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shihalyfie · 3 years ago

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Comparing the original Best Partner character song series and the new one, and what that says about the 02 cast

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So if you haven’t heard yet, a new series of 02 (it’s actually Kizuna) character songs dropped! Allegedly intended as a slightly delayed 20th anniversary project, the series is a callback to the original “Best Partner” character song album series that released during 02′s actual airing.

If you know anything about the original Best Partner series, it’s one that sets an insanely high bar, even for Digimon standards (and that’s saying something, given the deep associations this franchise has with music). The series of character songs before it, Adventure’s “Character Song + Mini Drama” series, has a…kind of questionable amount of relevance to each character; it’s not like they’re super amazingly out of character, but they don’t really tell you a lot about each character beyond some gloss details (this is probably best demonstrated in how Mimi’s song is blatantly just an AiM single disguised as a Mimi song). Best Partner, on the other hand, very intimately goes into each character’s head and their relationships with their respective partners, even putting in direct words what wasn’t stated explicitly in the series.

So does the new series live up to the high bar its predecessor sets? Answer: on top of some abnormal attention to detail on the covers, it is very obvious that the new series not only has a lot of the depth of the 02 characters in mind, but also is made in direct response to the original series itself. Moreover, putting the original Best Partner series and this one side by side reveals a lot about each of the 02 characters and what they got out of 02′s story, in a surprisingly neat summary.

Let’s go into how!

Since this is something that has a deep relationship with all of these characters in regards to the series, this particular meta would not have been possible without input from multiple people who know these characters better than I could ever hope to by myself. Thank you for all of your help.

A bit of historical context

The original Best Partner series consisted of a set of albums, one representing each pair of partners in 02. Notably, even though nowadays there’s a specific order of the Adventure/02 characters that’s used in modern media, not only does the original series not follow that ordering (as it hadn’t been set in stone at the time), it also leads with the original Adventure characters and not the 02 ones, which is pretty unusual for a series that’s ostensibly supposed to be for 02 (modern lineups will usually favor leading with whichever group the relevant product is branded with).

A lot of this probably makes more sense when you realize that the original Best Partner series was released during the first half of 02’s airing. The final album was released on August 23, 2000, four days before the fateful 02 episode 21 (yes, that means the third track on Ken and Wormmon’s album is actually a spoiler). So in other words, while the original Best Partner series accurately reflects the older Adventure group’s character development and what problems they were able to sufficiently overcome, the 02 group does not have anything about their character development from 02′s second half reflected in it at all.

That’s actually a really huge disparity, when you think about it, especially because a lot happened with the 02 group in that second half – that second half was where the emotional payoff and the results of everything that had been building up over that first half came together. So in comparison to the Adventure group, composed of people confidently talking about what they’ve decided for themselves from now on, you still have the 02 group drenched pretty deeply in insecurity. Watch 02 to the end and listen to those songs again, and you might even think “wait, this is supposed to represent these characters?” So, in essence, the new Best Partner series serves to address that gap, and what the 02 group gained and learned out of 02′s second half.

Best Partner (and its successor series for Tamers, Best Tamers) follows a uniform format: a solo song for the human partner, a solo song for the Digimon partner, and a duet between the two. (Given that, the original Best Partner series was really huge, at a whole 36 songs.) Recalling that, in the Adventure universe, a Digimon partner reflects the human’s inner self and psyche, it’s pretty extensive coverage: what the human has to say about themself, what place their Digimon partner is in relative to that, and what the nature of their relationship is due to that.

Let’s go into each pair of partners in detail!

Daisuke and V-mon

For those who love 02 and love Daisuke in particular, when you ask “what kind of character is Daisuke like?” or “what’s Daisuke’s best quality?”, you’re probably going to get answers like “forward-thinking” or “positive” or “good at uplifting others” – basically everything to do with how Daisuke is an encouraging presence who doesn’t give in easily and has a strong mentality of moving forward in the face of despair. Someone who appreciates and understands others’ best qualities, and loves them for everything they are. So when you look at his original Best Partner solo song, Goggle Boy…

But more than just saving the world I really don’t want to lose, you know

…Uh…

These goggles are my proof Given by a certain someone to me The precious thing he handed over It’s just like his Crest, you know Aren’t they cool?

…Well, that’s nowhere to be found.

This is the kind of song that might make you think “wait, this is supposed to be Daisuke’s representative song?!” (It’s possibly because of this that Daisuke’s song from The Bridge to Dreams, Tomorrow, generally tended to be far more favored among Daisuke fans, although it’s more relevant to 02 as a whole than it is to Daisuke in particular.) if you listen to Goggle Boy knowing about what Daisuke’s best qualities should be, this is almost a little frustrating, because this is the kind of thing he really shouldn’t be pigeonholed as – basically, begging for others’ approval and praise and focusing on idolizing others. Even his most insightful moments in this song come from his appreciation of something that came from someone else (Taichi), not from himself.

Well, the thing is, that was Daisuke’s character for most of the first half of 02. Of course, even in early episodes, there were many times where Daisuke’s potential for positivity and forward-thinkingness were starting to poke through, but most of the time he was rolling over trying to please others and chasing after his seniors. The real period of time he started to grow into his own about this was 02 episode 24 and its aftermath – when his time spent with his friends started to fill the void in his life and his need for validation, and the escalating situation, especially with Ken, led him to have a proper grasp of what was properly important and what needed to be done.

So when we get to his new solo, RUNNING MAN…

I’ll keep on running far ahead Let’s bring everyone along with me, today, too Really, always, thank you, Thank you so much Riding the wind, going past the sky Grasping your hands and flying I’m even starting to see beyond my dreams

Even in only one section, you can get an instant image of the Motomiya Daisuke we all know and love – someone who appreciates his friends’ role in his life, loves their company, and moves positively towards the future. Because, again, after the events of 02, and after being able to bond further with his friends and gaining his own strengths in leading everyone forward, he became able to more properly express his love for everything instead of constantly vying for others’ attention. Even the title reflects the change, from a “boy” who’s flashing the symbol of courage he got from someone else, to a “man” who’s positively running forward on his own merits.

(Interestingly, RUNNING MAN is composed by Ohta Michihiko, a legendary composer who’s made many of some of the most important songs in the franchise, and also composed many of the original Best Partner songs, including Goggle Boy. It’s interesting how RUNNING MAN is the one most like the original songs in atmosphere as a result – possibly representing how Daisuke is a simple-minded person who ostensibly doesn’t change drastically in disposition – yet has lyrical content that’s so starkly different.)

As a result, this is subtly reflected in the other two songs in each album as well – remember that V-mon is one of the partners who most “matches” his own partner in terms of disposition and mentality. So as Daisuke shifted his own priorities, V-mon did too; we go from Go Ahead! being about taking a stand and fighting, whereas Beyond the Future is about a similar forward-thinking mentality to Daisuke’s.

Likewise, the duets have different priorities as well; 2-TOP was composed of Daisuke and V-mon bickering for the most of it, and the most substantial point you could get about it was that despite their bickering, they made it work, whereas HEY-rasshai! has them almost entirely in sync (with one minor moment of deviance). It’s also interesting to see the topics covered in each; 2-TOP is about soccer, which ultimately is revealed to be a fairly incidental hobby for Daisuke, whereas HEY-rasshai! is about ramen making, which, while comical, also has a very strong tie to “Daisuke’s dream for the future, and his willingness to single-mindedly dedicate himself to something when it’s something he truly wants”. In other words, while Daisuke knew what he wanted since elementary school, it says a lot that he’s at a point where he and V-mon are now taking proactive steps to have that dream achieved, now that they’re able.

Ken and Wormmon

Like with his position in 02 itself, Ken’s is probably the easiest to see the contrast without trying too hard, but there’s still quite a lot to unpack!

When you think about it, in the modern era, it’s actually surprisingly hard to find stuff too relevant to Ken’s time as the Kaiser. The reason is, simply, that the series itself discourages this – Ken himself had an obvious aversion to dwelling too much on it, and the entire series itself has a strong theme of “moving on”. It’s not to say that the Kaiser doesn’t have a fanbase (I’m sorry if you’re reading this and find that I might be implying too hard that you don’t exist), but rather that there’s a franchise and fanart tendency to focus more on “Ken-chan” than “the Kaiser” these days, and old merch from the first half of the series will all too often get responses of “it’s really sad Ken-chan can’t be there…” Of course, 02 itself was also about accepting one’s mistakes, not pretending they never happened, so it’d be foolhardy to deny Ken’s dark history entirely, but it’s retroactively interesting to see such a prominent and persistent piece of merch like Ken and Wormmon’s original Best Partner album focus so largely on Ken’s time as the Kaiser when most of the franchise ended up trying to move on.

Starting with Ken’s solo songs, and his first one, ONLY ONE:

I’ve lived without showing my true feelings, wearing this mask

Well, this was easy to tell from the series itself, but the point driven home is that Ken didn’t want to expose his true self to others, putting on a front of “strength” and smashing his true feelings into the corner so that he could become more of the “perfect” person he thought he was supposed to be. There’s also another interesting line that one should pay attention to:

I polished the knife in my heart and put my belief in infinite power

Basically, putting up a defensive front to prevent anything from approaching his weaknesses.

Anyway, moving onto his new song, Never Ending:

If I want to be proud of tomorrow’s version of myself I wonder, what can I do? Never Give-up I’ll keep fighting, even doing someone else’s part No, I won’t be afraid anymore

First of all, the main theme of the song is about putting conscious thought into understanding how to stay true to himself – basically, understanding what it is he really wants to do and become, instead of putting on fronts and hiding it from others. Not only that, we see traces of what exactly he gained over the course of the second half of 02 – because so much of it involved constantly trying to blame himself for everything, this song is about what he came to learn in terms of proactively making it up and actively fighting forward. He’s working hard!

We also have this part:

The knife that’s pointed at someone, or at myself If it’s been let go of

Two things going on here: firstly, we have an explicit reference to the metaphorical “knife” Ken referred to putting up in ONLY ONE, talking about finally letting it go instead of bothering with this kind of front. He also points out that, in a sense, the knife was pointed at himself too, either in the sense of actually having hurt himself through this entire ideal, or in the sense that he constantly was trying to blame and punish himself for everything. None of that should be necessary anymore. Moreover, Never Ending contains a lot of references to “daily life” and the happiness that comes with the simplicity of just being alive – because that was indeed what Ken gained through his experiences, the ability to treasure living life in itself instead of aspiring to an impossible standard.

Another interesting thing about Never Ending is that it’s technically in a similar rock genre to ONLY ONE instead of being “soft”, like Ken’s personality is often thought to be. This was a surprise to a lot of people who commented on how surprisingly “cool” the song was, but this is actually completely in line with Ken arguably being one of the most openly assertive people in this group even after his reformation. Note that it’s very difficult to call this song purely angsty – it’s definitely positive and forward-thinking, and the chorus itself is partially in major key – but it has the vibe of someone who’s fully aware of everything that’s happened, is putting proper thought into it, and is pushing on despite everything. Remember, the intensity the Kaiser had originally came from somewhere; Ichijouji Ken is the same person, in the end.

In regards to Wormmon’s song, the contrast is also obvious: The Future You Dreamed of, the Future I Dreamed Of. is of course about Wormmon’s tormented feelings during the Kaiser’s abusive relationship with him, whereas can change it! is about its aftermath and how they made up (including copious references to the events of 02 episode 23). Even then, there’s a certain “forward-thinking” attitude that marks this song as being representative of being after 02’s events and not during – see the line “The mistake we made that day/is exactly the reason we’ll never let it happen again”, instead of the self-punishment and shame Stingmon expressed in 02 episode 26).

On top of that, the duet song Forever Adolescence also marks a subtle progression from the point they were at from True Strength – remembering that Best Partner 12 was released at a time when True Strength was actually a bit of a spoiler, while Ken and Wormmon obviously had made up by that point, the key line in it is still “everything truly begins from here”. So what, exactly, happened after that? According to Forever Adolescence, the decision made was to keep moving forward, and, moreover, to stay “the way they are”, especially with the nuance that it means it’s okay to not force oneself into the role of an adult and stay “young at heart”. This is really, really important in light of the events of Kizuna, the 02 group’s unusual role in it and its relevance to 02′s themes (more on this below), and how Spring 2003 referred to the pressure placed on Osamu as him being “forced to grow up too quickly” – in essence, Ken and Wormmon have firmly resolved to actively move away from that kind of pressure.

Miyako and Hawkmon

I’ve pointed out several times on this blog that the actual complex Miyako was going through in 02 was that she hated herself more than anyone else in the group would be willing to criticize her – and if you don’t believe me, it’s put in a pretty heavy-handed manner in her original song, Crash and Bingo!:

Fussing about it won’t get anything done But my selfishness and problems and panic keep coming out

…and even more viciously in her own and Hawkmon’s duet, Fly High:

I can’t do anything right, besides playing around with computers

Everyone would be still be fine if I weren’t there

If you thought it was subtle in the main series, it certainly isn’t here: Miyako considered herself good for absolutely nothing and unable to be accepted by others for being too useless – in these songs, despite Hawkmon’s attempts to uplift her, she criticizes her own messy tendencies and considers herself a burden. Best Partner is a positive series, so it still has the attitude of “we’ll try anyway”, but it’s clear that Miyako really didn’t have the highest opinion of herself at all. Hence, Fly High also shows off the worst of Hawkmon having to deal with the fallout – with Miyako flailing around in panic and considering herself good for nothing, he’s forced to carry her around.

But come Miyako’s new solo, From Spain with Love!, we see a huge contrast all over the place:

I, who have evolved into an adult make everyone do a double-take at me when I walk by!

Exhibit A: actual confidence in herself and ability to consider herself worth something;

If I can always, always be honest with myself Even if I don’t put together some program, even if I keep screwing up Ah, you understand me

Exhibit B: understanding that she’s worth something to others besides her utility abilities, and knowing that she has friends who’ll support her despite her flaws (which is very true);

When things are feeling hard, the first thing you should do is call me, okay? I’ll take the wings of love and purity, spread them, and get there as fast as I can Ah, I’ll open up any gate I need to

Exhibit C: indulging in her capacity for helping and supporting others;

Al mal tiempo, buena cara We laugh exactly when things are hard

Exhibit D: understanding the strength to get through hard times, instead of emotionally crumbling under the pressure.

Yep, that’s exactly what her character arc in 02 was about; 02 episode 31 was a huge turning point for her because, in the depths of her berating herself for her messiness and expecting Hikari to be secretly judging her the whole time, Hikari revealed that she was outright jealous of Miyako being able to speak her mind, and Miyako shortly after ended up showing her true capacity for reaching others who needed her help and supporting them, a role she ended up growing into for the rest of the series. Note that, other than the casual remark of confidence at the beginning, Miyako hasn’t necessarily become arrogant or anything – it’s just that, by focusing her energies into how much she loves everyone and turning her “nosiness” and “sticking herself into others’ business” tendencies into positive energy to help everyone, she gained more confidence in her ability to be loved and accepted by others.

This is reflected as well in her new duet with Hawkmon, where, instead of Hawkmon dragging her around everywhere, their differences and mismatched personalities are outright celebrated, and while Miyako still has awareness of her messy tendencies, she’s no longer letting it emotionally rip her apart and has confidence that Hawkmon can be by her side to help her through it. Perhaps reflecting that, Hawkmon himself goes from the over-the-top, dramatic, high-strung Knight of Love to the more calm and straightforward Gentle Tornado, perhaps because his own partner isn’t constantly bouncing off the walls recklessly nearly as much anymore.

Incidentally, it’s not like all of this is without nuance, either; even if Miyako’s become more of a confident person, she’s not all put-together. Considering that the entire song has her gushing about how she’d be willing to drop anything to go see her friends (which was pushed forward in Kizuna itself, what with her willingly taking the same request she’d refused to do earlier just because her friends were involved, and even inventing D-3 gate exploitation just to go see them), when you get to the end, and her gushing about her fun in Spain suddenly derails into reminiscing about the events of 02 episode 42, the implication is clear: for as much as she wants to be wholeheartedly enjoying this fun trip abroad for what it is, she can’t help but let her thoughts float back to memories and friends she cares about, and her bonus conversation with Hawkmon drives it in further that, ultimately, she dearly misses them too much.

Iori and Armadimon

Iori also went through some drastic changes in character over the course of 02, so when you look at My Conclusion, it’s basically Iori at his “worst” point of black-and-white morality:

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Evil will not be tolerated Even evil in itself will be defeated by justice That will always be a certainty in the end

I mean, let’s even consider the fact that the song is called “My Conclusion” in the first place. Iori’s slamming this all down like this is the end-all of everything, and you can’t change his mind! He does briefly admit that there are certain things reason itself won’t change, but it’s more like he’s on the verge of having an out, because in the end, really…

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Our enemies are beyond reason Again and again, to the very end They will certainly use cowardly means to come and attack us

Rationality. No feelings involved. Evil is evil, and justice is justice. No takebacks. Life exists by rules, and nothing else.

Message to the Future is possibly one of the most interesting songs in the original Best Partner collection, because it does actually provide hints about where Iori should be going in the future, and also has a lot of things that retroactively hit a lot harder from the meta perspective. The song fully fleshes out Iori’s feelings and concerns about how to grow up into a proper adult (which was hinted to be his real motivation as to why he was so strict with himself in 02), and that, most of all, what he wants is for his “feelings” to never change no matter what happens. Iori expresses concerns about how he might change as an adult to Armadimon, and Armadimon assures him that he’ll still be “Iori”, no matter what.

So, come the new character song collection, Iori’s new solo song is aptly titled “Things That Won’t Change” – because, in the end, despite everything that changed, his feelings did not. He says it himself: the important parts that he really wanted, the desire to do the right thing and to protect others, never changed a bit at all since “back then”. What did change, however, was his way of going about it.

Rather than what someone else has decided I’ve chosen my own future now

and again:

Rather than imitating someone else This is to shout out my own future

The emphasis on this being Iori’s own choice is important because Iori has finally decided not to live by strict rules imposed on him nor by imitating others (remember, part of the reason he kept doing what he did back in 02 was because he had such a strong belief “my father would have done this”). Others had been encouraging him to “make his own decisions” from the get-go – even Hida Chikara himself had told him that he was the one who needed to decide what to do in any moment in 02 episode 5 – and after dealing with a violation of his own morals in having to kill a Digimon in 02 episode 44, one episode later, in discussing with Takeru, Iori has to come to terms with the decision to continue fighting because “this is what I have decided myself”, because it’s not about whether he has an obligation to keep fighting for the sake of justice, but because he, himself, wants to protect others, and will do what it takes to do so. There’s no more of these strict rules of “because it must be this way” or the black-and-white morality that caused him to be so initially hostile towards Ken and Oikawa, but an understanding that these things need to be decided from the heart.

Moreover, unlike My Conclusion, Things That Won’t Change isn’t written like Iori’s turning in some school essay, but rather, more than half the song is in casual-form Japanese (which was associated with Iori when he became more emotional and wasn’t keeping himself in check anymore), and is more of a thoughtful reflection of his own feelings rather than trying to pass itself off as following rules because he must.

Thus, while the duet Choo Choo Tryin’ isn’t as heavy-handed as Message to the Future, Iori and Armadimon acknowledge that they need to be forward-thinking and keep going (generally tied to the message of 02 in itself), and Iori outright discusses the potential pitfalls of becoming too stiff. Furthermore, the song has copious rap portions, which seems rather unfitting for Iori on its face – until you realize that not only was Iori sometimes willing to indulge in more fun even back during 02 (just because he was strict with himself didn’t mean he was a complete killjoy), Iori’s also just a lot more flexible-minded in general, and has a penchant for wanting to do things right when he’s given a task. (His delivery of the rap in the song isn’t monotonous nor overly emotional, but has the nuance of someone who’s trying to recite all of it with caution.)

The part that’s particularly striking from the meta perspective is that Iori and Armadimon are no longer voiced by the same voice actress; Message to the Future was essentially Urawa Megumi talking to herself. So now, Iori has a new voice actor, and in many ways has become very different from Armadimon – but because Armadimon sounds a little like Iori, you could say he’s helping preserve the childish side of Iori that’s more important than ever to hold onto, especially since Iori himself worried about changing too much. And so, Iori’s still willing to indulge in a sort of “fun” song like this, and in the end, despite everything, you understand that they haven’t drifted apart at all in the slightest.

That’s not to say that Armadimon himself hasn’t changed either – in fact, he’s changed himself in response to how much Iori has. His original solo song had a lot of easygoingness to it, and some constant reminders for Iori to please, please chill – but his new one has a much stronger sense of resolve and forward-thinking attitude, reflecting that, while Iori himself technically had to learn to embrace more emotional uncertainty through the events of 02, it was also able to give him much stronger resolve that this was something he was doing because he was emotionally prepared for it, not out of some sense of moral obligation.

Takeru and Patamon

I’ve already covered Takeru’s original Best Partner song Focus and how it’s probably not about shipping as much as the fanbase tends to pin it as, but in any case, the operative part is here:

Before I knew it, I was watching over you Still standing at a skewed angle from behind The focus of your heart I wonder, is it on me, or… No, I can’t ask

Takeru couldn’t bring himself to ask sensitive questions or be straightforward about his emotions – which is basically what was Takeru’s lingering problem over Adventure and 02, that he kept swerving around or even lying about sensitive topics and holding everything inside, until one of his triggers was hit and everything exploded. Therefore, even when an important question about someone else comes up, he “can’t ask”. Moreover, for all Takeru is known as a lighthearted and kind person, Focus is a really turbulent song with a really harsh arrangement, and it’s a pretty accurate view of all the complicated and sometimes even negative emotions that Takeru was (badly) coping with over the course of 02.

This was the whole issue with Takeru and Iori’s Jogress arc in 02 episodes 34-36 – that Iori felt he couldn’t understand nor communicate well with Takeru, and had to eventually take matters into his own hands in order to properly understand his feelings. Takeru’s further interactions with Iori were significantly more straightforward for the rest of the series, and the experience also led to Takeru being able to more openly communicate with Ken as well, since the two had been on awkward speaking terms for most of the third quarter of the series.

So when we get to Step High Step…

You lament, you don’t have confidence in yourself I’m saying this to you as I’ve been watching you You’re amazing at all times

The song features Takeru being fairly straightforward about his feelings and opinions instead of just dodging it and going for an “everything’s okay” keeping-the-peace attitude, and not only that, he’s commenting on someone else, something that he probably would have refrained from in 02 for being intrusive. Of course, Takeru was always a nice person, but he wasn’t exactly straightforward about being nice back then – and yet here we are.

Since Focus is probably about his relationship with Patamon and how he kind of wasn’t exactly straightforward about his worries with him either (see 02 episode 34), it’s also interesting to compare Takeru and Patamon’s duet songs as well. Steppin’ out does portray a progression from Adventure in that they’ve accepted they can “do things over” again after things crash down (presumably referring to Angemon’s death and rebirth), but you’ll notice there isn’t much in the way of actual communciation between the two – something that’s not only present in Le Lien, but also portrays them as outright in-sync to the point of “telepathy”. We’re talking about a pair where the fanbase has historically had doubts about how similar they were back in 02 because of how “mismatched” they seemed!

Which, incidentally, they weren’t actually – you can see Patamon pretending he’s not about to cry in his original Best Partner song Don’t Stop Pata-Pata, much like how Takeru would cover up his own emotions, and gritting his teeth and resolving to fight harder. Meanwhile, while Ring of Smiles ostensibly continues to have Patamon be “sweet and cute”, it contains a lot of important nuances of “appreciating daily life with friends”, even if Patamon himself can’t quite find words for it – in other words, it’s actually some rather insightful and thoughtful sentiments from Patamon about the importance of being with and connecting with others, mirroring what Takeru himself learned in connecting with the others around him, especially Iori.

Hikari and Tailmon

Remember, Hikari has two lines (one in Adventure and one in 02) that basically summarize the main “issue” she was dealing with in both series: she was selfless to unhealthy levels, and would prioritize others’ welfare over herself to the point of self-destruction. So in her original solo Best Partner song, Gentle Rain, she puts it pretty explicitly:

I want to always be wearing nothing but smiles But I can’t be cheerful all of the time

or:

So that I can become a greater version of myself Please give me strength

All things considered, Gentle Rain is full of Hikari’s own insecurities, and her belief that she doesn’t have enough strength to do anything for herself. She makes references to being pulled to the Dark Ocean, mainly because – as she says – she doesn’t want to go there, but she doesn’t have enough strength or willpower to resist it. In fact, Best Partner 11 is full of a lot of angst; Gentle Rain is Hikari angsting about her own weakness and inability to do much for herself, Getting up is Tailmon angsting about her painful past and everything to do with it, and Shining Star is basically a plea for both of them to be able to do anything despite all the pain. It’s all pretty severely heavy content, despite the initial sparkly-looking sentiment of it all.

Considering the circumstances, it’s not really all that surprising. Hikari spent her time in Adventure and the first half of 02 very “emotionally isolated” from the others, to the point very few people could understand what she was thinking, and while she’d never hesitate to put herself out for other people, anything to do with herself, like getting pulled to the Dark Ocean, would result in resignation “it’s over” and “I can’t do anything about it”. Tailmon came from the background of being effectively raised by the abusive Vamdemon, so 02 was really only part of the earliest portion of her moving on with her life and being able to spend happier moments with Hikari. But, of course, the real turning point was 02 episode 31, when Miyako finally managed to break through to her and convince her to not accept the inevitability of things happening to herself, to accept help with the support of others, and to not take things happening to her as a sign she’s doomed.

So when we reach Hikari’s new solo song, Tomorrow’s Blue…

I want to chase after my dreams and hopes, it’s fine even if they’re incomplete I won’t lose, I won’t stop, I’ll do this to stay true to myself

The most striking thing about the song is that it features Hikari assertively talking about her own desires and feelings, when back in 02 she basically tried to kick them out of the picture for the sake of everyone else (and, really, even in Tailmon’s new solo song, Tender tale, she outright calls Hikari out for still prioritizing other people over herself). It’s not demeaning herself, it’s not resigning herself to anything, it may have a slight admission that she’s not super-confident about everything yet, but it’s still her looking forward and choosing to pursue what he wants. It’s a big deal!

And instead of the constant angst that permeated Best Partner 11, the new album is about Hikari and Tailmon talking about their feelings towards each other – something that neither of them really verbalized that well over either Adventure and 02 – and contextualizing their importance to each other over the course of their “story”. Hikari talks about Tailmon’s role of assertiveness in helping her break out of her shell, and Tailmon generally provides an extremely accurate description of Hikari in a nutshell – that she’s a bit mysterious, that she’s emotionally sensitive, that she’s cheerful and lifts others’ spirits. What’s more, Tailmon makes a reference to the same kind of “pain” and “losing things” she referred to in Getting up, but instead of angsting about it, she positively accepts it as something that may happen in the process of protecting others. (Oh, and it and the new duet A Tale of the Light also make reference to Hikari’s photography hobby in 02, contextualizing it as something Hikari did to chronicle their precious memories.)

So in summary, Hikari and Tailmon have both been able to accept 02′s philosophy of becoming forward-thinking, positive, and accepting the help of others in order to move forward. Not bad!

Conclusion and digression

Despite how these songs are almost polar opposite in portraying their before-and-after development of the 02 kids, nobody’s really argued that any of them are out of character! In the end, it’s a pretty succinct depiction of what these kids were dealing with and what they grew into by the end of the series. Seriously, I never, ever want to hear that these kids were underdeveloped nor that they didn’t go through any significant development over the course of 02 ever again. That’s just not true at all, and this simply happens to be one of the many illustrations of how.

Moreover, the songs themselves and the “conversations” that came with the new albums solidify firmly that the 02 group has extremely tight relations with their partners even at this time – with Daisuke actively consulting V-mon for help, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari actively dragging their partners everywhere with them, Ken having Wormmon be his effective alarm clock, and Iori being so close with Armadimon that his Nagoya dialect is rubbing off on him. Daisuke, Miyako and Hikari have a huge point made that, regardless of the rather easygoing way they’re going at it, they’re very aware of what they want to do from this point out and are following it with gusto (and while it’s not stated in words, Iori carrying a huge textbook, presumably a law one, with note markers all over it drives the point home that this applies to him, too). It’s a really, really huge contrast to what was going on with the directionless Taichi, Yamato, and Sora effectively neglecting their own partners back in Kizuna – and further reinforces the reason the 02 group was in such an unusually favorable position during the movie.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

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iceeckos12 · 4 years ago

Text

time travel snippet

little time travel au oneshot. season 5 jon travels back in time to season 1. from the perspectives of tim, martin, and sasha. 3.5k.

i dont think i need to tag anything, but please let me know otherwise.

Tim wakes up that morning, and it’s just like any other day.

Well—no, okay, that’s a bit misleading. Today is his first day working as an archival assistant, so he’s one part nervous, one part that breathless, exhilarated feeling you only get when you’re about to do something unfamiliar that may or may not redefine your life for the foreseeable future. When he says “it’s just like any other day”, he means that he wakes up, and he’s a normal person doing normal people things like eating a healthy breakfast and going to work.

(So, no. In short, he doesn’t realize that today is the day when It happens, that big, life-changing event that you think will Never Happen To You.)

He gets out of bed, stumbles into the bathroom. Washes his face of whatever residue that’d built up during the night, tries to scrape away the evidence of his nightmares, smiles big and bright at the mirror to see how successful his efforts were. He’s betrayed by the traitorous bags beneath his eyes, but that’s okay. Sasha taught him how to wield concealer as a shield whenever his past wore down his armor.

He shoots twin finger guns into his reflection, making soft pew, pew! noises that are almost too-loud in the hush of the bathroom. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, sauntering and humming along with the chorus of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.

He gets to the Institute twenty minutes before he’s supposed to—not because he’s trying to impress his boss or whatever (he and Jon have known each other long enough that there’s no point). It’s just, Jon will probably want to make some sort of game-plan before the actual workday starts.

The poor man had been relieved to an almost comical degree when Tim had said yes, I’ll come with you to the Archives. It’s painfully obvious how out-of-his-depth Jon is with the whole “Head Archivist” thing. Tim’s honestly baffled as to why Elias had singled him out for the position in the first place, considering his lack of qualifications.

But, whatever. It’s fine! Tim and Sasha will be there to help him—although the third assistant is a bit of a problem, considering that they know absolutely nothing about him. There’s no guarantee that this Martin Blackwood won’t report inadequacies or mistakes back to Elias. If that’s the case, Tim and Sasha will have to be Jon’s safety net, which is partially why Tim is hoping to talk to Jon before anyone else gets there.

He also wants to talk to Jon because he just knows the man is probably working himself up over all of this. Maybe reassurances won’t do away with the source of anxiety entirely, but at least it’ll remind Jon that he’s not alone, and that he can count on Tim and Sasha.

As expected, when Tim gets there he can see a sliver of light pouring out from the cracked door of the Head Archivist’s office. He selects a desk and sets his bag on top of it, noting a set of strange gouges in the fake wood with a raised eyebrow, and then an internal shrug. The Institute issued laptop is near the far edge of his desk, and his collection of pictures are strategically placed so that he can see them all clearly.

His eyes linger over the image of him, his mother, and his brother. Their smiles are almost perfect replicas of each other, like someone took a mold of one of their faces and recreated it twice over.

Briefly, he closes his eyes. Then he shakes himself, releases a slow, steadying breath, and goes to check on Jon.

Tim’s not sure what he’s expecting to see when he goes into Jon’s office.

(That’s misleading too, though. He’s not sure if Jon will be visibly calm or upset, if he’ll be on his laptop, if he’ll be picking at the skin around his fingernails, as he so often does when he’s stressed. He is expecting Jon as he is and always has been—a twenty-some year old going on sixty, who wraps his gruff, grumpy demeanor about himself to protect the soft, vulnerable core he likes to pretend doesn’t exist.)

He comes up to the door, and the soft rectangle of light that emanates from beneath the door paints the tips of his shoes gold. “Jon?” he calls softly, rapping his knuckles against the frame. There’s a soft rustling noise—papers maybe? but no audible response, so he shrugs and pushes the door open. “I’m coming in.”

Tim steps inside, a quip instinctively readying itself on his tongue—but then his gaze lands on Jon, and he freezes dead in his tracks.

Even years later, he still vividly, viscerally remembers the moment he saw Danny standing on the stage underneath the Royal Opera House, the way he’d looked...not quite right. The wrongness had been subtle, so much so that it had been unnoticeable upon first glance, upon second glance. The longer Tim had looked though, the more obvious it had become, exposing all the little faults in that almost-perfect recreation of his brother.

Looking at Jon now, it’s the first and only thing he can think of. Because—yes, there’s the long, silver-streaked black hair, there’s the rich brown eyes, there’s the pair of spectacles that make him look far older than he actually is. But that’s where the similarities between the Jon he knows and this Jon end.

Jon’s always been a small man, but his feigned haughtiness makes him seem much bigger than he actually is. Except—except this Jon looks smaller somehow, his shoulders curved protectively inward, like he’s trying to present less of a target. And there’s something about his face, too—his expression is too sharp, too much—

But the worst of it is his eyes. There’s something very wrong with his eyes.

Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Jon? He doesn’t say it out loud though, just keeps staring at Jon, a heady mix of terror and horror making any sort of reaction impossible.

After a moment Jon’s lips thin, contorted by some distant cousin of displeasure, and he rises to his feet. Tim stumbles instinctively backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp gasp that’s immediately swallowed up by the apathetic stacks of books and papers surrounding them. He’s struck by the fact that if he dies here, it’s unlikely anyone will notice; he’ll become just another set of marks gouged into the desk, willed away with an uneasy shrug.

Jon freezes, lips parting subtly, as though he were about to speak. Tim feels his breath catch in his chest, unable to shake himself out of the clouded stupor his mind has fallen into.

In the end, Jon says nothing. Just releases a long, slow breath of air and sits back down, pushing his chair close to his desk. The motion looks heavy, tired, as though it takes far more energy than it should.

“You—you should go,” Jon rasps, and there’s something off about his voice too, though Tim can’t put his finger on why. He can’t cobble together enough of a train of thought to make sense of any of this, all he can think of is that clown ripping Danny apart—

He stumbles out of Jon’s office, sits down at his desk. Stares down at the cheap, fake wood, at the gouges that have marred the otherwise pristine surface. Puts his head in his hands, and tries to will his heart to stop pounding in his chest.

-0-

Martin’s heard things about Jonathan Sims.

He’s not usually the type to pay attention or encourage gossip, as the vivid memories of his classmates tittering cruelly whenever he walked by still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.The problem with the Institute is that the employees get bored pretty easily. Though most would consider academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal to be fairly interesting, it’s still academic research. And the subject content can get to be a bit...repetitive. There’s only so many gruesome statements you can read without thinking, oh great, more meat.

So the employees gossip a lot, and while Martin usually tries to keep his head down and avoid it, it’s difficult not to overhear some things. And from what little he’s heard, he’s...a bit concerned. Rude and unsociable has frequently been mentioned, as have arrogant and unnecessarily finicky, and worst of all, a bit of a stuck-up know-it-all.

Normally he tries not to put too much stock in office gossip—he’s well aware that the grapevine tends to exaggerate one’s most undesirable traits—but if any of it is true, then he might just be in trouble. It was hard enough being a library employee when his boss wasn’t even paying attention most of the time. If Jon is as exacting as they say, it might be enough to expose the fact that Martin has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. And if that happens, then he might get fired, and he can’t get fired, he needs this job, he can barely keep up with his mum’s medical bills as it is—

Calm down, Martin tells himself firmly, pressing his hand against his sternum, as though that will be enough to quell the rising panic. It’s only your first day. Maybe he’s nice, and we’ll actually be good friends.

(With his luck? Yeah, right.)

The Institute looms in the distance, growing closer with every terrified, grudging footstep. A shiver runs up his spine at the sight of its imposing presence, a dark, ugly blot of a building against the backdrop of the iron grey clouds.

If there’s one thing he’s good at though, it’s keeping his head down and muddling through until he’s able to figure out what is actually expected of him. He can twist and fold himself into whatever role they need him to fill, as he has done so many times in the past. Not easily perhaps, but he has always managed. The alternative is untenable, after all.

So he takes a deep breath, and shoves his panic down as deep as possible. Lifts his head and forces a smile onto his face, like a good attitude will be enough to protect him from his boss’s wrath.

He could really do with a cup of tea.

Martin trudges down the stairs, giving the blank walls, the old-fashioned carpet, a dubious look as he does. The Archives themselves are as he remembers it—he’s been down here a couple of times when Gertrude made a request for something specific, but—

He pauses when he notices a man sitting at one of the desks, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders aren’t shaking and his breathing is even, so Martin doesn’t think that he’s crying? He’s just….sitting there, his stillness so perfect it’s almost inhuman.

“Hello?” Martin calls softly, cautiously, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.

The man looks up, revealing a very handsome face and brown eyes so dark they may as well be black. His cheeks are dry but his eyes are bright and a little wild, and his mouth is pressed into a small, tight line. He doesn’t speak, just keeps watching, blinking dazedly in Martin’s direction. Martin gets the feeling that this person isn’t entirely there at the moment, like a house in which every room is lit, but there are no people inside.

He swallows and shifts nervously back and forth, trying to decide whether or not to call for some backup. Eventually he sets his bag on the floor and shuffles a bit closer. “Um—are you—is everything okay?”

The man blinks rapidly, some semblance of awareness creeping back into his gaze. He shakes his head slowly, pushes his short, gelled hair back from his head. His hands are trembling. “I’m...yeah, I’m fine. It’s—everything’s, it’s…”

But then his gaze lands on something over Martin’s shoulder, and all the color drains out of his face, his mouth shutting with a painful sounding click. Martin quickly spins around, searching for whatever could’ve scared him so much—

There’s someone standing in the doorway of Gertrude’s office.

There are so many things that one normally takes in upon first meeting another person: their hair, their skin color, all the little wrinkles and marks that give you the briefest insight into their life. Martin looks at posture first, tends to check if a person is intentionally looming, or if they’re making themself smaller.

But all Martin can see are the eyes.

There’s—two of them he thinks, but two is such an arbitrary number when the thing you’re applying it to doesn’t ascribe to human values (he’s not sure how he knows that—how does he know that—?). That horrible, terrible gaze is an unerring arrow, all-encompassing, all-consuming, piercing the deepest corners of his mind. It hurts in some distant, nebulous way he’s not even sure he comprehends—

Then he blinks, and the sheer terror, that feeling of the horrible, violating exposure of everything that he is, abruptly snuffs out. What’s left is just a person, wispy and small, his slight frame fairly drowning in a chunky, cable-knit jumper. He’s leaning against his doorframe, his eyes—two big brown ones, rich and unfathomably sad and more than that, human—drinking Martin in, his lips parted in a soundless gasp.

“Um—” Martin glances over his shoulder, and almost leaps out of his skin when a land falls heavily on his shoulder. The man who’d been sitting in the chair is standing just behind him, a strained but polite smile on his face.

“Hi Jon,” the man says, an undercurrent of a warning in his voice.

Martin glances between the two, his confusion growing with every passing moment. This is not what he was expecting when he first came into work today, and the uncertainty makes him feel strange and off-kilter.

The person in the door swallows once, twice, then straightens, one hand still gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. When he speaks, his voice is soft, tentative, a little ragged around the edges. “Tim. It’s, um...it’s good to see you.”

“Martin Blackwood, was it?” Tim continues, injecting a bit of cheer into his voice. It takes Martin a moment to realize that he’s being addressed, and he shoots Jon—this is Jonathan Sims?—an uncertain look before nodding slowly. “We’re happy to have you on the team.”

“O-Oh?” Martin squeaks, then grits his teeth and bodily forces his voice back into its normal range. “I’m��um, I’m happy to be here?”

“Good,” Tim says through a grin that looks more like a grimace, giving Martin’s shoulder a friendly pat. The look he shoots Jon is a dark, mistrustful thing. The look Jon gives him back is fragile, vulnerable, that winds the tension in Tim’s shoulders so tight it has to be painful.

Jon’s gaze flickers to Martin, just for a second—and then he disappears into his office, leaving the door cracked behind him.

Tim and Martin stand there for a second, staring at the door. Tim’s still tense as a bowstring, and his grip on Martin’s shoulder is almost uncomfortable. The air in the Archives feels stuffy and too warm, and there’s a strange prickling sensation on the back of Martin’s neck, like he’s being subjected to close scrutiny.

Then Tim sighs and lets go of Martin’s shoulder, a little of the tension bleeding out of him, and without it he looks small, deflated. He goes back to his desk and sits down, booting up his laptop without a word of explanation to Martin.

Martin stares at the back of Tim’s head for a moment, a number of questions clamoring around in his brain—what the fuck was that? What’s wrong with Jon? Why are you so obviously suspicious of him?—but the words won’t come. Breaking the silence feels...sacrilegious, somehow. Every breath of air sticks against the back of his throat.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything either, just sits at his desk and takes out his Institute-issued laptop. Stares blankly at the screen as the machine slowly, laboriously, comes to life.

-0-

Sasha’s not entirely sure how to interpret the tense atmosphere that has descended over the Archives.

The first day she’d arrived a couple of minutes before she was supposed to, prepared to follow Jon’s direction and help him adjust as best she could. (Her feelings about Jon’s promotion...didn’t matter. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his fault that Elias was an old-fashioned misogynist.)

But when she’d come down the stairs, Tim and the assistant she didn’t know, Martin, had been seated quietly at their desks. They’d both had the same distant, shell-shocked look on their faces, like they’d received some shattering, horrible news. Sasha had sent Tim a confused look, but he either hadn’t noticed it, or hadn’t wanted to explain.

She hadn’t even seen Jon that first day, just received a polite email asking her to start organizing the statements according to the system which he’d devised.

It’s been almost three days, and nothing has changed. Oh sure, they’ve all started organizing the statements as directed. Tim cracks jokes, Martin tiptoes around them and makes copious amounts of tea. That strange tension that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like the world is holding its breath in anticipation, hasn’t faded though. And while she doesn’t know Martin all that well, she knows that something’s still up with Tim. He seems more subdued than usual, keeps sending uncomfortable looks in the direction of Jon’s office—

—which hasn’t been open since that first day. She hasn’t seen Jon at all either, no matter how early she arrives or how late she stays. The only proof she has that he’s still alive is the polite email she periodically receives, detailing some specific task that he wants for them to do.

Even then, his emails are...odd. She’s not sure how she can tell, but they feel...awkward? Stilted? Like he’s only half-aware of what he’s typing, or like he’s only asking them to do things because he feels like he should, not because he has any actual goal in mind.

Normally she’d be frustrated by this, would complain bitterly to Tim about Elias passing over her for someone who obviously doesn’t properly appreciate the position they’ve been given—except that she knows Jon. He’d made a point to explain the situation to her himself, an apologetic twist tucked into the corner of his mouth. More than that, he’d asked her to follow him to the archives, saying that he wanted the two people he trusted most, her and Tim, to come with him.

He respects her too much not to take this job seriously.

The strangeness of the archives is only emphasized by Jon’s complete and utter lack of presence within it, but she doesn’t—she doesn’t buy that. She doesn’t believe that he’d just suddenly decide not to do the job he’d been so anxious to excel at.

More damning than anything is Tim’s complete, utter silence regarding Jon’s strange behavior, but whatever he knows about it, he isn’t saying anything. Martin is willing to talk, but he seems to be as lost as she is.

“I—that first day, Jon…” Martin shrugs, shooting a nervous glance toward the door leading to the archives. He’s been spending a lot of time hovering in the break room making tea, not that she can blame him. “He—I mean obviously I don’t know him very well, but he seemed...upset?”

“Upset,” Sasha repeats dubiously.

Martin lets out an exhausted sigh and turns away, waving a dismissive hand. “Look, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it. He just—okay, so, bear with me for a second, but he reminded me of this guy who used to live in my neighborhood.”

Sasha backs off, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Okay?”

“There was this little old couple that used to live in my neighborhood. They were—they were really sweet! The husband used to give candy to us younger kids. But um—sometimes you’d see him sitting in the rocking chair on his porch, and it was like...he wasn’t entirely there? Like, he’d just sit there for hours, rocking and staring at nothing. That’s—that’s what Jon’s expression reminded me of.”

Martin gets more animated the more he talks, Sasha notes; his hands move in broad, sweeping gestures, his expression twisting into an expression of extreme concentration. The moment he finishes he deflates again, tucking his hands into his armpits self-consciously, a hedgehog curling protectively in on itself.

“So, yeah,” he finishes eloquently.

“Huh,” Sasha says thoughtfully.

She gets back to her desk. Looks over at Tim, who’s studiously working through a box of statements, his mouth set in a neutral, concentrated frown. Takes a deep breath, letting the taste of dust and old papers sit heavy on her tongue.

Then she opens her laptop and starts looking through the catalog of cursed items that are currently being held in Artifact Storage.

(She doesn’t think that she’ll find anything, but—but just in case.)

-0-

They all get the call the next Monday morning: Elias Bouchard was found dead in his office.

#tma #iceeckos12 writes #my writing #just a little time travel au #probably wont continue this but i thought it was kinda fun

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kiki-shortsnout · 3 years ago

Note

Are you still accepting prompt? Maybe 48 offering the other a coat for strangfrost? >///<

The impact sent jolts of pain shuddering into his shins, his foot falling forward to stop his momentum, unwilling to give his brother the satisfaction of seeing him fall on his face. Loki spun in a circle, tossing his head to try and clear the hair from his face, the pelting rain insistent on sticking it to his skin.

‘Brother, you’ve gone too far this time,’ Loki growled, ripping his boot free of the squelching mud holding it captive. One of these days he would be successful in his endeavor to win a bet against Thor, but luck was not smiling on him today. His punishment was to spend an allocated amount of time in a place of the victors choosing, and despite Loki spinning the most beautiful of lies to convince Thor he detested the magnificent forests of the Vanir, his brother had seen through them.

He was stuck on the repugnant planet of Midgard, filled with its beings of monotony, unrefined creatures who held the same stature in Loki’s mind of the cattle they ate on Asgard. Needed, but imbecilic.

Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself, looking around for a shelter of some sort. Freeing his foot, he plodded forwards, swearing profusely at the low-lying branches swatting him across his face, spiky foliage catching on his cape and clothes, cutting into the skin of his hand and leaving paper-thin lines of fire.

What a wretched planet. He’d never understood why others held it in such regard, why they were fascinated by these absurd Midgardians.

Despite his muttered curses directed at Thor and the incessant howling of the wind chilling him to the bone, Loki stopped as he thought he heard a sound, straining his ears as he tried to hear it again.

Nothing.

‘It’s a trick of the wind,’ Loki muttered, wrapping his cape tight around himself as he glared up at the stormy sky. As he lifted his foot free again, he heard the same noise, the unmistakable sound of sorrow. Changing course, he only needed to take a few more steps before he saw what it was making the sounds.

It was a child.

Huddled against the cold, his soaking wet hair was plastered to his skull, frail, bare arms wrapped around his knees.

It is of no consequence to me, Loki thought, turning to leave.

A feeling held him still, a wrenching beneath his breastbone. There was a familiarity in the posture, a recognition as he stared through the deluge at him. It was as though he was looking at a reflection of himself, huddled against the wall in his chambers, lonely and sobbing.

The child flinched as he drew close, and Loki lifted his hands, showing he was unarmed and honorable.

‘Are you injured?’ Loki asked, taking a few cautious steps closer to the tree the boy sat beneath, noticing it offered some shelter from the rainstorm.

The small boy shook his head, sniffling and rubbing his nose against his sleeve, smearing mucus.

Delightful.

‘Are you lost? Do you need help?’ Loki tried instead, standing beside the boy, clasping his hands behind his back.

He didn’t receive an answer, the child burrowing his head closer to his knees. Leaning against the tree, the rough fibers of the bark biting against his palms, Loki looked up at the raindrops catching on the vibrant green leaves above, before looking at the ruffling of the grass at his feet.

‘Well, I suppose there are worse places to spend a lost bet. My brother and I, we are forever playing pranks on each other, and I have yet to win. Do you have any siblings?’

Silence.

‘It drives our parents mad, especially our father, although, I excel at making father angry,’ Loki encouraged, watching the child subtly for any outward reaction.

‘I hate him,’ the boy whispered finally.

‘Ah, he speaks,’ Loki teased, unclasping his cape from his neck and draping it over the boy, offering some protection. ‘What is your name young one?’

‘Stephen.’

He peeked up then, his eyes striking Loki straight in the gut, making him crouch down to see better. They were magnificent, appearing to be aquamarine from a first glance, but looking now they appeared to be the pale blue of ice, a ring of green fire around the pupil.

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Loki, God of Mischief,’ he told Stephen, offering his hand. It was taken by the tiny hand, his touch chilled, the edges of his lips blue. ‘Do you need help getting back home?’

‘No, I know how to get home, I just…I don’t want to be near him,’ Stephen spat, tugging Loki’s cape closer, shivering.

‘Are you in danger? Who is it you speak of?’ Loki asked, stretching his hands forward. When no resistance was met, he ran them up and down Stephen’s arms, creating warmth through the friction between their skin.

‘My dad, we had a fight,’ Stephen said.

‘Ah, fathers are complicated creatures,’ Loki said in understanding.

‘You don’t like yours either?’ Stephen asked, looking up with him with a child’s naivety, no hint of scorn or distrust as Loki was so used to seeing.

‘More like he does not like me,’ he answered.

‘I want to become a doctor, so that means I have to work hard at school. I placed first in my class during the last test we had, but he… got mad when I showed him, told me to forget it, that I’m going to be taking over the farm. He said I was arrogant, that I acted like I was too good for my family.’ Stephen turned his head and Loki saw the hint of red on his cheek, recognized the sting of a father’s slap.

Loki didn’t know how much longer he had on this planet, how he could reassure Stephen in such a short space of time, but he also knew he couldn’t allow the child to continue thinking those thoughts.

‘Becoming a healer is a worthy goal. Just because your father has envisioned a particular path for you does not mean you have to follow it. It will not be easy, and you will need to grasp hold of your courage, especially in your darkest days, but you can do it.’

‘How do you know? I’m not an adult yet,’ Stephen challenged, making Loki bite down a smile.

‘Ah, but I am, and I’m a great judge of character. You can do this, believe in yourself, because at times, nobody else will.’

Loki looked over his shoulder at the familiar energy of the Bifrost crackling.

‘I need to leave now I’m afraid.’ He considered suppressing Stephen’s memory of their meeting, but didn’t have the heart to as he saw the wonderment in this young mortal’s eyes at the rainbow-colored beam waiting. Stephen reached up to take the cape off, and Loki stopped him, his hand engulfing Stephen’s as he clasped it.

‘Take care, Stephen. I hope our paths cross again someday,’ Loki told him, knowing he would probably never see this young mortal again, but he still felt a connection, an understanding between one disappointing son to another.

***

Loki found a secluded part of the building to hide in, not wanting to draw attention to himself, especially after his last run in with the sorcerer had left him falling in some unknown dimension for thirty minutes.

He hadn’t known places like this existed on Midgard. Thor had returned after their father had left them, wanting advice from the sorcerer regarding the sister they never knew they had.

Loki found an unobtrusive corner, away from the artifacts exuding an interesting magical signature, away from the mortal in the blue robes who wouldn’t stop staring at him.

I love you, my sons.

After everything, everything Loki had done, invading Midgard, banishing Odin to New York, the part he had to play in his mother’s death, after all of that, Odin had told him the words he’d always been desperate to hear.

Anger, sadness, rage, grief, love, they writhed and twisted within him, misshapen intertwined emotions that he couldn’t make sense of, leaving him numb and empty.

Warmth settled on his shoulders, and he looked up, a ruby sentient cloak now waving at him as it kept him warm. Glancing up, he saw legs in his vision, and suddenly the face of the Midgardian second rate sorcerer was in his eye line.

‘What are you doing?’ Loki spat, trying to peel the cloak from his shoulders.

‘A long time ago, a God of Mischief offered a young boy his cape and some words of encouragement. They might have only been offhand, but they helped that child through a lot of his life, so today, he’s returning the favor.’

It couldn’t be.

Loki had been too angry to notice the mortal’s appearance before, but eyes didn’t lie, they never did, and as he gazed into Stephen’s eyes, he knew them to be the same of the small boy he’d met decades ago.

‘You’re…Stephen? Did you become a healer?’ Loki questioned, sitting straighter. Those eyes were still as beautiful as they had been in his youth, and now he took the time to appreciate the body he’d grown into, the slim muscles, the beautiful, chiseled face.

The Midgardian was gorgeous.

His appreciation wasn’t as subtle as he’d hoped. Stephen broke eye contact with a self-conscious cough, the barest hint of color on his cheeks.

‘I did, much to my father’s disappointment,’ Stephen told him, a wry twist to his lips.

‘How did you…’ he trailed off, gesturing to Stephen and then the building they were in, the magic thrumming around them.

‘An accident, the conclusion of my hubris,’ Stephen answered, offering his hands for Loki’s gaze, the grooves of painful jagged scars making him reach out to touch. Again, just like it had been all those years ago, an understanding was formed between them with very few words being said.

‘You left me falling for thirty minutes,’ Loki said, suddenly at a loss for words, taking Stephen’s hand in his.

‘I remembered a God of Mischief liked pranks, but it seems he mistook my playful tease as malicious intent,’ Stephen said with a crooked smile, stealing the breath from Loki’s lungs.

‘After this is over, after we stop our sister, I would like to get to know you better,’ Loki asked, already hearing Thor calling him to action.

‘I look forward to it,’ Stephen told him with a wink, his hand lingering in Loki’s. Before he could take it away, Loki brought it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, enamored by the blush on Stephen’s cheekbones.

‘Until we meet again then, Stephen.’

#froststrange #strangefrost #stephen strange #Loki #ask fic #Thank you for the ask #marvel mcu

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

hold you ‘til the morning comes

1.6k || ao3

Carlos has known nothing but fear since he first got the report that a firefighter had died in the line of duty. After hours of wondering, here TK was: very much alive, but far from okay. But Carlos is not going to let him suffer alone.

Inspired by the scene in the promo of Carlos comforting TK --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 7: Anything goes

This idea came to me while I was watching the promo and @officereyes, being the wonderful enabler she is, encouraged me to write it. I carefully avoided any mention of who dies so I could be right either way, but I have my theories. Anyways, enjoy some Carlos introspection as he worries about TK 💕

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When Carlos and Mya returned to the precinct, there was a tension hanging in the air.

At first, he ignores it, choosing instead to focus on the path to his desk and the prospect of sitting down. A volcano erupting in the center of the city had left everyone a little crazier than usual, and after a full shift on patrol, he wanted nothing more than to collapse at his desk and bury himself in paperwork for the remaining hour.

But as he and Mya headed to their adjoined desks, he could feel eyes on him.

“Am I imagining things, or are people staring?” he asked his partner under his breath.

Mya looked around and frowned. She paused in front of the desk diagonal to their own and stared down at its occupant, “What the hell is going on, Johnson?

Johnson, a young, quiet officer nearly jumped out of his skin at the mere prospect of being directly addressed by Mya. He swallowed nervously, glancing around the room before he responded as if hoping someone else would step in and save him. When no takers arose he swallowed again before speaking, “A report just came in. It...said that a firefighter died.”

Carlos froze mid stride, a cold dread seeping through his chest. He turned and faced Johnson, catching the worried gaze of his partner as he turned. He kept his voice as calm and steady as possible as he asked the question he desperately needed to know, “did it say which station?”

Johnson shook his head frantically, nearly vibrating out of his seat with anxiety in the weight of Carlos’s gaze, “no, sir.”

He felt Mya’s hand, warm and steady on his arm as she leaned closer, “there’s no saying it’s him, Carlos.”

He nodded, jaw tight, but didn’t voice what he was thinking: but there’s no saying it isn’t either.

Somehow his feet find their way to his desk where he sits, hyper aware of all the surreptitious glances thrown his way. It wasn’t just that it could be TK. It was that it could be Mateo or Judd, Paul or Marjan. It could be Owen, for all he knew. It could be any number of the members of the little family they had built for themselves in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, and Carlos didn’t want to lose any of them.

But it could be TK, and Carlos didn’t know how he was supposed to live with that.

The room was quiet and Carlos could feel more than one pair of eyes on him. He did his best to ignore them. He didn’t need their pity, and he had more than enough fear all on his own. He couldn’t really blame them though; in the months that he and TK had been together, his boyfriend had become known around the station. At first by virtue of being a fellow first responder himself, then later because he would stop by on days he was off to meet Carlos for lunch, or just to say hi. TK got on well with his coworkers, so he understood the heightened fear. They weren’t just worried for Carlos’s boyfriend, they were worried for their friend.

He ignored the whispers and Mya’s concerned gaze and pulled out his phone, hands trembling ever so slightly as he accessed his recent calls. He tapped on TK’s name and waited, each ring another spike of fear being driven into his soul. All too soon the automated voice of the voicemail sounded and Carlos ended the call, placing the phone on his desk without a word or a comment to anyone.

Not answering didn’t mean anything. TK often didn’t answer when he was on shift: it was hard to answer your phone when you’re scaling a building or doing whatever else the day might require.

Or that’s what Carlos told himself, at least.

He turned back to his paperwork, trying to bury himself in the routine, resisting the urge to check his phone every other second. The minutes tick by and soon his shift is over, but he can’t bring himself to leave. If he leaves and goes home to his empty condo, he might actually go crazy. So instead he stays, willing to trade off the unpaid overtime for the comforting monotony of paperwork.

At some point, he realizes that the desk in front of him is still occupied too. He looks up to find his partner sitting resolutely at her desk, shuffling through her own paperwork.

“Mya,” he began but she shook her head, effectively interrupting him.

“I go home when you go home,” she declared firmly. “I’m going to be here for you no matter what, so just get over it.”

Despite everything, he had to smile. “Okay,” he agreed, knowing when to admit defeat. He turned back to his paperwork, but not before checking his phone one more time. There were still no new messages, and he tried to ignore just how much further his heart sank each time.

He had just turned back to his paperwork when the sound of loud voices outside the room filter to his desk.

“They’re saying that fireman just ate it,” someone was saying, “he was dead before they could even get to him.”

Eyes all over the room turned to Carlos, some more subtly than others, and clenched his jaw, determined to keep his expression neutral.

“Carlos,” Mya began, already halfway out of her seat with the likely goal of telling whoever was talking to kindly shut the fuck up, but he shook his head.

“It’s fine Mya, I’m just going to step outside and try calling him again.”

She nodded and gave him a tight smile as he grabbed his phone and headed towards the back door. He opened it and stepped out onto the stairs, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air. It doesn’t fortify him as it usually does, but there is only one thing in the world that could make him feel better tonight.

The fear that he has been burying inside his chest all night is ready to burst but he pushes it down one more time. There’s still no saying it’s him, there’s still no saying that he has anything to fear at all. He pulls out his phone with shaking hands, ready to try again and already dreading the sound of his voicemail. He’s just about to dial when he sees someone at the bottom of the staircase. He frowns, pocketing his phone. This isn’t the public entrance to the precinct. Most people didn’t even know it existed. He was about to call down, to see what the strange figure wanted when they stepped into the yellow light of the floodlight and their features came into focus and suddenly Carlos couldn’t breathe.

He took the stairs two at a time, rushing down to TK, because it was TK. He was here, he was standing, and he was alive. He might just be the most beautiful thing Carlos had ever seen.

He called TK’s name as he rushed down and when his boyfriend looked up at him Carlos was struck by the sadness in his eyes even from a distance.

He slowed as he approached, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be unhurt, as far as Carlos could tell, but he looked smaller than Carlos had ever seen him.

He stopped short of pulling TK into his arms, though he wants to so desperately. He studies him up close first, before speaking, “There were reports saying a firefighter had died and you weren’t answering your phone. I...” he trailed off, not sure how to explain what he had spent the past few hours feeling and not wanting to burden TK any more with his own feelings when the other man was clearly drowning in the weight of his own.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

TK’s voice is too small and Carlos’s heart aches, “It’s fine,” he assures him, “I’m just happy you’re safe.”

He wants to ask what happened, he wants to ask all the questions echoing through his mind but TK is shaking and Carlos feels fear start to climb up his spine again, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” TK assures him, “I’m not hurt. I’m okay.”

As they stand on the stairwell and look at each other Carlos reflects that in all their time together, that might just be the biggest lie TK has ever told him. He steps forward, hesitantly at first but when TK makes no move to stop him he pulls him into his arms, sheltering his shaking body with his own. He can feel TK’s body sag into his, losing some of the tension. It’s only a moment before he can feel his shoulder getting wet as TK’s body quakes with silent sobs. He pulls them down so they are sitting on the stairs and gently rests his chin on the top of TK’s head, running a hand in soothing circles on his back.

His boyfriend is safe and he is beyond grateful. He wants to bask in the feeling of TK in his arms and the knowledge that he is safe, that he hadn’t lost him, but it feels selfish in the face of TK’s grief. He had lost someone today, and though Carlos doesn’t know the details, he understands. Whether or not it was someone from his station, whether or not it was someone from his team, the loss of any firefighter could feel like the loss of a family member. It could also serve as a reminder of what he stood to lose every day; that when the ones closest to you are the ones running into the fire beside you, there is so much more to risk.

Carlos would ask those questions later, he would help him through it, whatever it was. For now, they would just sit here, curled together in the stairway, savoring the warmth and existence of each other.

Everything else could wait, for now.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #911ls season 2 #my writing #carlosreyesweek2021 #userkimmy #userac #usermaximus #userjilly #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #jazzyjezz #aanathema

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bumblesimagines · 4 years ago

Text

The Oldest Pogue

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Btw some things might change but not drastically.

(Y/N) stood beside JJ, munching on a twinkie as he watched him toss rock.

"Thanks for sticking up for me." JJ mumbled, looking at him. (Y/N) nodded, giving a small smile.

"Of course, JJ." (Y/N) patted his hand before turning his head as John B started speaking.

"Look, I'm callin' it off, alright?" John B looked at them. "Peterkin said, if I stay out of the marsh, she'll help me with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ cocked a brow. (Y/N) gently nudged him. He knew Peterkin well. She was like a mother to him.

"Yes, I believe her, JJ."

"An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop." JJ tossed another rock. (Y/N) internally sighed. He knew JJ had a long history with cops and he knew a lot of the ones in the department just took the job to have power over people. It took a while for the group to trust (Y/N) cause of his father.

"How do we know he won't snitch?" JJ asked John B, not caring about being quiet. Kiara shot (Y/N) an apologetic smile. (Y/N) brushed her off. He stood, stepping outside and approaching them.

"Look, if I were you, I wouldn't trust me either. I don't mean any harm to you guys. You don't have to trust me right away and I don't expect it. Dad isn't using me to spy on you. I have free will to do whatever the fuck I want. I can help you guys if you get arrested by lowering the bail or convincing them to not arrest you at all." (Y/N) shrugged.

"John B and Pope are my friends. I'm not here to take your spot." (Y/N) shifted his gaze onto John B. "When's your dad getting home? I could start up dinner for everyone."

"All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple of days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun." John B said, tossing his beer to the side. JJ rolled his eyes.

"You know what we should have done, man? We should've let Topper drown your ass." JJ said, continuing to toss rocks.

"Yeah, like Topper was gonna drown me?" John B scoffed.

"Sure looked like it." JJ replied.

"That's funny."

"I mean have you looked in a mirror?" JJ got off the table, approaching everyone. (Y/N) took his spot, finishing his twinkie as he watched them.

"Come on, tell me some more. Come on." John B encouraged as JJ got closer.

"They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win! Goddamn!" JJ shook his head, walking away from them.

"Okay!" Kiara tried to defuse the situation but JJ whipped around. "No, it's not okay!"

"JJ.." (Y/N) sighed, walking towards him.

"No, (Y/N). They don't want us to go down into the marsh. That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." JJ said, pointed at John B, earning an eye roll.

"I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go." JJ pointed at Pope. "You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk." JJ shifted his attention onto Kiara.

"And you.. I mean, you're rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?" JJ looked at (Y/N).

"And you.. You're a golden boy too. Another year of school before you're off to some cooking school where you'll forget about us." (Y/N) frowned, knowing it wasn't true. JJ looked at John B.

"But you and me, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't, alright?"

"JJ.." John B sighed.

"And I know.. It didn't use to be that way for you." John B shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it." John B went to walk past JJ.

"So that's it?" JJ asked. John B pushed him away.

"Just get out of my way, bro." John B huffed, walking away. The others could simply watch.

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." JJ said, following him and standing beside him.

"You got the key to Cameron's big boat, right?" John B tried to object. "There's scuba gear inside, man. We just borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man." JJ said, holding his shoulders.

"You don't see rich kids going to foster care, do you?" JJ questioned. John B seemed hesitant.

"I know this is gonna sound shitty of me.. But.. What if this could be or lead to a possible hint of where your dad is, John B?" (Y/N) watched them turn to face him.

"(Y/N).." Kiara shook her head. (Y/N) sighed.

"I know this is a sensitive topic but, think about it. We haven't heard from him in nine months and suddenly you guys find this boat. It never hurts to try." (Y/N) shrugged.

"Scooter was probably drunk and thought it would be fun to ride the waves." Kiara said. "Plus you're supposed to be the voice of reason and logic, like Pope!"

"I know, Kie." (Y/N) sighed, looking at John B. "Up to you."

"Make this quick, alright? Dad has a group of officers and volunteers out looking for this wreck." (Y/N) said.

"Oh, good. You're back." Kiara looked at him. (Y/N) gently shoved her. Kiara laughed softly, checking the tanks.

"This is empty. You took empty tanks?" Kiara asked. John B ran his hand through his hair, shrugging lightly.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full. It's enough for one of us." Kiara said, looking at the boys.

"Love it when a plan comes together." JJ mumbled.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kiara asked. They remained silent.

"Anybody?"

"It's kind of a Kook sport." JJ said. Kiara sighed.

"The closest I've ever gotten was watching a documentary." (Y/N) shrugged. JJ chuckled. "Nerd."

"I... Read about about it." Pope said.

"Great, Pope read about it and (Y/N) watched a documentary, so somebody's gonna die." Kiara shook her head.

"Look, y-you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?" JJ questioned.

"Well, if you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends." Pope informed them.

"Bends like, bend over and.." JJ arched his back.

"The bends kill you." Pope interrupted. JJ blinked and straightened up. "Right." (Y/N) snorted, shaking his head.

"I can... I can dive." John B offered.

"Yeah, you can dive. I'm cool with that." JJ nodded.

"Since when can you dive?" Kiara asked, brows furrowing as the wind tossled everyone's hair.

"I'll do it. It's fine." John B assured. Pope stood.

"Let me do some calculations real quick." Pope said. Kiara stared at John B, frowning and shaking her head. Pope quickly did the calculations. Kiara took off her shirt and jumped into the water, causing the boys to look.

"Uh.." John B glanced at the boys.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't know, but I liked it. A lot." JJ grinned. (Y/N) rolled his eyes. "Don't be jealous, (N/N). We still think you're hot." JJ patted his head.

"I know. I catch you guys staring. A lot." (Y/N) said, watching the boys softly flush and look away.

"So, uh, yeah. When you, uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold, you stick this thing inside and twist and pull, away?" JJ showed him the key. Kiara resurfaced, swimming towards the boat.

"Hey, I tied my t-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop." Kiara told them. (Y/N) helped her onto the boat as Pope helped John B prep some more. JJ tried giving him some advice on keeping calm.

"When you start running out of air, resurface.. Even if you haven't found anything. Your safety is more important than some wreck." (Y/N) said. John B nodded.

"Got it, Mama Pogue." John B grinned.

"Hey, if we get caught out in the marsh, we're bascially screwed, so... Better get a move on." Pope said. John B nodded as Kiara approached him. She stepped up, leaning in and pecking his cheek. John B blinked. The boys exchanged glances.

"Diver down?"

"Diver down." Kiara stepped down as John B hopped into the water. He disappeared under. (Y/N) anxiously watched the water, searching for signs of distress.

"He'll be fine, (Y/N)." JJ gently tugged on his arm. (Y/N) sighed and nodded, sitting beside him. JJ gently bumped his knee against (Y/N)'s, their legs touching. (Y/N) was too focused on the water to notice. They heard a siren sound and turned to look.

"Fuck me." (Y/N) whispered. JJ cocked a brow, giving a grin. (Y/N) noticed and nudged his leg, chuckling.

"Just act frickin' normal." Kiara said.

"You should deal with this, (Y/N)." Pope said. (Y/N) huffed lightly.

"Evening, officers." Pope greeted. Shoupe immediately looked at his son.

"Evening." Shoupe returned the greeting. He cleared his throat, looking at them.

"How you kids doing? The marsh is closed. (Y/N), you know this." Shoupe shot his son a pointed look.

"Sorry, dad. I forgot.. I had a lot of things on my mind and it slipped. I was thinking about our conversation from yesterday." (Y/N) looked at him, frowning. Shoupe sighed but nodded.

"Why is it closed anyway?" JJ asked.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." Shoupe explained. "Seen anything?"

"Nope. No boat." Pope and JJ shook their heads. (Y/N) licked his lips, shaking his head as well.

"Where's your friend you always hang with? He here?" Shoupe asked them all, though he looked at (Y/N). JJ and Pope subtly glanced at each other.

"He's working." Kiara answered. Shoupe hummed.

"I'm gonna check your little boat out." Shoupe said, getting on the boat. (Y/N) sighed deeply.

"Don't worry, I'm not trying to embarrass you, (Y/N)." Shoupe said. "Feels like it." (Y/N) mumbled.

"You can check her out." Pope shrugged, standing and letting Shoupe wonder around, checking things. Shoupe stepped up, putting his sunglasses on and looking at the water. (Y/N) watched him, anxiety slowly spiking. Minutes passed.

"Are you done checking out your reflection, dad?" (Y/N) asked. Shoupe chuckled, turning around and looking at them.

"Beautiful day, ain't it?" Shoupe headed back to his boat. The boys agreed.

"Let us know if you find anything on your way out." Shoupe said.

"Will do." Pope nodded. Shoupe started the engine, heading away from them. They quickly went to the edge, waiting for John B to resurface.

"He's definitely out of air." Pope mumbled. John B surfaced, the anxiety and tension leaving. JJ quickly helped John B.

"Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything.." John B grinned, tossing the bag into the boat.

"Yeah, there we go! That's my boy!" JJ laughed.

"You okay?" Kiara asked.

"Yeah, I ran out of air." John B climbed onboard.

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh... We took care of 'em." Pope said. (Y/N) brushed the hair out of John B's face, shaking his head.

"That was stupid but.. We got something out of it." (Y/N) mumbled.

"Hey, guys? Guys, bogey, two o'clock." Kiara said. The boys turned their heads, seeing the boat.

"Anyone recognize that boat?" Pope asked.

"Nope."

"Never seen it." Kiara shooo her head. "What are they doing here? The marsh is closed."

"Dad said volunteers could help." (Y/N) reminded.

"Let's not stick around." JJ said.

"JJ, get the bowline." John B said. (Y/N) kept an eye on the boat.

"They don't seem friendly." (Y/N) mumbled.

"Don't wait for me." JJ said as John B started the engine. They quickly tried leaving.

"They're picking up speed." (Y/N) called. They glanced back.

"They're following us." Kiara glanced at the boys. They quickly got into a chase. (Y/N) looked back at the boat.

"Fuck, get down!"

"Why?" A gunshot answered the question. They quickly ducked, John B having to stay standing so he could drive.

"Oh my god, we're gonna die." Pope said. They heard more gunshots, John B making turns which made the shooter miss.

"Shit, Pope, move." Kiara stood, grabbing some nets.

"Kie, get down!" (Y/N) shouted, flinching when another gunshot rang out. Kiara tossed the net into the water, the boat chasing them stopping when the net caught them. They whooped and laughed, shock passing.

"Is everyone okay?" (Y/N) asked. They nodded. "Kie, that was fucking dangerous but smart as hell. Tell us beforehand."

"Yes, Mama Pogue." Kiara chuckled. They got to John B's wooden port and tied the boat before getting off. John B put the duffle bag down, opening it as the others gathered around.

"What do you guys think it is?" Kiara asked.

"It's gotta be money." John B replied.

"Probably drugs." (Y/N) shrugged.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope asked, causing the others to look at him.

"Wow, Pope. That's a rare outburst of emotion." John B said, chuckling. They opened it, finding a metal thing. John B opened it and took out the thing inside. His face fell, opening it and staring at the compass.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right." Pope nodded. They seemed dissapointed.

"At least it looks nice." (Y/N) said, noticing the look on John B's face. "What's up?"

"This was my father's." John B whispered, a smile appearing on his face.

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Audio

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: Juyeon

Genre: a pinch of *TW depression/rape/abuse (not from juyeon, don’t worry)

A/N: I contemplated writing this for Seonghwa but idk i just didn’t see fit while i wrote this. and no, there will not be any crying in the club, i’m riding on the notion where you need to get over shitty times and it’s not worth crying about it

you were shaking your head and swallowing large gulps of air, trying to get the burp in your stomach out through your throat. you could feel the slight burn in your chest from the cider you had earlier. you pull up your phone with the music blasting loudly in your ears, the clock ticking on the screen as the large, digitalised numbers shining brightly in your eyes.

1.24am

“ah fuck... shouldn’t have stayed at the bar so late. why does school even have a bar? shit shouldn’t be allowed--” you grumble under your breath, smelling the sweet scent of the cider escaping your mouth. you burp, but you couldn’t hear it over the music in your ears.

you look up and see your dorm building barely a five minute walk away, the only light illuminating the path you were on were the lights from the nearby faculty buildings in the area. if this wasn’t a university campus, you’d be scared shitless to even walk here.

you walk mindlessly, only wanting to get back to your room, take a bath and knock out after a day of relentless working on your few, but tiring projects. your eyes notice a familiar figure walking across the road just about tens of metres ahead of you in your path, and you weren’t sure who it was until he started walking in your direction.

you were pretty certain it was just someone you’ve seen around in school before, but he walks up to you and doesn’t hesitate to drape his arm over your shoulder. for a moment, you wonder if it was the cider that led your mind to play tricks on you, but you register his face under the bad lighting, immediately drawing a frown on your forehead and pulling out your earpiece to protest the action.

“what the he--”

“yah, where have you been? i thought you said you wanted to go back to your room early today?”

confusion was written all over your face, and you couldn’t choose between freaking out over the fact that someone you weren’t familiar with talk to you like you were friends, or over the fact that it was lee juyeon.

“anni...” juyeon pulls out his phone from his right pocket, openly searching for your contact that he didn’t save, and struggles a little while typing in a message. “you said you’ll check your text messages every now and then, how was i supposed to know that you were going to go MIA?” he looks at you through the corner of his eyes, hitting send. you feel the vibration in the hand you were holding your phone with.

there’s someone following you.

“anyway, how was your day? managed to finish whatever you needed to get done?” juyeon slips the phone back into his pocket, probably picking up on the panic that was filling your chest and your gut.

your mind blacks out for a moment, and suddenly, a billion thoughts filled your head.

the person who was following you. there was only one person you could think of: your ex-boyfriend. things got ugly when you said you wanted to break up last year. not only did he threaten to commit suicide, but he tried to extort money from you in a bid to keep you by his side. you could never forget how he tried to make you pay him to keep your intimate secrets away from your friends and family.

“i’ll watch you from a corner”, he said.

‘traumatised’ might not even be the best word to use. but right now, you were scared.

then there’s lee juyeon. it’s not that you hated him or anything. both of you knew each other, especially after you confessed to him about a month ago. not because you wanted a relationship with him, but because the knowledge that you had feelings for a boy you barely had any contact with was eating you out. you couldn’t help but to be honest with yourself, to be honest with him, and confess, for the sole reason of getting it off your chest.

you promised him you didn’t want anything and all you wanted to do was to be honest with your feelings.

him being arguably one of the most popular seniors who stayed in the same dorm as you didn’t really help your case of confession.

luckily, you found out that he told only one person: hyunjae.

after that, you never bothered to contact him again. all you wanted was for the feelings to go away as quickly as they came.

“are you alright? you seem burnt out,” juyeon’s voice snaps you back to reality, watching you zone out and noticing that your grip on your bag straps were now tighter. your knuckles were white and the flesh on your palms were turning red from the harsh hold.

“i’m... i’m okay.”

juyeon senses your discomfort and anxiety now that you knew someone was following you. he tilts his head subtly, noting that the stalker was still about twenty metres away from the both of you.��

juyeon continues talking and chatting like you were best friends, giving you small taps on your shoulder to encourage you to reply. his facade doesn’t falter once the entire walk to the dorm buildings, and even then, your stalker was still within sight.

the both of you were finally at the lift lobby, where you hoped to see the security guard, but your dorm was known for having shitty security, so it wasn’t surprising to see the post empty.

juyeon hits the button of the lift, never once lifting his arm from your shoulder. you look at him stare at the metallic lift doors while waiting for it to arrive, realising that he was observing your stalker’s reflection in the surface of the doors. he was standing barely ten metres away from the entrance of the lift lobby outside the building.

“he’s not going to leave if i let you go up on your own.”

had he said that any lower or softer, you wouldn’t have heard it.

“i know we aren’t close, but please trust me.”

you gulp, knowing that blood was rushing away from your face and you were on the edge of passing out. your heart was racing in your chest, and you were just about on the verge of having a whole panic attack. if juyeon wasn’t here, you’d be crying by now.

“i know it’s unfair, but please trust me,” juyeon says again, now slightly louder to ensure you heard him. you look down at your feet, trying to pull your attention away from your anxiety and the stalker while the lift arrives.

juyeon pulls you in and turns you around so he would be looking over your head and outside the lift. you were watching your stalker in the reflection off the mirror in the lift when juyeon wraps an arm around your shoulder and uses the other to tilt your chin upwards after pressing the button for the sixth floor.

you hear the gears of the lift doors churn, but juyeon leans forward and gives you a solid, firm kiss on your lips. your eyes remain wide open, but juyeon’s fluttered shut upon the contact.

your eyes catch a glimpse of your stalker taking two large steps towards the lift lobby just as the doors seal shut. maybe it was juyeon’s facade and confidence that rubbed off on you, but a surge of anger and frustration motivates you to wrap your arms around juyeon’s shoulder, pulling him in closer to seal the kiss.

you feel the lift start to move upwards, and you pull away without hesitation, using your fingers to wipe the saliva off the corners of your lips. you look away, unsure if you were embarrassed, or that the alcohol from the cider was making your face burn.

“sorry,” juyeon licks his lips and wipes them with his finger too. “doubt he’ll be scared away if we didn’t do anything.”

“no, it’s... fine,” you stare at your feet, taking deep, large breaths to calm your breathing. you didn’t even notice how hard you were breathing until you started calming yourself.

“are you alright? you look like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack,” juyeon sniffles, turning and leaning against the wall of the lift as if the two of you didn’t just kiss for show.

“i was,” you huffed, pulling your bag around to the front and taking out your room key. “but thanks. i wouldn’t have known if you didn’t tell me.”

juyeon rubs an eye and watches as the lift comes to a stop on the sixth floor. he follows you out, and it triggers you to turn around, the anxiety still in your gut not making you the best person you are.

“i’m fine now, just go.”

juyeon’s eyes widened a little, and frankly. he looked a little hurt. but that look of anguish quickly dissipates, and you wonder why he hasn’t nagged at you for being an ungrateful little bitch despite him helping you.

“i’ll see you to your room and i’ll be camping on this floor for awhile,” he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “i don’t trust that your stalker’s gone. he’s probably just waiting for me to leave before he comes up to find you.”

you freeze, though you already weren’t moving.

he was right.

knowing your ex-boyfriend, he was probably still downstairs, staring up at the sixth floor, waiting for juyeon to leave the building before he came up to look for you. the thought sends chills down your spine and your head to feel light-weighted.

you hear some movements, but it wasn’t from juyeon because he wasn’t moving, and soon, you hear someone coming from behind you.

“oh? why are you-- why are you both--”

“anniya, she’s just got some notes for me, that’s all. she took a module last semester and i’m taking it now, so she’s just lending me some of her material,” juyeon walks past you and grabs hyunjae’s hand to pull him in and bump shoulders. you turn to see hyunjae with his girlfriend, who happened to be your neighbour. she smiles at you, hand in hyunjae’s.

they were probably heading to hyunjae’s room.

“ah, arra~” hyunjae hums, giving you a bright smile as he lets juyeon go. the younger male turns to you, walking to your room and looking back at you, cuing you to follow him.

you get the door open and you nearly fall into it. your heart, though not racing anymore, was still pounding against your chest mercilessly. you dump your bag in the chair at your table, sinking down to the floor and letting your emotions eat you whole.

you shut all your senses out while you curl up into a ball while sitting on the floor. you let your emotions and memories override you like a virus taking over a computer, and you could feel your lungs collapsing in on themselves.

you hear nothing from juyeon, but you felt someone pat your shoulders gently and you hear him shuffle around, the friction of his pants against each other rustling as he sat down next to you.

it didn’t matter that the boy you had feelings for was here in your room with you. you were never interested in developing a relationship with him, so this was nothing compared to what your ex-boyfriend has done to your memory and your faith in love.

juyeon tries to unwrap you, but fails. you could feel the hot tears taking over your eye sockets and your feet starting to turn numb at the awkward position.

“yah...” you hear juyeon call out to you, his hands still gently searching your arms and body for a way to untangle you from yourself. “it’s going to be okay. he’s not going to show up as long as he knows i’m still here, arra?”

you shake your head relentlessly, your tears finally spilling over your lids and drizzling down your cheeks. you hear juyeon sigh, and with more force now, he pulls you open.

you fall towards your left, into juyeon’s torso as he cradles you like a baby. you tried your best not to crumble into a billion pieces, but the thought of your ex-boyfriend’s face was enough to shove you over the edge.

“uljima,” juyeon coos into your ear, arms carefully wrapped around your shoulders and not anywhere inappropriate. you grit your teeth, completely ignoring his words as you let it all out. never have you once broken down over your ex-boyfriend in front of anybody, and you definitely didn’t expect the first person to be juyeon, someone whom you desperately wanted to avoid to prevent any awkward situations.

you didn’t know if you blacked out from crying too hard, or the anxiety that was slowly shutting your mind off, but you wake up to a dark room, with only one source of light turned on. your swollen eyes take some time to adjust, but you see now that you were on your bed, and juyeon was at your table scrolling on his phone.

you struggle to sit up, wondering how in the world you felt physically incapable of supporting yourself. juyeon responds to your movements, and rushes over to the space next to your bed with your water bottle.

“drink up. your throat must feel like the sahara dessert now.”

you take the bottle and finish whatever that was left in it.

“what time is it?” you rub your eyes as juyeon locks his phone and shoves into his back pocket.

“3.23am.”

you groan and physically face palm yourself.

“you better head back to your room, he must’ve been gone by now.”

juyeon sighs, taking the bottle and sitting on the floor next to your bed. you look at him, too tired to make your confusion show, but you still stare at him hoping that he could see all the imaginary question marks floating above your head.

“i’m not going anywhere after seeing you break down like that. i’ve got no morning classes tomorrow, so i’ll stay with you until you wake up,” juyeon brings his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on his right knee, looking up at you with tired eyes.

you scratch your head, trying to stifle a yawn as the exhaustion hits you again.

“go back to sleep. you’ll be fine as long as i’m here, i promise.”

juyeon nods backwards to your pillow, encouraging you to fall back into the mattress and shut your tired, swollen eyes.

lee juyeon. you’re really something, huh?

Part 2: Give Your Heart A Break

#the boyz #the boyz juyeon #juyeon #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #lee juyeon #timetohajima #angst #timetohajima playlist feels

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everstarry · 5 years ago

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sweet as honey

words: 3470

summary: an easy mission calls for desperate measures when almost caught. whiskey doesn’t mind the outcome.

warnings: no smut but intense kiss and longing?? also, this is my first time writing Whiskey so that’s a warning in on itself.

“You should be happy that they’re letting you help with the mission,” Ginger rolls her eyes at you. You can hear the sort of distant envy in your friend’s voice from where she lays on your bed.

“I don’t want to do this,” you sigh, fingers dragging up your arm to fix the strap of your dress that doesn’t want to stay on your shoulder. “I’m intelligence. We’re intelligence.” Your reflection in the mirror shows your nerves as you move to fix your hair for the seventh time since Ginger had helped you style it.

“We can be more,” she sighs, taking her eyes off the spinning ceiling fan to meet your own waiting gaze. “Honey and Ginger,” she sort of smiles. The thought is sweet.

“That sounds like half a tea recipe,” you grin back, moving to fall back on your bed beside her. The black silk of your dress is smooth against your skin. “I think you should be the one in the field,” you mumble, knowing that she would do anything to be going to the event that you were being forced to attend.

“Jack wanted you,” she says, glancing at you. You know she’s trying to read you, trying to gauge your reaction. You don’t like being profiled.

“Whiskey,” you begin, losing your train of thought as soon as the agent enters your mind. “He just likes to push my buttons. He only wants to torment me in person. Just hearing my frustration and annoyance isn’t enough to get him off anymore.” Ginger laughs at that, you can feel her shoulders rising and falling against your own. You let out a huff of air, fighting a grin that threatens to overtake your features. “You know I’m right!”

She wipes at her eyes but nods. “Don’t have too much fun without me,” Ginger concedes.

“Never,” you promise, bring your right arm up and outstretching your pinky in her direction. She quickly takes your little finger in her own.

A sudden beep drew your attention away. “I think Whiskey is here,” you sigh. “I don’t understand why he couldn’t just go by himself,” you say. Ginger sat up and looked at you.

“He needs someone with technical expertise and your code,” Ginger supplied. “A date is inconspicuous for an event like this.” You sat up to strap your heels and to run your hands through your hair one last time. Your phone beeps again. You glare at the device as if it had offended you, wanting more than anything to direct your anger at Jack Daniels.

“I can’t stand him,” you roll your eyes. “I guess you can wait up here if you want,” you tell her before grabbing your bag and slipping your phone into, not bothering to answer your partner.

“Oh, I will be. I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she smiles, “Do you still have that wine that we had the other weekend?”

“It’s in the fridge,” you move to grab your keys and open the door. “You better not fall asleep!”

“I won’t! I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Ginger teases, taking a wine glass down from one of your cabinets.

You close the door behind you and hurry to the entrance where you know Jack is waiting. You have to lift up the long dress as you make your way down the small staircase at the front of your building. “Well, don’t you look like a million dollars.” His southern drawl nearly makes you swoon as it always does when you hear it while helping him during his missions. Then you remember who the sweet voice belongs to and just get into his car. You buckle up and choose to not dignify him with a reply. “I’m just wondering where your weapon is, Hon?” You realize that he’s watching you, eyes tracing every curve of your body. You want to move to cover yourself but don’t want him to give him the satisfaction.

“It’s Honey,” you correct, managing to get it out while maintaining eye contact with the older man. It’s easier to confront him when there are miles between you and the protection from behind your screen. His eyes seem to sparkle as he looks you over again. “I don’t have a weapon,” you shrug. You hear a small scoff before he begins to drive. “I’m intel,” you point out. “If you wanted backup you should have asked Tequila to be your date instead,” you cross your arms over your chest finally giving in to that insecure part of you that screams to hide from him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His gaze never leaves the road as he speaks. “Not when I can have such a beautiful woman on my arm.” You narrow your eyes at him, expecting a teasing note in his voice or even a snide remark but instead find nothing.

“Just get me into the office and let me work in peace,” you want to sound exasperated but can’t even find a hint of irritation in your own voice. You study him as he moves the car effortlessly through the traffic that decorates the road.

“I can do that,” he nods and gives you a small smirk. “Think we might even have enough time for a dance, Honey.” The way he says your alias nearly makes you shiver. The mics that the Statesman have are good but hearing his voice in person is something out of this reality.

“Don’t say my name like that,” you sigh. It’s not even your real name yet it still seems to do something to you, warms your insides pleasantly. You might just die if he ever said your real name. You can barely handle something as simple as a codename.

“Like what?” You hear the teasing in his voice and somehow that makes you feel like your back behind your screen with Ginger instead of right beside him. It calms your nerves, allows you to ground yourself imagining being back at your station.

“Like it’s something so filthy,” you turn away from him, unable to face the agent.

“Babydoll, you have no idea just how filthy I can sound,” he chuckles quietly. You bite your tongue. You know it’s not good to encourage him. You know if you don’t respond he’ll grow bored.

The rest of the ride is silent. It’s a long hour of nothingness.

As you pull up to the estate you feel your eyes go wide. Whiskey begins to spout out facts he knows about the architecture but you zone him out. It’s beautiful and you just want to take it in. You marvel at the golden detail on the building as he slows to a stop. Someone on the valet team immediately opens the door for you and offers their hand. You take it and step out into the light, not even noticing when Jack takes his place by your side. “If I would have known this was all it took to shut you up I would have taken you someplace nice before,” his hand is warm as it touches the small of your back. You aren’t sure if it’s his voice or his warmth that snaps you out of whatever captivated you.

“You’re the one who’s always talking, Cowboy,” you remind, wanting nothing more than to stomp your heel onto his foot. Instead, you smile as staff open the doors for you. “What is this?” you ask him. There are more people inside and your eyes travel from one beautiful dress to the next. Suddenly, you feel very undressed. As if sensing your inner thoughts Jack’s fingers trace small circles on the exposed skin of your back, slipping just under where the low cut fabric begins, making you feel somehow more beautiful with the small action.

“Gala,” he supplies, withdrawing his fingers to trace just the skin that the dress reveals to him. “That official and his wife hold it every year. Orchestra and all,” he mumbles, subtly pulling you closer to him as you make your way into the hall.

“We need to get to the office,” you whisper, looking around to see if anyone was staring at either of you.

“What’s the rush, Sugar?” His lips brush your hair when he leans in close. You shy away when the smell of his cologne hits your nose. He smells heavenly and it nearly makes you dizzy. “I was thinking we could have some champagne, maybe even dance to a few songs…” he trails off but you cut him off before he can even finish any other thought.

“I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to,” you breathe out. You want more than anything to be home with your best friend, drinking pink wine and talking about the newest book or tv show that you both binged.

“You got it, Honey.” There’s something in how he says it that you know it’s not meant as his nickname for you, but rather just your codename. You aren’t sure whether to feel ecstatic or disappointed that he isn’t teasing you anymore, but the feeling that accompanies this realization sinks through your skin and into your bones. Whiskey coaxes you out of it as he gently guides you through the mass of people and through the many hallways that make up the building. The art that hangs on the walls isn’t enough to distract you from the pounding in your chest as you grow closer and closer to the office. He pushes open the door and lets you inside. The office is neat and clean, devoid of any personal touches that your workspaces has. A single picture frame of the official and his wife is placed on the desk and your eyes nearly pass over it without a second thought. You look away from the couple and boot up the laptop that lay on the desk.

“This shouldn’t take long,” you mumble, body in almost autopilot as you bring your flash drive out from your purse. Your fingers dance across the keyboard swiftly as the code you designed begins to make a door for you to access the contents on the official’s computer. You code alongside it to make the process go faster, to keep the traces of you invisible. Whiskey stands guard at the door and lets you work in silence. You appreciate it because the quiet helps you focus on the task at hand.

“Now, Angel,” Whiskey suddenly shuts the door and crosses the room in a few quick strides. You barely glance at him. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but there appears to be someone coming.” Your heart seems to stop at his words. You look between him and the door, panic setting your every capillary on fire. Your program isn’t done, and your mind can’t settle on any one particular thought. You aren’t supposed to be in the field. You didn’t want to be there in the first place. You almost wanted to cry.

“Jack,” you finally whimper, looking up at him from where you sit in the chair, teary-eyed and nearly begging for something you aren’t sure of. Your vocal cords feel paralyzed, his name the only syllable they’ll allow out.

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling you up from the chair and into his arms. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” You nod, gripping on to the front of his jacket. “Do you trust me?” he asks quietly.

You nod because you do.

Whiskey suddenly pushes you so you’re sitting on the large mahogany desk, he steps in between your parted legs until your hips are pressed tightly together. The shock of it all sends a jolt through you. His lips crash into yours and you gasp into the harsh kiss. He’s got a hand in your hair and he’s guiding your movements. His other hand is gripping and grabbing at anything bit of you that you let him, which is all of you. You aren’t sure if your insufferable strap slides down your shoulder or if Jack has dragged it down himself as he explores your body. Your legs wrap around him in a desperate attempt to get him closer, to feel more of him. He makes a low sound in the back of his throat that you almost miss as he finally lets you breathe. You try to chase his mouth as he leans away. He’s looking at you, warm bourbon eyes taking in the sight of your shuddering and heaving chest, plump lips, and cloudy gaze. He presses deeply into you to make sure you feel all of him, grip nearly bruising when he kisses you again. He pushes your leg higher on his waist and suddenly, he’s pushing your dress up. You lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on your bare thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin before he slides them further and further up. “So fuckin pretty,” he mumbles against your lips and you melt.

You’re on fire—feel like you're actually burning—as you drown in him. He overtakes all your senses and just claims you as his. His lips are on your neck when someone finally clears their throat. You hadn’t even heard the door open. You’re breathless as you turn to look at the guard that stares pointedly at you.

“Oh I’m sorry,” his accent is heavy as he tries to break from you but your grip on him keeps him close. You hide in his neck as he talks. “Are we not supposed to be in here? My wife and I just wanted a little privacy. This just happened to be the room we stumbled upon,” The word ‘wife’ rings in your ears.

“No, you’re not,” is the tired reply. You feel Jack’s hands trail up and down your back in efforts to soothe you. You’re wound up in more ways than one. “How’d you two get in here?”

“It was open,” Whiskey laughs and the sound makes you feel a bit better. You can feel the guard’s eyes on you which makes you shudder into your partner. Jack gently fixes the strap of your dress and helps you down off the desk. “I’m sorry about the trouble we caused,” he takes your hand in his own and brings you into his side. Your free hand grabs onto his arm as you stay close to him. “Isn’t that right, Honey?” he grins at you, letting your codename slip, showing you how relaxed he really was.

“Right,” you nod, pressing your cheek into his shoulder. His thumb rubs slow circles into your hand. “Can we go?” you look up at Whiskey and shyly bite your lip, trying to amplify the innocent look you know men love. “Home, I mean. To finish what we started?” You see Whiskey’s eyes go wide at your words and the guard in the room seems just as shocked to hear them. You find it’s easy to slip into the role of adoring wife.

“You drive me crazy, Hon,” Whiskey sighs and lets go of your hand. You watch him pull out his wallet and bring out a wad of bills. “For your trouble,” Jack offers them to the guard. The man takes the money skeptically but doesn’t seem to mind the large amount that Whiskey gave him. “You wouldn’t mind giving me the directions to the entrance… You see, I was a bit distracted.” His eyes are on you and you revel in the attention he gives. You feel like some sort of goddess under his heated gaze.

“Right then left. Have a nice evening,” the guard opens the door for you and motions for you to get out of the office. He doesn’t even bother to check if things are misplaced or missing. It really does seem like a clandestine meeting between two lovers who couldn’t keep their hands off one another.

“I plan on it,” a small grin works its way onto his face as he holds out his hand for you to take. You slip your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as if you were old lovers, almost instinctively like you had done this hundreds of times. His hand is warm in yours and you cling to him.

“Jack,” you whisper when you know the guard is out of earshot. He hums in response. “I didn’t grab the flash drive,” the panic has edged its way back into your voice but Whiskey doesn’t seem concerned about it at all. You might have just compromised his mission and he doesn’t seem to care. “Jack,” you whisper again, this time squeezing his hand, wondering if you had his full attention.

Suddenly he stops and takes both your hand in his. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much Darlin’?” You feel him pressing your flash drive into the palm of your hand, hiding it from any wandering eyes. Feeling the familiar object settles your nerves and you let go of his hands to put it back in your purse, feeling as if it wasn’t stashed away someone would know just what you were up to. “The door should be there for you to work your magic on when you get back.” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart pound against your ribcage.

“How’d you do it?” you look away from his intense stare and take a few steps forward and he follows your lead.

“Quick fingers,” he grins. “Maybe I could show you sometime.” You instantly flush at his words as you remember the way his hands felt when were inching up your inner thigh.

“Why don’t you just take me home,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Gladly,” Whiskey winks, voice dropping lowly as he leans close, hand dropping to the small of your back, fingers dipping just below the fabric of your dress like before.

“Not like that,” you groan but his touch makes you shiver despite yourself.

“I could always just come up when I drop you off,” his voice is husky and you find you nearly drown in his honey-sweet drawl. Your mind tempts you with exquisite fantasies of Whiskey in bed. The way Angel would sound groaned into your ear. You shake the thoughts away.

“Ginger is waiting for me,” you tell him, almost missing the way his cocky grin drops slightly. Had he wanted to take you home the way he teased?

“Better get you home then.” You feel his absence when he leaves to talk to the valet. You text Ginger to have a glass of wine waiting for you. You might need the rest of the bottle as you try to understand the events that happened this evening. Before long Whiskey’s ushering you into his passenger seat, leaning over you and exposing the long column of his neck as he buckles you in. “Ready, Sunshine?”

Your tongue feels stuck to the roof of your mouth as you imagine the taste of him. You want more than anything to just lick him from his collarbone to just below his jaw. You can’t meet his eyes when you nod to him, embarrassed that your own thoughts would betray you when it came to the agent. You could barely stand him and yet you imagine what would have happened had the guard not interrupted you.

He’s pulling the car out of the estate, away from your first mission and you can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. If Jack even hears you, he chooses not to say anything about it. The car ride back is faster as there is less traffic and nice enough for the windows to be rolled down. You remain quiet as the wind whips your hair back, enjoying the breeze and the way the streetlights blur past you.

Whiskey doesn’t say much either. He remains somewhere in that far away world that he goes to when there’s something on his mind. You aren’t sure what to say as your thoughts eat away at you bit by bit. By the time that you finally think of something, he’s pulling up to your entrance, car idling as neither of you move. The silence becomes nearly unbearable and the heat in his eyes impossible to ignore when he leans in close.

He wants to kiss you again.

The part that frightens you the most is how much you crave to close the distance between you, how much your body just begs you to press your lips against his. You take a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Jack,” you whisper, reaching for the handle because God, you have to put more space and miles and maybe even a screen between you two.

He doesn’t seem surprised and he quietly laughs when he leans away. “Goodnight, Angel.”

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x read #whiskey #honey and whiskey #lots of petnames #intense kiss but not smut #fanfiction #one shot #ginger is in this #codename: honey #sweet as honey #kinda sugar daddy vibes #but only a little bit #kinda want to write more for this #kingsman #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader

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jeff-stillcoolasazombie · 5 years ago

Text

The Waiter and the Hotel Heiress- Chapter 2

a Kristanna and Eloise at Christmastime crossover event!

Length: 2741 words

Rating: K+

Also read on AO3

A/N: I am clearly booboo the fool if I thought I could start and finish writing an entire Christmas au less than a week before Christmas. I’m really busy the next few days, but I have nothing else in my head except for this story right now, and I have it all mapped out. I will have the whole thing done and posted by New Year’s at the very latest.

Chapter 2: Red Roses

After gently interrogating the housekeepers the night before, Eloise had determined that Kristoff and Anna belonged together. Yes, Anna was engaged to Hans, but Eloise still sensed there was something off about him. And anyway, what Kristoff and Anna had was true love, and what was more perfect and romantic than literal, actual true love?

Still, if she was going to convince them of that, Eloise would need to find legitimate reasons (as if true love needed reason for anything) for the two of them to connect.

But first, she needed to be absolutely sure that Anna still cared for Kristoff. Although Eloise was pretty certain that she did.

Naturally, with the nuptials mere days away, Eloise knew to find Anna in the parlor that morning for a dress fitting. “Hi Anna,” she said, strolling right up to the podium Anna was standing on. “Gosh, fancy running into you here.”

Anna gave the child a polite smile. “Hello, Eloise. What do you think of my dress?” She was wearing an ivory colored satin gown, the flared mermaid hem currently being altered with pins by a parlor seamstress.

Eloise thought Anna looked divine, but only gave a cursory glance. “Oh fine, I guess. Only I’ve been thinking, and aren’t you afraid that you might be rushing into things a little?” She began wandering around the small section of the room, pretending to be more interested in other bridal things as she spoke.

A confused look fell across Anna’s face. “You mean the wedding?” she clarified. “A couple of days ago you thought it was the most romantic thing you’d ever heard.”

“Well, it is,” Eloise said, trying not to back-peddle. A Christmas wedding was the most romantic thing Eloise had ever heard of, but forget whatever she said or thought. Right now she needed to focus on the task at hand, which was to test the waters and see how deep Anna’s feelings for Kristoff still lingered. Eloise continued, “I mean, when you’re absolutely sure it’s the right thing, because you really know the guy. Like really, really, really know him.” She paused in front of a floor length mirror to look back at Anna’s reflection. “Like you know Kristoff, for instance,” she said nonchalantly.

“You’re quite fond of him, aren’t you?” Anna said, laughing.

“Of course. He’s my best friend,” Eloise answered happily. And she listed off all the reasons Kristoff was so great. “He’s funny and charming and he lets me win every sword fight.” That last one might have been a bit biased toward six-year-olds, so Eloise added, “And no matter how tired he is, he’ll always play me a song on the piano.”

Anna beamed. “Did he teach you the little dances that go with them?” she asked, her face lighting up at the memory of playing music with Kristoff.

Then right there, Anna hopped off the dress podium (to the seamstress’s dismay) and started tap dancing with Eloise, humming a silly tune before ending in a little surprise twirl. The two girls giggled.

“Oh, he could make me laugh so hard with that,” Anna said full of glee. She lowered herself down a bit to meet the six-year-old’s eye. “Sometimes, I’d sneak down after the parties were over and we’d put on these little shows together, just the two of us. And I remember this one time we—“

Anna stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse in the mirror at herself in a beautiful bridal gown. She was supposed to be preparing to marry Hans, not reminiscing over ancient memories about Kristoff. Her face fell back into a neutral expression at the thought.

“Well. It doesn’t really matter now,” Anna said with a sad smile. She rose back up to the podium. “We’ve both moved on.”

Eloise frowned, for only a split second, before changing the topic. “Yeah. Good ol’ Kristoff,” the girl said. “Only I wish I could figure out who his girlfriend is.”

Anna’s head perked up. “His girlfriend?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Eloise started, playing with some veils to seem distracted from the leading comments. “But this morning I was in the kitchen, and I heard him ordering flowers over the phone. I mean, what else could I think? You don’t just send red roses to just anyone.” She glanced at Anna’s reflection in the mirror again, searching for any hint in the woman’s face.

“Red roses?” Anna herself had received an arrangement of beautiful red roses just that morning. It seemed too coincidental that Kristoff would’ve ordered red roses for some other girl, right?

Eloise knew it wasn’t coincidence at all. Kristoff hadn’t sent anyone roses; in fact, Anna’s roses were delivered by Eloise herself. But sometimes true love needed a little help.

———

FIVE YEARS EARLIER, THE SAME DAY

Kristoff wasn’t at all sure which university the Christmas party belonged to, but he immediately found that it didn’t matter in the slightest. Most parties—especially around the holidays—had the same general decorative layout and duties, he learned.

True to her word, Anna was waiting by the entrance of the Gold room at 1:45, just like they’d agreed. She was wearing the same pink blouse from that morning but now with a brown skirt, her red hair in an elaborate braid. At least she had more appropriate clothes on now. She waved at Kristoff giddily when she saw him, and he gave her a polite smile in return. All of the other employees greeted her as she walked past, but other than that no one really regarded her more. It was as if her presence was a natural occurrence and expected without question. She was just another person helping out.

And yet, every single task she performed with immense cheer, Kristoff noticed. She wanted to help, but more so she was glad to, it made her happy to help. Kristoff smiled every time he looked up to see Anna setting up some table or decoration or another. Her family was so wealthy, she could afford to spend her time doing whatever she wanted, but instead she was helping the waitstaff in the ballroom, because she liked doing it. Because she thought it was fun, she had said.

Anna was not allowed to stay for the party, however; she was escorted up to her room by a well-dressed older woman Kristoff didn’t know around four, about an hour before the party was set to begin. Despite being the heiress of the entire hotel, Anna would not be allowed the fun excitement of attending the actual party. It seemed that there might be many things, perhaps, that Anna wasn’t allowed to do.

Along with setting up for the party, Kristoff was also expected to serve trays of food and drinks during the evening. Normally, Kristoff was not supposed to work such long shifts, from morning till night, but larger events—particularly during the holidays, when there were so many of them—were more demanding. And considering it was only the third of December, he knew he had a lot of long work days ahead of him.

The party finally wrapped up around nine, and although Kristoff was exhausted from the mad rush of constantly running to and from the kitchen to provide food and Christmas ambience for such a crowd of people, he was also pumping with adrenaline. It was hard work, and there was never a moment of rest, but it was interesting just being in the same vicinity as such high society. Kristoff wasn’t sure if he would ever desire to be a part of this elite someday, based on some of the conversations he had eavesdropped on; no, just experiencing it by way of waitstaff was enough.

Since it was his first day, a senior waiter named Robert had taken Kristoff under his wing during the event, teaching him the ropes and showing him how to tear down the ballroom afterward. “Almost every party, from set-up to clean-up, goes exactly the same,” Robert told him.

At ten fifteen, they were just finishing clearing off the tables of their floral arrangements when Kristoff noticed someone standing in the corner of the room. He suddenly realized it was Anna, watching the staff attentively but not reaching out to help.

“Does she always spy on the servers after parties?” Kristoff asked Robert quietly, nodding towards Anna.

Robert looked up her subtly. “Not always, but often enough that no one ever acknowledges it,” he said.

She stayed there waiting until finally Kristoff was finished and went over to her where she was leaning against the wall now. “Isn’t it a bit late for girls your age to be down here unchaperoned?” he asked teasingly. He found that the party atmosphere had given him new confidence, and spending the afternoon along side her had made him even more at ease around her.

Her arms were crossed, and she feigned offense at his remark. “Excuse you, I’m not some lost ingenue with no idea of what time it is. My father happens to be the owner of this hotel, and if I am to take over for him someday, I need to be aware of every little thing that goes on.” She gave Kristoff a wry yet encouraging smile.

“Really?” he said coolly. “So then what’s going on at the Plaza for the rest of the night?” Part of him said it to be funny and to hear what crazy excuse Anna would come up with, but another part of him felt his energy waning. Still he humored her. “You’ve only been standing here for the past few minutes, so you must have some kind of ulterior motive by coming down.”

Anna smirked. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking of heading over to the Terrace room, to check on things over there,” she answered. “Would you like to come?”

There hadn’t been anything going on in the Terrace room that day, and she knew it. “What do you want in there?” he asked confused.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked him again. “Seeing as how I’m apparently in need of a chaperone,” she added.

Kristoff blushed. “That was a— I didn’t mean to—“ He stopped talking and took stock in the heiress’s proposal. She wanted to hang out with him. A situation like this could lead into scandalous territory, especially for him as the male and the employee. Still, it sounded like fun, and Anna had promised him that morning that she wouldn’t get him into trouble.

“Sure,” he finally said, giving a small grin. “Just let me clock out.” The least he could do if he was going to sneak around the hotel with the owner’s daughter was to clock out on time.

Anna followed Kristoff into the break area of the kitchen (he had forgotten she was allowed pretty much anywhere) where he punched his card, returned his waiter’s jacket and bowtie, and reached for his own coat. He caught Anna staring at his torso, and he remembered the dress shirt he was wearing was just a bit too tight on him, revealing the tone and outline of his chest. He debated removing the dress shirt in favor of just the t-shirt he had on underneath. Maybe this was actually a bad idea.

But before Kristoff could change his mind, Anna had grabbed him by the forearm and was guiding him through the kitchen to the Terrace room.

Kristoff had only briefly peeked in the Terrace room earlier, just to familiarize himself with all the ballrooms. The Terrace room was one of the larger event spaces at the Plaza and featured a grand piano in one corner. The lights in the room were dimmed, since there had been no event in there that evening.

“What are we doing here, Anna?” he asked once they got there.

“Can you play piano?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “I only know the guitar.” His aunt and uncle had gifted him an old guitar when he was a boy and playing it became a happy solace when he tired of mountain life.

“Oh, well, guitar and piano are very similar, I’ve heard,” Anna said. “I can teach you.”

She sat down at the piano bench, and when he didn’t immediately join her, she furiously motioned for him to sit to her left.

Kristoff did so but hesitantly. No, she wouldn’t purposely get him into trouble, but they were still two teenagers sitting very close together on a piano bench. As he sat closer to her, he noticed she smelled like lavender and roses. Meanwhile, he smelled faintly of sweat and grilled chicken.

“We’ll play the same notes, but I’ll take the high part and you can do the low,” she said, stretching her hands lightly across the keys. He copied her, focusing on her fingers instead of her face or her scent.

Anna showed him which keys corresponded with which notes and taught him some simple chords. She then taught him how to play “Jingle Bells”, both just the melody and the full song.

“How long have you been playing piano?” he asked her after about twenty minutes. Kristoff could tell she was downplaying her own skills to teach him the basics and make him less self-conscious.

“Since I was four,” she said without looking up at him. “I stopped taking lessons when I was twelve, so now I just play for fun.”

He smirked. “Do you do this often? Sneak down here and play for fun?”

Anna stopped playing now and looked at his face. “Fine, you caught me,” she said with a reserved expression. “This isn’t a regular thing for me. But I wanted to get to know you better, and I thought this would be a fun way of letting loose.”

Kristoff tried to hide his surprise at her response. She wasn’t just wanting to have fun after the party. She specifically wanted to have fun with him. Was that also not a common thing? Did she pick an employee at random every once in a while to hang out with?

He studied Anna’s face. She had the biggest eyes he had ever seen, the most perfect shade of robin’s eye blue. He noticed a light dusting of freckles all over her blushed ivory skin. And with his body so close to hers, Kristoff realized just how petite she was compared to him, like he could cradle her entire body in his arms alone. She was so beautiful.

In the distance, Kristoff heard the chime of a clock strike eleven. “It’s getting late,” he finally said, stopping himself from continuing his suggestive thoughts about her. He got up from the bench. “I should be going home, and it’s probably best for you to go back to your suite before your family notices you’re gone.”

Anna gave a small smile and sighed. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “Thank you for humoring me. But at least you have a new skill to practice in your down time,” she said, gesturing to the piano.

Kristoff laughed and helped her up. They walked back together through the staff corridors—the best way, Anna assured him, to navigate the hotel after hours. He guided her to the freight elevator, which she insisted on using. Never mind that the service elevator would be utilized by any housekeepers making their evening rounds.

Anna leaned towards Kristoff as she waited for the elevator. “You did very well today,” she said, “very good work all around.”

He realized that she was grading his work ethic and laughed. “Glad to hear I’m doing a good job at my job.”

Her eyes lit up with hope now. “Same time tomorrow night?” she asked happily. She did not ask about room service in the morning or setting up for events during the day. Those encounters would be guaranteed. Late night piano sessions were not.

He looked down at her, then past her at a counter with floral arrangements leftover from the university party. Without thinking, he pulled out a rose and gave it to her. Anna cupped it in her small hands.

“See you tomorrow, Anna,” he said.

And with his first shift at the Plaza complete, Kristoff knew he had many more exhausting days ahead of him. But they would all be worth it if he got to spend just an hour every evening being with her.

#kristanna #eloise at christmastime #fanfiction #crossover fic #au fic #I made this

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ademonandherbentley · 5 years ago

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Try the Gay Stuff (It’s delicious)

For @quietlypondering‘s Write This In Your Style challenge.

Prompt: “The Couch is comfier with you on it.” Summary: Roman and Virgil like to have regular Disney marathons. This one’s special. Or: A massive step forward encourages a reflection on the road thus traveled. Pairing: Ambiguous Prinxiety (Platonic? Romantic? Brotherly? Take your fucking pick, babes!) Word Count: 996 (comfortably fitting inside a word limit? I don’t know her.) Warnings: Discussion of being in the closet and many of the negative emotions that it entails. A/N: Inspired by Thomas and Jon’s latest collab. I’ve never written for Sanders Sides before and I haven’t written at all in months, but I can never pass up a good writing challenge. Enjoy!

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It was not, strictly speaking, a movie marathon. Movie marathons, as Logan seemed keen to impress upon them, were understood to be several movies played consecutively. One movie on repeat didn't quite fit the definition.

However, despite his protestations over the particulars he stayed for the first three watches. Virgil thought that his eventual departure to continue Thomas's schedule was more reluctant than usual.

By the time they hit play for the fifth time Patton had fallen asleep in the armchair which left only Roman and Virgil, curled up in the middle of the couch. By now Roman had most of the songs down and was belting along to the opening number, his voice harmonizing with the characters on screen in a way that even Virgil couldn’t snark about. It didn't matter that he'd seen it four times in a row – when he watched the main character (a handsome Prince of course, this was still a Disney movie) collide with the timid young peasant boy he still found his chest bubbling with warmth.

“It was always Thomas's dream to play the first gay Disney prince,” he murmured, “but he's alright with missing out, isn't he?” He knew that Thomas wasn’t tense or upset but Roman had far more insight into their host's desires.

Roman snorted gently, “Do you think this could have happened in any way that would have disappointed him?”

Virgil could think of several ways in which Disney could have gotten this horribly wrong but there wasn't any merit in mentioning them. They had done remarkably well – not perfect but, well, baby steps – and that was the important thing.

“He would have loved the part, of course,” Roman continued, “but just being around to see it happen, and being able to openly celebrate with everyone…” He trailed off and they watched the blushing peasant boy hurry away with the Prince's intrigued gaze on him.

“There will be other Princes to play,” Roman said, with such conviction that it didn't occur to Virgil to doubt him.

They lapsed back into silence. However, something about their conversation had wriggled its way into the back of Virgil's head. It was silly, he knew, but every time he tried to focus on the TV he was dragged back into his thoughts and felt the familiar squirm of guilt. He thought he was doing an okay job of ignoring it – until Roman nudged his arm and he realized he'd missed his half of their mini duet in the middle of the villain song that they'd started during watch number two.

“You good, iSnarly?”

“Yeah, Princey, I'm fine.”

“Hm.” Roman shifted round on the couch until he was fully facing Virgil. “What is it?”

Virgil considered rebuffing him - telling him it was nothing and to go back to watching the movie, but... Well, this was Roman. He might as well go ahead and burst into tears for all the good it would do deterring him.

He sighed. "It's stupid." Roman put a hand on his knee; silent encouragement for him to continue. "It's just... Thomas was so scared, for so long, about how he felt and if... If I had just eased up a bit, not been so para-" "Hey." Roman’s voice was gentle but firm. "You were reacting to the dangers you saw. That's your job."

"But it was okay," Virgil insisted, "he's so much happier now. I made him spend all that time in pain, and you were in pain too, I know you were."

Roman put a hand on his chin, turning Virgil to look at him. Virgil scowled and hunched into his hoodie. "What's bravery, Virge?" Roman asked. "Roman we’re missing the movie-" "Answer the question, Virgil. What's bravery?" Virgil huffed. "Being scared and doing the thing anyway." "Right. And could Thomas have ever come out without you letting him?" "...No." "Exactly. I know you were terrified but you let him do it because you knew it was right. And maybe..." he finally broke eye contact, looking down at his hand still on Virgil’s knee, "Well, maybe you wouldn't have been so afraid if I hadn't brushed off your concerns so often." "I wouldn’t have listened to you." "I could still have tried."

“Alright, we could play this blame game all night.” Virgil put his hand over Roman’s and squeezed it in a way he hoped was reassuring. “It’s just… kinda hard not to feel like we wasted a lot of time, y’know?”

“I know. But Thomas has been able to be there for so many of his young viewers, right? That’s not nothing. We got there. And hey–” he turned and gestured to the TV screen. The peasant boy has just appeared to rescue the Prince, revealing his magical powers in a moment of danger. The Prince was watching him in awe. “Now mainstream cinema is catching up with us!” Roman leaped from the couch and launched into the next number along with the Prince on screen. Virgil found himself snorting with laughter as he spun around the living room and nearly crashed into the coffee table.

“I’m supposed to be my kingdom’s hero but I got lost in the mayhem.”

Virgil picked up the thread as the peasant boy joined in, “Even heroes should have their own heroes to find them.”

Roman grinned down at him, his face radiant. “See? This is a night for celebration.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said as the song lulled to its romantic conclusion, “Now come back here. The Couch is comfier with you on it.”

Roman’s smile softened. He returned to his seat and slung an arm around Virgil. Virgil ducked his attempt to ruffle his hair and then settled into his side. They gave the rest of the movie their full attention, and if (for the fifth time) the wedding scene had both of them ducking their heads and trying to subtly dry their shiny eyes, there was no one around to notice.

#writethisinyourstyle #quietlypondering #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman & virgil #virgil & roman #prinxiety #roman x virgil #virgil x roman #my post #ts fanfic #thomas sanders

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yoosmekihyun · 6 years ago

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Honey and Peppermint (M)

Summary: Craving intimacy and frustrated at the complete lack of respectful men on your local dating apps, you agree to trying out a less conventional way of finding someone to help you scratch the itch.

Pairing: Chanyeol x reader; bestfriend! Amber Liu; appearance from Suho

Genre: Smut, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff

Word Count: 10,230

Warning: fingering, oral sex, sensory deprivation, hair pulling, body worship, self inflicted orgasm denial, no protection, cream pie

A/N: This is for @jiminiethot. We constantly have Chanyeol discussions and, of course, she has weaseled these thoughts into my brain. HE HAS NOWHERE TO GO, JUDE!

The phrase “sex club” in this story isn’t supposed to be like a swingers/BDSM dungeon-type club. It’s supposed to be like a country club where members pay a monthly or yearly fee to access the exclusivity of what is offered. In this sense, the “sex club” is designed where those participating have to be vetted via background check and have regular STI screenings. The members pay for the service. The “club” then matches people with their kink preferences. All the participants are paying members of the club--none are sex workers.

As always, protection is encouraged as well as regular STI (sexually transmitted infection) testing. Have fun but always be safe!!!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered to yourself as you stepped into your apartment and gently closed the door. You leaned against the frame as you set down your bag and slipped off your shoes before venturing further into your warm and comfortable home. You sighed in relief as you slipped out of your “date clothes” in favor of your favorite old sweatpants and tank top before making your way into the bathroom to remove your makeup.

Once you were officially comfortable and cleaned up, you headed into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of wine, padded to your couch, and plopped down with a groan. Jumping into your lap, you crooned lovingly at your aging cat, “Hey Potato. I missed you; did you miss me?” In response, Potato rubbed his face along your forearm and purred. You scratched gently behind his ears as you sipped your wine and pondered your evening. All signs had pointed to this being a really good date. You met Blaine on a dating app and had talked regularly for a couple weeks before your schedules aligned enough to allow a meeting. The conversations you had with him were funny and engaging with just the right amount of flirting. Texting him had quickly become one of best parts of your day especially since you had recently taken a promotion and were under more stress than you had been in the past year. In preparation for your date you had chosen a cute outfit that hugged your curves just right. You took the extra time to shave your legs and moisturized everywhere you could reach in the hopes things might end up getting a little physical later. It had been a while since you had kissed anyone, let alone engaged in any kind of sexual activity. You were looking forward to the possibility of intimacy, even if it was only shy and gentle touches. Once you arrived at the location, things seemed promising. Blaine was early, as were you, and you both expressed your mutual appreciation for this. However, as Blaine continued to drink heavily throughout dinner, he began to get too brazen with his touches and conversation topics. His comments quickly went from showering you with compliments and heavy flirting to lewd and grossly sexual advances. It was clear he felt that he had the right to go home with you and he began hinting not so subtly about how nice your mouth looked.

At one point, you began to wonder why you had stuck around through such a colossally bad date since it was evident it was a waste of your time. You excused yourself to the ladies room and ordered yourself a Lyft in hopes it would show up at the restaurant soon. Luckily, one was only a couple minutes away and you slipped out of the ladies room and managed to make it to the front door without drawing any attention to yourself. You pulled enough money out of your wallet for your meal and you explained the situation to the hostess and she assured you that she would take care it for you.

You walked out the doors as the Lyft pulled up and you quickly got into the backseat. The car was a couple blocks from the restaurant before your phone began going off incessantly. You only saw a couple of very choice words and insults before you blocked Blaine. Due to his distasteful, and frankly borderline threatening, behavior at the restaurant you also chose to report him on the app.

Reflecting on your mess of an evening, you sighed again and took another long pull from your wine glass. Potato had quickly fallen asleep in your lap and you continued to stroke his fur as you pondered what to do. You had been craving intimate physical affection for a while but you hadn’t found the right avenue to pursue. Pursing your lips and gently tapping the side of your wine glass, you remembered a suggestion Amber, one of your closest friends, had made to you recently.

On a night you both decided to stay in to watch movies and do face masks, she asked how the dating app was working out for you. This was when you had just begun talking to Blaine so you expressed that it had been disappointing thus far, though with one potentially promising person. She had taken a hard look at you and then bluntly asked, “Are you wanting to settle down or are you just looking to scratch an itch?”

“Both, hopefully,” you had replied honestly. “But I’ll settle for the latter for now. I obviously want to find the right person if I’m going to settle down. I just crave the physical intimacy.”

“Girl, you know I’ll cuddle you whenever you want,” Amber replied.

“And you know it’s not the same,” you responded quietly.

“I know,” Amber said as she ran a soothing hand up and down your back. Looking at you thoughtfully, she added, “I heard about this place if you’re interested. It’s pretty exclusive and private. I’d have to make a couple of calls to get you in.”

“What kind of place is it?”

“Promise not to judge?”

“Do I usually judge? You know I don’t care. What is the place?”

Taking a deep breath she looked at you and quickly said, “It’s kind of like a sex club.”

“Huh.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?!”

“You told me not to judge and I’m not. I’m just processing. I didn’t think a sex club would be something you would patronize.”

“Well…you remember my friend Taemin, right?”

“Yeah, the guy who moves like sex and has one of the sweetest smiles I’ve ever seen?”

“Yes! Well, he told me about it and I checked it out a few months ago. It was…an interesting experience.”

At this you raised your eyebrows at your friend. She rarely discussed sexual things with you. “So, are you officially recommending this place?”

“Oh yeah. If what you want is to get off and some physical intimacy then this might be what you need.”

She took a long pull from her beer as you removed your face mask and began patting the excess essence into your skin as you pondered her suggestion. Dropping your hands you looked at your friend who had a slight flush to her face, from the beer or her endorsement of a sex club, you were unsure. “Okay, what do I need to do to get access to this place?”

Reflecting back on this exchange, you were suddenly grateful Amber had gotten you access. She quickly made a couple calls vouching for you and then gave you instructions on how to get approval and access. Even though you had been talking to Blaine, you followed up on the requirements for the club ‘just in case’ things fell through. You were glad you had filled out all the paperwork and had gotten the required STI screening. You received an email detailing your acceptance to gain access to the club and you pulled up your phone to refresh your memory.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you opened a reply to the acceptance email and submitted a request for your first encounter to occur sometime in the next 72 hours. You double checked the instructions to ensure you had included everything required of the request and hit send before you could second guess yourself.

You finished the rest of your wine and gently moved Potato off your lap so you could stand. You padded to the kitchen, rinsed out your glass, and started switching off lights as you headed to bed. Feeling slightly giddy you snuggled down under your blankets as Potato jumped on your bed to find his place for the night. Despite the nerves and anticipation you felt, you quickly fell asleep.

The next morning you awoke to Potato mewling loudly in your ear and you knew he was asking for his breakfast. You groaned as you stretched under the covers but quickly got out of bed as Potato’s mewling was starting to escalate and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he was howling. Once Potato’s bowl was full and you started your coffee, you looked at your phone and noticed an email from “Scarlet Lines” and felt your stomach clench in nerves and anticipation.

Good day Miss L/N,

Thank you for your recently submitted request. We will be able to fulfill your order this evening (Saturday) beginning at 7pm. Your companion has agreed to fulfill your optional requests and has submitted the following optional requests for you as well:

-black dress -easily removable shoes -minimal makeup -hair loose and down

Please report to the address listed in the signature block 15 minutes prior to the start of your appointment. You and your companion will not be interrupted until it is time to prepare for your departure at 12am.

As always, thank you for entrusting us with your business.

Signed, Scarlet Lines

You reread the email several times in disbelief. Tonight at 7, you were going to a sex club. “Holy. Shit,” you muttered to yourself as you quickly called Amber.

She sleepily answered on the third ring, clearly disgruntled at being woken. “This better be good.”

“AMBEROHMYGOD”

“Y/N? What the fuck?! Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’MGOINGTOSCARLETLINESTONIGHT”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath you willed yourself to calm down enough to talk to your friend. “I’m going to Scarlet Lines tonight.”

“Oh my God! I wasn’t sure if you’d actually do it! Do you already have an appointment?”

“Yes! Last night’s date was fucking terrible and kind of scary–”

“I knew there was something off with that guy. Who in the hell names their kid ‘Blaine’?! Are you okay? Did he do something? Do I need to go kick some ass?”

Sighing and smiling into the phone you responded, “No, I’m fine. I got out before anything escalated. He threw out so many red flags I thought I was at a freaking soccer game where everyone was getting a red card.”

Laughing at your analogy, Amber replied, “Okay good. I’d hate to have to go to jail for dealing with him. I’m too attached to my skincare routine to survive prison.”

Momentarily forgetting the reason you called, you laughed loudly into the phone. “At least you have your priorities.”

“Truth. So, you took the plunge! I’m proud of you! I think it’s just what you need.”

“I’m nervous, Amber. What do I do?”

At this point you could tell Amber was sitting up and playing with Jack as you heard his playful barks in the background. “Well, first, just trust me that you’re safe doing this. If you followed the instructions and they’ve set you up with an appointment then you know you have done everything they require. As for what you do when you get there, relax and have fun. You and your ‘companion’ are there for the same reason so there’s no need to be nervous. And if you don’t like it, then leave. It’s really that simple, I promise.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief at Amber’s words. Part of you was still unsure if you had made the right decision but the other part, the larger part, was starting to get excited.

“Sorry for waking you, hon. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Hell, I’m awake now. You want to grab some food? Then I can help you get ready later. Or at least distract you from getting nervous later.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied gratefully to your friend. “But you don’t have anything going on today?”

“Nope, I’m all yours.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Your day with Amber went by far faster than you thought and before you realized it, you were putting on the finishing touches of your appearance before stepping out into the living room. Amber was sitting on the floor playing with Jack with music on in the background. Potato had sat on your bed and watched you get ready with his slow blinking eyes before falling asleep.

She looked up when she heard you moving into the main room and her jaw dropped. “Damn girl!”

“Are you sure I look okay?”

“Seriously dude? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t start drooling the moment you walk in the room.”

Laughing at her you slipped on your simple black and nude pumps. You had decided to comply with the optional requests your “companion” had made for your appearance. You had a simple, yet sexy, black dress already that you didn’t get to wear nearly as often as you wished you could. You had washed your hair and let it air dry so it fell in natural and gentle waves along your shoulders. Never one for much makeup anyways, you applied BB cream, eyeliner, mascara, and opted for a tinted chapstick for your lips.

Pulling out your phone, you put in a request for a Lyft and saw the estimated wait was fairly short.

“All right, last chance to tell me that I need to change or do something different. The Lyft has been ordered.”

At your words and seeing your anxious face, Amber stood and placed her hands on your shoulders. “You look amazing,” she replied. “I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that. I think you’ll have a good time tonight and you’ll be glad you took the leap. If at any point you don’t like it, leave. Call me and I’ll come get you, I promise.”

Nodding and giving her a small smile you leaned forward and gave her a hug. “Thank you,” you responded as you pulled back. “I know I say it all the time but you really are the best. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I know,” she said with a smirk as she pretended to brush her shoulder. “You would let your vagina dry up and would have married Potato by now if it wasn’t for me.”

“Hey!”

Laughing she handed you your bag and leather jacket before you both headed out the door. Once on the ground floor, she gave you a gentle pat on your shoulder. “Remember what I said, okay?”

You nodded and waved goodbye to her and Jack as your Lyft pulled up to your building. Taking a deep breath after closing the car door, you let it out with a whoosh to help calm your nerves. The driver was quiet during the drive, simply saying ‘hello’ when you got in and ‘thank you’ once you pulled up to your destination.

The building was simple and had the appearance of just another boring set of offices. Without knowing what was inside, no one would ever suspect anything out of the ordinary happened here.

You smoothed down the front of your dress and squared your shoulders before heading resolutely inside. It was a simple and standard office lobby as you entered. Your heels clicked on the tile floor as you made your way to the manned desk opposite of the entrance.

“Good evening,” the woman behind the desk greeted you. She wore a simple suit with her hair pulled back into a low bun. Her gaze was polite and free of judgement or assumptions as you approached. “How may I help you?”

You took a slow, calming breath and gave her a small smile. “Hello. I’m here for an appointment at 7. The email said I should arrive by 6:45.”

“Name, please?”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes, I see your appointment here. Thank you for being prompt,” she gave you a small smile. “Your companion was escorted to your assigned room shortly before you arrived.”

It was clear your face showed surprise and the concierge’s smile grew. “We stagger arrival times so you don’t feel pressured by the presence of others when you arrive. Your anonymity is as important to us as it is to you.”

You felt the tightness in your chest loosen at her words. The relief you felt must have shown on your face and the concierge patted your hand gently. “This is your first time here, I take it?”

Chuckling you replied, “Is it that obvious?”

“Not in a bad way. I just want to ensure that you will feel comfortable when doing business here. I also need to go over a couple things before you’re escorted upstairs as well.”

You nodded at her to continue so you could wrap up in the lobby before anyone else came in.

“If you’ll follow me, please. We’ll get the last couple items out of the way so you can enjoy your evening.”

As you followed her, you noticed several doors that appeared hidden at first glance along a hallway to the right of the desk. She slipped into the third door on the right and you entered behind her. Rather than a desk, the room had a small table with two cushioned wingback chairs angled waiting for you to sit.

Once the two of you were seated, the concierge continued the conversation in the same manner she had while you were in the lobby. “Now, I see you have requested no condoms?”

“Preferably, yes. I have a mild allergy. Is that possible?”

“Of course, anything is possible with us as long as all parties involved are consenting. You submitted an STI screening dated last week. Have you engaged in any kind of sexual activity with a partner since your screening?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Erin. Since this is your first time in, you should know, Scarlet Lines will do their best to have you working directly with me for your comfort and familiarity going forward. This also minimizes the number of people who will know your name and face.”

“That’s…wow…I wasn’t expecting this level of service.”

At this comment, Erin sat up a little straighter, clearly proud. “Like I said, we take your anonymity very seriously. Scarlet Lines also takes the anonymity and protection of their staff seriously as well. Everything we do is for your safety but it is also for ours.”

Continuing to be impressed the more you learned you smiled wide at Erin. “You’re making me feel so much better. I’ve been so nervous!”

“We just want you to have a safe and enjoyable experience. If our clients are happy, we’re happy. Now, since your STI screening is up to date, forgoing protection is on the table for you and your companion. He is also up to date and comfortable without it as well. I do have to ask, are you on any kind of birth control?”

“Yes, I’ve had an IUD for a year.”

“Excellent, that takes care of those safety measures. These are questions we will ask you every time you utilize us. Now, finally,” Erin said as she pulled out a couple pieces of paper, “this is a non-disclosure concerning information about your companion. By signing this you are agreeing that you will not contact your companion or disclose any specific details about him to anyone else. You may talk to anyone you wish about your experience but you cannot use any identifying descriptions that may lead to his unwanted exposure.”

You took a quick look at the piece of paper and signed it. Knowing that this was part of the requirements put your mind at ease. You knew there would be one on your behalf as well.

“And this final document lays out more specifics concerning your encounter. What each of you has consented to and requested prior to your appointment. However, you will notice this clause,” she pointed with her unpainted index finger, “explains that you can withdraw consent for any activity at any time without repercussion. In the event things get out of control and either party disregards consent, there are a handful of safety measures in place in the room.” Erin pointed to a list further down the page. “If anyone violates the consent clause, they will be banned from Scarlet Lines and charges will be pursued criminally and suits will be filed civilly. If anything happens that you are not happy with, please speak with whoever is in the lobby at the time or you can email us. Your email will be filtered directly to me and I will take care of it.”

You nodded once she finished and you signed the final document.

“Excellent! Now, Suho will escort you to the room with your companion. Unless you have any questions or concerns you would like to discuss with me?”

Smiling at Erin you shook your head, “No, I don’t have anything else. I appreciate how thorough you are and the level of care. I wasn’t expecting this but it has put my mind at ease.” At your compliment Erin smiled widely, “I’m glad you feel that way. I hope you and your companion enjoy your evening together.” She stood and opened the door and waiting outside with his hands behind his back was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen in person. “Ah, Suho. Always punctual. Please escort our guest to Room 510.” Nodding at Erin and smiling at you, Suho stepped into the room enough to hold his hand out to you. You placed yours in his and stood from the chair. Once in the hall, he placed your hand on crook of his elbow and led you further away from the lobby. Before you realized where he had taken you, you were standing in front of a bank of elevators and Suho had already pushed the button. The doors opened and he led you into the space and selected “5” and you watched the doors close. Acutely aware of your racing heart now that the formalities were complete, you closed your eyes in an attempt to calm down. You felt a warm hand pat the hand holding Suho’s arm. “First time using Scarlet Lines?” “Man, it must be obvious,” you joked in an attempt to distract yourself.

Suho smiled and turned to face you, “It’s not as scary as you may think. A lot of people end up finding long-term partners or spouses. Those of us who have take care to make sure anyone using the service are safe and well-matched. Why do you think you had so much to do in order to apply?”

“People start relationships with people they meet at Scarlet Lines?” you replied, clearly shocked.

“Of course. Sex and intimacy are critical components to any relationship. When you find someone who matches you well, it’s a natural progression,” Suho responded. “I met my wife four years ago by using Scarlet Lines. I was busy and lonely. Hands down the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Wow,” you murmured to yourself.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to the fifth floor. Suho stepped out and pulled you gently along with him. Halfway down the hall from the elevators he paused in front of an unassuming door marked “510.”

“Your companion is waiting for you whenever you want to enter. It should be unlocked right now and he has had time to comply with your agreed upon requests. Do you have any questions before I leave you?”

You shook your head at him and murmured a soft, “Thank you.”

Suho gave you a gently smile and a light pat on your shoulder. “Enjoy your evening.”

Suddenly, he was gone and you were staring at the door in front of you. The anticipation of the day was making your skin buzz and you hoped whoever was behind the door would be well worth all the trouble. Taking a deep breath, you twisted the knob and, as promised, the door was unlocked. You stepped inside and closed the door softly behind you and locked it. As you heard the gentle click of the door closing, you noticed the soft lighting in the room. The bed to your right was large--likely king size and had a simple white duvet covering it. The heavy drapes covered the large windows so you knew you would have your privacy.

In the center of the room you saw your companion for the evening. His back was to the door but you could tell he was fit. He had broad shoulders that tapered down into a trim waist. His dress pants hugged his narrow hips but it was clear how his ass filled out the back of his pants nicely. You vaguely thought about biting it later. If he was into that…

As per your request, he was kneeling and you could see the tie of the blindfold resting snuggly at the back of his head. His hair was slightly wavy and you felt your hand twitch with the desire to run your hand through it. It just seemed so soft.

You gently set your bag down and slipped your jacket off to lay on top of it. You saw him tilt his head at the sound of you slowly moving closer. He stayed still as you moved to stand in front of him so you could see his face. Even with the blindfold you saw he was devastatingly handsome. He wore a small smile on his lips but you could tell there were some nerves behind it. You knelt in front of him, aware he couldn’t see you but tried to offer some reassurance before starting. You noticed his ears protruding from under the blindfold and you resisted, for now, your desire to gently rub your fingers along the shell. You had always had a thing for ears.

“Hello,” you said softly.

His smile grew and he responded to you in kind, “Hello.”

Oh god, his voice is like melted caramel, you thought as you started to feel the beginning of your arousal overcoming your nerves from earlier.

“What’s your name?” you asked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chanyeol.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Chanyeol,” you responded softly. “Thank you for complying with my requests, by the way. Would you like to see me first before we start?”

“Actually, I really like the idea of just touching you and allowing my imagination fill in the gaps,” he said and you noticed he flushed slightly at his confession.

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you. Do you want to have a safe word?”

“We probably should just in case. What’s yours?”

“Mine is Potato.”

“Potato?” he chuckled. “Can I ask why?”

Grateful he couldn’t see your face in this moment, you responded, “It’s the name of my cat. I figured it would be easier to remember than a random word.”

“Fair enough,” he responded. “My safe word is Toben. It’s my dog’s name. Pet-themed safe words sound fun.”

“Works for me if it works for you. Do you want to…you know…start?” you nervously asked.

With a shaky breath Chanyeol answered, “I’m ready if you’re ready.”

At this you stood in front of him and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. Chanyeol sighed and lifted his hands as though he was going to touch you but hesitated, “Can I touch you, please?”

“Of course,” you responded as you continued to use one hand to run through his hair while the other gently stroked his face.

“He lifted his hands and they quickly landed on your calves. He ran his hands down your legs and he leaned forward slightly to feel that you still had your pumps on. Feeling your choice of shoes, you noticed him smile again before he said, “Thank you for agreeing to my requests. Did you do all of them or just the shoes?”

All of them,” you whispered as you trailed your thumb along his plump lower lip.

He shuddered slightly at your tone and quickly captured your thumb between his lips. He nipped gently at the appendage and licked his tongue over the tip. He began to alternate between licking, biting, and sucking the end of your thumb and it was easy to imagine him treating your clit with this care and reverence.

You let out a shaky breath and withdrew your thumb from his lips and you heard a slight whine come from the back of his throat. You leaned down and gave him a soft but short kiss that caused him to chase your lips for more. His hands had been roaming along your legs during this demonstration and they were now gently stroking from the edge of your panties down to your ankles and back again.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, “I just want to touch more of you.”

“You will,” you replied attempting to keep your voice level. You took a couple of quick steps backwards and out of Chanyeol’s grasp.

“Where’d you go?” he whimpered with a slight desperation to his voice.

As you leaned against the wall for support you answered, “I’m right here, come find me.”

Your challenge caused Chanyeol to tilt his head and a playful smirk to bloom on his face. “Marco,” he said.

“Polo,” you responded with a playful sing-song tone in your voice.

He began to crawl towards the sound of your voice, still obeying your initial request to remain on his knees until he was given permission to rise. “Marco,” he questioned again.

“Polo,” you replied, this time with a sultry and breathy tone.

At the change in your voice, you heard Chanyeol’s breath hitch as he asked one last time, “Marco.”

He was directly in front of you and he knew it. His hands were resting on the floor next to your shoes and his thumbs were running along the edges of the toes but he was still on all fours. His face was inches from your heat and you heard his small groan as he smelled your arousal that had barreled into you since walking into the room.

“Polo,” you whispered above him while looking down at his form. You had never been able to convince past lovers to try any kind of domination role reversals. They had always expected you to submit to them and it often left you wanting and bored. Seeing such a strong and tall man at your feet, waiting for you and respecting your pacing was far more arousing than you thought possible.

At your response, Chanyeol ran his hands up your legs again and pushed the skirt of your dress up. You threaded your hands through his hair again and he sighed with contentment.

“I caught you,” he said lowly, “do I get a reward?”

“What would you like?”

“Can I take your panties off?”

“I really wish you would,” you responded in a voice you didn’t recognize.

His breath caught in his throat at your answer and he slid his hands up to slip his fingers under the lace that lined the top of your panties. He stilled, as a thought occurred to him. He moved his fingertips away but held your hips firmly in his large, warm hands. He then moved slowly forward, and ran his nose along your covered slit and took a long inhale.

You moaned softly at his change of tactics and with your sound he continued with his slow and purposeful ministrations. He rubbed his nose into your folds and bumped your clit while he breathed in your intoxicating scent. Losing himself, he nuzzled into the juncture where your legs met your pelvis and you leaned your head back against the wall and enjoyed the small pleasure he was taking in your body. This kind of body worship and intimacy was exactly what you had been searching for when you sent your request to Scarlet Lines.

Tugging his hair slightly, Chanyeol pulled back and tilted his face towards yours despite his inability to see. “Is this okay? Do I need to stop or do something different?”

You swooned at his care but then said, “I thought you were going to take my panties off.”

“I’m getting there,” he replied with a smirk on his face again.

“Get there faster.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With your instructions, he ran his nose one last time against your slit and when you were expecting his fingers to hook into the side of your panties, he surprised you again. Instead, he rubbed his face along your panties until his mouth reached the lacy top and he hooked the band into his teeth. Your breath hitched as you felt his teeth graze your skin and he began to pull down your panties with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you stepped out of your now soiled panties. He turned his face upwards to you again and had what you could only describe as a shit-eating grin on his face. Feeling as though Chanyeol had a little too much power in this moment, you trailed the back of your fingers up along his face. When your hand slipped in his hair, you grabbed a handful at the crown of his head and gently pulled his head back.

In this position, you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing and his breathing had escalated quickly. “You look a little too pleased with yourself,” you teased.

“You would be too if you could hear and smell how turned on you are right now,” he breathed out.

Leaning down, your hand still loosely gripping his hair, you whispered in his ear, “I think you created a problem and you should take responsibility for it.” You made sure your lips brushed along his ear as you insinuated his next task.

“I have some ideas of how I could help you out,” the smirk was back.

Running your hands through his hair again, you heard his gentle sigh. His smirk was gone but there was a small smile of contentment on his face. You would have to remember this for later.

“Well, I’m interested to see what ideas you have for helping me with my problem. If you do a good job, I may be inclined to assist with your rather large problem.”

He chucked at your words and replied, “I would really appreciate any help you may be able to give me. First though,” he ran a slow hand from your ankle to behind your knee, “let’s take care of you.”

With those words, he steaded one of your hips with one hand and lifted the leg he had been stroking to rest over his opposite shoulder. With your core more exposed to him, he loudly moaned at your scent. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along your lips to taste your arousal.

“Oh baby, you’re in for it.”

His next moves caused you to close your eyes and moan. He practically dove in with his tongue outstretched to taste you fully. It took him very little time before he found your clit. Brushing it with the tip of his tongue caused your hips to jerk forward. You felt him chuckle as he licked it again, this time with more pressure. You gripped his hair for something to brace yourself with but were careful not to tug too harshly. You really wanted to see what ideas and skills he had at his disposal.

Chanyeol moaned into you and you felt the vibrations of his mouth edge you closer to the release you desperately needed. His skill with his tongue was evident as he continued to lick and apply pressure where you needed it.

“More, Chanyeol, I’m so close. More,” you groaned in your half delirious state. You couldn’t remember the last time someone ate you out with such enthusiasm and skill.

Leaning your head against the wall, suddenly unable to handle the weight of it, you felt a slight pressure at your entrance as Chanyeol slipped a long finger into you.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” you whimpered an you could feel Chanyeol’s grin buried in your folds. He moved his finger stretching you and quickly added a second. The stretch felt euphoric and you sighed into it. Not long after adding his fingers, he curled them forward and found your g spot. The stimulation caused you to buck your hips forward again and you felt the grip from his other hand tighten in an effort to keep you still.

“Please don’t stop,” you said over and over again. Chanyeol obeyed your request and with a graze of his teeth against your swollen nub you came harder than you had ever thought possible.

Chanyeol slowed his fingers and mouth and pulled away from you as you came down from your blissful high. When you opened your eyes, you felt yourself pulse again at the sight before you. He was still on his knees, mouth and chin glistening from your orgasm and he was sucking your juices from his fingers. The sight made you involuntarily shiver and you were reminded just how turned on you still were.

“Chanyeol,” you sid in a breathy voice, “will you come up here?”

At your request, he stood slowly. He ran his hands along your legs and sides, causing you to shudder again. You were so sensitive you were certain he could make you come again quickly and with very little effort.

Once he stood fully, he towered over you. One hand reached to cup your face and with a small smile he said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whispered softly before leaning forward for a light kiss. He still tasted of you and it made you hum in satisfaction.

“How’re you doing so far?”

“I’m great,” you laughed lightly, “although…”

Grinning slyly you responded, “I was wondering about how quickly you could give me another one using only these big hands of yours.”

While you were speaking you pulled the hand gently stroking your cheek and slowly took his index and middle fingers into your mouth. You began to stroke them with your tongue, licking and sucking on them while watching Chanyeol’s face. These were the same fingers that had been inside you, aiding his mouth to bring you over the edge.

At your words and actions, you watched his jaw drop slightly and his breathing began to escalate again as he felt your tongue work his fingers. He immediately began thinking of what it would be like for you to suck on something else.

Still blindfolded, you knew the feeling of your mouth would continue to affect him. To test your theory, you ran one hand down his chest, causing his breath to hitch at your gentleness. Once you reached his belt, you palmed him over his pants. As soon as he felt your hand apply just enough pressure to simultaneously give him some relief as well as torture him further, his head dropped to rest against yours. You pressed a bit firmer, causing him to moan lowly in your ear. The sound made your skin feel electric and your core to throb with the desire for another orgasm. You needed him to give you another or you were worried you would combust.

Before you could say anything else, Chanyeol slipped his free hand to the small of your back and pulled you flush against him. He took his fingers from your mouth and trailed them slowly down your front. He felt the swell of your breast as he moved his hand further down to where you desperately needed him.

When his hand reached your entrance, he teased his fingers along the outside of your lips and listened to your breath become slightly more labored.

“You’re going to want to hold onto me, Y/N,” Chanyeol whispered seductively in your ear. “I’m taking your up on your challenge.”

You quickly moved your hands to his biceps and barely had time to marvel at how deliciously strong he was before you felt him slip the two teasing fingers into you slowly. You moaned loudly at the feeling, relieved to be full again and simultaneously wishing he was penetrating you with something else.

Pushing your desire for more of him down, you let yourself go and enjoyed the feeling of him working you with just his hand. He curved his fingers and found your g spot again easily and began his assault to bring you over your edge a second time. His thumb kept a sporadic rhythm on your clit and you felt his lips trail along the side of your face, nibble at your ear, and kiss gently along your jaw and neck.

“Chanyeol,” you whispered.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I’m so close…”

“Already? I just started my fun,” he teased. He kissed you gently and you opened your mouth to grant him entrance immediately. He tasted like honey with a hint of peppermint and it caused you to moan again into his mouth. You slipped a hand along his neck and into his hair at the base of his skull. You then hooked one leg around his causing a change in the angle of his hand that was busy working into you.

Chanyeol moved his hand from the small of your back and gripped your thigh to help hold you in place. Though his other hand was busy between your legs, you could feel his hips slightly rutting, looking subconsciously for some friction.

All of the sensations were beginning to overwhelm you and you felt like your skin was on fire. With a nip at your bottom lip along with a well timed graze of his fingertips inside you, you clamped down on his fingers and began to moan. You stiffened through your second orgasm, this one much stronger than the first and you felt yourself breathing heavily against Chanyeol’s neck.

Once you had ridden out your high, he pulled his fingers from you again and released your leg. He moved his hand to your lower back again to help keep you steady and close to him.

You released his hair but moved to the back of his head to undo the tie of his blindfold. He blinked a couple times as he adjusted to having his sight again and smiled softly as his eyes met yours. With your gaze on him, you pulled the hand that had been inside you to your mouth and kept eye contact as you sucked your release from his fingers.

His large eyes widened as he watched you and he took his bottom lip between his teeth as you felt his hips push forward gently. Even through his pants, you felt how hard he was and you were impressed with the focus he had kept on you and your pleasure up to this point of the evening. You removed his fingers from your mouth and he immediately buried his hand in your hair to tilt your head back and leaned down to capture your lips again.

Chanyeol kissed you slowly this time, as if he were trying to map the shape of your mouth and tongue with his for his memory. The kiss was languid and sensual causing you to mentally acknowledge how good of a kisser he was. Scarlet Lines could not have paired you with anyone suiting your ideal type more. You hoped, deep down, that if you continued to use their service that you and Chanyeol would to be paired again.

Remembering that he had yet to come you pulled away causing Chanyeol to chase your lips with his eyes closed and a soft whine emanating from the back of his throat. You chuckled at his reaction and reached your hand down to palm at the bulge in his pants again. “Don’t you think it’s your turn?”

“We’ll get there but, believe me, I’m enjoying myself immensely.”

Humming at his response with a small smile on your face you slipped from his embrace and backed towards the bed so he could see your full appearance for the first time. “We can enjoy ourselves just as much from the bed, don’t you think? I’m not sure how much longer I can balance on these shoes, considering how hard you’ve already made me come.”

He watched you with an almost predatory longing on his face as he ran his eyes down your figure, lingering at the curves along your chest and hips. You sat at the edge of the bed and crossed your legs slowly as he watched while you traced along your bottom lip with your tongue. He reached down and palmed himself roughly along the front of his pants and you could hear him groan as he bit his lip. Finally, after he seemed to have memorized your appearance he walked to you and as you started to reach for him, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest.

“Just give me a moment to appreciate you a little more,” Chanyeol said softly causing a shiver to run down your spine at his low seductive tone.

“I don’t want to be too greedy though,” you pouted at him. “I want to make you feel good too.”

“Trust me, I am enjoying everything we’re doing. The cherry on top was when you removed the blindfold and I could actually see how stunning you are. I’m just trying to memorize all of this, all of you.”

You flushed slightly at his sweet words and you began to feel a warmth pull into your chest as well as your abdomen. “Okay,” you whispered.

With your acknowledgement he bent to one of his knees. Keeping his eyes on your face his slipped his hand down your calf until he reached your foot and slipped your heel off. You sighed in relief of the freedom you felt immediately. Chanyeol chuckled at your response before replying, “Lay back and just enjoy how I take care of you.”

Heeding his words you stretched out on your back as he began to give your foot a gentle massage, working out the soreness in your toes and the knot that had formed in the arch of your foot. His warm hands felt like magic as he skillfully managed to release the pain you had begun to feel from the shoes. After a couple minutes and ensuring you were fully relaxed, he moved and began to do the same to the other leg and foot. You hummed as you appreciated Chanyeol’s unexpected ministrations.

With a thought, you lifted yourself to your elbows and surveyed him. He wore a small smile and his face shone with contentment. “Chanyeol,” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“I really want to touch you. Can you…” you hesitated.

“Just ask, Y/N. The worst I can say is no.”

“I just, I really want you to take your clothes off. I want to feel you.”

Hearing the want in your voice made him pause the work he was doing on a particularly stubborn knot along your calf. He looked at your face and he could see how much you desired him in this moment. He was used to the occasional compliment and he knew women, and some men, appreciated his physical form but he was unaccustomed to the intensity and longing he saw when he looked at you.

He gently released your leg and slipped an arm behind your back and pulled you forward to lean against him. Seated on the edge of the bed with Chanyeol on his knee between your open legs gave you a very slight height advantage. You cupped his face to kiss him as he ran his free hand up the skirt of your dress to stroke along your thigh. You hummed lowly at his taste but you knew you wanted to taste other parts of him.

You slipped your hands from his face and began to unbutton his shirt. As you were undressing him, you could feel Chanyeol’s lips on your neck, ears, and along your collarbone. The hand on your leg began to push the dress up your thighs so you would be more exposed. As the air hit your bare core, you had a sharp intake of breath at the realization that you were wetter than you had ever been and still very much turned on.

Feeling the sudden need to have Chanyeol inside you as soon as possible caused you to begin to yank and fumble with his clothes. You felt more than heard the chuckle in his chest as your hands changed pace.

“Are you in a hurry, Y/N?” he asked against your ear as he licked along the shell.

“I just--I need you--please Chanyeol,” your voice shook as your hands struggled with his belt.

Moving his hands to cup your face he made eye contact with you. He could see the level of desperation you were feeling and you didn’t care. You just wanted him to know that if he waited much longer you were going to implode.

“Why don’t I just take care of this and you can watch?”

“Yes, please. But I don’t know how much more teasing I can take so hurry? Please?”

Flashing you a wide smile that caused your heart to stutter at how utterly gorgeous he was, you lifted the hem of your dress and pulled it above your head. The dress you wore wasn’t practical for a bra so you leaned back on your elbows again, completely bare before Chanyeol while you were waiting for him to do the same. His mouth was open slightly and you saw him trace his top lip with his tongue as the rest of him was frozen while he stared at the image you gave him.

You had managed to unbutton most of his shirt so you chuckled when he practically yanked the shirt from his pants and fumbled with the remaining few buttons. By the time you had gotten to his belt you were so desperate that you only managed to fumble with it, not making much headway with removing it. Chanyeol quickly undid the front and rather than take the belt off completely, simply undid the button and zipper on his slacks and slipped his pants and belt down with one quick movement.

He stood, still between your open legs, clad only in black boxer briefs. You leaned forward and reached for him, eyes glued to the wet spot from leaking through. Slipping your hands behind his muscular thighs you mouthed at his clothed erection and looked up to see Chanyeol’s Adam’s apple bob as his head was thrown back. He had slipped his hands into your hair and was gently massaging your scalp.

You slipped your hands up to the waistband of his underwear and slipped them down his legs. Chanyeol brought his head forward and locked eyes with you as you removed the last barrier between the two of you. You looked down and nearly moaned at the sight of his length, leaking and hard for you. Eager for a taste, you slipped a hand to wrap around the base and leaned forward to lick along his slit and took the head into your mouth and sucked lightly.

Chanyeol’s hands flexed in your hair and you knew he was holding onto a small sliver of self control. He confirmed your thoughts when he said with a shaky voice, “Y/N...I don’t know how long I’ll last with you doing that. I’ve been hard for too long…”

In response you leaned forward and took a little more into your mouth and dragged your tongue along the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. You pulled back and dropped your hands as one of Chanyeol’s hands immediately grabbed the base and gripped tightly. As you examined his face, you noticed his eyes were closed and his brow furrowed while he bit his lip. A vein in his neck was protruding at the effort he was putting forth to shut down his quick approaching orgasm.

You watched as he relaxed and removed his hand, his dick still looking angry and red in front of you. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, the lust and desperation written across his face.

“Promise me something, Chanyeol.”

“Whatever you want, Y/N. Name it.”

“Next time, let me suck you dry,” you said licking your lips as your eyes flickered from his to the erection in front of you.

Choking slightly in surprise he responded, “Next time? You want to do this again with me?”

Slightly confused as to why he was so uncertain you locked eyes with him, “Of course I want a next time. This is probably the best sex I’ve ever had. We haven’t even fucked yet and I already want more.”

Clear relief showed on his face as Chanyeol leaned over you and titled your head back for a hard and messy kiss. “Thank god. I think I would cry if I never got to be with you again.”

You detached from him and began to scoot slowly back along the bed. “Are you joining me on the bed? Or do you just want to watch as I get myself off again with my fingers?”

“Mmmmm another time, baby, I need to feel you around me before I explode,” he responded as he crawled up the bed and settled between your legs. With one hand he gripped himself and ran the head along your wet entrance. The other held him up as he looked at you, “We agreed no condom, right?”

“Right.”

Chanyeol leaned down to give you a quick kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You placed your hands along his sides, running them up and down feeling the muscles there. “Please Chanyeol, fuck me. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

With a quick intake of breath at your words, he pushed gently forward and slid in slowly to give you time to adjust. You had been aroused for so long that the pressure of him filling you felt like the most delicious and satisfying pleasure you didn’t realize you needed. It didn’t take him long before his hips met yours and he was seated completely inside you.

As you shifted slightly and were ready to move against him, Chanyeol grabbed one of your hips firmly and you noticed he was struggling again to keep a hold of himself. “You’re so tight and hot and so wet, Y/N. This may be the best thing I’ve ever felt so please, I need just a minute so I don’t finish too fast.”

Heeding his request, you took the time to stroke your hands through his hair again and Chanyeol seemed to subconsciously lean into your touch and he relaxed slightly despite his struggle. You closed the short distance and kissed him lightly a few times until he had the presence to kiss you back. You felt his body relax into you and he held himself up on his elbows as he caged you between his arms.

As you continued to kiss and enjoy the softness in the act, you began to run your hands lightly along his back. You felt Chanyeol start to rock his hips slowly into you and you moved along with him. This slow, soft, and sensual sex was far closer to love making than fucking but you let yourself enjoy it and relish in the physical intimacy you had been craving. Chanyeol had made you feel like the center of the universe and his touches and attention were everything you needed.

His pace began to pick up slowly and he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his hip allowing him to hit you deeper. You moaned his name loudly with this new angle knowing you wouldn’t last long.

Opening your eyes you saw the sweat begin to bead along his temples and you could tell you had worked up a sweat as well. Chanyeol opened his eyes to look at you and as your gaze met you felt his free hand slip between you and begin to rub rough circles along your clit. The added stimulation had you coming for the third time as your eyes fluttered closed and your back arched off the bed, your chest connecting with Chanyeol’s.

He did his best to help prolong your orgasm but you could tell his thrusts were becoming more frantic and less rhythmic and he moaned your name as he came hard inside you. He nearly collapsed on top of you but managed to catch himself in time to lower himself and buried his face into your neck to plant soft kisses there. You ran your hands up and down his back and along his shoulders as he sporadically gave gentle thrusts into you.

Chanyeol pulled back and gave you a satisfied and lazy grin as he sat up on his knees to watch as he pulled himself out of you. You whined a little, you had enjoyed how he had felt buried inside of you and you weren’t ready for him to pull out just yet. As if he knew what you were thinking, Chanyeol gave you a smile but then directed his attention back to your core as he watched his cum leak out of you slowly.

You watched his face as his focus was on the cream pie between your legs and found yourself wishing, though you were a little sore, that he would eat you out one last time and let you taste his cum on his tongue. Next time, you thought to yourself.

Once he had his fill of watching the mess he made, Chanyeol got up and quickly strode to the bathroom. You closed your legs, feeling the soreness in your hip flexors and making a mental note to take an extra restorative yoga class if you could in the near future. Eyes closed you rolled onto your side to relish in the post-sex glow. As soon as you got comfortable, Chanyeol was back with a warm cloth and his deep voice in your ear.

“Y/N. Sweetheart, let me clean you up?”

“Okay,” you replied, eyes still closed with a small smile on your lips. You rolled over enough to open your legs and he took time and care to clean you up as best as he could in the circumstances. You heard him toss the wash cloth somewhere and a tug under you causing you to open an eye and glare at Chanyeol for interrupting your comfort.

“It’ll be more comfortable under the covers, don’t you think?” Chanyeol teased.

You groaned and adjusted yourself just enough to wiggled under the covers and he slipped in next to you. He quickly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him allowing you to rest your head on his chest.

“Is this okay?” he whispered into your hair.

“Mmmhmm. It’s perfect,” you slurred sleepily.

You could feel him smiling into your hair as he took a deep breath, smelling your shampoo. “You smell nice.”

“You smell nice too,” you said smiling but keeping your eyes closed.

“Did you mean it?” you felt Chanyeol whisper into your hair.

“Mean what?”

“About a next time.”

You sat up slightly and balanced yourself on Chanyeol’s chest and shoulder as you looked at him. He was nervously chewing on his lower lip, his eyes held a guarded fear as he waited for your answer.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. This has been truly incredible. I’m planning on telling them that I only want you until you’re not interested in sleeping with me anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really. And if you want a next time as well, I think we should ask for a full night because I wish we could nap and then go again. And maybe be able to shower together in the morning. It’s okay if that’s not what you want though; I just think it would be nice.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at you in surprise. “I’d really like that too,” he said, still seeming to be in shock.

“Then we should tell them. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again.”

You both laid there quietly as you settled back into his side as he stroked his hands lightly along your arm. You made a mental about how you owed Amber big time and made a small noise as you smiled when you thought about her reaction when you finally told her.

“What is is?” Chanyeol asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about how much I owe my friend Amber for telling me about this place.”

Chanyeol froze at the mention of your friends name. “Amber?” he asked. “You have a friend named Amber who knows about this place?”

“Yeah, why?”

Chanyeol started laughing loudly and you felt the sound warm you from the inside out. “It’s just,” he rubbed his free hand along his face as he continued to chuckle. “I have a friend named Taemin who hooked me up here after he and his friend Amber tried it out.”

At his revelation you sat up and turned to him again, “You have a friend named Taemin? Who also has a friend named Amber? And they’ve both tried Scarlet Lines? No...what are the odds, do you think?”

“Is your friend Amber Liu?”

“Oh my GOD!!!”

You both stared at each other and burst into laughter at the same time.

#chanyeol smut #exo smut #chanyeol #exo scenarios #kpopwonderlandtag #chanyeol x reader #exo fanfics #park chanyeol #honey and peppermint #yoosmekihyun

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elyvorg · 5 years ago

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I would love to hear if there's a particular fic bit that you've been dying to talk about! :D

Well, at first my answer to this was, “nothing off the top of my head?”, since I reblogged that post less because I’d been thinking of anything specific recently and more because it’d been on my dash three times. But I’d definitely felt that way about certain parts at some point in the past, so I went and reread the fic (this is the Shadow Kaito fic I’m talking about, of course, being the most recent lengthy fic of mine and me being still mostly in V3-mode) to refresh my memory. And now the response is, “not one particular part. Several particular parts”.

I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m emphatically not, and I know you’re not going to complain about this either. =P

“But still… they were always gonna find out sooner or later, y’know? Hell, knowing Shuichi, he probably already figured it out a while back, right?”

Kaito’s gaze darted to Shuichi, his eyes flashing with alarm and… something else, something that made Shuichi reach for the brim of a hat that wasn’t there.

In the early conception of this moment, my mental simulation of Shuichi simply kind of flinched when Kaito looked at him here. As I tried to figure out why, I remembered that oh yeah, Shuichi has some issues with eye contact, particularly of an intense nature - and then it occurred to me that the way Kaito was looking at him here was actually directly connected to those issues. It’s not “hatred” - Kaito would never hate Shuichi - but it’s that same kind of hurt, accusatory “how dare you uncover my secrets, they weren’t yours to know” from the part of Kaito that’s terrified he knows everything, and it feels all too uncomfortably like the culprit from that one case. Since that was a very fun notion, I wanted to get it across, but only very subtly because Shuichi would never consciously acknowledge that Kaito had had that effect on him. So I was really pleased when I came up with the reference to his hat and his instinctive reflex to hide his eyes behind it when something like this happens.

“It’s so obvious who I am. Shuichi can see the truth, but all I can do is run away from it like a coward.”

Originally when I wrote this line that leads to Kaito fully denying his Shadow, I wanted to get across the idea that, since everyone can already see that the Shadow is obviously him, Kaito is only making himself look even weaker by not being able to face it (which just pushes him even further into desperate irrational denial instead of cutting his losses and accepting it). At first I couldn’t word that right and the Shadow was basically directly saying as such, until I managed to streamline it here into a line which implies it better.

But here’s the fun thing - I wrote this part before properly getting through the trial 4 section of my Kaito ramble and figuring out exactly what’s going on in Kaito’s head during that trial and what the root of the problem is. So when I did figure that out, it was pretty great to look back at this bit and realise that I’d already written Kaito doing pretty much the same thing without actually having known at the time that something like this essentially happens in canon, too. “Shuichi can see the truth, but all I can do is run away from it like a coward” is a perfect description of what Kaito is doing in trial 4, but I didn’t know that when I first wrote that line!

A bunch of other bits in this fic were deliberately drawing off things I talk about in the Kaito ramble - “Heroes aren’t supposed to be this way!” comes to mind - but I think this was the only bit where the parallel happened backwards by complete chance.

Shuichi doesn’t see the Shadow’s true form until quite late in the game and Maki sees it pretty immediately and more or less gets it straight away, but Kaito? Kaito also notices the Shadow’s true form quite early on - and then his mind just does a big NOPE on acknowledging it or thinking about it, because he’s totally got better things to be doing, like rescuing Shuichi, right. (But what he gets from it is not, like Shuichi and Maki do, that he’s hurting himself by taking on their burdens without worrying about his own problems - he just sees it as meaning he’s too weak to support them.)

There was in fact a far better way Kaito could have “saved” Shuichi - by believing in his ability to save himself and simply encouraging him to do that. Shuichi was too nervous to climb down on his own until he felt like he absolutely needed to, but Kaito could have talked him through it, giving him the confidence to do so and reassuring him that he’d be there to catch him if he messed up. Exactly like Kaito always should be doing for his sidekick! But not here, because this is chapter 4, and because everything Kaito’s just heard has made him desperate to prove it all wrong and show that he’s “strong” enough to very directly save Shuichi and be the hero.

“I always say that,” the Shadow said. “I tell everyone, ‘I’ll do something about this’, but I never have a clue what to actually do.”

“Shut up!” yelled Kaito. He flailed one of his arms at the lights as if trying to swat them away, to no avail. “Get outta my face!”

“I’m hurt. I’m scared.” The stars’ brightness intensified, and Shuichi hated how powerless he was to stop what was coming. “Heroes aren’t supposed to be this way!”

“Sh-Shut up!” Kaito tried to turn his head away from the stars, but they were all around him. He screwed his eyes shut instead. “Y-You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

In earlier drafts, Kaito’s protests and denial at his Shadow before it attacks him both times were pretty nondescript and interchangeable, but in editing I tried to tighten that up a bit. Now the idea is that each time Kaito’s reaction essentially reflects what the Shadow is saying about him and proves it right even as he’s denying it.

Despite all the pain relating to his own issues he goes through in this, the absolute worst and most terrifying moment of it for Kaito was when he thought his Shadow was about to kill Shuichi while he was powerless to stop it.

(The Shadow threatening to do that and Shuichi figuring out that it was a just bluff to hurt Kaito was actually one of the earliest ideas I had for how part of the “fight” might go, before I’d even remotely pinned down the Shadow’s berserk form. As a placeholder, I was picturing some vague giant shadowy creature picking Shuichi up in its hands and threatening to crush him or something.)

While Kaito was immensely relieved that Shuichi wasn’t going to die, he otherwise hated it when Shuichi figured out his Shadow’s intentions. That was Shuichi saving himself by using his intellect and realising that Kaito was the vulnerable one who needed protecting (and also that this Shadow definitely was him), none of which are things Kaito wanted to be true. The stubborn desperation to prove that all wrong was what gave him the strength to stand up again, even though he couldn’t a moment ago when Shuichi’s life was apparently in danger (because all that moment made him feel was utter terror at his helplessness).

It’s also not a coincidence that the moment at which Kaito clams up and stops saying anything for a while is just after Shuichi starts very directly protecting him. At that point, it seems indisputable to him that Shuichi knows who the real hero is and who’s really in need of protecting, such that there’s nothing Kaito can say to try to deny it any more, while he also still can’t bring himself to admit the truth. At first when I wrote this bit I wasn’t completely sure if my simulation of Kaito retreating into himself and being unresponsive for a long time was truly in character for him - it doesn’t seem very Kaito-like on the surface - but then it occurred to me that actually this is basically also what Kaito does in the first half of chapter 5 in response to a not-entirely-dissimilar set of circumstances, so yes, it definitely is in character.

“What you just said is that you don’t trust us,” Maki snapped. “You think we’d turn our backs on you if we knew about this.” Her mace crashed into the Shadow, harder than before. “How stupid can you be?” Fuelled by her frustration, she grew relentless, striking him over and over again. “How could you possibly think – after you accepted me for who I am – that I would ever not do the same for you?”

Part of the reason Maki gets so furious and relentless here is that as she’s saying all this, she’s realising that, oh, wait, her own offhand comments about Kaito being an idiot or a coward prooooobably did not help any with him trusting her not to turn her back on him, and she’s starting to feel rather guilty about that.

Maki first hits Shadow Kaito in the torso, which is the least weak part of him since he’s a statue, but later when Kaito’s accepted him and the berserk form just needs to be destroyed, Maki simply shatters his limbs to end it immediately. She could have done that the whole time - but what she was trying to do in the beginning wasn’t to force the Shadow to drop the pedestal, but rather to persuade him to choose to drop it of his own volition by making carrying it even more difficult. It occurred to me that the amount of time between Maki leaving and returning was probably a little too long for her to have spent just running all the way to her lab and back at full pelt. So then I decided that she paused for a while in her lab as she picked up the mace and pictured herself destroying something that looked like Kaito with it, which made her shudder and reconsider exactly what the Shadow was and whether attacking it would really help. She came to the conclusion that it’s essentially Kaito’s “enemy” and therefore she needed to help him fight it rather than just easily winning the fight herself.

Despite everything, Kaito was smiling. Not a huge, dazzling grin for the sake of others, but a quiet smile that was just for himself.

I wrote this line perfectly innocently, and then it occurred to me that there is in fact one time in canon in which Kaito smiles like this, and it’s when he is in SPACE. Then I had a lot of emotions.

“I’m alright now.”

This is just after Shuichi and Maki have encouraged Kaito to accept his Shadow; this is also exactly what Kaito says in the correct route of his Harmonious Heart when Shuichi convinces him to be okay about showing his weakness. Probably nobody was ever going to notice that, but I wanted to put it there anyway.

The lunar lander had landed, standing quite stably on the three legs that it had always had, as if those two statues on top had never really needed Shadow Kaito’s support at all.

That’s not true, Shuichi thought fervently as the implications of this sank in. How could even a part of Kaito have ever thought that?

There have been many points during my V3 commentary at which I have wanted to say “and that’s why the pedestal has legs.” But I couldn’t, because readers of the commentary may not have read this fic and would be very confused.

“I shouldn’t have blamed everything on you, when you’re no different from anybody else.”

At some point after I wrote this line, it brought to mind a line from the game Celeste, during Shadow Madeline’s explosion of rage, where she says, “You think you can blame everything on me!?” I thought that was a neat unintentional similarity. Don’t blame everything on your Shadow. It will just make them sad. They are weaker than you and need to be your sidekick.

(Reminder: if you are here for my Shadow-related content, please play Celeste.)

Kaito’s gaze rose to meet his. “Time for what?” There was a quiet urgency in his voice. “What are you going to do, Shuichi?”

The narration here was me doing my best to subtly get across the sense that Kaito’s really just desperately thinking, “Please tell me you can save me, Shuichi.” Shuichi really is his hero.

Kaito’s grip tightened just a little on Shuichi’s shoulder as he looked between them both imploringly. It might have been because Shuichi knew the truth now, or just because Kaito wasn’t trying so hard to hide it anymore, but Shuichi could sense something almost anxious behind Kaito’s usual confident gaze.

“I believe in you guys,” Kaito said. “Isn’t that enough?”

And similarly, this was me trying to get across that Kaito is really, really desperate for this to be enough. Shuichi and Maki are going to be figuring out a plan to escape and save his life with their awesome talents of deductions and fighting, but Kaito’s mind isn’t wired to deduce things like Shuichi can or come up with plans, and he’s not strong enough right now to fight. He so badly wants to be able to help somehow with them forming this plan and not be useless, to prove that he really can still support them after all despite everything, but all he can do is be his usual optimistic self and believe in them, and if that isn’t enough to help then he’s just got nothing else to offer and he can’t bear that thought.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #writing #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #training trio #shadow kaito #v3 aus #kaito's hero issues #shadows #ramble #antialiasis #thanks for giving me an excuse to do this!#i really could talk about this fic forever #still totally open to ramble about any other parts anyone is interested in

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sigmalied · 7 years ago

Text

WIP Preview

Aria/Tevos

Premise: Aria has assembled a consortium of eventual subsidiaries in response to a lush world within asari space being greenlit for colonization, but she quickly encounters some complications from rival interests vying for the same plots of land. Coincidentally, these same rivals have challenged the asari councilor’s goals for the planet’s future, and the pair reach a mutually beneficial arrangement in countermeasure. But even when their business concludes, Aria can't stop thinking about her. Once the obsession becomes mutual, the pair are left to wonder whether it was all just another Nevos mirage - a temporary escapist fantasy in paradise - or something with longevity.

Effectively replaces the story Confidentiality. This preview is still pretty rough, skeletal, and lacking ambient detail, but it’s just to give an idea about what the story is. Also, a cameo of Parem Igrahal, but here she’s young, around 30. The most notable features of this story are the fact that Aria and Tevos are never antagonistic to each other, Liselle is a year or two younger than she was in Confidentiality, and Tevos’s character is less self-critical, but still as cautious.

There was an indulgent sense of tradition in meeting on a lush world to apportion another. The matriarchy had spent the last few years echoing the potential of Ryasus, their precious emerald glistening under the mists of interminable waterfalls and giant dew-heavy aroids. In the right hands, they said, Ryasus would become a second Nevos within half a century. Its exotic vistas would attract renowned filmmakers, mountain peaks penetrating the canopies would stroke egos of business executives opening new branches, and tourists wading into the shallow crystalline oceans would rather lose themselves than turn back to shore.

Aria’s judgement of the generous optimism was it being a bit out of proportion. She only agreed with their rhetoric insofar as expansion onto that beautiful, yet undefiled planet was discussed as a symptom of corporate success, and therefore encouraged. Beyond this, all the commotion had simply inspired too many interested parties to flock to petition the asari government for permits. In consequence, the competition had considerably grown. It seemed as though every household name company in the galaxy was vying for the largest chunk of untamed tropical splendor they could get their hands on.

The elevator Aria and her two bodyguards stepped into was a cuboidal space, strictly glass on every side save for the floor and the wall attached to the lifting mechanism that sent it crawling up the spine of the tower hugging the cliffside. It was commodious enough to transport a dozen individuals comfortably, and was furnished with a square arrangement of low sofas and palmed plants in each corner.

Aria led her guards to the furthermost window. While they faced the room, Aria stood gazing out at the river-cloven forests of Nevos, to where its green was engulfed by hazy gold at the horizon. She could see one wing of the building curving along with the cliff at her left; countless glinting windows on stratified white.

She could also faintly see reflected in the glass the overwhelmingly asari population periodically entering and exiting during their ascent. Tourists and businesspeople alike. But upon noticing the surly batarian and asari accompanying Aria’s mysterious figure, they would fixate on the identity of their charge. Aria’s civilian apparel, however expensive and expertly tailored, kept them guessing. None could divorce her from the powerful iconography she had established, and none dared approach her for a better look.

After a few minutes, Aria saw a few matriarchs superimpose themselves on the idyllic scenery. They were looking at her, saying nothing aloud for fear of being overheard, but Aria could tell they recognized her. She fitted her hands on her hips, content to ignore them.

Aria was not enchanted by their dreams of paradise. She dreamed not of velvety flowers and beaches, but of rich, dark soil. She dreamed of fragrant batarian tobacco fields stretching on for endless kilometers, to be one day rolled into a new brand of luxury cigars with whom she would partner.

II.

“So, Aria.” Parem rested her cigar against her plate and folded her hands together on the table. “Be honest with me. Do you really think our people are going to be able to woo the matriarch panel?”

Aria exhaled irately. “They’d damn well better.”

“The girl Senaya doesn’t have the stomach for tobacco. She takes no interest in it. And [X] is afraid of his wife. Afraid of her!”

“I know.”

“[Y]’s going to have his partnership within several years when he expires,” said the batarian woman. “Is that really who we want to work with? Maybe we should do something.”

“We can fire her and keep her from taking administrative actions, but we can’t take away her partnership. We’d have to buy her out of it, and that’s only if she’s willing to sell.”

“Don’t we have a more... traditional option of solving this problem?”

Aria subtly shook her head. “It’s not that easy here. The Republics are liable to investigate something like that. And how much effort are we willing to put in to keep it looking clean?”

“Getting rid of her may be worth any cost. You’ll see, Aria, once she’s rotting us from the inside.”

[...]

“I’ve been receiving requests from suitors,” said Parem.

“Anyone you like?”

“None. I hate looking at their faces. They only remind me of people like that salarian who would surrender his life work to the woman he doesn’t even sleep with. I keep wondering, what if I mistakenly choose an insect like him? It will be a colossal waste of my time. I can have sex with as many strong and beautiful men as I want without having to marry them. They only thing they have ever offered me that I cannot obtain myself is children, and still, I do not need to be married for that.”

“Well, I think you’ve got the right idea about things. You seem sure of what you want.” She crossed her legs beneath the table. Nearby, their personal security dealt another hand of cards.

Parem slowly nodded. Then a curiosity struck her, but it was charged with dissatisfaction when she asked, “I know you usually prefer the company of women, but have you ever slept with a batarian man, Aria?”

“Are we that familiar now?”

“Humor me, please.”

Aria turned away to face the other tables arranged across the balcony, her expression neutral and unchanging as she considered her answer. There was a wind chime mounted above the door leading back into the warmly-lit restaurant, softly ringing. “I might have.”

“They’re selfish. Greedy. They touch you like they touch a marinated roast.”

Aria’s shoulders shook with soundless amusement. With a lingering smile, she replied, “Then I guess I’m lucky,” and lowered a hand to roll the cigar’s head of ashes against the side of her plate.

III.

“I’m afraid you’re occupying my seat.”

The crispness of the northern Thessian accent, along with its mindful elocution and lack of hostility despite the declared grievance, nearly annoyed Aria. She neglected to afford the stranger so much as a glance, and instead dismissed her with a flat, “Move along.”

“I need to ask you to relocate.”

The persistence riled her. “And who the hell is asking?" When Aria at last regarded her harasser in contempt, she found a face embellished by stark white tattoos and austere cheekbones only made amiable by the serene set of her eyes. She was carrying a portfolio.

“Well, would it impress upon your opinion at all to know the asari councilor is asking?”

Aria settled on a passing insult before turning back to the stage where the panel was assembling. “I think Idras would turn over in her grave if she knew about the state of her office.”

“Idras would have never granted someone like you a visa,” said the councilor. “I see you’ve made good use of the referendum I introduced.”

“Yet I still can’t own land.”

“A necessary compromise.” Accepting the fact that Aria was as immovable as a ton of stone, she sat down with a single seat between them. “Asari space is the collective inheritance of our people, and all of asari descent should have easier access to our homeworlds regardless of citizenship. At the collateral expense of inviting people like yourself - I believe only due to your high profile mitigating your risk factor - I think we’ve done a great thing. But you raise an interesting point. Coincidentally, your landowning ability has been the topic of multiple conversations this morning.”

For a time, Aria said nothing.

The councilor continued, “The matriarchs are trying to figure out which jockeys you’ve bet on, so to speak.”

“And I’m supposed to thank you and tell you what I’m doing?” She scoffed.

“I don’t expect you to. I’m only sharing what I’ve heard.”

“Trying to make friends?”

“Avoiding making enemies, rather.”

[...]

Tevos analyzed the region Aria highlighted in the face of her datapad. “Unfortunately,” she said, “there are multiple groups interested in that area. Most notably, a mining corporation. Preliminary surveys have documented a large deposit of palladium less than a kilometer beneath the surface. Despite the inevitable environmental damages, extracting the ore is tempting to the panel because of the tax revenue it would generate.”

“Shit,” Aria hissed. “Are you serious? We’re not already out of the race, are we?”

“It appears to be the case. They’re a behemoth. They will easily eclipse any smaller outfit by name alone. If I were you I would advise my associates to prioritize other plots of land.”

“I can’t fucking believe this... We’re interested in that area specifically for its soil quality. There’s nothing else like it on that world - it’s an integral part of our branding and if we can’t get that land, we’re dead in the water.”

“If it’s any consolation, most of the matriarchy are also displeased about the probable outcome. They wanted to keep the planet pristine for tourism and ecological studies. The way this is headed, another Nevos isn’t looking very likely.”

Aria lifted a hand to rub at her temples. While she had made a point of staying for the land petitions, she had only done so as a formality in good faith for Parem’s cousin. Actually needing to take initiative to solve a problem of this scope would delay her departure by at least two or three days, and with a baby at home and her station led by her eccentric lieutenants, it was not an ideal outcome.

IV.

[In a smaller auction house in the larger building]

After placing her exorbitant bid in the console beneath the twisting marble sculpture, Aria turned to find amused incredulity dashed across the councilor’s features. Her arms were folded across her middle and a hand concealed part of the lower half of her face, as if to hide her expression.

“Do you even have a use for it?” Tevos asked her.

“Maybe I’m just an avid patron.”

She shook her head at her, glancing back to the sculpture.

“I'm going to take you to dinner,” Aria said. “Belaisa at seven.”

Despite her supreme confidence, the moment Tevos seemed to process the offer, the jovial climate between them soured and became grim.

“Aria, I appreciate the offer, but - ”

“But?”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

Aria was not yet discouraged. “Then I’ll send over a bottle of something to your room. Tell me where you’re staying.”

“I’m not giving you my room number,” Tevos replied. A vein of humor was present in her tone, but it was overshadowed by remorse. “Listen to me for a moment. The matriarchy expressed their... concerns about me speaking with you.”

“I’m sure they understand that you’re entitled to your own personal decisions.”

“Yes, but, even if our interactions are innocuous, it’s not good publicity if people start taking notice. I’m a councilor, Aria. Professionalism always comes before my personal desires. And what we did at the petition toed the line enough; although the matriarchy is pleased, they want no more of it. No more of... you. Especially if it can be avoided. You’re watched, you realize. We watch everyone in the galaxy of note, and you in particular make them very nervous.”

“And they should be nervous,” Aria asserted. “But not about what you do.”

They were quiet for a time. Aria hoped they had kept their volume low enough to not be overheard by both their personal security, who they had left at the entrance of the auction gallery, always within sight.

Tevos reached into her coat’s interior pocket to produce a small paper notepad and attached pen. She wrote something down, presented it to Aria, and said barely above a whisper, “I'd like you to call me tonight.”

She accepted the paper and gleaned what it contained: a long string of characters Aria recognized as the access to a well-encrypted line. But before Aria could lift her gaze and provocatively compliment her decision, Tevos spoke again in warning.

“If you ask why, I may suddenly regain my senses and reconsider.” She stepped away from her once, then altogether as she retreated toward the exit, only delaying to say, “Goodnight,” over her shoulder.

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