivolous to ever settle down and find interest in a woman beyond her looks. The confused pout you gave him as he followed you inside your studio burned at the back of his brain, a silent warning that you were different; that you were not someone he could touch lest he wished to burn and break you, though that would be a lie, it seemed.

For every strong ripple of your muscles and flowy movement of your body as you completely delved into the space of your own home and comfort, the Prince knew – you were not someone he could crush into the palm of his hands.

He came here out of boredom.

He left the studio with a confused heart, cheeks resting on his palm as he asked his chauffer, when is the next show?

The birds chirped above you, your fingers stretched out as you peeked from under it, lips pressed into a flat line. You were in the royal garden after persistent invitation from the Crown Prince himself. Speaking of, said Crown Prince had his limbs sprawled out beneath you, the edges of his hands slightly playing with the frills of your dress as he took his afternoon nap, a youthful smile on his face.

“Your Highness,” you huffed out, “What are we doing here? No one is looking. There is no need for us to continue our act.”

“I know,” he cheered a little too brightly for someone that looked to be deep in dreamland, “I just wanted to hang out with you without worrying about others. Not that I ever did, but it’s nice to be alone with you every once in a while. The prying eyes can get a bit too much.”

You hummed at the thought; he did have a point. This arrangement turned out to be a lot smoother than expected. The Crown Prince wasn’t lying about his intentions and not once had he laid a hand on you – without your permission, anyway – and he turned out to be…a lot more docile and easy going than what you originally thought of him. Not that you had much thoughts to begin with anyway, the Prince was a celebrity and therefore not someone that concerned you.

In your mind, he was merely your leader, more often than a not a name spoken between hushed whispers and dreamy moans.

This side of him was different, and all the time you’d spent him with was filled with nothing but ridiculed stares and taunts. The Crown Prince was a hilarious man who never feared trying out new things, always happy and eager to try exotic foods with you in the night markets or joining you in your spontaneous dancing during midnight ‘dates.’

He was the closest you could consider as a friend, and you relaxed against him, laying down on the flowery fields right next to him as you sighed in content. “I will miss this, Your Highness.”

“Miss what?”

“You and I – hanging out,” you mumbled a little dreamily, “I have a strong feeling things will finally get better for me. When I get scouted by a better company, I won’t be able to hang out with you anymore,” Silence befell the both upon you, the rustling of the wind against the flowers sounding like a far off memory. Soon, it would be. “I will miss this.”

“You could always call me. Or who knows, maybe I’d even drop by to watch your performances sometime.”

You snapped your eyes open, chuckling when the Prince had now sat up halfway, his regal face cradled in his hands while his elbow laid flat under him. He blinked innocently at you, and that’s when you realized – he was serious. That had you bursting into laughter, hands clutched at your stomach. “Please, you? You do not even enjoy ballerina!”

“I enjoy watching you,” he confessed in a heartbeat, his gaze falling from your crinkled eyes and all the way down to the silhouette of your body. “There’s something about the way you move that’s just so graceful and...phenomenal.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his heated gaze, the mere trails of his sight enough to warm your entire skin despite the cool wind. This was the Prince concerned though, and you had to guard your heart, eyes narrowed playfully at him while you desperately ignored the need to rub your thighs together.

“Are you flirting with me, Your Highness?”

The Prince snorted, “Flirt with you? My pretend girlfriend?” he clutched a hand at his chest as if the assumption offended him, “What makes you come to that conclusion?”

You chucked your handkerchief at him, still a little in disbelief that you were greeted by his laughter when it hit him right in the face.

You would miss this indeed.

Your gaze softened as you sat up, thighs pressed to your chest as you directed your gaze up in the sky. Prince Satoru may not always be around when the time came, but at least you still had the sky to remind you of this brazen and unexpected friendship that helped you grow.

“Thank you, though,” you squished your cheeks onto your knees, a lilted smile plastered on your face. “Dancing has always been a passion of mine. I can’t ever imagine a time of my life where I wasn’t moving with music. It almost feels as if I was destined with it; it speaks to me and deeper than the recesses of my bones, guides me until I’m one and entangled with it,” you ended with a dreamy sigh, turning your head to the side to look His Highness in the eye, stilling for a moment when you’re met with his solemn gaze.

Your throat parched dry. “Have you ever fallen in love with something like that before?”

“I don’t think so,” one of his shoulders lifted up in a lame shrug, voice turning deep and husky as he asked, “How do you know when you lack something or not?”

“If it comes to love...” you tapped your chin with a finger, “I think a life lived without one would feel quite empty. Hollow, I would say, and the skies would just be a plain blue instead of a calming yet mesmerizing one,” the courage that soared within you was an unexpected one, but it was enough to let you look him in the eye, form vulnerable and words slipping past your lips before you could control them. “If I were incapable of love, I’d say your eyes are nothing but gleams of sapphire.”

“And if you were capable of it? What would my eyes be?”

“Like cerulean galaxies crashing against one another,” you whispered, “Stardust sprinkled and heavens birthed out of passion and the desire to be something more. You’d be azure and brazen instead of crestfallen; the magnificence of the universe’s creation attesting to itself that it is wholly capable of designing divine beings.”

“Hmm,” he tipped his head to the side as he mulled over your words. His jacket was discarded somewhere along the grass, top three buttons of his shirt left opened and hair rustling with the wind. Beautiful, the image etched into your skin. “Are you sure you are a dancer and not a poet?”

“People say all sorts of beautiful things when they’re in love.”

The Prince straightened up, lips pursed. For a moment, you grew fearful, your heart frantically thumping in your chest as you thought, this is it – this is when he pushes you away. He does nothing of this as he scoots closer to you, using his rough thumb to tilt your chin until you were looking up at him, wide eyes sparkling – the sight of you vulnerable like this making the Crown Prince lick his lips.

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?” You shivered as his thumb moved up to graze at your bottom lip, almost prompting it to jut out, to which you happily complied with a shaky breath. “What would you say then?”

“Your name.”

The Prince smiled to himself at your hearty answer. To hide both of your nervous chuckles, the Prince took it upon himself to ease both your worries as he kissed you, nothing but the warmth and fluttering of butterflies rampaging in your stomach mixing at his sweet taste.

Beautiful, you hummed into his mouth. You could fall for as long as you wanted, but would the Prince ever fall from grace as he moaned into your mouth, tugging you until you were situated in his lap, arms wrapped tight enough around you in refusal to let you go? Maybe, your mind sighed, hands tugging at his hair when the Prince kissed you fervently, murmuring one word that made you melt right then and there.

Beautiful, he finds you.

Both your loud laughter echoed in his training grounds, the horses’ hooves padding against the firm earth. “Not fast enough, my Lady,” he taunts, his smile bright and wide as he sat perched atop his white stallion. “How would you catch my heart if you cannot ride faster?”

“I will catch up to you, just wait and see! Not everyone grew up riding horses, you know?”

“I bet a fine coin you do ride well, though, my Lady,” he remarked with a wink, his statement enough to tap the sides of your feet harder against your horse to catch after him.

“Your Highness!”

As you two chased around each other the wide field, carefree laughter and clothes swaying against the wind, skin warm from the flush of the sun, the Crown Prince’s servants stood at the side.

A particular woman – the servant that had been loyal long before the Prince was born – remained under a parasol, her wrinkled face tight with a frown.

“How nauseating,” she scrunched her nose, arms crossed on her chest. “To think I dedicated my life into raising the little prince to be a fine king someday, and his future would be tainted by a lowly performer who cannot even make a name for herself,” turning to one of the young boy servants, she narrowed her eyes at you. “Where does she work again? Is she of name?”

“She is an orphan, Madam, taken in at a young age in a dance school before she had to pay the fees herself, if the rumors are correct. I heard that she and His Highness met when she was kicked out by her own ballet master due to her stealing the original Black Swan spot for this season’s show.”

His old nanny’s face grew more gruesome. “Wasn’t the Black Swan supposed to be one of the Earl’s daughters?”

“Yes. Rumours had it that His Highness’ new plaything seized the spot to prove herself. Look at how that plan backfired.”

“How repulsive,” she spat out, venom laced in her tongue.

The roles had reversed, the Crown Prince insistent in catching you this time around, and you rode after him with panicked laughter, hands clutched tight on the reins. Although you’d only swished past the small group of servants that always seemed to be around, you’d heard enough.

“We must protect His Highness at all costs before this wretched woman rips his future away from him. The fate of the kingdom lies on his shoulders; we cannot afford him making mistakes.”

“Indeed, Madam.”

You stopped in your tracks until the horse slowed down with confused huffs, your Prince following behind you not long afterwards. Looking back at him again, you were no longer able to smile at him genuinely, not when discomfort, and most of all shame, had to be forced down deep into your system. Beautiful, you resigned, he was too beautiful.

His servants were right. Maybe you really were ruining everything for him. His reputation was frowned upon to begin with for his less than infamous sexual endeavors, that he was more often sighted in casinos and bars instead of his study room.

The barrack guards had grown tired and weary of trying to stop the Crown Prince from leaving the royal grounds. No matter what they did, he always found a way to escape.

The only difference this time around was that their Prince no longer frequented such sinful places and met with women of all titles and backgrounds. No, this time, the Prince leapt from the tall walls that had never been much of a challenge considering his tall frame, not bothering to get a car or even a horse as he dashed straight to your studio.

Sweat dripped down from your face as you slammed a fist on the floor, tears about to erupt. You couldn’t complete this routine that you were so close into perfecting.

Your mind was simply just in a mess.

There was a conflicting war inside you – one with your heart that yearned to stay longer in His Highness’ presence out of mere selfishness, and one with your mind that told you it was dishnoroubale to taint his name like this. The last thing you wanted was to destroy and push both of you even further into falling from grace; both reputations and name already tarnished.

You’d truly be heartless if you kept going on.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling comfortable with him, having found home in the Crown Prince’s warm arms and spontaneous kisses of all places.

Was it absurd? Undoubtedly so.

Could it be helped? You certainly could try.

And you’d been doing a great job so far; quite a daunting task you patted yourself in the back for. Avoiding the Prince when he’d made it clear he also enjoyed your company proved a lot harder than reaching your dreams, but you pushed through, locking yourself in the unused studio and training day and night.

It wasn’t working well – not on your part, anyway. You’d been here for hours, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your skin and your water bottles were all emptied.

You’d never felt this tired.

You fell on your knees, palms flat on the floor and sweat salty as it trailed down to your lips. With a groan, you untied your shoes off and stared at the bruised and blued toes, a witness to the countless years of hard work. Your lip quivered as you massaged the sore muscles, tears about to spill as you remembered the Prince.

Beautiful, he was, flawless and porcelain in each movement and breath.

But you? You were battered, scarred, broken and bruised – why would he want you of all people? It was clear he’s had multiple lovers before you. No, scratch that, you were never a lover to begin with. It was all a sham, an agreement formed out of lame survival. There was no beauty in a lie.

The music playing from your stereo kept repeating on loop, this time the tune no longer unrecognizable as your soft cries echoed around the studio. You weren’t beautiful – not enough for him, at least – everyone made that very clear to you.

Just as you wiped your tears away at the back of your hand, standing up to continue another set as you refused to come back home without completing one perfect routine, the doors slammed open. Heavy breathing entered afterwards and you scowled – you worked tooth and bone to claim this place as yours, who dared enter? “This studio is private—” your words fell dry on your skin when a tuft of white hair trudged over to you, his usual placid face replaced with a firm sneer. “Y-Your Highness?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

His voice was nothing but demanding, the authority behind them only natural and befitting for someone like him. Each step he took forwards equated to a step backward until your back hit the mirrors, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

Your voice came out weak. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t act like I’m stupid,” he pointed a finger at you, then scoffed, hands running through the soft locks of his air while he shook his head. You stood there grasping at your tights; having never seen the Prince lose his composure before. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to contact you, you never respond. When I ask your friends where you’ve been, they all tell me you’re busy practicing.”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice again, tone heavy and biting. “I am busy practicing, do you not see that?”

“It’s not the only thing you’re occupied with. Clearly, you are quite determined to stay away from me too,” he bellowed, his loud voice bouncing back from the emptiness of the room. The booming sound must’ve snapped him back to consciousness because Prince Satoru sighed, stepping closer until his warm hand cupped your cheek, starry blue eyes filled with worry and anguish. Had you caused this?

Beautiful, you frowned, that even in his demise he managed to look like fine art. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” he softened, breath warm on your lips. “If yes, then tell me and I’ll do everything it takes to make up for it.”

You fisted his shirt; cheek faced his way because you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. There was no way you’d let him see you cry.

“I don’t understand you, Your Highness,” you murmured, “You’re about to be King – why do you bother yourself with someone like me? I’m nothing compared to you, and I detest being compared to you for I am more than worthy despite not being born of a high ranking like yours.”

Prince Satoru froze. “Is this what this is about? My title bothers you?”

“We should stop whatever we’re doing,” was all you said, pushing him away as gently as you could, ignoring the gnawing pain that grew inside of you when your palms landed on his chest. “It is lowly of me to take advantage of the Crown Prince’s kindness anyway. My success should be paved out of my own hard work and not because of my lame connections to the Crown Prince.”

“Lame connections? Is that all I am to you?”

“You are my Crown Prince, Your Highness,” you reminded him of the stark difference firmly, “You mean a lot to your people, but I do not mean anything to you. I am just another nameless performer lost in the crowd of a thousand other girls who wish to reach their dreams, even if such a star is far beyond our reach,” Tears had now fallen until they formed into crystals on your cheeks, and he blinked back, unsure of what to do. “Could you ever understand what that feels like? To yearn for something you know you could never have but hope for anyway?”

“It would be a lie if I said I did,” he admitted quietly, “But I think I’m beginning to understand. It would make sense to me now – if you keep pushing me away, that is.”

You shook your head begrudgingly. “Your Highness...we shouldn’t.”

“And why not? Who said we couldn’t?”

You don’t stop him this time when he stepped closer once more, trapping you between his arms until you clutched desperately at his shirt, his erratic heartbeat pulsing under your touch. “It’s just you and I – neither a prince nor a performer – simply man and woman who crave each other’s touch. What could be so wrong into giving into one’s desires?” you gasped when his lips fell at the juncture of your neck, your head immediately tilting to the side as you allowed him to ravage you. “You still haven’t given me the chance to let you know what I feel,” he cradled your jaw, caressing your skin as he breathed you’re your ear, voice low and sultry, begging even, “Would you really deny me the pleasure of showing you how beautiful you are to me right now?”

“Satoru,” you keened at his teeth tugging at your skin, fists clenched on shirt. “Touch me.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, darling.”

Satoru swept down to capture your lips in his, his grip firm on the swell of your ass he kept you close to him, pressed hip to hip and his hardened front grazing your core through the tights. He pulled a moan from you as he flipped your body over, lips finding home in your neck while his large hand cupped your breast, the other trailing down to finger at your clothed, damp pussy.

In this angle, you could see the despondent way you easily spread your legs for him, your pants like music to ears.

“Do you still not believe me when I say you are worth more than a pound of gold? Look at you – your dripping cunt shines harder than the diamonds I keep in my room,” the both of you groaned when he pushed a finger through your hole, your tights stretching and sucked in by your walls enough to outline the arousal that seeped through. “Maybe I should keep you instead, hmm, don’t you think? You’d be a far grander treasure than all those riches.”

“I am a woman,” you tugged at his hair, panting heavily as he kept fingering into you, his thumb grazing at the sensitive bundle of nerves that swelled under your tight clothes. “I am not to be reduced to a possession you acquire.”

“No, of course not. Nothing could ever replace you in this world,” he growled, harsh in his movements as he tore your clothes with minimal effort.

You yelped when your precious tights had been ripped to the sides, a hole revealing your core and your breasts barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Satoru shuffled his pants down before placing you right on his cock, swallowing your moans with each inch of his length that slid inside you.

Hands dug painfully into his hair, Satoru hissed at the pain, grinning to himself at how wet you were through just light touches and a sloppy kiss. You’ve been good for him, though, you were always good for him that he had to reward you, show you how beautiful you were, and he spread his legs apart, relishing in the sight of you being fucked onto his cock.

“Nothing feels better than your tight pussy, huh? Take a good look at yourself, you’re so fucking precious, taking me so well,” you could only moan in response, unable to take your eyes off the way his length disappeared inside you, a shiver chilling your spine when he grasped at your breasts, nipples tweaked between his fingers. “Nothing, nothing, nothing could compare to this. You feel like heaven, taste like bliss and forgiveness,” he licked at the salty sweat that drowned your body, one of his hands now rolling your clit between his fingers. You screamed, bouncing yourself harder on him with your nails dug deep into his thighs. “You will be the redemption of my darkened soul, are you not?”

“Maybe I will be,” you cried out, head lolled onto his shoulder.

Satoru hummed, his eyes dark and coated with lust when your breasts bounced in front of the mirror. Thanks to years of dancing, you barely felt a stretch when Satoru suddenly lifted your legs up until your thighs were embarrassingly squished against your chest. You knew why he did this; it wasn’t that hard to understand why when he narrowed his focus on the way your juices slipped down his cock, the sounds of your pussy squelching drowning out the operatic music.

Satoru kissed your cheeks to wipe your previous tears away, his hands nothing but grabby and possessive as he gripped the flesh of your thigh. “You already are, sweet thing.”

Pleasure had completely taken over you at this point, that familiar heat building up in your stomach until it snapped into two. Pupils blown wide open, you gasped as you came all over him, your cum creaming down onto his cock until it lined with a thick ring of cum.

It was filthy to say the least, and your body burned at the thought that you were disrespecting him, defiling him with the mess you’ve made. But the Prince only fucked into you harder, his teeth grazing at your already abused skin with relentless and merciless thrusts. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d show you how beautiful he found you, going hell and beyond because you felt nothing but worshipped when he kissed you feverishly, his moans romantic as he came. “S-Satoru!”

“That’s right,” he slipped a finger, the stretch adding a slight tinge of pain that had your hips rutting out in sensitivity, your hole clenching around his everything. “Cum for me. Come on, I know you can do it for me. You’re so good, sweetheart, come for me.”

You were mindlessly babbling his name as both of you came down from your highs. Satoru doesn’t stop once from running hands everywhere, gripping your hips, flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, and running a finger down your slit to wipe your juices everywhere. It had become too much that you had to push his hand away, legs locking around his arms that refused to stop cupping your pussy.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he cooed, shameless and teasing when he brought his hands up to your face, fingers stretched to show the webbing of your arousal between them. “We made such a mess,” he chuckled, his kisses a lot softer now on your neck.

Beautiful, you whimpered internally as you fluttered around nothing.

Satoru must’ve grown an addiction to kissing your lips for he dived in one last time, murmuring the word you always tied him with until they felt printed, tattooed, on your skin. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in this, your kisses slow and sensual as you both enjoyed this serene moment.

He came to this studio to prove you something.

He left the studio with a swelling heart, cheeks resting on your breast as he wrapped his arms around you in the comfort of your worn-out mattress as he asked, can I stay here longer with you?

The cheers and applause directed your way were deafening, the spotlight blinding as you bowed. You gasped for air, every muscle in your body screaming both with delight and exhaustion.

You could barely fathom the crowd hidden in darkness before you, the sight like a black sea, but instead of feeling like you were drowning, you don’t think you’d ever been able to breathe this well before. The smile on your face was bright – brighter than the star you’ve become and bigger than the galaxy and universe you’ve made for yourself – and you waved your arm gracefully, toes pointed outwards while the roses and flowers thrown your way came flooding like a waterfall.

You’d made it.

And through the crowd, at the back where someone the likes of him wasn’t supposed to be, His Majesty’s white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. His draperies were replaced with finer ornaments of gold embroidery, those large hands that had grown accustomed to holding yours and marking handprints on your delicate skin covered with gloves as he applauded, following the crowd from where they all stood.

Your smile directed him was nothing less of a beam, the stars he’d hung for you reflecting back in your eyes. Tears blurred the vision of him for a moment until you saw him again – crystal clear – his expression both proud and longing.

The memory of you and him had been a beautiful one, but it was distant and with each passing day, it blurred until it became nothing like swirls of I love you’s and good luck’s whispered onto one another’s skin. Your heart still soared and broke each time at the sight of him, the majestic Queen hanging off the arm that was locked with yours just years ago a painful reminder that there would always be an invisible divide between you and the Prince you’d fallen in love with.

There was no regret, however, in where things had led. You knew he loved his kind wife as much as he loved you, and he knew you loved him as much as you loved your career, and things were simply just…meant to be this way, you concluded.

It was never supposed to be a great love story that told of breaking traditions. Not all stories were meant to go against the odds; some were told to show that people could be capable of change without having to change anything. You were thankful, still so extremely grateful you met your beloved Prince even as he left the theatre before people crowded around him, leaving you to your devices until you retired back into the changing room, a set of rare flowers only a certain person could afford.

Beautiful, you cried as you picked up the card, his once messy scrawls improved into a neater cursive befitting for the new King.

And so it was that you parted ways, with him leading his country into further prosperity while you moved away and stole people’s hearts with each phenomenal show, one after the other.

Your summer rendezvous with the Prince was not meant to be a love story that went against all odds; you were there to save each other from reaching damnation, loving one another as passionately as your souls were able to until you picked each other back up.

Once the other stood firm, tall, and ready to take on the world with their bare hands, you pushed one another in your respective directions.

Beautiful, you smiled as you clutched at his present close to your heart where he’d built a garden out of itself, that we’d saved each other from falling from grace.

[stray-kids-react]

They try to teach you how to dance

Masterlist

Some are crack some are fluff.

...

Bang Chan

° You were very clumsy, but still determined to look just as amazing as Chan did during the last performance they did on Kingdom. Specifically at the beginning when he is held upside down and made his way to the floor smoothly.

° You kept falling flat on your stomach each time Chan tried to lower you down, you'd get scared at the feeling of no control and end up kicking Chan which led to him losing grip on you. He'd get worried after your third fall, and somewhat beg you to stop.

° You were determined to look as badass as he did, and even convinced Felix to help you out since Chan was too scared of hurting you. Your boyfriend watched as you and Felix both managed to fall to the floor while creating a hole in the practice room wall.

"I think I'll take a break for now."

"I'm sure you'll get it love, we'll just get some safety mats next time."

Lee Know

° Minho is very sweet towards you, he'll still tease you but over all everyone can tell how much of an effect you put on him. Being the main dancer though, it was intimidating dancing next to your very talented boyfriend. And he notices your stiffness.

° That is why he was showing you the Miroh dance step by step, insisting that he'll teach you. Minho didn't want you to become awkward around him at any point, and so when he saw you begin to stiffen whenever you danced. He stepped in immediately.

° You thought it would be sweaty and frustrating, but it ended up being very fun and sweet. Whenever you got a move right he'd reward you with a kiss, and he'd be close behind you throughout it all. Guiding your movements with his hands as he reassured you in a soft voice.

"Good work bun bun. Do you need a break?"

"Can I still get more kisses on break?"

Changbin

° You were an upcoming model in Korea, constantly praised for your look but some critiquing you after a viral video of you. The video was of you at an award show dancing, you looked like a dying chicken when you attempted to dance and everyone knew it.

° You wanted to be taken more seriously, and decided to ask your boyfriend to teach you Get Cool. Changbin knew why you asked him to do this, and didn't hesitate since he's seen companies decline you after the video went viral all over social media.

° You were still slightly wobbly and stiff, but you were able to get the basics down. Once you were confident enough, you went live on Instagram to show your hard work. Changbin reading the comments out loud from behind the camera.

"Wow the chicken has turned into a Phoenix."

"*Laughs* stop, I'm gonna lose my rhythm."

Hyunjin

° You were out partying with Hyunjin, Jisung and Jisung's Girlfriend. The spotlight seemed to focus on you as your tipsy induced brain convinced you to dance your heart out. The crowd around you beginning to cheer you on.

° Hyunjin recorded you as you began to recreate double knot, missing a few steps but still looking amazing nonetheless. He was enjoying the show you were putting on, until a random man tried to dance up behind you. Attempting to grind against you.

° Without a second thought, he pulled you out from the spotlight and tucked you infront of him. Shielding you away from anyone interested, it was getting late anyways and he would've pulled you away a couple minutes later if it weren't for the man.

"Did I do good Jinnie? ~"

"You are always fantastic angel."

Han

° You were rehearsing your stage before the main event, the weather was drizzling which led to a slippery stage. You thought it wouldn't effect you much, that is until you hit the dance break. Where shaking your hips turned into falling on them.

° Jisung felt bad he truly did, but your frustrated sighs and curses always amused him. Especially when you were wearing a mic where everyone could hear you, he'd laugh but always help you back onto the stage nonetheless.

° Jisung went through the steps with you. Making sure the rain wasn't the only problem, afterwards you soon realized you were taking to many large steps which led to the slipping. You were thankful he helped you go through the steps, even if you still fell.

"Why are you laughing ~"

"Because everyone can hear you swearing."

Felix

° You wanted to learn back door and surprise your boyfriend with your new talent, the only problem was... You couldn't get the steps right. This frustrated you immensely, wanting to impress Felix just as much as he always impresses you with his talent.

° Felix got you some cinnamon rolls from your favorite bakery, he walked by the store and decided why not. That's when he noticed you looking sulky on your couch, he sat next to you gently. Waving the scent of your favorite treat near your face.

° Felix asked what was wrong, and tried his absolute hardest not to show off the brightest grin when you admitted to wanting to impress him. You always impressed him and he found it adorable how determined you were to learn the dance.

"C'mere lovely, I'm going to show you the dance."

"Can I finish my cinnamon roll first Lixie?"

Seungmin

° You had a crazy side to you, a side only few got to see and this people who saw it were only the ones closest to you. Seungmin had the pleasure of seeing this wonderful side of you, watching you make a fool out of yourself for his entertainment alone.

° Seungmin came home from a hard day of rehearsal, JYP critiquing the group rather harshly even though he couldn't do half the stuff they could (all tea all shade☕) he felt his spirit crack a bit from the hurtful words. Wanting nothing more than your company.

° You found out the song was All In, the one JYP had somewhat of a say on what happens in the song. You decided to recreate JYP's dances in front of Seungmin to cheer him up, purposely making them look more sloppy than they actually were.

"Join me Seungmin!"

"No *gasping for breath* you're too much sometimes. Laughs"

Jeongin

° You out the Self in self-conscious, meaning you were a very introverted and anxious person naturally. It took over a year for you to warm up to your boyfriend Jeongin, but he was patient with you and got the best reward by having you by his side.

° This is why he was so shocked when you asked him to show you the side effects dance, since you've never really mentioned an interest of any type of dancing. Not even dancing at a party or simply bopping out in the car. But he wasn't going to waste the rare opportunity.

° Before you could second guess yourself, he pulled you to the dance studio. Hooking the song in the speakers, he stepped in front of you so you couldn't see the mirror. Knowing you would want to back out once you saw yourself. He wanted to make you feel safe.

"Maybe I should try this another time."

"But I want to hold you for a bit longer."

[architectuul]

Othernity

Interview with Dániel Kovács, the curator of the official exhibition of the Hungarian Pavilion at the 17. International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia.

Interior of the Calvinist church of Külső-Kelenföld, Budapest (1981) by István Szabó. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (20209

“In Central and Eastern Europe, modernist post-war buildings - relics of socialist modernism - are in an increasingly threatened position. Their situation in Hungary is becoming more and more politicized: seen as remnants of the communist past, they have no future, and are demolished or refurbished. The architectural heritage of a whole generation is getting lost,” starts the curatorial statement of the team behind this year's Hungarian Pavilion at the Venice Architecture Biennale. Dániel Kovács, the curator of the pavilion explains that “to this day, theory and practice of our modernist forebears is an important intellectual ammunition for architects, but more importantly, these buildings were once the backdrop of our everyday lives, and they are still objects of personal attachments and memories. Instead of erasing them out of our memory, we should finally come to terms with our past.”

“Othernity – Reconditing Our Modern Heritage”, interior of the exhibition at the Hungarian Pavilion of the 17th International Architecture Exhibition in Venice.| Photo Dániel Dömölky (2021)

The Hungarian project exhibited in this year, titled “Othernity – Reconditioning Our Modern Heritage” tries to look for possible answers. On this occasion the curatorial team of architecture historian Dániel Kovács and architects Attila Róbert Csóka, Szabolcs Molnár and Dávid Smiló invited 12 architectural practices from nine countries of the region with a mission to outline the future of 12 selected modern buildings in Budapest. “They offer different approaches and perspectives, but the collective results make one point clear: in a sustainable and responsible way, our future can only be built on our past,” concludes Kovács. The pavilion features A-A Collective (Poland / Denmark / Switzerland), Architecture Uncomfortable Workshop (Hungary), b210 (Estonia), BUDCUD (Poland), KONNTRA (Slovenia / North-Macedonia / Croatia), LLRRLLRR (Estonia / United Kingdom), MADA (Serbia), MNPL Workshop (Ukraine), Paradigma Ariadné (Hungary), PLURAL (Slovakia), Vojtěch Rada (Czech Republic) and Studio Act (Romania).

---

In the curatorial statement you are pointing to overcoming the aforementioned neurosis of Eastern and Central European people within sharing the collective optimism phrased by participants; is that the Othernity? Dániel Kovács: The identity of this region, Eastern Europe, is an unnatural, political one, created by the invading superpower after WW2. They got stuck, Western media started to use it, but became filled with negative connotations. If you think about Eastern Europe, you associate it with slightly uncultured, tribal people, physical workers, and nonintellectuals. In the early 1990s we actually tried to change these connotations and come up with the concept of Central Europe, based on the German concept of Mitteleuropa. But it turned out that nobody was interested in this. We remained Eastern Europeans. Today there is an attempt to re-appropriate this term by our generation, the ones who grew up after the change of the regime. We are trying to fill this with new meanings.

LLRRLLRR: Stars, Dead Bodies and Other Forms That Do Not Change - installation. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

So in this sense the neurosis is the feeling that our identity was imposed on us from the outside and what we are trying to do with Othernity, an architectural attempt, is to fill it with a certain kind of optimism. The expression of collective optimism came up in our first personal meeting with the participating architects in November 2019. The first time, when we sat down together with architects from 9 different countries in the region, we realized that it is so easy to understand and talk to each other because we share the same backgrounds, the same historical and social experiences. That leads us to define this feeling, this atmosphere as collective optimism that can replace the present neurosis.

Othernity is also a very provocative name, how is your statement accepted by the culture politics in Hungary? DK: Obviously the whole concept came from a recent problem, modernist buildings are being demolished not only in Hungary but basically everywhere. In this region there is a certain factor that contributes to this process of demolitions and that is the political aspect. Buildings from this period in the region are seen more as relics of this communist past. But everything is over politicised in Hungary, because this is what populist politics do, they overpolitisise every aspect of life. As a gay man I’m laughing all the time when it comes up that I “should keep my private life in my bedroom”. I would like to do it but it is impossible because my bedroom is full of politicians who are trying to control my private life. On the other hand however this is a very clever tool by populist politics, that politicizes everything and forces people to be either indifferent or take up a political point of view.

KONNTRA: Mo·nu·ments - installation | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

What about the Hungarian media? DK: Unfortunately, the media also takes over this tool from politics. Not only Hungarian but also Western media shows news from Hungary in a strictly political point of view. We are always represented as people in connection with politics and nobody does anything to change this point of view. This is a problem that works against an united Europe. Most of the people from this region don’t feel as part of the united Europe because we are always represented as different. Actually this debate and this situation is very similar to the debate about colonialism and to the representation of African and Asian people. But nobody understands that the same is happening with us Eastern-Europeans. We are represented in a way that we don’t identify with. And we can not do anything about it.

In which sense? DK: Whenever I am reading English press it is very funny to see how keen they are to use certain foreign language expressions, like for example taoiseach, the name of the prime minister of Ireland or certain expressions from the Maori language in New Zealand. On the other hand whenever they are writing down the name of anybody coming from Eastern Europe, they never use the proper accents and punctuation. Nobody is using the both two accents in my name, as they think it is not necessary. But that is not my name, I want my name back. What the Othernity project is about is that we would like to re-appropriate our identity to fill it with a meaning, which is defined by us. And believe me there is nothing political about it.

To answer your previous question shortly, surprisingly we have no political reactions coming from cultural politics. Obviously the concept was debated in Hungary, but it wasn’t politicised as much as I expected to be.        

MADA: 1.250.000 m³ - installation | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

Can the Othernity be perceptive as an utopia that generates new collective ways of living in the region? DK: I would hope so, obviously, but I don’t expect us to save the world. What I expect and what I am working on is to create discussion. To open up people’s minds, either Hungarians, people from the region or people from other parts of the world. To help them understand these problems and recognize their own problems, reflected by ours. In this sense Othernity is a bigger success than we expected because many people in Venice from different parts of the world came to the curatorial team and examined the problem, discussed its origins and questions engaged in lively discussion. This was great feedback, which we really didn’t expect. So many people would recognise their question and problems in this quite specific attempt.     

Participants and curatorial team of the Othernity project. | Photo József Rosta, Ludwig Museum – Museum of Contemporary Art (2019)

What were the criteria for the selection of twelve practices from the region and how did the process of collaboration run? DK: First we have chosen the twelve buildings in Budapest and then we researched in our networks for international partners. This was way before the competition because in Hungary the biennial curatorialship is decided by an open competition. When we won our curatorial enrollment we already had everything finished, we even had the first ideas from the architects. This was six months of work before the deadline. As I mentioned we wanted to reach out to those who are in their twenties, thirties, early forties and who grew up and were educated after 1989. They are already citizens of Europe and they identify as Europeans but share the same experiences and architectural heritage. By this they would understand what these buildings in Budapest could mean and could represent for Hungarians and yet they have an objective distance. The original idea was to represent both sides of the story, with the historical aspect, buildings with their documents and the archive materials in one hall of the exhibition building in Venice and on the other hand, the proposals, the twelve new ideas. This created a mirroring structure, which we manage to keep throughout all the exhibition and even the catalogue. 

How is modernist architecture accepted by the current Hungarian government? DK: There is no general view on that. It is true that of the twelve buildings we have chosen, two have been demolished in the past year and one of them was demolished by the government. Another building is currently being considered to be demolished by an independent institution with governmental funds. When I approached them to ask about why this building is being demolished they answered that it is a brutalist building and it was the headquarters of the workers militia, a very communist organization. These kinds of arguments do come back again and again in these discussions, especially if you look in the context of the ongoing reconstruction of the Buda castle. I don’t debate the decision of the government, which is to reconstruct the castle in the pre-war state, against the current state built in the 1950s, 60s and the 70s. There is a certain kind of nostalgia from the part of politics towards the pre-war era and certain kind of hatred towards the post-war era.    

Maybe also ignorance and prejudices? DK: That’s the reason I wouldn’t try to point fingers on responsible parties. This is also a responsibility of the architectural community of the architectural historian community, because we were not able to develop canons, we were not able to come up with what’s good and what’s not good regarding modernism. Behind this inability to say anything out loud is again a general feeling of uneasiness and uncertainty, which is nowaday present in every aspect of our lives. Who is to say that one building is good? Who is to say that we should keep this building instead of the other? There is no hierarchy anymore. What Othernity is trying is to figure out how to keep discussing this topic. To show that architects do have the creative thinking necessary to solve these problems. I think these twelve different approaches in the pavillon really prove that young architects are capable to come up with ideas that can push forward certain problems.

Do you think that architecture and culture fight can change political borders and create new identities in the geopolitical space of Eastern Europe? DK: This could happen everywhere, not only in Easten Europe, but I wouldn’t use the term fight. I think these  are tools to use. It Is not a coincidence that we came up with the expression reconditioning, because it's a psychological expression and not used in architecture. If we want to change these situations, we need to change our ways of thinking. For that we need to recognise, realise certain very basic problems such as overpolitisizing architecture, dealing with the constructing identity, recognising our neighbours and start to talk to them. If we are able to do that we can change what's happening and we can affect what’s happening in architecture and culture but only if we are able to recognize these things.  

The curatorial team of the Othernity project: Attila Róbert Csóka, Szabolcs Molnár, Dávid Smiló and Dániel Kovács. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2021)

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The Othernity is a new, collaboration-based method, which helps us rethink our practice of heritage protection and, at the same time, it is such an architectural behaviour that can create a more responsible attitude towards profession and society. The Hungarian Pavilion is looking for an answer to the following question: what possibilities does the often disputed and in many ways obsolete heritage of modern architecture hold for the architects of the future?

The curatorial team asked 12 architecture practices from Central and Eastern Europe to recondition 12 iconic modern buildings of Budapest, offering a possible way to reconcile past and future architecture.The selected buildings of Budapest were built during the socialist regime, and in spite of their values, they are in danger today. The invited architects from Central and Eastern Europe know and understand the dilemmas concerning the conservation of the regional architectural heritage, however, they already studied and gained professional experience in the united Europe and one the characteristics of their projects is the experimental attitude pointing towards an international direction, which is accompanied by a fresh visual form of expression.

The exhibition is divided into two spaces: the LAB section documents the historical conditions of the 12 buildings, while the SHOWROOM section presents the 12 contemporary architectural reflections. Othernity is the first exhibition project in the history of the Hungarian Pavilion based on wide-ranging international collaboration. At the same time it is a collaborative practice, research on heritage protection and the expression of our conviction that the architecture of the future can be built on the past in order to reach due resilience, adequate sustainability and strong identity bonds.

[carnationdoe]

Talking about you (Hyung line)

Just to make it clear, this --> «Korean» means that they are speaking korean and when using “English” they are speaking English

Kim Seokjin ‘Jin’

“So, the last time we talked, you guys were at the billboard music award where you won Top social artist and top group, so first congratulation on that” Ellen announced, once the seven Korean guys had introduced themselves. “Thank you very much, Ellen” Namjoon said on behalf of the others and they all gave her a sincere smile. “But you – RM – also brought something up on the red carpet.”

“So…” Ellen started before being interrupted by the loud cheering from the audience once again. “I haven’t even said anything” – “are anyone of you dating someone?” Ellen continued, as the cheering from the audience died down.

All seven of them whined, as they all dreaded these kinds of questions. However, Jin couldn’t help but feel his face becoming hot and red and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.  “It looks like Jin has someone speciel in mind, yes?” mischievous smile curved up the corners of Ellen’s lips.

“What?” Jin asked with a thick accent, playing dumb. “Are you dating anyone at the moment, Jin?”. At that moment he knew that he had been caught red-handed which made his face flush even harder. 

“Just friends” Jin managed to say without too much stutter. Ellen smiled even bigger than before, not believing a word he said. “A friend you want to date?”  She emphasised the last four words, earning ‘oh’ and laughter from the audience. 

That was all it took to break down Jin’s walls down, before looking at Namjoon and saying; «We enjoy each others company». 

“He says that...” Namjoon began to translate after making sure that Jin knew what he was doing, “that they are friends who are enjoying each others company.” before he himself began adding a few facts so Jin wasn’t singled out. “We are actually all friends with each other and enjoy a movie night every now and then when we have time.”

The rest of the group were nodding once Namjoon finished talking, trying their best to make it more believable, even though it was true. But it seemed that Ellen didn’t quite believe them.

“But it seems as if,” she shifted in her seat, placing a hand under her chin as if to think, “Jin is enjoying her company more than the rest of you. Am I right?”

A smile had found its way to Jin's face before, the words slipped past his lips. «We’re... she laughs at my jokes and we cook together. What more to wish for.» and then he chuckled awkwardly and looked down at Namjoon who was shaking his head.

“Sorry, I’m not translating that” Namjoon announced before anyone could get the chance to ask.  

“Does it really make a difference, since it will be translated later on anyway?” Ellen protested, which simply made the seven boys smile. 

“Yeah, let's wait for that then.” Namjoon said with a chuckle, and the other six boys joined while Ellen let out a sigh. 

Min Yoongi ‘Suga’

You and Yoongi had been talking to each other for a few months and things were slowly developing into more than just friends. You were being a bit hesitant about officially calling it a relationship; because of how hectic Yoongi’s schedule was and you didn’t want to jump into that kind of relationship without being sure that that was what both of you wanted. 

Today was no different: Yoongi was in London, United Kingdom to perform at Wembley together with his six group members. He was sitting in the makeup chair having his makeup and hair done and as soon as he was finished, he jumped down the chair. 

He was walking around aimlessly backstage when his ears picked up on the frantic screaming from the audience on the other side of the black curtains.

He suddenly became nervous, and when Yoongi became nervous, he showed it through silence. He clenched and unclenched his fists, before walking away from the spot he had been standing and found an empty room.

“Yoongi?” He could hear the softness in your voice through the phone. He couldn’t help but smile. “Hello Y/N-ie” – “I’m sorry for calling.” He could almost hear you rolling your eyes as he apologised for waking you up. 

“mmm, don’t be. What do you need, love?” He knew that you wouldn’t let it go before he told the reason behind the call; “I don’t kn-… I’m nervous” He stuttered out the last three words. 

A light chuckle could be heard through the phone. “Yoongi, no matter what you do you do great and even if, if you made a mistake ARMY and I will still love and support you.” You said genuinely. 

“Thank you” He said shyly, before you ended your call with ‘goodbyes’ and kiss through the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” Jimin asked and a blush quickly found its way onto Yoongis face. Jimin couldn’t help but think that Yoongi looked genuinely happy.

 “Y/N” Yoongi said and shrugged as if it was nothing special, but Jimin looked right through it. 

“And who is this Y/N?” Jimin asked in a sly manner. It caught Yoongi by surprise; “I mean what is they to you?” Jimin continued.

“We need to go on stage” Yoongi tried to deflect the questions, but he didn’t succeed.

Jimin took hold of Yoongi’s arm; “Hyung, it wasn’t meant like that. You just seem so happy”

Yoongis characteristic gummy smile found its way on to his face, as he thought of you. It didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin.

“I’m happy Mochi... She makes me happy and calms me down when I need it the most”

Jung Hoseok ‘J-Hope’

Earlier that day you had received a text from your boyfriend, Hoseok, informing that he would be at the dance studio with the others; training for the next concert. It wasn’t as if it was anything new. He had been spending every single day at either the dance studio or the studio, so you hadn’t been seeing much of him these days.

It had become a habit of yours to enjoy the mornings by yourself in bed and later studying for your exams, but today were different. You had come up with the brilliant idea that you would be visiting Hoseok at lunch.

You were leaning up against the doorframe. Your eyes only focused on one of the dancing forms before you. He was in his element; it was easy to see. You hadn’t realized that the music had stopped and so had the people before you.

“Hey Y/N” The six other Korean boys yelled, as Hoseok walked towards you. He pulled you into a tight hug as he withdrew, he gave you a cheeky smile “Why are you here?”

“I missed you, Hobi” you stated and showed off the paper bag in your hand “I even brought pajeon. It should be good for you since you are training so hard and…”

Hoseok gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which made you stop rambling. “Sorry” you mumbled, embarrassed.

He simply chuckled and whispered a thank you to you. “Yeah, thank you Y/N” the six others said with big smiles on their faces as they began to eat.

“You need to marry her” Yoongi said with his mouth stuffed with the homemade pancakes you had brought to them. “Or else I might do it, cus this is amazing!” Jungkook continued where Yoongi had left.

“That’s not gonna happen, Jungkook” Hoseok gave him the ‘evil eye’ “Y/N isn’t into babies” Hoseok continued in a serious manner, but had a cheeky smile.

“She is into men” Hoseok stated. He couldn’t help but break into a little dance still with a cheeky smile plastered on his face; “A man like me-e-e-e!” he sang happily.

They all broke out in laughter and Hoseok joined them. 

Kim Namjoon ‘RM’

“Guys, I will answer ten questions and then I will go to bed. Our schedule tomorrow is packed, I have practice in the morning.” Namjoon gave the web camera a tired smile, trying not to yawn.  

“When will you run for President?” He busted out laughing as soon as he had read the question out loud “I heard about this from my friends. I want to change the standards of society, but it will be as an idol” He took in a breath before continuing in a more playful manner; “I’ll be the president for all army’s!”

He read through the comments and kept smiling. Quickly dismissing the comments which wasn’t questions, when he caught sight of your name being mentioned multiple times. He could feel his face heat up and he tried to cover it up with his hands – in a natural way. However, it didn’t do him any good, since the audience had already noticed his change in posture.

When he found a question, which didn’t include you in anyway, he let out a deep sigh. “When will you release the next album?” – “We are actually already working on it”

He was in the middle of replying a question, when you barged through the door singing out his name; “Namjoonie!”. It made him stop dead in his tracks for a few seconds – his cheeks flushing bright pink once again - before he turned around in the chair. He tried to cover you up with his body and the chair; blocking you from the camera.

You raised an eyebrow because of his reaction. “I’m live on Vlive” He explained. As soon as the words had left his mouth you realized what you had just done. 

“Oh shit…  I didn’t know… s-o-o-rr-y” You stuttered. You took a deep breath before rambling: “I thought you wanted company or something like that. Sorry… Eh, you know what, I will just… I will just go now. See ya”

You left the room before Namjoon could stop you. He turned back around and was faced towards the computer and the camera once again. 

He tried to pull of the ‘just-friend’-card with you, but he was easily to see through. The comment section was blowing up. Some comments were stating that he wasn’t being truthful, and others were commenting on how cute you were.

Namjoon couldn’t help but have a stupid lovestruck grin on his face as he read the compliments his fans gave you. 

“She is one of the most amazing persons I have ever meet” He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, but he had now opened up the pandora box.

“She understand me on a whole other level; she actually wants to understand what I’m doing” – “I will introduce her to you another day, but I will have to go now before she talks the ears off the others” Namjoon said with a dumbfounded chuckle and ended the livestream.

[doomedandstoned]

Iron Crown Bears Tales of Time ‘Before The Void’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

From the land of Acid King and High on Fire comes IRON CROWN, a trio of fellows who traffic in the mysteries of ancient days and forgotten realms, not to mention the realities of this present age. The doom metal outfit first grabbed my attention last year with the stunning album art of their extended-play, 'Iron Crown' (2018). Now they reveal more yet still in their first long-player, 'Before The Void' (2019).

His blackened axe will set the land on fire No longer human he will never tire Defend the realm, the eternal fight Against the tyrants he will wield his might

The album opens with "Watcher Of The Realm," which would make a great companion to the Clouds Taste Satanic instrumental epic, 'Your Doom Has Come' (2015). Iron Crown, of course, is a traditional band with chill vocals inheriting a certain "Dragonaut" coolness of fellow Californian, Al Cisneros. David Brunicardi's clean singing alternates with guttural death growls in the second-half of the song, creating a contrast that carries the narrative quite effectively.

The next three numbers are shorter, each with their own memorable moments. There are the fantastic scales at the two-minute mark in "Of Blood," the riffage in "Great Highway" that sounds like the continuing adventures of Black Sabbath's "Hole In The Sky" (with much darker consequences), and the joyous rhythmic romp of bassist DV Braun and drummer Don Hahn in "Dune Rider" -- perhaps the doom metal answer to Truckfighters' "Desert Cruiser." This being the shortest song of the album, it serves as a fitting introduction to the wicked little urban legend that follows, "The Clearing."

I know, what I know Live my own way On my own Never fit, in any mold This town will eat itself And pull you down below So watch it burn, watch it burn

The remaining trio of tracks delve deeper into the dankness, with some devilishly downtuned late-night rippers. "The Outsider" has a certain shoulder-shrugging nihilism about it, as society's reject expresses his rejection of the world in turn, wanting nothing more than to live on his own and "watch you burn." I can see this one being a cult favorite among doomers in the years to come, joining Electric Wizard's "We Hate You." This leads us into the album's namesake track, presented sans voix, which continues the forlorn tone of its predecessor and brings us, appropriately, into a coda: "Straight On Till Morning." It's a song about a showdown that lasts from dusk to dawn.

With that, I present the record to you to take a trip of your own. Look for its full release on Thursday, June 20th (pre-order here) and don't miss my interview with the band below!

Give ear...

Before The Void by Iron Crown

An Interview with Iron Crown

You guys dropped your eponymous debut smack dab in the middle of the summer of '18. I feel like it was such a ridiculously busy year for me, I didn't get a chance to know you properly. So let's start with some background on the band.

Iron Crown was formed in 2016 by two reunited high school friends who decided to "get the band back together." What started as occasional heavy riffing in guitarist David Brunicardi’s basement, quickly evolved into the formation of a hard-hitting stoner doom band. With drummer Don Hahn and former bassist Cardi Barsotti, the band recorded a five song, self-titled EP Iron Crown in 2017.

In 2018 Cardi moved on and the band brought on expatriated brit, DV Braun, as our bassist. With a new and heavier energy, we crafted eight new songs and booked time with the evil wizard Greg Wilkinson at revered Earhammer Studios in Oakland, California. Over a weekend in April 2019, the band recorded eight songs in a quasi-live setting for our first full-length album, Before The Void.

Sound wise, Mr. Wilkinson did a great job, as he always does in capturing this kind of sound.

In the studio, we knew we would be pressed for time because of work schedules, etcetera, so we laid down the foundation tracks live and then tried to nail any subsequent tracking in one take. We had worked with Greg before and things flowed pretty quickly. He’s really a master at what he does in the studio, as well as being an accomplished musician from his time in Brainoil and DeathGrave. He knew our sound and what we wanted to get across. Personally, we enjoyed the more live, immediate sound we went for on this album, one-take leads and all. (laughs)

Take us deeper into the music, if you will. What are the songs about?

The music for Before The Void extrapolates rock and metal riffs from an eclectic vault in Brunicardi’s head and reduces them over the fire into a united burnt offering. Lyrically, the songs cover a broad range of subject matter from mysticism, occult rituals, isolation and persecution.

The lead track, "Watcher Of The Realm," is about a young man who is chosen to undergo a metamorphosis to serve as the defender of a kingdom against various attacks. Really, it’s a metaphor for rock 'n' roll prevailing against the never ending fads in pop music.

"Of The Blood" is about a medieval female assailant dispatching tyrants and corrupt leaders. Beautiful, and black-winged, she brings death by night.

"Great Highway" is about the drag races that would occur every weekend near Ocean Beach in San Francisco, where Brunicardi and Hahn grew up. The area was pretty bleak and isolated from the rest of the city. We got away with a lot of reckless shit out there.

"Dune Rider" is an instrumental tribute to getting high in the no-man’s-land dunes behind their old school in the Outside Lands neighborhood.

"The Clearing" is about a couple who decide to go camping one weekend and stumble across a clearing in the woods where robed figures are conjuring up a demon girl and the pair consequently have to run for their lives.

"The Outsider" is about the isolation and seclusion one can feel even in familiar surroundings.

"Before The Void" is a hash and weed-filled instrumental track that should be twenty minutes long.

"Straight On Till Morning" is about a crew of men being pursued over the open ocean by an unnamed foe in a do-or-die situation.

Iron Crown by Iron Crown

Sounds like quite the adventure. Now I understand the same artist who did last year's 'Iron Crown' returned for 'Before The Void'?

Yes, the artwork for Before The Void, as well as their earlier EP, was created by the extremely talented Tuomas Valtanen at Dark Side Of Zen. We followed each other on Instagram and ultimately he and David became friends. We hit it off from the start. Tuomas is from Finland and his art spoke to the dark Nordic mythical themes we're inspired by in our music. For the album covers, we'd give him a very loose idea of concept and he would pull it all together and create this incredible package. His work is amazing.

Follow The Band

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[kiinshiiro]

Happy Valentines Day to @belovedboys ! This is a EriKar Valentines Day drabble, and I hope you enjoy!! I had a lot of fun writing it. @homestuckvalentine

Valentines Day for the trolls was much different than their human counterparts.

As a result, the inhabitants of Earth C decided that a mix of human and troll valentines day would be the best option, allowing the secrecy of the valentines and unorthodox gifts from the troll’s culture while still including the romantic gestures and gifts from human culture. This was how it operated for quite a few years, and this year was no exception to the rule. People would draw who they would get a gift for, and then they would get a gift for the drawn person and their sweetheart.

There was only one problem this year.

Karkat Vantas, one of the more anti-valentines day trolls, had pulled the name of his flush-crush for the gift exchange. This was a problem for a multitude of different reasons, but the main one was the lack of anonymity that came with the gift exchange. Last year, the troll was able to get away with leaving the real gift on Eridan’s porch, signing it to his ‘secret admirer’, but with the gift exchange he would have to tell everyone who it was. This lead to the dilemma of trying to figure out the perfect gift, without letting everyone know the feelings he had for the violetblood. He wanted to keep it simple, yet elegant enough to suit the other troll’s taste. This was a rather hard task, as Eridan retained his lavish tastes through his time in the dream bubbles. Karkat’s first instinct was to ask his moirail about it, though he soon voted against it after arguing the pros and cons for an hour. Dave had his own plans to focus on, and he didn’t want to interfere with that.

In the end, Karkat decided to ask Kanaya for help.

Although she wasn’t fully comfortable with Eridan, she was always glad to help out a friend with love situations. She was definitely the most experienced, as Rose and her have been happily living as a married couple for years. Kanaya also had the advantage of knowing Karkat’s massive crush, something that would help greatly in figuring out the perfect gift. It wasn’t a long walk to her house, much shorter than it was on Alternia, but with the pressure of Valentine’s Day on his mind and the overly excited carapaces asking about the exchange, it felt like an eternity. He quickly knocked on the door, the force being more than he intended it to be. “Kanaya, open up!” Karkat began to knock more, only stopping upon feeling the door opening under his fist. Rose stood there with a slightly annoyed expression, obviously prepared to lecture whoever had opened the door. However, her expression changed to a welcoming one upon seeing Karkat in the doorway.

“Hello, Karkat. I apologise, but Kanaya is a bit busy right now. Is there something I may help you with?” Rose leaned against the door, a soft smile on her face. Karkat shook his head quickly, already preparing to leave.

“Nothing important. Sorry for bothering you-” He was cut off by Rose shushing him, now shaking her head as well.

“Is it safe to assume this is about the Valentine’s Day exchange? You have seemed a bit… on edge since you pulled the name. Are you sure you would not benefit from talking about it?”

He hesitated slightly, slowly shaking his head. “I can’t possibly hate myself any more by talking about it, so why the fuck not?” He watched as Rose laughed quietly, shaking her head in amusement.

“I am sure that is a statement you will come to regret soon enough, depending on how you take my advice.” She gestured for him to come inside, beginning to walk towards the kitchen. “Close the door after you.”

“I’m not some socially inept godless heathen of a troll, Rose. I know to close the goddamn door behind me.” He glared at the back of her, making sure not to slam the door as he often did at his own place. He watched as Rose shook her head again, noting it was the second time in a very short time that she had done that. He wondered if it was a sign that he was inconveniencing her, though he tried to keep that thought out of his mind for the time being. He had more important things to worry about, such as what he would get Eridan for Valentines Day. Slowly slipping into a seat in the kitchen, he looked over to Rose. “I don’t have any fucking clue what to get the person I picked for the stupid exchange.”

Rose sat down with a cup of coffee, something obviously made before his arrival. “And who may this person be? It would help to know who you need a gift for.”

"Eridan." He hesitated in saying his name, almost embarrassed to say it aloud. "It’s not that I don’t know his tastes, it’s just..." He trailed off, gesturing meaninglessly with his hands. "Complicated." He finished setting his hands in his lap. He kept his eyes away from Rose, scared of her reaction. He kept his eyes down, only looking up when he heard the muffled laughter of his friend.

“What?” He snapped, his eyes narrowing. Karkat didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, though it was too late to turn back now.

Rose tried to stop her laughter, only succeeding when she took a sip of her coffee. “You cannot expect me to act as if I didn't know of your massive crush on Eridan. It is quite obvious from your conversations with both him and Kanaya.” She kept the cup in her hands, taking another sip. “It is apparent that the only one more oblivious to your obvious crush is Eridan himself.” Karkat’s expression went from one of anger to one of shock, his mind barely processing what Rose had told him. Had he really been so obvious about his feelings? Before he could respond to her, Kanaya walked into the kitchen.

“Rose is quite right, though I would argue that you are both equally oblivious to the other’s romantic pursuits.” She moved towards the coffee pot, humming softly. She waved to Karkat, a smile on her face. “What is something you believe Eridan would enjoy?”

Karkat thought for a moment, his mind searching through their previous conversations. He couldn’t remember Eridan mentioning anything, though he can remember that he hadn’t worn his cape for a while, and that when he did wear it, it was battered and torn in many places. He looked over to Kanaya, nodding. “His cape looks like utter hoofbeatshit, and he probably needs a new one. I know he’s obsessed with capes because of his goddamn royalty complex or whatever. I think he’d enjoy a new one.”

Kanaya nodded, sitting down next to Rose. “I believe I have some purple fabric if you would like to use it.” She looked over towards Karkat, who nodded quickly.

“That’d be awesome, thanks Kanaya. Do you think I can alchemise the cape? I can’t sew for shit.” He leaned back in his seat, wondering what the chances were. They had alchemised much harder and more ridiculous items before, so he assumed he should be able to do a simple cape. Rose drummed her fingers against the table, thinking about it for a moment.

“I do not see why not. It would also allow you to add more to it than just fabric.” The implications of it were enough to cause Karkat to lean forward a bit.

“What the hell do you mean?” He regretted the question the moment it came out of his mouth, as he already knew the answer. “Scratch that stupid ass pathetic excuse of a question. Thanks for the fabric.” He stood up, pointing towards Kanaya’s studio. “Can I take this and get the hell out of here before I fall victim to one of your plans?”

Kanaya nodded softly, turning to Rose and striking up a conversation. The two fell into their usual chatter as Karkat slipped into the studio and grabbed the purple fabric, soon leaving the building. The trip was much more successful than expected, though his confidence was still the same when he started. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he made his way back to his house and the mini-alchemiser. It was one of the greatest things produced by them, as it allowed for quick alchemy anywhere, even if Karkat insisted on keeping his at home.

He tried to avoid most carapaces, though an avid group still managed to stop him and question the fabric. He gave very short statements, trying his best not to get too specific, as he pushed through and to his house. Karkat knew the exchange would be happening sooner than preferred, and he wanted the present to be perfect before he even considered leaving for the party. He set the fabric on the table, rummaging in his drawers full of miscellaneous loot from the various kingdoms on Earth C. Upon finding what he needed, he quickly got to work on his gift.

The initial process of alchemising the fabric into a cape was the easy part. The real challenge however, was the process of combining the two items together into the intended product. Although he had gotten quite good at making the right product, there were still inevitable slip  ups. He prayed to every available god, troll or not, for this to turn out correctly. Much to his relief, it turned out much better than he had imagined. He uncaptchalogued a bag he had prepared in case he wanted to buy something, carefully placing the cape inside of it. He then checked the time, seeing that the process had taken much, much longer than anticipated, and that he was going to be late, and possibly miss the exchange. Grabbing the bag and sprinting out of his hive, Karkat focused more on getting there on time than on his surroundings. This resulted in a rather painful crash, the troll finding himself on the ground not long after contact. “Look where you’re going you insolent-!” He couldn’t even find a word to finish the sentence, too focused on who actually knocked him down. “Asshole! Don’t just laugh! Help me up!” He angrily held out his free hand, his other still gripping the bag. The other troll just laughed a bit more, slowly offering out his hand.

“Sorry Kar, though you have to admit that it w-was amusin’ from my point of v-view.” Eridan had a cocky smirk on his face, though it was obvious that he wasn’t too serious about the comment. “You should try an’ be more careful. Almost ruined my gift and everythin’.” Karkat just shot him another glare, using his hand to get up. He brushed the dirt off himself, looking il to the taller troll.

“And you almost murdered mine! What are you even doing so far from the stupid party? I thought you were mega into this shit?”

Eridan couldn’t help his amused expression as he listened to Karkat, pulling out his phone and showing him a recent message. It was from Rose, who told him that the exchange had moved to Karkat’s place for reasons unstated. Karkat stared at it, almost in disbelief. “She never told me the goddamn thing was at my shithole of a hive. Obviously she didn't tell anyone else either, seeing how my hive has absolutely nobody in it.”

Eridan’s smirk fell, the look being replaced by one of confusion. “Really?”

“No, I was just fucking with you. Yes! My hive is empty as shit!” Karkat couldn’t help but laugh at Eridan’s change in demeanor, amused by the fact that he was tricked by Rose and whatever she was planning. A voice in the back of his mind told him that it was a bit weird that it was his hive specifically, though he pushed that thought away as soon as he could.

“W-whatev-ver. It’s more conv-venient that I am here anyw-way.” Eridan shrugged, pulling out a small box, neatly wrapped with crab wrapping paper. He held it out to Karkat, a light purple spreading across his face as he looked away from the smaller troll. Karkat slowly took it in his hands, spotting the blush on Eridan’s face.

“You look like one of the school girls from Dirk’s weird ass animes.” He snorted slightly, though his laughter stopped in its tracks when he saw what was in the box. It was a ruby necklace, carved in the shape of his sign. He turned it around in his hand, finding a small inscription that read as followed:

‘To the one who stole my heart, no matter how crabby.’

Karkat stared at it blankly, not understanding it, or at least not believing that it meant what he assumed. “I’m not a Thief of Heart. Out of all of these shitheads I would think you’d know that.” Eridan rubbed the back of his neck, his fins twitching slightly. He seemed to think for a moment, turning to face Karkat again.

“Kar, ev-ven though I don’t deserve someone like you, w-will you be my V-Valentine?” He pulled his scarf up to obscure some of his face, his blush only getting darker. The realisation dawned on Karkat that yes, Eridan was indeed asking him out. His face sprouted into a bright red, his hands turning the necklace over and over again. “Kar?” Eridan asked, a bit disheartened by the silence. He interpreted it as a rejection, and was about to leave before the troll spoke up.

“You didn’t even let me show you my present before making my heart explode, fuckass.” During Eridan’s confusion, Karkat held out the gift bag towards him, not giving him a chance to think about his words. The violetblood slowly took it, pulling out the cape. It was a beautiful shade of purple, matching his blood colour almost exactly, and was lined with gold. Eridan looked at it more carefully, seeing that it was actual gold that accented the gift. A card fell out of the bag, obviously written by Karkat. It was a simple message, though it made him smile dopily.

‘Whale you be my Valentine, fuckass?’

Karkat kept his eyes on the ground, worried that Eridan’s silence meant he didn’t like the present. He didn’t learn much from his own stunned silence, as his worries were far from the truth. Eridan was instead busy putting the cape on himself, loving it even more than his own cape. Just as Karkat thought his thoughts would deter him from ever seeing Eridan again, he heard a voice.

“Kar?” He slowly looked up, his eyes meeting the other’s for just a moment before he felt lips on his own. He was startled, not knowing how to respond as his brain processed what was happening. Soon enough though, he began to kiss his crush back. The kiss lasted much shorter than they both would have liked, though it wasn’t long before they made contact again. This one lasted much longer, and when they pulled away they were blushing much more than before.

“Yes.” Eridan smiled, looking Karkat in the eyes. “I w-whale be your V-Valentine.”

Karkat couldn’t help but laugh, a few happy tears springing to his eyes.

Valentine’s Day would always be a mess, though he knew the years to come would be much sweeter with Eridan by his side.

[rachelkaser]

Gears 5 is an experiment -- one that (mostly) failed

Gears 5 is a game from a studio that really wants to try new things. It’s a new entry in a very entrenched franchise that tries to bolt said new things onto an established-to-the-point-of-obstinancy gameplay formula. It’s an interesting experiment -- and, though the experiment wasn’t successful, I think it does set some important groundwork for the next game.

There were quite a number of franchise games that came out this year that excelled specifically because they returned us to the kind of gameplay we’re used to from them -- Kingdom Hearts 3 brought its JRPG madness after years of development hell, Devil May Cry 5 tripled down on its over-the-top action. Hell, Ubisoft basically slapped some pink paint on Far Cry 5 and shoved it out the door as Far Cry New Dawn and it was perfectly acceptable.

All Gears 5 had to do was basically that: Give us more of the same gameplay we’ve had all along, and we’d have gobbled it up. So I actually am surprised that developers The Coalition have chosen to experiment with it as much as they did.

But here’s the thing: While I do think the attempts to add new spice to the formula didn’t work out in this instance, I think they could if they were properly incorporated into the game. I’m not using the word “failed” to mean the game was bad -- because it wasn’t bad. But it definitely tried some new stuff, and failed to successfully incorporate that new stuff into the final product. With a few select changes, I think it could definitely pull it off better when it’s time for Gears 6.

Empty lands

The biggest new change is, of course, the open world. I’ve already expounded on most of my thoughts in my review for The Next Web, but I’ll add one thing I didn’t cover there: The characters don’t interact with each other nearly enough to justify the empty spaces. Especially during the second (and final) open level where you’re parasailing around this Mars-like red hellscape with four of the main characters packed onto the vehicle together, and they’ll say maybe ten words to each other. I feel they could have done more to alleviate the boredom.

This wouldn’t be a huge problem -- the story moments serve to build the character relationships sufficiently -- except when it comes to the final moments of the game. Then the game takes a very sharp turn into territory it has heretofore not tried.

I’m going to drop some truly epic *SPOILERS* here, so consider yourself warned.

In the final moments of the game, heroine Kait Diaz is attempting to fight off the Swarm Queen, a.k.a. her imperfectly resurrected mother Reyna. The Queen somehow manages to snatch up Kait’s two best friends, JD Fenix and Del Walker. Because she only has one knife to throw at their tentacle-y restraints (long story) she can only save one of them.

Okay. So. Two problems with this.

Problem One: The Options

I imagine that, when the developers were drafting the story for this game, there was a moment when one of the staffers raised their hands and asked the obvious question: “Why would anyone want to save Del?”

It would have been a fair question, too. While Del is a perfectly likable companion, JD is both the son of series hero Marcus Fenix and was himself the protagonist of the last game. Kait was without question always going to be the player character for Gears 5 -- Gears 4 was already her story, and I’m sure The Coalition realized what a splash it’d be to have the main character of the latest in this notoriously testosterone-fueled franchise be a woman. But still, going into Gears 5, JD will have made far more headway with the average player than Del.

So what’s the solution? The Coalition appears to have taken a two-pronged approach to solving this problem, stemming from the same incident. In the prologue of the game, JD instigates a disastrous Hail Mary attack in an attempt to get his squad unpinned in a big battle, which results in the death of Lizzy Carmine. After this incident, he becomes positively Byronic with his perpetual broodiness and bad mood.

To compound this sudden personality change, he’s retroactively revealed to have been part of a major war crime (that apparently took place between games, because I don’t recall it ever being mentioned before), in which he ordered his fellow Gears to fire on civilians. Needless to say, this turns Del against him, and his hostility towards Kait over his suspicions about her lineage alienates her as well.

While this is happening, Del proves himself to be a true mensch, siding with Kait and accompanying her on her quest to find out how she’s related to the Swarm. He supports her when she has a meltdown upon learning the truth, covers her when she tries to get the Swarm’s hive mind burned out of her brain, and even gives JD hell when he comes slinking back to join the two with his proverbial tail between his legs. I can’t say he’s exactly given much character development, and he’s certainly no Dom despite that blatantly being the hole he was created to fill. But his friendship with Kait definitely feels more developed and meaningful this time ... but only because JD’s not around.

I can say that this whole palaver works, in that I did feel torn about who of the two I wanted to save. But it’s robbing Peter to pay Paul, kneecapping JD in a false attempt to uplift Del. The reason I mentioned before that the characters needed to interact more on the open world traversal is because I think it would have been perfectly plausible to have the characters bond more deeply and therefore make the final choice more difficult purely by having them interact more in this big empty space. It just feels like there had to have been a better way to balance this than by completely altering JD’s character.

To put it into perspective, the entire prologue is about giving JD a good reason to not be in the game for a few acts so that Del can get some more bonding time with Kait. And while I have no proof of it, I’m convinced that this whole thing happened because the developers started with the idea that the game was going to end with Kait’s choice, and then they built the rest of the story around it.

Which brings me to the next problem...

Problem Two: The Suddenness

The choice of who to save, Del or JD, is literally the only time in the entire game the player is called upon to make a choice of any kind. The rest of the campaign is purely linear. The problem with including choice in your narrative is that you can’t throw in such an important one in at the literal final hour -- at least, not without it feeling stupidly contrived.

I had this same problem with Resident Evil 7, which also throws in a last minute “who do you save” option. In that game’s case, it was essentially what would have happened if Gears 5 hadn’t built Del and Kait’s friendship up. The choices were Mia, main character Ethan’s wife whom he’d spent the entire game trying to rescue; and Zoe, a woman Ethan had known only a few hours.

The vast majority of gamers I saw had the same reaction: Why would you ever save Zoe? Mia is Ethan’s wife and rescuing her is the only reason we’re in this nightmare, so if you don’t save her, the entire game was for nothing. And even if you pick Zoe, she dies anyway and you get the bad ending. There’s also a whole story DLC about Zoe’s uncle coming to rescue her after Ethan leaves her behind, which it just assumes is what you did, so why the fuck was this even an option?!

As an example of how this works when done properly, see the first Mass Effect game. What that particular game did well -- and what the sequels, though I love them, failed to do quite as wonderfully -- was weave in both big, meaningful choices and smaller ones. At the one minute, you’re trying to decide if you should make a pleasant or harsh dialogue choice. At the next, you’re trying to decide whether or not you should exterminate the last living member of an alien race.

It’s all building up, not necessarily to the final battle, but to the mission on Virmire. In this pivotal mission, you must decide which of two teammates to save. Both have had your backs for every moment of this multi-hour RPG, and the prospect of losing either one is heartbreaking. But while it’s a gut punch, it’s not wholly unexpected -- the entire game has been priming you to make exactly this kind of big, meaningful, terrible choice.

Gears 5 doesn’t build you up to its final decision. You’re basically playing Rooty-Tooty-Duck-n-Shooty, then all of a sudden the game asks you which of your two closest friends you want to see die. I don’t feel anything from this choice, because I wasn’t emotionally prepared to be making a choice, if that makes sense. It feels so out-of-the-blue that I more or less detached from it -- I definitely didn’t feel that sense of deep conflict and upset that I did during the Virmire mission.

Heck, at least when Wolfenstein: The New Order did this, it had the courtesy both to do it at the beginning of the game and to not pretend it made any real difference... and I still felt more deeply affected by that choice than I did by the one at the end of Gears 5.

This dabbling in open world, in player choice -- it’s not done well in Gears 5. But I sense this is something the developers are just trying out. Just because I don’t think the attempt succeeded doesn’t mean I’m not interested in seeing them trying again. There are the seeds of something really good here, even if they didn’t grow in this particular soil.

If The Coalition can figure out a way to fill their open worlds and make player choice a core part of the narrative rather than something to surprise the player with at the last minute, it could actually make Gears 6 into something interesting and different.

[advocatewrites-blog]

Simple/Clean Chapter 7

Simple/Clean: An Original Character’s Story

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (1, with mentions of other installments)

Synopsis: There are many worlds, but they share the same sky. One Sky, one Destiny. And when that destiny is threatened, the universe calls on one hero to save the day. Or, more like, five. When the Earth is consumed into Darkness, Danielle Scott and her friends are given the Keys between light and darkness. If they are going to save the worlds and find her brother, they are going to have to go on a multiverse-wide road trip to find the Door to Light. If only they had a better weapon than keys.

Rated: +K for violence and occasional language

Disclaimer: The Kingdom Hearts series was created by Tetsuya Nomura and owned by Square Enix. The Final Fantasy series was created by Hironobu Sakaguchi and owned by Square Enix. The films depicted were created by the Walt Disney Animation Studios and owned by the Walt Disney Company. Any other work mentioned or homaged are property of their respective owners. This is a non-profit fan-based work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the official releases.

Chapter 7 of 12

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Chapter 7: There Be Whales Here

There was not really a night on the Gummi Ship.  The Gummi Ship constantly moved through space, and time was always different on each world. However, there was a universally acknowledged bed time, just as soon they had gotten off of one world and Donald was able to set a course for the next one.

Just because their bed time was set up by exhaustion didn't mean that insomnia didn't exist on the Gummi Ship.

Hanna curled up in the copilot's chair. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep on the ship, but she hadn't been comfortable sleeping since she got on the ship. Let alone the fact she was in a small vehicle with six other people, she had no pajamas, what blankets there were worn and thin, and there was only one bed for all seven of them. That, and there was an overwhelming sense of panic and fear just being on the ship. Not to mention, the adrenaline boosts she got whenever she even stepped off on the ship. And the realization she kept pushing back that everything she knew was gone…

The point was, Hanna couldn't sleep.

She adjusted the privacy curtain between the pilot and passenger's sides of the ship. If she couldn't sleep, than she should do something productive with her time. She had the fortune of having her backpack with her the entire trip, but that only had so many books, and you can only read about the Pythagorean Theorem so many times before you wanted to scream.

Screaming, in the middle of the night, in the middle of space, was ill advised.

Instead, she grabbed Genie's lamp and the papers found inside. The papers were crinkled and old, and Hanna worried that if she applied too much pressure to any spot the whole thing would turn to dust. The handwriting was unbearably neat, thick cursive in thicker ink. Still, Hanna read on.

It is my duty to expose what this darkness really is. I shall conduct the following experiments:

•     Extract the darkness from a person's heart.

•     Cultivate darkness in a pure heart.

•     Both suppress and amplify the darkness within.

The experiments caused the test subject's heart to collapse, including those of the most stalwart. How fragile our hearts are! My treatment produced no signs of recovery. I confined those who had completely lost their hearts beneath the castle.

Some time later, I went below and was greeted by the strangest sight. Creatures that seemed born of darkness...What are they? Are they truly sentient beings? Could they be the shadows of those who lost their hearts in my experiments?

The shadows that crawl beneath the castle... Are they the people who lost their hearts, or incarnations of darkness? Or something entirely beyond my imagination?

All my knowledge has provided no answer. One thing I am sure of is that they are entirely devoid of emotion. Perhaps further study will unlock the mysteries of the heart.

Fortunately, there is no shortage of test samples. They are multiplying underground even as I write this report. They still need a name. Those who lack hearts... I will call them the Heartless.

The Heartless appear in groups, and are multiplying rapidly. I've provided them both living and nonliving samples. They've responded only to the living. They seem to multiply after absorbing something from the living creatures. Their prey vanishes without a trace.

I believe the Heartless are taking hearts. They are born from those who've lost their hearts, and thrive on hearts seized from others. The hearts taken by the Heartless become Heartless themselves.

Though I lack proof, I am confident in this hypothesis. I must also study their behavioral principles. Though they lack emotions, they do seem to have some intelligence. How to communicate with them?

It's just occurred to me: Could they be the darkness in people's hearts?

The rustling of the privacy curtain behind her startled Hanna out of the text. Sora sat down on the pilot's chair next to her.

“Can't sleep either?” Hanna asked, not looking up.

Sora shrugged. “I was thinking about Jasmine...and Kairi.”

Hanna tensed, and nodded. “We did what we could. Now we should just try our best to do more of that.”

“I don't know if my best is good enough.” Sora said. “I mean, look at you!”

Hanna blinked.

“You've never wielded a sword in your life before, and now you can do three with ease! Or Katie, or Nadine! I just have the one. And I'm not all that great with it.” Sora said.

“If I could get rid of my Keyblade powers and give them to you, I would.”

“You don't like it?” Sora asked.

“I haven't liked it since day 1. I just want to go back home.”

There was silence again.

“Did you turn off the auto-pilot?” Sora asked.

It was so casually said, it took Hanna a minute to realize how dangerous the notion was. “What?”

“The auto-pilot's off. Did you turn it off?”

“No!”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when the ship shook. Hanna and Sora glanced up.

Against all rational thought, the first thing out of Hanna's mouth was “Is that a blue whale?”

This was the third time the Gummi Ship had crashed since Katie had first stepped on it. It was quite the resilient little ship.

“I didn't touch anything, I swear!” Sora said. “There was just this...huge whale!”

“In space?” Donald asked, suspicion as thick in his voice as his lisp.

Katie was the first one out of the Gummi Ship. She regretted it almost instantly. The floor was soft and squishy, making it hard for her to hold her balance. The walls were made of a similar material. Wet noises sounded under her shoes, making her feel nauseous. The way the floor pushed against her confirmed her suspicions: whatever she was standing on was alive.

Something fell close to her head, causing Katie to jump. A treasure chest, recently looted, now sat at her feet.

“So if there was a whale, where is it now?”

Goofy was the second one out. He confirmed Katie's theory. “I think that whale just swallowed us up.”

He swung his shield up, just in time to block another falling treasure chest.

“Thanks.” She said to Goofy. “Knock it off up there!” She said to whoever was throwing it.

They responded by throwing another one.

The floor shifted and shifted some more as the others left the Gummi Ship.

“What's going on?” Nadine asked.

“We're expecting showers.” Goofy said.

Another treasure chest fell. This time Goofy didn't get a chance to block it. It collided with his head before tumbling to the floor.

“Heavy showers.” Goofy added, nonplussed.

“You're made of steel, aren't you?” Katie asked. “Like, not even in a metaphorical sense; you're just solid metal, aren't you?”

“Garwsh,” Goofy said. “Pete always told me I had a thick skull, but....”

“Who's up there, anyway!” Donald interrupted.

“It's me!” A voice chimed from above the ledge.

“Oh, it's just Pinocchio.” Donald said. ��Wait, Pino--”

“Pinocchio!”

Jiminy Cricket crawled out of Sora's hair. “Hey! Pinnoch! What are you doing? Pinnochio, come back here! Gepetto won’t like this!”

“I’m off to find father right now!” Pinocchio called. He sounded very far away.

“What! Why you—come back here!” The cricket scampered off.

“You know him?” Katie asked.

“Only though Jiminy.” Donald said. “But come on. He might be out only chance out of here.”

Katie looked about her. There were the ledges, but they were a bit too high to climb up. There was the floor, which was too hard to climb about on. The only thing they could cross through was a body of water, the origin of which Katie could not quite identify.

“Gross...”

To nobody's surprise, Pinocchio wasn't holding up for Jiminy. This was perfect! He had all the pieces he needed now! All he had to do was take it back to Father and--

He froze as he caught something out of the corner of his eye. There were more people in Monstro. He only caught a glimpse of them, but he knew for a fact it was not someone he recognized. Even worse, he was entered one of the stomach chambers.

That wasn't good. Even without the Heartless, it was dangerous to explore around Monstro.

Well, a quick detour wouldn't hurt. Besides, helping people was a good thing, right? Jiminy couldn't judge him for that!

The interior of Monstro turned out to be very stable. Sure, it was still a living breathing organism, but nothing seemed to be passed along to lower digestive systems. This included a whole house. Admittedly, it wasn’t as much a house as it was a fort, with only a few pieces of furniture made of remnants of ships. There was no denying, however, it was lived in. It had been lived in. For a while.

“Oh, hello there!” The houses’ occupant said once he saw them. “Have you seen my son?”

“That depends. What does he look like?” Nadine asked.

“Let’s see…he’s about this tall, black hair, blue eyes, big nose…oh, and he was wearing the lederhosen I made for him.” The man said. “Oh, and he’s also made of wood.”

“It’s a good thing we’ve already met him or else I’d think you’re crazy.” Nadine said. “But he said he was running off to find his father.”

“He was? Oh dear...he might have gotten lost in one of the stomach chambers.” The man said. “He’s been helping me build a ship to get us out of here.”

He gestured behind him to a Gummi Ship, mostly finished.

“We can help with that!” Donald said.

“Yeah!” Goofy added. “We’ve learned to always keep some extra gummi parts on the ship!”

The man’s eyes lit up. “You would? Oh, thank you, thank you! We have been in this beast for far too long!”

“How long?” Hanna asked.

“What year is it?” The man answered.

“How about we go look for Pinnochio for you?” Dani asked. “We needed to go find our cricket anyway.”

“Cricket? Jiminy Cricket?” The man said. “Well, at least I know he won’t get into trouble by his own hand…but do be careful in there. Even without the Heartless, they’re a bit tricky to navigate.”

“Relax.” Dani said as she summoned her Keyblade. “We’re heroes.”

“This place is gross and I don’t want to be here anymore.” Dani realized.

“Where even are we?” Nadine asked. “Do whales usually have more stomach chambers than this?”

“If they do, I don’t think they’re usually a labyrinth like this is.” Dani said.

More Heartless materialized.

“Well that can’t be good for this thing’s digestive system.” Dani said.

“So how do you think this thing functions?” Katie said. “Because I’m not a marine biologist, but I generally don’t think whales generally have ready to climb platforms around its stomach.”

“I also don’t think they fly in space and eat things that aren’t krill, let alone at least two ships full of people.” Hanna said.

“Hm. Maybe you have a point.” Katie slowed down as she looked down another corridor. “Do whales generally have Heartless inside them as well?”

“What?”

Sora and Hanna rushed to her side as fast as they could without bouncing around the stomach. They looked through the corridor. There was another chamber, occupied primarily by stomach acid and one big Heartless. It was shaped like a pumpkin, with a body composed of bars. Tendrils waved behind it. Someone sat inside it.

“Uh…” Pinocchio said from within. “Help?”

“Interesting, isn’t it?” A voice spoke.

“Riku?” Sora asked.

That was Riku? Katie’s eyes shot upward as a figure perched on one of the platforms above. White hair, evil-looking smirk, and eyes that glistened with dark…Katie didn’t like him.

“Interesting, isn’t it.” Riku asked. “A puppet with a Heart. Too bad he’s going to lose it.”

“The proper response to that is hi, by the way.” Katie said.

Riku gave her a look and she suddenly regretted speaking up. “Still trying to make new friends instead of helping your old ones?”

“I’m not replacing you, Riku.” Sora said defensively. “And what are you talking about anyway?”

Riku let out barely a breath. A scoff, Katie realized. Half of one, at least.

“Maybe your new friends can help you with this.” He said. He vanished, tendrils of Darkness snapping where his feet were supposed to be.

The Heartless chose that moment to move. Its tendrils shot towards the three. Hanna moved first, jumping out of the way and summoning her two Keyblades.

“Can somebody please take care of this unattended child?” Hanna said over the chaos.

Katie summoned her Keyblades and jumped in. It took some effort, but she managed to pry the bars open enough for Pinocchio to crawl through them.

“Sora, can you make sure he gets back to his dad?” She asked.

Sora hesitated for just a moment, before leading Pinocchio out. He looked oddly…hurt. Why, though?

Katie stopped thinking about it as she was nearly chucked into stomach acid.

“I think Hanna would say that that’s a ship for ants.” Sora said. He would have said the Gummi ship in front of him was as big as his shoes, but that also wasn’t exactly a fair measurement.

“It’s much bigger on the inside.” Gepetto said.

“And we’re going to be towing them to Traverse Town anyway.” Donald said. “Now, are you ready to go?”

Sora was about to say yes, but he stopped as he his hair being pulled.

“Can you lower me down, please?” Jiminy asked.

Sora held out a hand. The cricket scrambled down it, and stood firm against Sora’s palm. He looked Pinocchio dead in the nose, and straightened himself out.

“Now Pinocchio,” Jiminy said. “I’ve got a very important responsibility to assist the Queen. As such, I will not be able to officially act as your Conscious for a while. But that’s no excuse not to be on your best behavior. I know you’re capable of great things. Now take care of your father,”

Pinocchio’s smiled wobbled, like he wasn’t sure if he should be sad that he was leaving Jiminy or happy that he was being praised. “Right!”

“And don’t follow strangers who say they’re going to make you famous,”

Pinocchio’s face dropped at that. “Right.”

“And if you any need any help, go find Miss Aerith.”

“Right!”

Jiminy looked very proud of himself, and started the climb back up to Sora’s head.

“Why Aerith?” Sora asked.

Jiminy made a face. “Leon, Yuffie and Cid are all my friends, but I don’t exactly trust them with the care of a little boy.”

That was fair. He waited until Jiminy was safe on his scalp before withdrawing his hand.

“Now Dani,” Donald stated. He stopped. It looked like it took a considerable amount of effort to say the next part. “You can drive Gepetto’s ship.”

“Hooray!”

“But don’t get any ideas!” He snapped. “That thing’s top speed is 11 miles an hour, and we’ll be right in front of you!”

Her triumph deflated. “Then what’s the point?”

“You at least have some experience seeing how the ship is run, where Gepetto doesn’t!”

Gepetto shrugged. “I make toys for a living.”

“Jiminy, can you go with them?” Donald asked. “I would feel a lot safer with somebody that has a good head on their shoulders and doesn’t take up a whole lot of space inside.”

“Well that’s my specialty!” Jiminy said.

The groups divided. The ships were loaded. But Sora remained where he was, too lost in thought to move. Dani noticed first.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“I dunno.” Sora said. “I should have been able to do something.”

“What? About Riku?”

“No, just…about everything.”

Dani gestured for him to follow her into the ship. He followed. There was room in Gepetto’s ship…barely. While their Gummi Ship was about the size of half a room, Gepetto’s Gummi ship was about the size of half a boat. Between the five of them, there was barely any room left.

They squeezed in closer to the captain’s seat.

“I just feel like I could have done something else. Maybe Riku was right.”

“About what?”

“Maybe I can’t find Kairi.”

Hyopcrite. You are the one who has made your heart a prison.

All for one and one for all!

I must warn you again—the road will not be easy.

A heart is never lost for good.

You know, I was gonna come swooping in, Keyblade in hand, but I just couldn’t get mine to materialize. Must be in the snap of the wrist or something.

 “Well, not with that attitude.”

It snapped Sora out of thoughts he was not aware he was having. He fought to focus back to Dani.

“I mean, c’mon!” Dani said. “You’re a Keyblade master! You’ve travelled through other worlds! Who cares if you don’t have as many flashy powers! I think you make up for it in the fact that you’re also one of the only ones who actually knows how to wield their sword.”

He couldn’t argue that one, he realized with a laugh.

“Now, we’re gonna go find Kairi, save the King, and prove to the whole universe we’re awesome!”

The ship kicked into life and began to fly. And Sora realized she was right.

He was just as good a Keyblade master as the rest of them.

Author’s Note: You know I’ve never really seen Pinocchio all the way through. Even as a kid I was a lot more interested in the book, which was a lot more morally complex for everyone involved. I like the Disneyland ride?

So there are feelings I have about Sora and Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance. It’s okay if you like it; I personally thought it was a very fun game with a very bad plot. However, these feelings will be shaping the rest of the story, as well as Sora’s development from here on. Even if not all of it is in this installment.