#and yeah the railing for those towers looked pretty low at least for tall people like hosogai

[xitty]

So, I noticed Wataru Hatano tweeted photo of him and Toshiki Masuda because Masuda had been guest on his web talk show. I checked it in case there happened to be something about Enstars and there was, Starry Symphony to be specific (The Dead of Night blu-ray released recently and a fan had sent a letter about it). (Hatano = Adonis' seiyuu, Masuda = Rei's seiyuu)

They talked about how high the tower platforms went during Melody in the Dark (Hatano's was quite high) and Hatano said it was scary, that it's different to high places like Tokyo Tower (which he is ok with) because it's so small. Masuda was like "but there was the railing, no?" and Hatano was like "it wasn't very reassuring!?"

Then they talked about timing things correctly and carts/trolleys and how fast they were. Hatano told that Hosogai (Kaoru's seiyuu) stumbled when they were stepping on a cart (during first day Brand New Stars I believe) because it started moving unexpectedly and Hatano hug-grabbed Hosogai so he wouldn't fall. ^^ Masuda was like "managed to live through the live". :D

Lastly they spoke about being in-character, Hatano said how awesomely in-character Masuda is on stage and how he had been told to not smile when performing [because Adonis is a serious character]. Hatano recalled how at Budoukan concert (Starry Stage 2nd, first time Undead performed) he'd been really smiley all the time.

[staranon95]

a little more action

a red hood au drabble

Trevor tries to get things back on track for the crew after Red’s disappearance. He starts up the plans for a job they intended to pull when Red first came into their lives.

Jeremy doesn’t blame him. He wants to get things rolling again. He wants the city to remember that the Fakes are still here and, yes, they will cause problems for the upper crust. Red or no Red, the crew needs to get back out there.

It’s an elaborate plan. Jeremy, Fiona, and Gav are dropping in from above on one of the tallest office towers in the city. Jack will be flying them in where they’ll parachute down in. They’ll infiltrate from the top where security is weakest and head down to the floor that has the information they need—bank account numbers, hidden offshore accounts, expenses. Which means they are going to make a living hell out of some very influential people’s lives.

They’re dropping in at around one in the morning. They’ve prepped this run for weeks now. With the clear skies, they’ll drop in at a high altitude. Jeremy can feel the fluttering beat of his heart. It’s all adrenaline, but he’s done this before. He gets a kick out of the high-altitude situation. He knows Fiona is ready to gun for it. She’s as adrenaline seeking as the rest of them and is always looking for a new rush to enjoy. She’s still pretty new at the larger jobs like this. This is the first time she’s going to take direct point and not be relegated to surveillance, getaway driving, or cleanup. And then there’s Gavin. His knees always shake badly when they’re attempting something like this, but when he gets into it, he gets into it. Usually screaming all the way down, but who doesn’t every now and then?

“All right,” Matt says from their earpieces, safely hidden back at his apartment and watching from his scores of equipment. “The jump zone is coming in quick. You’re jumping in at 10,000 feet. There are no approaching headwinds at this time, so it should be a fairly smooth decent. Keep your googles on because they’ll tell you where the building is so you won’t get lost and land on the wrong one.”

“Good thing that happened during the dry run, eh?” Gavin says, breaking the tension.

“Yeah, congrats. That took us some serious explaining as to why you landed in the penthouse pool owned by the mayor ten blocks away.”

“Cut the chit chat,” Jack says. “We’re heading into the jump zone. Good luck, guys.”

“Thank you, Jack!” Fiona is the first one out as soon as the green light is on. Then Gavin. Then Jeremy.

It’s always that first feeling of vertigo that Jeremy has to weather first when they make the jump. The feeling of his stomach dropping to his feet before his body gets used to falling. The display on his googles initiates at Matt’s command and Jeremy is given a digital layout of his target. The hard part will be the landing. They don’t have that much space and if they miss the rooftop, they’ll be sent drifting down the street.

“All right, you’ve entered the parachute zone. Pull now.”

Jeremy yanks on his cord and is prepared for the jerk back once the parachute fills. Now it’s just a matter of being gentle and patient in correcting his fall to the roof. Fiona lands first, carefully guiding herself to the edge of the building so she has the space to dig her heels in and drag her parachute down and clear the space for when Gavin makes a slightly less graceful landing. Jeremy watches him as he comes in at an angle and undoubtedly skins at least his arm along the ground before Fiona rushes in to help stop him.

“Okay,” Jeremy says. “You’re going to have to catch me.”

“We—what?” Gavin asks, sounding out of breath.

“I’m too high and I can’t take another lap or I’ll be too low. You guys will have to grab me.”

“You never make this easy, Jeremy.”

Jeremy kicks his legs in the air and prepares for his approach. Gavin and Fiona, free of their parachutes, come together and watch for Jeremy’s approach.

“Catch me, catch me, catch me!”

Gavin gets one of his legs first and pulls in on him. Fiona gets one of his arms and the three of them come crashing down onto the roof together, Jeremy laughing all the while.

“Oh man. Haven’t done that in a while,” he says, shrugging off his parachute and pulling in the lines to bundle up the fabric. They’ll be leaving everything here and take a basement exit if they can. The building isn’t tall enough to base jump safely, and Jeremy hates base jumping from within the city.

Gavin is quick to get his lockpicks out to open the roof access door for the three of them, while Jeremy and Fiona get themselves untangled from Jeremy’s lines.

“You do not make this any easier,” she says, letting a little of her frustration show, but she’s smiling.

“Where’s the fun in things going smoothly?”

“Door’s open!” Gavin stands and waves them over.

They descend with Matt’s instruction to the exact floor. They’re working into an office claimed by the CEO. From there they’ll have access to a personal computer and extract some encrypted emails. Then they go to the server room and wreak some havoc. Should be easy. They’ve been preparing for this run for months now. It’ll be a big pull in terms of information, intel, and so, so much blackmail material.

They get to the office. Jeremy is on point looking down the hall while Gavin gets Fiona inside so she can take direction from Matt on what to grab and what to do with the computer. They know all the security guards’ routines. There should be at least two of them on this floor. Maybe they’ve caught them at a break because Jeremy hasn’t seen a sign of them. All the better for them, but still. It strikes him as odd.

“Okay,” he hears Fiona say softly over their shared comms. “Downloading the emails. Should be done in thirty seconds.”

“Good, then you can get down to the server rooms,” Matt instructs. “Two floors down from your current location. The room is key card access only, so you’ll have to use that fun toy I gave you.”

“Oh, is that the one you have to pop the case off and plug into ports and shit?” Gavin asks.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my favourite.”

Gavin sighs, and Jeremy can’t help but smirk.

Once Fiona has everything, they leave, locking the door behind them to mask their presence. They move in a single file line, keeping low to the ground so they can get to the stairwell and head down two floors. The only thing about the stairwells is that they’re usually faintly lit. Nothing they can do about that, but there aren’t any cameras.

Jeremy, while still on point, takes the stairs first. He gets to the landing below and motions for the others to follow him. They repeat this until they’re on the right floor. The door to the floor requires key card access. Gavin makes a crouched approach to connect to the port and grant them automatic access. Jeremy is first out, peering around corners and keeping an ear out for the heavy footfalls of any security guard. He hears nothing so he heads in, following Matt’s instructions to where the server room is.

But the door is already open.

Uh oh.

Then the light from a flashlight pins him in his crouch. He rises up so he’s flat on his feet, keeping his center of gravity lower so he can’t easily be knocked onto his feet. From the corner of his eye he saws Gavin and Fiona move into similar positions. Gearing up for a fight.

“Well, would you look at that.” The familiar and cheeky voice cuts through the silent dark of the office. Jeremy has to squint against the flashlight to see who it is, but he already knows.

It’s Red. He’s wearing that familiar red hoodie with the hood pulled up. Over top is a heavy Kevlar vest. He’s wearing a slick mask with a set of goggles over top. It’s a neat looking piece that’s probably teched out. But surrounding him are five others. Dressed in black and wearing a form of tactical gear.

“You guys are a bit late,” Red says. “Decided to help ourselves to what was there. Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn. But, uh, oops! What do we have here?” He lifts what’s clearly a walkie talkie, the kind security guards usually carry. And it’s then that Jeremy finally notices the crumpled and bound form of one of the security personal on the premises. That’s why it’s been so quiet. Red and his team have already cleared the place. “You guys should know what the response time is for the police right? Ten minutes? Fifteen tops? That might be cutting it a bit close if you want to dip and run.”

He motions at his goons and they make a hasty retreat to the windows. They start stringing themselves on long run lines scaling the outside of the building. They clip themselves in and wait for Red to join them before ascending the building. Jeremy leans out to watch them go. He hears Red’s laughter as he goes—and it’s so much like Alfredo it hurts to think of him like that.

He turns back to the server room where Gavin and Fiona have gathered. They won’t have enough time to make this a clean job, and Fiona is already ripping out the drives she thinks are most important.

“Okay, we need to move,” Gavin says.

“No elevator, no stairs,” Jeremy says. “We won’t have enough time.”

“Then how do we get out?” Fiona asks. “We won’t have time to call in a plan ride out of here.”

Gavin snaps his fingers. “The roof,” he says. “I saw one of those window cleaning dealies. It can drop us faster.”

“This better fucking work,” Jeremy says.

Once Fiona has the drives in her back, they make their escape to the roof. In the distance they hear a helicopter cutting its way through the air. Likely Red’s ride out of here.

Gavin points to the lift that’s been left up at the top of the building. He vaults over the railing and waits for Fiona and Jeremy to join him. “We’ll have to do it manually,” he says. “It’ll be quicker than letting the machine handle it.” He breaks into the switch box and disables the safety features which would’ve slowed their descent. Jeremy stands next to one cable break while Gavin is at the other side. Fiona steadies herself in the middle.

“Okay,” Gavin says. “We need to be in sync with this. Hold it in place ‘round the middle. Don’t let it flip all the way otherwise the ropes go and we go as well.”

Jeremy nods. “Got it.”

“On three, yeah? One, two, three!”

Jeremy flips the gear and holds on while the lift begins a controlled fall. It’s a bit unsettling because this is dangerous. This could go so wrong. It’s dizzying, falling past the windows, down to the ground below. He looks to Gavin who looks back at him. He waits for the signal to halt their descent, and at Gavin’s sharp nod, he flips the gear back in place and they come to a jolted halt.

“All right,” Gavin says. “Go, go, go!”

The police sirens are coming from all over it seems. Fiona is already telling Lindsay where she should pick them up. Not at the agreed upon location, and their get away will be tight. Lindsay comes peeling around the corner in a snappy little hatchback. A stick shift so she can manage some tight hand-break turns if need be.

“Get in!” she says.

Jeremy dives for the back seat and barely manages to close his door in time before it’s taken off by a streetlamp.

“What happened?” Lindsay asks. “I only got bits and pieces.”

“Red was there,” Fiona says. “Either he got the drop on what we were doing or someone else wants what we were after.”

“He’s working with someone,” Jeremy adds. “He looked kitted out. Was working with some serious muscle, too.” He leans in with the sharp turn Lindsay makes as she guns for the Vinewood hills. The curved roads will work well for her car and leave the police cars far behind them.

“This is really starting to get on my nerves,” Lindsay says. “Did he look any good? He was pretty hurt when I picked him up.”

“Seemed pretty chipper to me,” Fiona says. “I have like ten hard drives in my bag right now. And we don’t even know which one has the information we need.”

“If he wanted us caught, he could’ve left the guards to grab us,” Jeremy says. “But he didn’t. He’s just making things difficult.”

“Yeah, apparently,” Lindsay says. “This is cutting it pretty close.”

Once they manage to lose the cops, it’s smooth sailing to the Vinewood house. Jeremy is too hopped up on adrenaline to feel like crashing. He is really hungry though, and usually when Michael stays behind, he cooks up a feast for when they return.

He takes a few steps towards the house with the others before he realizes Gavin is standing back.

“You coming?” he asks.

Gavin looks up with his phone in his hands. “There’s some stuff I need to deal with.”

“Listen, Gav, if this is about Red—”

“I need to do this. On my own.”

“You don’t have to. Not about this.”

“I know. But I’ve got some ghosts to bury.”

“Okay.” Jeremy knows he won’t be able to convince Gavin otherwise, so for now he’ll have to let him go. “You let us know if you need a bail out, okay?”

Gavin nods. “I know. I’ll be back. Promise.” And then he’s walking towards his motorcycle and heading back onto the streets.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

I’m really thirsting for a sneak peek of that 10k fic rn like I NEED IT, I swear im not obsessed but like I’m definitely in too deep

You ask, I deliver. I swear I can’t say no to you! Here are 1500 of my favourite words, it’s all you get you fiend.

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer. 

But not because of the lights. 

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.” 

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!” 

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another you, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. It soothes your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.” 

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide. 

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that, 

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

[dimpledinnie]

hiraeth - yang jeongin

hiraeth- (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

summary: The world has always been divided. Not by race nor by species, but by season, with borders dividing the drastically diverse climates. Crossing into non provincial land would rob someone of their life, but despite knowing that, the feeling of finding an entirely different world creates a craving far too strong to ignore. But maybe it’s the person on the other side making that curiosity so insatiable.

pairings: yang jeongin x reader

before I start, I want to thank you jihyung​ for helping me write this story. I have been wanting to write a story for the longest time but I never got to do it. I’m so very excited to be working together with him to write this story. We hope that you’ll enjoy this story as much as we enjoy writing them 💞

Chapters: Intro 1 2 3 4

"Yeji, I'm not going any further." You panted, placing both arms on your knees as you lowered your body to catch your breath. Your best friend stopped in her tracks and looked back at you, her ponytail flicking away the snow that was coming down softly.

"Come on, you said you wanted to go for a hike! Hyunjin and Chan are already way ahead." Yeji pouted, both of her hands now across her chest. You slowly straightened your back and looked at her with desperate eyes, and she rolled her eyes, knowing what exactly that look was telling her.

"Look, I'll just go back down to the shop we passed before and wait there,” you suggested, referring to the small hiking shop near the start of the hiking trail. “You can go after the boys and call me when you're on your way down."

Yeji looked at you, letting out a sigh knowing that she wouldn't be able to change your mind even if she tried.

"Fine, but you're getting me a hot chocolate in return," she huffed. You nodded your head vigorously in return, even giving her both thumbs up. You were rather excited to sit down, and it was written all over your face.

Yeji gave you a soft smile before turning around to call out for her brother, Hyunjin, to wait for her, who was already halfway up the stairs stopped, shouting at her to hurry up. She quickly ran up the stairs two steps at a time, and you watched fondly as she disappeared behind the railing.

You made your way down the stairs and back to the hiking trail as you said you would, making sure to really take in the scenery that you have missed trying to keep up with your three eager hikers. Tall trees lined the hiking track, all equally covered in thick layers of white powder. You reached out for one of the branches and gave it a little tug, watching the snow glide off the bare branches. The falling snow collided with your hoodie sleeve and you let out a little squeal, feeling the coldness seeping into the fabric and onto your skin. After shaking it off, your eyes started to wander behind it, where numerous rows of similar trees stood. As you looked closer into the woods, you noticed that one of the trees had a blue ribbon tied around its trunk. There was another following the first one, then another…

"A trail?" you mumbled to yourself; you knew you weren't supposed to, but with your curiosity at its peak, suddenly you found yourself on the other side of the fence. You followed the trail, the hiking track slowly disappearing behind you as you eagerly headed deeper into the woods. As you continued on, the trees slowly started to sprout… little plants on top of them, just like the ones you had seen on television. Sure, you’d seen these… leaves, were they called? You had seen these before, in photos, videos, movies, what have you, but never did it strike you that these were real.

You reached out to hold the nearest leaf between your fingers, and immediately its texture and temperature shocked you. It felt something like a mix between paper and cotton, and as your nails pressed into it, a hole tore through the material, startling you. They were delicate and secreted some type of water when broken.

Fascinated, you slowly moved to the next tree, whose branches held more, bigger leaves, and even had a small creature slinking along the wood in a strange fashion. It was maybe an inch long, bunching its string-like body into an arch before flattening to move forward. Your hand reached forward to touch it, and it happily climbed onto your finger. You looked closer to see that it's patterned green skin had little hairs sticking out of it, but the strands were very spread out and thin, like the ones on the spaces between your knuckles, and it didn’t seem to have a mouth. At least, not one you could see.

The snow on the ground began to lessen until it was gone completely, more greenery coating the ground. Your hand allowed the little creature to find a new place to rest in the grass, as it was called, as you swept it under your palm, feeling the silky, almost sticky texture.

A new creature came your way, this one with a concerning amount of eyes.

Your startled confusion had made you completely unconscious of what is around you until you tripped on what seemed to be a rope. You fell face-first to the dirt, letting out a small groan. You pushed yourself up with both of your arms and turned your head around, looking to see what it was you had tripped over. A low hanging rope fence came to your vision, which extended both ways as far as you could see. A sign reading the words "winter border" hung loosely in the middle of the rope, seeming unkempt and unattended to in the way it almost touched the ground.

"Are you okay?" A foreign voice spoke behind you and you let out a yelp, scrambling to your feet and jumping behind the fence before whipping your head towards the source of the voice.

Just a few feet away stood a strange looking boy, dressed in a pale yellow shirt paired with some light blue jeans. His fox-like eyes grew big and he had both of his hands in front of him, his rosy lips slightly agape.

Were you hallucinating? Yeah, that was definitely it. You had absolutely no explanation for how the… the thing in front of you looked like a human, but had glowing amber eyes, hair as brown as wood, and rather skin the colour of coffee. Not to mention how so much of his skin was exposed, and he didn’t seem to mind. There were even a few marks spread out along his arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked, craning his neck to look at you from other angles. “I heard something fall and came to see if everything was okay, and…”

"It's okay, I-I’m" You reassured the boy, but it was more for yourself.

The both of you stood there in silence, the rope fence the only border separating you. He took a few step backs and moved back behind a similar looking rope fence. You looked him over once more then back at the fence, and he seemed to acknowledge your confusion, opening his mouth to speak.

"Well as you can see from the sign, this is… this is the border between winter and spring. To remind people that in a meter, they will reach the line."

"What line?"

"The line that really separates the winter from the spring." He stopped for a moment before continuing, "You're not supposed to go beyond a meter from there because the drastic temperature can and will kill you. No one’s survived going more than five meters before." He explained.

"Wait, wait,” you laughed nervously. “So you're telling me I almost died?"

"I don't know how to put it in a nice way, but yeah, pretty much. That's why I ran over as fast as I could when I heard you. I had to stop you from crossing the line before… you know."

You paused, taking a moment to yourself to process what he had relayed to you, the overwhelming amount of information poking at all sides of your head. Slowly, as you let them in one by one, things started to make sense. You looked in front of you, seeing how snow stopped falling not too far from the line he mentioned. Behind the boy the forest continued, but changed drastically. The trees no longer had their familiar poking pines but rather the soft leaves you had just observed, riddled with small creatures you had never seen before.

Your gaze dropped to beneath his white sneakers, where there was actual green grass, greener and fuller than what you had seen behind you. It was something you had only observed on television and, like the leaves, had previously no idea even existed. The sky above him was blue and bright, and you could almost make out the faint sounds of animals chirping and singing in the background.

"I-I guess I owe you one for saving my life. Thank you..." You tilted your head slightly and pouted your lips, dragging out the last word for him to insert his name into your sentence.

"Jeongin." He gave you a warm smile, dimples poking out from both his cheeks.

God, you were such a sucker for dimples.

"...Jeongin,” you repeated, trying the sound out on your tongue. “Thank you, Jeongin. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you."

"That's a pretty name." His response immediately sent blood rushing towards your cheeks and you dropped your head low, trying to cover up your red cheeks.

Seeing your reaction, his eyes widened.

“You’re turning red, you need to go back,” he spoke fearfully. “Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

"No, no, I’m...” you let out a breath. “I’m okay, I’ll just…”

You took a few steps back, now there being two meters between the two of you. It felt too far for comfort.

“I just… I didn’t know seasons were real. How do you know so much about them?”

“There are people that defend the borders to keep us safe. My dad is one of those people.” He turned to point at a tower behind him that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed. “He watches from there. People usually come to the border, start to feel ill and turn back, but he’s there watching in case someone goes too far.” He let out a sigh. “There's so many things I want to teach you… How much time do you have?"

"I have all-" you were interrupted by the sound of your phone going off. “Sorry, sorry, I have to get this quickly. Hold on.”

He nodded understandingly and you quickly pulled out your phone from your hoodie pocket, sliding the answer button, hoping to finish the call soon so you can listen to what Jeongin had to say.

"Y/N! We decided not to go all the way up so we're coming down now!” Yeji’s overexcited voice came suddenly, startling you and making you hold the receiver a bit further from your ear. “Better start ordering those hot chocolates, Chan and Hyunjin want some too! See you!" "

“Yeah sure. See you,” you responded, feeling low that you had to leave Jeongin now. Yeji and her oh, so perfect timing.

"I take it that you've got to go?" Jeongin asked, pouting slightly, and you gave him a small nod.

"Meet me here tomorrow?”

[lady-zephyr]

Rating : General

Words: 1689

I kind of forgot I had started writing this one and I found it in a random folder on my computer. I must have been pretty sad when I started writing it because I started to tear up when I was re-reading what I had so far. Anywho, you can read it under the cut on on AO3. Hope you enjoy it!.

How many days had it been since Noctis got sucked into the crystal? A week, two weeks, a month? Had it been longer than that? Prompto honestly didn’t know. He had returned to Cape Caem in a haze, following Gladio’s lead, barely keeping it together enough to help Ignis when he lost his footing. He didn’t speak much – didn’t need to when he had Ignis and Gladio at his side. They did the hard work so it was up to Prompto to just… keep up.

He didn’t even realize they had arrived until he heard Iris cry, her piercing sobs pulling him back into reality.

“Where’s Noctis?” She cried. “Why isn’t he with you? Gladdy, please tell me he’s okay.”

Gladio turned his head, the horrible truth displayed for everyone to see. Iris sank to her knees, sobs growing in intensity. “We have to go back. I’ll go with you this time… there… there has to be something we can do!”

“There’s nothing we can do. He’s... Noct is gone.” Prompto said, his voice low. He did his best to keep it together, but his shoulders were already starting to shake and he could feel the moisture welling up in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you!” Iris screamed. “We have to go back. We have to go back for Noctis!” Her hands covered her face as she cried, long soul-wracking sounds reaching from the depths of her body.

“You think we didn’t try?” Prompto yelled. His fists curled at his sides, his hazy demeanor quickly giving way to rage. “We watched Noct get sucked into the crystal while that bastard laughed.” He stood with his teeth clenched, remembering the moments leading up to Noct’s disappearance.

Golden eyes flashed through his mind, viscous ichor dripping down Ardyn’s face like tears. He saw Gladio swing at the older man, Ardyn stumbling, but continuing onward. Reacting quickly, Prompto pulled his gun from the armiger, firing a single bullet through the shimmer of blue sparks. He took a step back, thrown off by the recoil of the gun, and watched as Ardyn’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud. He experienced a moment of elation, immediately replaced with fear and confusion as Ardyn stood and walked away, the deep timbre of his laugh echoing across the hollow chamber.

Prompto turned, throwing a few last words over his quaking shoulder. “There’s nothing any of us can do now.”

He walked away from the scene, the sounds of Iris’ uncontrollable sobbing tugging at his heart. Moving quickly, he made his way up the hill to the lighthouse – the last place they were ever truly happy together. It was windier than he remembered at the top of the tower, and the seagulls had stopped calling, probably too scared to take flight in the looming darkness. He couldn’t blame them. He didn’t want to be out in the darkness either.

He stood there for a long time, peering through the darkness out across the ocean. He looked down at the shore and spied the haven they had camped at before leaving for Altissia. He remembered picking up the darkshells with Gladio, the pleasantly spicy dish Ignis had prepared that evening, and he remembered taking those stupid pictures with Noctis at dawn. He realized they were still in his camera, the pictures so silly he hadn’t bothered to show Ignis or Gladio, but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them either.

Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks at the memories. What was he doing here? He should be in the house with everyone else, consoling Iris, explaining what had happened, plotting their next move. But he only felt numb. The cold wind coming off of the ocean blew his vest open, but he barely felt the sting of the spray. He just stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly out at the expanse of water.

Maybe he was waiting for something. Across the ocean was Altissia, beyond that Tenebrae, with Gralea even farther still. And just past the city limits was Zegnatus Keep - that cold, dark tower filled with daemons and crazed magitek soldiers. The group had arrived too late; all that was left of Noctis was an outstretched hand slowly being pulled into the crystal.

And they had just left him there.

With no way to transport the magical source, the group had no choice but to evacuate the Keep and make their way back to Lucis. Prompto couldn’t accept that they had willingly left his best friend behind.

Was Noctis scared? Was he hurt? How would he ever be able to find his way back to safety without his friends? Prompto imagined Noctis wandering through Zegnatus alone, if he managed to find his way out how would he get back? Everyone in Gralea was dead and the trains had stopped running long ago.

Prompto continued to stare at the ocean. He hoped for a light, the sound of a horn, a ripple of water – anything that might signal an approaching vessel. But nothing changed. The sky remained quiet and dark.

He heard the sound of the elevator before he felt the rumble, the shuddering jolt as the doors pried themselves open followed by the sharp click of expensive shoes. “Bloody hell,” a voice muttered under the loud ring of a cane connecting with the metal guard rail.

“Prompto-“

“I’m here, Iggy. To the right.” Prompto said. He tried to keep his voice level, but his sniffling betrayed his emotions to Ignis. Rendered blind, the man had it worse than anyone in the group, and Prompto didn’t want to add to his burden. He continued to stare at the ocean not even moving an inch when he felt the soft tap of the cane against his boot. At least there was no need to put on a happy face when Ignis couldn’t see him anyway.

“Sorry for running off like that.” Prompto said. “I hope Iris isn’t too mad at me.”

“Emotions are running high all around. I doubt she will stay angry at you for long.” Ignis placed a tentative hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Although, I suppose it never hurts to apologize.”

Prompto exhaled and let his head fall, blinking back more tears as he stared down at the walkway of the lighthouse.

“Yeah, you’re right Iggy. I’ll make sure I apologize to her.”

The two men stood in silence for a time, the cold wind blowing the salty spray into their faces. Prompto tried to control himself, he didn’t want to appear weak in front of Ignis, but the more he tried to push down his emotions, the harder they fought to escape. His shoulders began to shake and his bottom lip trembled. As much as he tried he couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer.

“What happens if he doesn’t come back?” Prompto whispered. He knew there was no way Ignis could possibly know what would happen, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“We keep fighting until we breathe our last.” Ignis said with certainty. He moved his hand from Prompto’s shoulder and placed it on the cold metal of the hand rail. Turning, he stared blindly at the ocean. “There are many people who can’t fight the daemons like we can. I believe Noct would have wanted us to protect those in need.”

Prompto looked up at Ignis. He stood proud and tall, wind blowing his tawny hair back from his face. Beneath his dark glasses emerged a single tear. Prompto never would have known Ignis was crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Suddenly Prompto’s own eyes overflowed. He turned and pulled Ignis into a tight hug, tears staining the taller man’s dark shirt as he wept into his chest. Ignis wrapped his arms around Prompto’s shoulders, holding the blonde close as he sobbed.

Prompto hadn’t realized how badly he needed this. After closing himself off for so long he was starved for human touch. The simple, warm embrace from a close friend was what he had needed this whole time. While it didn’t solve the problem, he felt this was the first step to accepting what had happened in that far away, cold land. Ignis just held Prompto, only pulling away once his breathing had evened out and his tears had stopped.

Ignis placed his hands on Prompto’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length. He aimed his face toward Prompto’s, hoping the blonde was looking back at him, and began to speak.

For the first time in weeks Prompto smiled. He knew he was a mess – eyes red and puffy from crying, hair blown in every direction from the wind, but in this moment he couldn’t have been happier. Placing his hand gently at Ignis’ back he lead the blind man to the elevator, and stepping inside he pulled the lever that would take them back to ground level.

Gladio was waiting for them as they stepped out of the building. He took over for Prompto, helping Ignis find his way down the path to the house. The blond caught a few words the large man had said - Iris had cried herself to sleep, and Dustin was keeping Talcott busy while Monica got started with dinner.

Prompto held himself back waiting until the pair had entered the house before turning back to the lighthouse.

Across the ocean was Altissia, beyond that Tenebrae, with Gralea even farther still. And just past the city limits was Zegnatus Keep - that cold, dark tower where Noctis lay trapped within the crystal. But this time Prompto was smiling, the words Ignis said at the top of the lighthouse repeating inside his head. They were said with such conviction that Prompto knew Ignis was right.

”Noctis will return to us one day. Together we will defeat Ardyn and bring back the dawn.”

Prompto took a deep breath, nodded, and turned toward the house. He would always worry about his best friend, but right now there were others who needed him to be strong. Prompto decided he would continue on for them. He would keep moving forward so that he could make Noctis proud.

[inktae]

below thunder showers

↳ sci-fi au inspired by billie marten’s heavy weather. fanart commissioned to the incredibly talented @kimnomster. check out her beautiful art right away!!

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader, past yoongi | reader  ◇ genre: angst with bits of fluff ◇ word count: 29.885 ◇ warnings: none

Min Yoongi leads Earth with a stern hand and a pair of cold eyes. You lead a withered space station that’s been losing hope for years, mind tired and heart torn. Jeon Jungkook is no more than a broken soldier who’s slowly losing his humanity, but his longing for the rain keeps him tied to the ground.

Three paths converge again when the two worlds clash, and as precarious as they were, it does not stop you from falling in love for a second time.

You are just eight years old when you look at Earth’s sky for the first time.

Though you are considered an observant child, you are still too young to understand the underlying meaning of your actions. Your eyes only see an unexplored vastness, infinite and alluring, undiscerning of the coiling tendrils that precariously tie two worlds together — yours, and Min Yoongi’s.

You are blind to the tension in your father’s shoulders, and the worry in your mother’s gaze does not seem to make much sense. Earth is too overwhelming to focus on anything else, extends for miles and miles until it reaches the bleary horizon. After spending your entire life living in one huge spacecraft that floats soundlessly in space, the notion of a rounded world that extends beyond the boundaries of your sight is so foreign that it makes your knees buckle and your heart race.

You express these thoughts out loud when you finally meet Min Yoongi, an earthling boy who’s also condemned with a series of titles that serve to show others his mighty position on the human chain. Titles are not as important to you, though — and your eyes only see a boy that looks just as young as you, albeit slightly smaller.

His house alone (the Royal Palace of Earth, as your parents called it with wide eyes and a twinge of fear) holds a sense of greatness that your home in space does not possess, and your eyes can’t seem to stop in one particular spot, always shifting as the dark haired boy leads you across wide rooms and bottomless halls.

Adults have already left your side, which did not surprise you in the least — you could also see the stirring urgency in Yoongi’s parents, who barely rewarded you with a glance as their words rapidly veered towards unfamiliar matters. They all seemed eager to leave you both with each other’s company, and you can’t say you mind too much. As the leader of the station’s daughter, it is a common occurrence to be left out of strange, boring affairs, and you’re sure Yoongi perfectly understands.

“I would probably get sick if I ever went to your ugly space station,” Min Yoongi replies dryly, and the sound of his voice makes your blood freeze. There’s something in his tone you cannot identify, something lacking that makes him different from the kids you know back home. “Isn’t that old thing falling apart, anyway?”

“It’s not,” you say quickly, trying to keep the shakiness off your voice. Sure, it needs more maintenance, and the narrow, frayed walls might feel too cramped for most earthlings — but it feels warm and safe, in a way you’re not sure you could ever explain.

Yoongi smiles in a way that reminds you of sneaky street sellers, who try to trick children into unfair, expensive deals. A stale, conceited smile, one that seems to fit perfectly within his graceful features.

But your attention span is as unpredictable as ever, and by the time Yoongi opens the towering doors that lead to a balcony you’ve already forgotten his cryptic gaze and vain words, too amazed by the sights that stretch across even land. They cascade down Yoongi’s mansion and trail towards the incoming sunset, and your brain needs a few seconds to connect the images you’ve seen on countless history books to the striking view you’re currently witnessing.  

“Mountains!” you blurt out, pointing at the green tinged hills that rise in the distance. They’re almost obscured by the tall buildings and spiraling highways, but its vibrant colors seem to stir with life amidst the intimidating rise of technology.

“Is that really what impresses you the most?” Yoongi cavils, eyes wide with confusion. Approaching the tall railing, he points in a completely different direction — towards a plane that suddenly shimmies across the sky, so silent you would not have noticed it had your eyes stayed on the ground. Lean and elegant, it represents a salient proof of Earth’s superior way of life. “Now that’s impressive. I bet you don’t have those in your station, hmm?”

“We don’t have mountains either,” you retort plainly, making him lose his mocking smile.

“But those are boring,” he huffs. “And they’re in the way. You should see the buildings my dad built behind, they’re pretty cool.”

“I want to have mountains and gardens and lakes,” you continue with a wistful sigh, ignoring his words. “Is there a lake in this house? it’s so big, you probably have one.”

He laughs loudly, showing a different kind of smile that eases off the cold aura that seems to engulf him. “Lakes can’t be inside a house, silly. But we do have a pool.”

You shrug, lips pursing. “We have those, too. Hey— what’s the rain like?”

He seems to flinch at your words, boyish face contorted in disgust as he turns to face you. “Ugh, you too? the rain is wet and cold and annoying, there’s nothing nice about it. Just be glad you don’t have that up there.”

“Me too?” you wonder, but Yoongi doesn’t give you an answer. He goes back inside, and you throw the city one last yearning look before following him. Once again, you both meander through the perennial maze that is his house, ultimately reaching a closed door at the bottom of a long hallway. Another boy is standing there already, eyes wide and hair comically ruffled in a way that tells he didn’t brush it after getting out of bed.

“Ah, Jungkook,” Yoongi sounds thoroughly unimpressed, barely giving the boy a glance as he waves at him. He’s significantly taller and a bit scrawny, which makes you wonder if the boy is a few years older — but the way his shoulders hunch as he takes a step away from the door shows a docility that suddenly makes him look distinctively smaller.

“Hi,” Jungkook sends a shy wave in your direction. He smiles and it’s easy to return the gesture, though Yoongi’s sharp stare makes your own smile waver.

“She’s from Argent Station,” Yoongi cuts as he opens the door, giving you a swift glance. “Y/N, right?”

You nod, making Jungkook gape openly. You both follow Yoongi inside the room, revealing a high ceiling and walls covered in electronic devices you have never seen before, almost sparkling under the lurid sunset that pours through the windows. Yoongi turns in your direction with a proud smile, but your attention is already deviating to Jungkook, who is wearing a faintly dazed look.

“And you are?”

“Me?” Jungkook blinks, blushing softly. “Um, I’m just—”

“He’s the Lieutenant’s son,” Yoongi prods, plopping down on the bed as his hand reaches out for the remote. “And he will join our army when he grows up. Right, Jungkook?”

The sole mention of Earth’s army makes the hairs on your arms stand up. Up in Argent Station, Earth’s armed force is always surrounded by frightening stories that tell tales of death and blood, barbarians that have been turned into robots and striped off their humanity. Living monsters that are part metal, part flesh.

Going by the hushed conversations your parents have when they think you’re not listening, the army is the main reason your station has to be so wary of Earth. You can remember your father’s words as clear as day, laced with a hesitance that sounded strange in his usually confident voice. It is good that we’re scared of them. Fearing Earth is the only way we can survive.

“I… yeah,” Jungkook nods. Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice Jungkook’s defeated stance — or maybe he doesn’t care. He turns on the television and palms the spot next to him, looking straight into your eyes.

“Come, sit. Jungkook, can you go tell someone to bring us some snacks? I want Y/N to try Earth’s food.”

“Sure,” Jungkook gives you another curious look before turning around, but the abrupt words that slip past your lips makes him stop in his tracks.

“Do you like the rain, Jungkook?”

You don’t look at Yoongi, because you can already imagine the grimace twisting his lips and the fixed revulsion on his gaze. It takes Jungkook a few seconds to form a reply, but when the surprise finally dies down, his eyes soften up and his mouth curves into that meek smile that fits his equally modest expression.

“I really do.”

One peek at Yoongi makes his smile vanish, though. His eyes connect with yours one last time before sprinting out of the room, and you can’t help but start believing that maybe earthlings are not so scary — not if they have boys like Jungkook amongst them.

People with soft eyes, and people who like the rain.

/

You’re twenty five years old when you gaze at the interminable darkness of the universe for the last time.

That’s only what you believe, though. No one knows for sure what will happen once you leave the comfortable quarters of Argent Station, but there’s a growing hunch in the back of your mind that knows nothing good awaits you. You might be twenty five years old, but the days when your biggest concern was taking care of your younger brother are still fresh and recent in your mind — laughs and carefree smiles, idle conversations and the subdued sounds of swift footsteps across hallways as you chased one another.

That small boy who carried quiet eyes and a broad smile is now twenty one, and walks by your side with a composure that parted from your body hours ago. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing to focus on your slow steps as they lead you through a particularly narrow hallway. The ceiling is so low you can reach it if you rise your arms, and the dim lamps attached to the roof keep flickering weakly as they struggle to keep their light on.

Had it not been for the see-through walls at your left, the place would almost feel claustrophobic, with its tapering walls and stuffy atmosphere. Said transparent surface rewards your eyes with the bare, perplexing sights of the universe, and no amount of years living in space can make you feel ready to face its vastness, almost entirely dark except for the glinting stars and the occasional comet that dashes by. It always makes the back of your neck tickle, quiets down your thoughts as it reminds you of how small and feeble you are when compared to the dark infinity.

Hoseok stops without a warning, leaning closer to the translucent surface as he places his hands on top. Not meeting your eye, he points towards a small spaceship that just left the station’s hangar.

“See that? it’s probably filled with tons of our soldiers,” finally turning in your direction, he forces an encouraging smile to curve his lips. “I’m sure mother told them to land on the moon and wait there in case something happens to you. Isn’t that great?”

“They’re going to get killed because of me,” you blurt out, regretting the words as soon as they’re out. Hoseok’s smile vanishes as he leans away from the wall, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing while he swallows.

“You said— you’re the one who said it’d be okay in the first place. You said you trusted Yoongi, that accepting his proposition would be good for us. Did you said that just so we wouldn’t worry?”

“Sorry,” you run a hand through your already tousled hair, trying to hold back from pulling at it too hard. “It’s the nerves talking. I do trust him— you know how it used to be. But I haven’t seen him in what, eight years?” you sigh, trying to calm down your racing heart. “There’s a small chance that… that he will…”

You’re not able to continue that train of thought. It is not a small chance, Hoseok knows it and everyone knows it — and to think of the consequences behind that not-so-small possibility is too frightening, too painful to bear.

Even though you haven’t seen Min Yoongi since your teenage years, you still know him like the palm of your hand, can feel his presence within miles of distance and can identify his features with your eyes closed and the faint trace of your fingertips. You know him inside and out, have seen fear and happiness and hatred in his eyes. You have seem him smile and cry, have seen remorse in his gaze and a weakness that he doesn’t dare show outside the thick walls of his inordinate house.

You know him better than your own brother — and at the same time, you have always felt like you don’t know him at all.

“That a war will break out, and he will blow up our station,” Hoseok finishes, making your muscles tighten. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, lips pursing as you give him a disbelieving look. His eyes show a defiance you’ve come to know well— though he’s known for his quiet brightness, you’re aware that he’s only retaining a fire and a frustration that he rarely shows to the world. “Everyone knows how delicate our relations with Earth are right now. Everyone knows that if a war broke out, we’d have no chance against them. And I know you think it’s your fault, and that father was the only one who could handle Min Yoongi. None of that is true. It’s not your fault, and— even if father is gone, the only other person who could save us is you.”

A tremulous laugh escapes your mouth, eyes watering. Your chest stings with each one of Hoseok’s words and the images they conjure— your station, your home, disintegrated into minuscule particles of dust. Your father lying on his death bed as he tried to hang onto his last ragged breaths.

“I’m not a hero. Dad was.”

“I’m not saying you are,” Hoseok replies immediately. A hint of a smile makes his lips twitch — albeit small, it gives back some of the hope you’ve been slowly losing. “But I know you love this station, I know you want us to be safe, and that’s more than enough.”

It takes you a while to reply, hugging yourself as a cold shudder slithers up your spine. “I never told you what Yoongi said exactly, did I?”

He shakes his head, starting to walk again as he extends his arm in your direction. “No. Come on, let’s keep walking.”

You let his arm circle your waist, finding comfort in his familiar warmth. “I’ve read the official invitation so many times, I even memorized his words,” you smile, looking down at your feet as you take a deep breath. “I know Earth and Argent Station are not in the best terms right now, but I’m willing to give it another chance, and I hope you are too, Y/N. As you know, I took my father’s place in the leadership of Earth mere weeks ago, and the first matter I want to fix is our precarious situation. I want to put all the riots past us, I want to forget all the heated declarations of war and the hostility that’s growing amongst our citizens, both earthlings and outsiders. Let’s have a talk, face to face, you and me and no one else around. Maybe we can avoid a war, maybe we cannot. But I believe it’s worth a try.”

“Wow.”

“Wow? What is it?” you wonder, voice high pitched. You never voiced Yoongi’s letter out loud, too afraid someone else would pinpoint a darker tone amidst his elaborate words, one that slipped past your flabbergasted mind.

“He sounds nice. Too nice, I’d say,” Hoseok mutters, acquiring a pensive look. “Knowing the awful things he’s done in the past five years or so, it just comes off as ironic.”

You purse your lips, remembering the countless news that have reached the station concerning Min Yoongi and his questionable choices along the years — which now fall on his shoulders as King (as the people in your station sarcastically call him, since earthlings do not like to see him as an autocrat, but as a fair leader and an equal). It is hard for you not to see Yoongi as the young boy who made up the entirety of your childhood and your teens, and your instinct is almost unwavering as it tries to scavenge for any excuse you can find — anything that exonerates Yoongi from the fiendish attitude the people in your station adore to bring up.

“I know you love him and all,” Hoseok continues, hand reaching for your shoulder and squeezing gently. “But remember to keep your cool, for your own sake. Being the ruler of Earth must be such a heavy weight… and I’m sure it can turn a friend, even a lover, into a complete stranger.”

I don’t love him, you want to say, but you’re not sure if it’d sound entirely genuine. You might not want to hold his hand like you used to, but you do not have it in your heart to call him King with the same derision as others, nor are you able to stray away from the buried past that showed a softer, quieter side of him.

You still want to believe there’s some good in him — and if that is not loving him, then you don’t know what is.

“I know you don’t like earthlings,” you say, trying to add some lightness to your tone. “But they’re fine, I promise.”

“I swear you sound like one sometimes,” he scoffs, making you smile. “But that’s okay— you were the one who spent half her life visiting Min Yoongi, not me. I should thank our mother the next time I see her.”

You fake an offended gasp, making him chuckle. Thankful for the jaunty mood, you allow the silence to replace the conversation, steps unconsciously leading you both back home. The Argent Station is mostly composed of twisting hallways connected through elevators, with a few central areas that are no larger than Yoongi’s mansion on Earth. Your title, big enough as it is, comes with a relatively spacious home on the highest floor.

It’s almost been a year since you were proclaimed Commander, a responsibility that was thrusted into your arms minutes after your father’s death. The news were not so terrible for the people — though you were going through a time of sorrow, for them it mostly meant a young leader finally replacing someone whose health got in the way of the job, someone who could not bear the hefty title of Commander anymore. Your father ruled long and well, he was good and gentle and sometimes too passive, but everyone knew his time was done months before passing away. With your ‘coronation’ came a celebration that lasted for days, one your shattered heart never allowed you to attend.

“You sure are insolent, I should have you ejected into space,” you say as you both reach the elevator, using the most imperious tone you can muster as you try to keep a straight face. “And find myself another second in hand.”

He only snorts, stepping inside the narrow cubicle as you follow him through. “As if you could survive without me,” he smiles, pressing the button for the highest floor as the doors close.

You smile back, not saying anything — he’s absolutely right, after all. He may be four years younger than you, but his wisdom kept your feet on the ground and his shoulder kept your mind sane as he allowed you to cry on it countless times. He did not really understand when you came home sobbing after your last visit to Earth, only seventeen and heart shredded to pieces, but his thirteen year old self would bring you a piece of your favorite snack everyday, and even gifted you a video-game he went through so much trouble ordering from Earth.

He never knew those small gestures kept you from breaking apart even further.

You’re too engrossed in your thoughts to realize you’re quickly approaching your destination. The doors opening and the sudden amount of voices mingling with each other snap you out of your reverie, making you blink in surprise as you step out of the elevator. The usual number of guards are patrolling in front of your door, always taciturn as they stay as unnervingly quiet as space itself — but their presence is forced into the shadows by familiar figures fluttering around in hurried steps, pairs of frantic eyes turning in your direction as the conversation stalls bluntly.

“There you are! where were you?” Seokjin’s voice stands out above the rest, shrill and contained as he scuttles in your direction. His eyes are comically wide, showing an urgency that’s always stirring behind his worried gaze. “Did you forget we have to release a statement to calm everyone down, then send Min Yoongi one last confirmation, then get you and everyone ready? Did you even pack already?”

“Take a breath,” you simply say, making him inhale and exhale through his mouth. “Give me five minutes to say goodbye to Hoseok, okay? then we can get started. Tell everyone to calm down— and you calm down, too.”

He nods, still breathing deeply as he busies himself with the tablet in his hands. “Five minutes.”

Turning to Hoseok, you’re not surprised to see the held back laughter in his face, eyes overflowing with mirth as he struggles to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m still not sure if it was a good idea to make him your personal secretary. He’s so… stressed all the time.”

“He’s always stressing, I don’t think he knows how to survive any other way,” you snicker, making him grin.

“Five minutes, then?” he wonders, smile softening as he puts his hands inside the pockets of his light jacket. You do not comment about his eyes turning slightly glossy, knowing that bringing it up will only make your own sting with tears. “I’ve spent these last few days thinking of giving you the best advice— something that can make this trip somewhat bearable for you, something that can ease your nerves, but��� I realized that you know it all already. The knowledge you have on Min Yoongi is what will keep you— and all of us, alive,” he swallows, voice lowering as he stares straight into your eyes. “And I know you will use it in the best way you can. Earth is… so scary, they can rip us apart with just a single touch— and if it were up to me, I wouldn’t let you go out there,” he smiles again, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “But… this had to be done, right? and you know it, too. So I trust you will keep yourself alive. I force you to. Or I’ll be obliged to stop calling myself your brother.”

You nod, because you cannot trust your vocal chords right now. He drags you into a brisk hug that makes you smile, eyes shutting tightly as you let your forehead rest on his forehead for five seconds. During those five seconds you’re no more than a young girl who doesn’t truly understand your parents’ affairs, someone yet to be involved in this messy game of politics and incoming wars. You’re just another outsider, as the earthlings refer to your kind; and for the briefest moment you wish that was the case — that you stood outside all of this, that you were just another citizen who witnessed everything through a television screen.

It is pointless to dwell on those desires, though. The reality is in Hoseok’s distressed gaze and Seokjin’s obstinate words that still ring in your ears, it lies in a composed Min Yoongi that’s probably resting peacefully at home, unaware of the looming strain that weaves itself across the hallways of Argent Station. The reality is that you got your heart broken years ago, but you cannot bring yourself to see him as the villain of the story — because to be a part of this game, you have to acknowledge all the shades of grey found between black and white.

“I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone,” he whispers, and those five seconds finally come to an end.  

Breaking apart from your brother, you cannot muster more than a weak nod and a shaky smile. It is a goodbye that feels too abrupt, too undeserving — because someone like him should be rewarded with more than just silence. You can only hope he understands that holding yourself together is taking all of your energy right now, and that words are unable to form in your mind in a way that would make sense.

You lead Seokjin inside your home in a dazed state, thoughts forging the same question over and over. It is a question that doesn’t have an answer yet, one that will come with time — but only if you play your cards right.

Will I ever see him again?

/

You’re fifteen years old, and you can boldly state Min Yoongi’s house feels just as warm and safe as your own.

Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration — it is certainly not as cozy, and it lacks the familiar homey scent that clings to the walls of your bedroom back home, of vanilla candles and a faint  whiff of the sea that comes from your mother’s favorite incense. But the comfort you feel between the spacious walls is scarily similar, even if you’re aware of the not-so-welcoming atmosphere on the outside.

Being Min Yoongi’s close friend does not change the fact that you’re still an outsider, which reflects on the sharp hesitance amongst the citizens that catch your eye when you and Yoongi sneak out at night, waltzing around the city like it solely belongs to you and him (and it does, in a way). It does not bother you in the least, though. The number of earthlings who care for you might be infinitesimal, but as long as Min Yoongi is one of them, it is more than you could ever ask for.

Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook, that is. The latter is obviously not as close, practically consumed by his intensive training for Earth’s armed force, but you do remember him with a rush of nostalgia — him and the short years of your childhood when it was the three of you together, when your titles and futures were not even a faraway concern.

Though you visit Earth weekly, you barely get to see Jungkook once a month, sometimes even less. The times you do, there is only tiredness in his eyes and a worn out smile that he forces in your direction, which you return with worry and silence. But Yoongi’s presence easily hogs your attention, with a friendship that grows at an alarmingly fast pace as you discover more and more layers behind his naturally cold eyes — someone that’s weak and strong, with flaws and virtues that are equally uncontrollable; someone who has a hard time opening up to others but still gave you a chance, an outsider who’s no more than an insect in judgmental eyes.

Said boy wakes you up at four in the morning after a particularly draining Saturday. You usually decide to stay the entire weekend, but this time it was not by personal choice — a seemingly crucial dinner ball required the presence of you and your family, not including your eleven year old brother, who seemed to avoid Earth as earnestly as you desired to visit. The dinner snatched away most of your energy, invested in artificial smiles and insubstantial conversations that kept your mind struggling as it sought for the right words.

You certainly do not need Yoongi’s fist knocking on the spare bedroom’s door after such a tiring evening, taking you out of the deep slumber your body had succumbed to. You know the sound well enough to know it’s him, and it’s with a tired huff and clumsy steps that you get up and open the door, narrowing your puffy eyes at a silently amused Yoongi.

“Really? What a weakling,” he smirks, leaning his shoulder against the frame. “It’s still too early to sleep. Change your clothes, we’re going out.”

“You’re too bossy,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “You’ll make a great dictator one day.”

He just waves his hand around, dismissing your words. “Yeah, right. There’s something cool I need to show you.”

“You always say that, but then it’s the same place over and over,” not that you mind, but he doesn’t need to know that. Yoongi’s smirk never wavers, twisting his lips charmingly as his eyes glimmer through the leaden ambience. It never fails to make your legs quiver and your heart jump, filling you with a searing warmth you never experienced before.

“I’m being serious this time. Can we go? please,” he adds, eyes avoiding yours. The word please always feels strangely heavy when it comes from his rosy lips — as if he only learned how to pronounce it recently, tongue still trying to find comfort around the foreign syllable. It gives the word an entirely new meaning, or at least the meaning it should have.

Hearing Min Yoongi using such a word can only mean that he genuinely wants you to go this time — that maybe there’s something meaningful tonight, something more than just a reckless escapade.

“Okay,” you nod, feeling suddenly nervous.

“I’ll wait here,” he takes a step back, still gazing at you through his eyelashes. “Do you promise me you won’t go back to sleep?”

“I’ll try not to,” you smile, trying to push down the growing giddiness that’s warming up your cheeks.  You close the door, taking a deep breath before scurrying towards the closet. There’s a different kind of feeling tonight, one that turns your skin hot and makes your stomach flutter pleasantly as you rush into a decent change of clothes.

It is no secret that your friendship with Yoongi is developing at a fleeting pace. His parents can see it, your own parents can see it, but it only leaves an acidic taste in your mouth to see their pleased smiles and hopeful gazes — eager to find a reason to finally unite the two worlds, separated by an unyielding wall created by the citizens themselves. No one truly knows when or how the extreme hatred started, sustained by hostile rumors and meaningless fights between the two ‘races’. Even if you are all only human, it seems to be a knowledge that vanished decades ago.

You perfectly know what those shimmering, expectant gazes mean. An earthling and an outsider — and both royals, at that —, falling in love for all of the universe to see, would probably make everyone reconsider their blind aversion, or at least think twice about it. But it is a thought you do not like to dwell on, reminding you that maybe it was never you who wanted to visit Yoongi every week, that maybe it was all part of your parents’ plan, one that’s slowly coming alive.

You fervently want to believe your feelings are real, and only yours. It is an unspoken rule between you and Yoongi to ban politics from your endless conversations, giving you a sense of reality and freedom that you rarely get from the real world.

Even so, no even you can run away from the invisible wall that stands high in the distance — separating your world from his, looming and rising when you’re not looking.

You like you believe you can, though.

It’s with an excited smile that you get out of your room five minutes later, closing the door behind you with extreme care so as not to make any noises. Yoongi’s resting against the wall of the hallway, returning your smile through the darkness as you approach him.

“Let’s do this,” you mutter, almost bouncing on the heels of your feet as Yoongi nods quietly. His hand on your back feels like the ghost of a touch, measured and cautious as he leads you through the magnanimous house.

Unsurprisingly, he takes you to the ample garage, accessible through a door on the back of the obscured main hall and just as excessive as the rest of the Min’s residence. He barely throws a glance at the never-ending rows of lavish cars, only stopping in front of an old-looking motorcycle. Its red color is scratched and fading, years of use visibly clinging to the metal. It is your first time seeing one and it makes your lips part in surprise, turning to Yoongi’s pleased expression as he pats the seat lightly.

“What do you think? It took me a while to find it, since they’re practically extinguished — but after weeks of searching I finally found a nice gentleman who let me have it at a reasonable price.”

You shut your mouth, giving him a suspicious look. “Reasonable?”

He tilts his head, sighing. “Okay, it was a bit expensive. But so worth it, don’t you think?”

“Yoongi…” you can feel your cheeks heating up again, feeling suddenly coy as you avert your eyes. “A while back I told you about this old film I loved, and how the protagonist owned a motorbike, very similar to this one—”

“Are you asking if I bought it because of you?”

“I— I mean… it’s just weirdly coincidental—”

“Because I did,” he states, tone clear as he looks into your eyes. The heat sizzling under your skin never fades, still intermittent as it spreads across your body. A small smile is tugging at his lips, soft-looking and slightly sleepy. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

You nod, unable to find the words. Yoongi is not one to be so… thoughtful of others, which only makes the gesture even more meaningful. You try to shove down the grin that threatens to stretch your lips, gesturing at the motorcycle dubiously.

“And… do you know how to ride this?”

“Kind of. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Kind of,” you repeat, snorting out a laugh as he grabs the pair of helmets placed next to it on the ground. “You’re expecting me to trust you won’t kill us both.”

He hands you the helmet, eyes finding yours again — he looks completely at ease, gaze so clear your muscles start to unwind involuntarily.

“It’ll be fine, I promise. If anything, we’ll get a few scratches,” you grab the helmet, giving him a look full of disbelief. He only beams with amusement, putting on his own. “Safety first.”

“You think you can get away with anything, don’t you?” you mutter lightly, following his movements as he sits on the bike. You instinctively press your body against his back, trying not to hold onto him too tight even though the nerves are starting to twist your stomach. “That will backfire one day, Min Yoongi.”

He turns at that, enough for you to look at his profile and see the muted smile on his lips. So composed and undisturbed, yet it flares with something else, wicked and playful.

“We’ll see about that.”

He starts the engine then, roaring to life within the hollow walls of the garage. In a matter of seconds you’re moving, making your stomach tighten as a vague thought in the back of your mind makes you wonder if this was not a good idea, after all. But as soon as Yoongi leaves the house and the winds of the night brush against your skin your mind all but halts, heart thumping wildly with the feeling of freedom, a sudden flash of bliss pounding through your body like the sudden strike of lightning.

Right in that moment, the future doesn’t exist, and a voiceless inkling tells you Yoongi may feel the same.

/

You snap back into the present when Seokjin waves a hand in front of your face.

You blink, looking around as the bile threatens to crawl up your throat. You’re already inside the spaceship that will take you to Earth, significantly bigger than those used by lower ranks, but still extremely meager when compared to Earth’s ships. There is only space for five people — and one of those include Kim Seokjin, fortunately. He’s seated right next to you, holding his trusty tablet in one hand and tugging at the ungiving seatbelt with the other.

“Still not used to space flights, huh?” his voice almost drowns under the sizzling noises of the engines, huffing and stirring throughout the narrow space. You are no pilot, but anybody with a pair of working ears could tell they’re struggling to stay alive. You wish the ground didn’t vibrate so wildly against the soles of your shoes, making it impossible to forget your imminent departure from Argent Station.

“They’re okay,” you give Seokjin a nervous smile. Contrary to your secretary’s belief, it is not the actual flight what makes your stomach twist — it’s the machinery that looks like it’s going to fall apart in any second. You can only wistfully imagine the smooth glide of one of Min Yoongi’s ships, which you only ever gazed at from a significant distance. You’re completely sure the ground doesn’t tremble, just as smooth and quiet as its modern engines and turbines.

He grabs a bottle of water from the bag that lays at his feet, passing it to you and patting your knee as you take a long gulp from it.

“I wish I could go with you all the way to Min Yoongi’s cottage,” he sighs. You look at him when you finish drinking, swallowing thickly as you give it back. He’s wearing a vigilant expression, one that reminds you of his dry gazes during the ever-so-tense meetings with Earth’s ambassador. “All these… ridiculous rules he gave us just show how wary he is of us. I thought this was supposed to be a relaxed, informal meeting between you two. But it just seems like he’s preparing for war.”

“Don’t say that,” you snap briskly, not intending for the sour tone to escape your mouth. You inhale deeply, giving him an apologetic look. “Sorry. I wish this was no more than an informal meet-up, Seokjin— but when an entire planet and a spacecraft half the size of the moon are watching closely, there can’t be anything relaxed about it.”

“But he’s clearly stepping all over us,” Seokjin rises his voice slightly, muscles tensing up under his black shirt. A few curious looks from the captain and his small crew of three are enough for him to quiet down again, trying to relax on his seat as he purses his lips. “Not allowing you to be in the company of any outsider the moment you step on Earth’s ground? please.”

You clear your throat, feeling your heart skip under your ribcage at his words. It is something you have tried not to give much thought — the thought of being the only outsider with her feet on Earth, completely alone in an entire planet, sounds too terrifying to dwell on.

“Well… in the rules it said he’d send someone trustworthy to show me the way.”

Seokjin seems to be holding back his words. You can tell, with the way his eyes gloss over as he avoids to look into your own.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you off, and I… I know this all might seem to stressful for you already. But— are you aware that the place we’re landing is also dictated by him? that it’s around six days away from Min Yoongi’s secret home in the woods just because he didn’t want to give us the exact location?” he laughs, then — a sound full of irony and poison, one you’ve grown accustomed to when hearing about Min Yoongi from an outsider’s mouth. “As if we could blow it up, or something like that. Us. The ones living in a rotting machine.”

“Seokjin!”

He’s breathing faster now, exhales loud as he tries to control himself. Though he’s always under pressure, he never let himself go like this — which makes your own anger burst through a glare, one you hope is strong enough to make him squirm. You bite the inside of your cheek for a few seconds, trying to keep your composure under the crew’s curious stares.

“Do not,” you say through gritted teeth, swallowing as tears of rage blur your sight. “Call our home a rotting machine again.”

The ship chooses that moment to start moving, and you’re almost thankful for the sudden jolt and the quivering rumble that makes you hold onto the seat, completely forgetting about Seokjin as the crew members start spewing commands to each other.

The night before you wished for a smooth trip, adorned with Seokjin’s bad jokes and upholstered in nostalgia — the good kind, the kind that will gift you memories to keep once you step onto Earth’s ground. You never imagined a tense atmosphere with a fidgety Seokjin by your side, ears ringing with the crew’s loud voices and the creaking of the ship, but you should know better than to expect for things to turn out the way you think they will.

Soon enough you’re gazing through the blurry window by your side, watching as the station grows smaller with painful speed. It looks microscopic from far in space, and it makes you wonder if that’s how Earth sees you all — like a nest of ants they can step on anytime. You allow yourself to stare for a few more seconds before gazing back inside the ship, noticing Seokjin’s already looking at you with guilty eyes and pursed lips.

“It’s fine,” you say before he opens his mouth, and the smile that lifts your lips is surprisingly easy. “Forget about it.”

“Sometimes I forget you’ve taken your father’s place,” he admits, leaning back against the chair as a deep sigh leaves his lips. “That you’re not that troublemaker that ran around and got lost with her brother anymore. Sorry… for forgetting.”

“A troublemaker?” you ask, genuinely stunned. It makes Seokjin laugh, and you huff loudly. “I never caused any trouble. Besides, aren’t you just 5 years older than me? you speak like an old man.”

“If I didn’t speak like an old man, I wouldn’t be your secretary in the first place.”

“Hmm, true,” the smile you share erases the remnants of any restlessness, though your heart is still thumping wildly under your chest. You doubt that will stop anytime soon. “Seokjin… tell me something.”

He gives you a blank look. “Like what?”

You shrug, looking away and focusing on your feet, firmly placed on the rumbling floor. “I don’t know, anything. That girl you told me about — how did it go? are you together now?”

It takes him a few seconds to pick up on it — on the nerves shimmering around the edges of your gaze and your clammy hands, on the slight desperation and urge to talk about life in the station. Something familiar amidst the unknown.

He starts rambling once he gets it, and a part of you regrets starting the conversation, because time slips away with even more ease as Seokjin’s distraction turns the eighty long minutes of space travel into mere seconds. The moment Earth is close enough to gaze at the vast swathes of woodland your heart picks up even faster, fear and forgotten memories clogging your mind. Seokjin grabs your hand, and you can barely muster a faint whimper.

Your hands stay clasped as the ship lowers itself in the middle of a boundless forest, landing on a particularly flat meadow that forms an almost perfect circle amidst the thick trees. The roaring engines slowly fall into silence, and you hold your breath unconsciously as the doors that lead outside open automatically.

The silence that suddenly overcomes the ship is almost deafening. The crew barely moves and it doesn’t take you long to smell their fear, thickening the air as the unfamiliar scent of nature filters inside. This is, most probably, their first time on Earth, and you can’t blame them for the sharp reluctance shining in their wide gazes.

Surprisingly, Seokjin is the least overcome by panic. He unbuckles his belt and helps you do the same, directs a few polite words to the pilot of the ship and asks for the crew to wait until he comes back. It is with trembling legs that you retrieve your suitcase, and just like that you walk outside — onto the world that once was your second home.

For a second, your worries fly to the back of your mind. It is too fascinating to stare at a stunned Seokjin, completely silent as he looks at the pale blue sky for the first time in his life. He flinches when he tries to look into the sun, but continues to gaze at the scant clouds and the mostly clear sky. The silence has not been broken yet, barely disturbed by the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. Tall trees surround the clearing in perfect uniformity, circling the flat ground covered in vivid green and the occasional yellow flowers.

The real reason why you’re here is still stinging in the back of your mind, but it’s definitely manageable now. Seokjin looks down a minute later, closing his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again.

“Bright,” he finally says as he blinks repeatedly, making you smile. “It’s too bright. No wonder earthlings are always wearing those dark glasses — I thought it was just some weird fashion staple.”

“They’re called sunglasses,” you explain vaguely, looking around again. “Don’t you notice something… weird?”

“Yeah,” he nods, following your gaze. “We’re the only ones here. Where’s the guard that’s supposed to take you to the King?”

You throw him a wary look, which he immediately catches.

“Be careful, you’re not in Argent Station right now,” you remind him, even though he knows already.

“Am I supposed to call him Yoongi now?” Seokjin whispers, crossing his arms as his lips twist in disgust.

“That’s even worse,” you reply just as quietly. “People call him Our Leader. I think.”

“That’s not a synonym for tyrant,” Seokjin shuts his mouth the moment a faint noise starts approaching the meadow, as smooth as a sudden breeze but definitely not part of nature. Only a few seconds pass until a lean vehicle appears amongst the trees, its black surface reflecting the sun as it silently glides above the ground, never touching it as it floats effortlessly towards the centre.

You almost take a step closer to the ship, but you force yourself to stand your ground. The vehicle stops relatively close to the ship, only a few meters away from you and Seokjin — none of you move, too petrified to even breathe. One of the doors slides up and the driver of the vehicle finally steps out, revealing a tall man wearing a dark grey uniform that covers his lean body from head to toe, except for the metallic right arm that glints under the sunlight. The jacket he’s wearing reaches up to his throat, adorned with a blue emblem that proudly shines on the left side of his chest — the word RANGER is clear enough, even from your distance, and the shivers crawling up your spine only grow more intense when you finally reach his face and see a bionic eye staring back at you, unnaturally blue as it scans you up and down.

But seeing an earthling soldier up close becomes the least of your worries when your brain finally catches up, and the faintly familiar features of the half human, half android finally become clear in your mind.

His right eye — his human eye — is too distinctive to forget, and even if he looks completely different from his teenage years, there is no doubt in your mind that the soldier staring back at you was once someone you considered a friend. You feel even weaker than before, bile climbing up your throat as you quietly take a step forward.

“Jungkook?”

Your voice is shaky, thin with a sliver of terror you’ve been trying to hide until now. You didn’t feel cold before, but now the breeze seems sharper and you have to hold back from hugging yourself to stop the teetering of your teeth.

Jungkook doesn’t flinch, nor his eyes turn wide like they did whenever he spotted you after weeks of not seeing each other. He turns towards Seokjin instead, who has been watching the silent exchange with his lips parted.

“You can go now, I’ll take it from here,” Jungkook orders, voice colder and stronger, and your heart throbs painfully when you realize it reminds you of Yoongi.

Seokjin seems to hesitate for a few seconds, not sure if he should leave so soon. You circle his wrist and squeeze gently, making him tear his gaze away from Jungkook to look into your eyes.

“It’s fine, go,” you nod towards the ship. “The crew probably wants to leave, too.”

“You know him?” he asks instead, blatantly pointing at a quiet Jungkook.

“It’s fine,” you repeat, swallowing. “I… confused him with someone. You should go.”

Seokjin knows you well enough to know when you’re lying, but he chooses not to say anything about it. He squeezes your hand briefly before pulling away, lips pursed as if to hold back the words he wants to say. You cross your arms so he doesn’t see your hands shaking, nodding in his direction as he slowly walks back to the ship.

It happens too fast. The last string that connected you to your home breaks as Seokjin enters the ship, its doors closing as the engines roar back to life. The crew doesn’t take its time — they leave in a matter of seconds, and you can’t blame them. If you were in their position, you would flee just as fast.

All you have left now is the suitcase that lies by your side. Right now, you are no Commander, nor Hoseok’s sister nor the daughter of a late, well respected leader. Your identity vanishes just as fast as the ship, floating up the clouds and disappearing in the immensity of space.

It is hard to hold yourself together as you turn back to Jungkook, almost jumping in surprise when you notice his sudden proximity. He doesn’t look into your eyes as he grabs your suitcase, carrying it back to accommodate it inside the trunk.

The silence is too asphyxiating, and your movements are stiff and robotic as you allow yourself inside the modern vehicle, barely stirring under your feet as it continues to levitate above the ground. You turn to him the moment he takes the driver’s seat, heart almost crawling up your throat when he closes the door.

“What’s going on, Jungkook?”

He doesn’t even throw you a glance. Turning on the ignition, his head shifts slightly, as if to acknowledge your words.

“I’m taking you to our Leader Min Yoongi. It will take us six days in total to reach our destination. Before you ask why it’s so far away, he did not want any outsider’s ships near his cottage. The location is classified information, even for earthlings,” he answers plainly, voice just as monotone as before. It makes your blood boil under your skin, lungs constricting at the ever so passive look on his face.

“That’s not—” you take a deep breath, trying to keep your tone under control. “What I mean is— why you?”

Finally, he turns at that. You can feel the stare of his bionic eye on your skin, burning and uncomfortable, but the sight of his human eye — still a warm, intimate brown, even if it doesn’t hold the same friendliness of the past — keeps you from bolting out of the cramped space.

“Because I asked for it,” he replies after a long stare, expression so serious it makes you wonder if part of his brain — or his heart — was replaced as well. It would not be too surprising. Earth’s army has no space for emotions, even if that means taking the humanity away from its trained soldiers.

That theory contradicts his words, though.

“You asked for it,” you repeat, words distant as you try to find any sense in them. “He told you to say that, didn’t he? It makes sense now,” you swallow as the truth hits you, eyes welling up with tears as you divert your gaze. “He wants to play mind games with me. He wants me to see what happened to you.”

“Not everything is about you,” Jungkook’s quiet response numbs your muscles even more, if possible. He leaves it at that and you’re immensely grateful for the growing silence, even if it only made your skin prickle before. Cheeks burning and mind completely halted, you gaze out of the window as he drives away from the clearing, entering the thick forest where the trees sporadically block the sunlight.

The twisting road is narrow, dark and confusing, but Jungkook seems to know his way around. The silence between you feels natural but not comfortable, like a million words unsaid are looming over your heads but have no way out. And even though you feel like crawling out of your skin, it is inevitable to let your eyes close, head turned towards the window as you continue to feel the patches of sunlight on your face.

You always loved the sun on Earth, but this time it’s not enough to warm your skin.

/

You’re sixteen years old, and you can barely believe you’ll hit seventeen in four months.

Being seventeen only means one more year until hitting eighteen. And the eighteens are even scarier, if possible.

Yoongi only jokes about it, of course — he’ll be given more responsibility within Earth’s regime, but he does not seem to think of it too seriously. Meanwhile, you can only shake in distress and fear whenever no one’s looking, because one year and four months is still too soon to turn into an adult. It is nowhere near the time you need to prepare for tasks that are too big for your shoulders.

You’ve heard your parents, and it is easy to pick up on the rumors — if everything goes well, you’ll become the station’s ambassador on Earth. Which also means Earth will be your first home, not your second.

You love Earth and you love Min Yoongi, but you’re not so sure if you can love the future that’s been laid out for you. Then again, what could you expect? As the daughter of the Commander, you fate has been running in your blood for decades.

Your holidays spent in Min Yoongi’s house are coming to an end, and this particular night on Earth is colder than usual, announcing the arrival of a new season as the dryness of the summer rolls into the red-yellow trees and biting winds of autumn. As someone who has only experienced the sharp coldness of the station’s steel walls, you’ve learned to love every shift of Earth’s weather, but the transition is always a little bit harder to endure — just like the weather struggles to figure out where to stand, you also feel a little bit more lost than usual, and the ground is no more firm under your feet.

Sleep is no longer an option when 2 AM hits and your eyes are still wide open. You think about seeking for Yoongi, but the restrictions his family imposed on you both halts that train of thought — you might be dating for six months now, but that does not mean you can take any liberties. Being seen on his way to his room would only lead to a very embarrassing conversation, cheeks flaring in mortification as you discard the idea.

You opt for the backyard, trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you tiptoe across the large hallways of the house. It has always been awfully cold inside, but tonight the air feels unusually stilted and the walls seem to stretch even higher, sending shivers down your back as your legs pick up the pace.

You have to contain a large exhale when you reach the main living room, spacious and showered with plentiful amounts of ornaments, only serving for the purpose of intimidating guests with their lavish glint. Glass sliding doors on the other side of the room lead to a sparkling swimming pool and abundant patches of green land, and another shiver crawls up your back as you’re reminded of the countless summer parties you had to attend mere weeks ago — full of intimidating figures and politicians, whose smiles hid darker intentions behind the simple gestures.

You start walking towards the nearest couch, but you immediately stop in your tracks when you see a dark shadow moving from the corner of your eye. The scream building up your throat vanishes when your eyes connect with Jungkook’s, who looks just as startled from his spot on a levitating sofa, which looks just as ostentatious as the furniture inside.

“You scared me,” you laugh softly, heart still beating furiously as you approach him. He looks like he just woke up, eyes slightly puffy and the usual tired lines dragging down his expression. He also seems to be wearing his training uniform, clearly worn and almost wrinkled beyond repair.

You sit on the other end of the couch, making sure to leave some space as you direct him a polite smile. He returns it nervously, eyes flickering around as he lifts his legs to sit crosslegged on the couch. Only the moon serves as lighting, but its blueish glow is more than enough to get a clear enough view of him.

“It’s been a while,” you say, awkwardly fiddling with your hands on your lap. “What are you doing here?”

“Yoongi’s house is closer to the military school than mine is. His family lets me crash here sometimes, especially after a rough day,” he shrugs, giving you another tentative smile. “We had a twelve hour training session today. I couldn’t have gotten to my house, even if I wanted to.”

“That’s… yeah, you look rough,” he arches an eyebrow at that, making your cheeks flood with heat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, I know,” he smiles again, making you sigh in relief. “This training is no joke. I knew it before joining, but…”

“I can only imagine. You’re very brave.”

A long exhale makes its way past his mouth. He looks up at the sky, allowing you to gaze at his profile openly. His mouth forms a tight line and you’re not sure if you should interrupt his train of thought, which doesn’t seem to be going down a happy path. But then he speaks up, and the way his voice lowers its tone makes you sharpen your hearing.

“Do you wonder sometimes… if you’re doing what you really want, or what you’re meant to do?” he finally turns in your direction, and his brown eyes look as expressive as you remember them when you were younger, filled with the same wonder you shared with him — of being surrounded by a brand new world and its endless possibilities. It always intrigued you, how Jungkook seemed to be bursting with that same flaring curiosity, even if he was an earthling himself.

No other human on Earth looked the way he did, but that spark seemed to die down with the years, replaced with acute coldness and the unending tiredness that came from his intensive training.

His words make your heart jump, and the hidden thoughts you’ve had throughout the day spring to the top of your mind.

“Sometimes, yeah,” you bite your lip, suddenly nervous as your heart continues to thump strongly. “I love Yoongi, but… when I really think about it, it all seems so scary,” you swallow, trying to refrain the scrambling words that beg to be let out. “When I was younger I wanted nothing more than to hang out with him, with both of you, but it took me this long to realize there’s so much more to it. That there are… so many people and even an entire planet involved, and— it’s all too big for me. Too much.”

You turn towards the sliding doors, eyes wide as you make sure no one else heard your words. You almost jump when you feel a hand on your arm, brushing ever so gently before pulling away.

“Sorry,” Jungkook’s blushing hard when you look into his face, hand still hanging in the air as he slowly retrieves it. “I just— it’s okay. You can open up to me, I don’t mind.”

Your own blush is inevitable, slowly rising up your neck and cheeks. “What about you?”

“Me?” he leans back, shoulders hunching as he tries to become one with the backrest. “It’s stupid, honestly— but I always wanted to join the Exploration Team.”

“Oh! they’re quite famous in the station,” you exclaim as you recall the outsiders’ words, full of fascination and a deep reverence. According to them, the Exploration Team is the only redeeming quality Earth has. “Quite brave of them to just… leave Earth to explore other planets. Must be very scary, too.”

“Not scary at all,” Jungkook smiles, eyes glinting with admiration. It’s a strange look on him, but it fills his expression with a warmth that’s usually never there. “Don’t you ever think about what’s out there? there has to be more to this than Earth and Argent Station and all this fighting going on… if you really think about it, it’s all so pointless. We should be looking up, not threatening to fire at each other.”

You can’t help but fall silent. The gears in your brain are so loud you wonder if Jungkook can hear them, too — turning and spinning as your brain works out his words, mincing and unmasking their meaning. You never heard someone speak that way before, and the way your eyes seem to shift and start seeing Jungkook in a different light is almost too scary to bear. It is not a bad kind of fear, though — but mostly the thrill of hearing a perspective you were never presented with, not even back home, where outsiders are surrounded by the vastness of space at all times. It suddenly hits you how you of all should be looking at the stars, having lived all your life amongst them. Instead, you’ve always chosen to look down, towards the planet that has never really welcomed you with open arms.

Jungkook’s cheeks turning red again make you realize you’ve been staring for way too long. You quickly avert your eyes, an awkward chuckle escaping your mouth.

“Sorry, I just never heard anyone speak like that before.”

“It’s stupid, I know,” he huffs, lifting his knees and resting his chin on top. “If I’m the only one thinking like this, then it doesn’t really matter.”

“No, don’t say that,” you slide closer to him, ignoring the way your heart stutters at the proximity. “I’m not joking when I say that you probably just blew my mind.”

He laughs openly at that. You can’t help but stare again, being the first time you actually hear him laugh in years — no, come to think of it, his laughs were never genuine, not even when you were barely ten years old. He always made sure to please Yoongi, even if that meant chuckling at unfunny jokes.

His laughter vanishes when he finds you staring again, but he doesn’t blush this time. He stares back instead, and if you look hard enough you can almost see that hopeful child amidst the drained face that shouldn’t belong to a teen. He grew up too fast, you realize, because that way of speaking can only belong to someone who has experienced rock bottom. A sudden admiration blossoms deep within your chest, a sweeping feeling that’s strangely new, even if you always believed you admired Yoongi.

And when the flutter in your stomach and the burning under your skin become too strong to ignore, you finally become aware of his fingers brushing yours on top of the couch and the way you’re unconsciously leaning closer and closer, completely blinded by Jungkook’s equally dazed gaze. The sudden commotion is so loud in your head you can’t help but jump back in surprise, knees weak as you stand up.

I love Yoongi.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak out, taking a step back. He shakes his head, looking just as mortified.

“I’m the one that’s sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

I love Yoongi.

“I should go back. Goodnight, Jungkook,” you don’t look into his eyes again, choosing to enter the house in hasty steps. The dry coldness of the inside is almost welcoming, soothing your heated skin and calming down your earnest heartbeats.

I love Yoongi.

Maybe, if you repeat it enough, you’ll forget the glow in Jungkook’s eyes.

/

You wake up in the present with a layer of sweat coating your skin, almost shivering at the memory your brain decided to bring back.

It takes you a while to become aware of your surroundings, feeling lost for a few seconds as you look around in confusion. A few seconds of adjusting to the darkness finally allow you to delineate the shapes and objects of the narrow room, heart constricting when you finally realize you’re not in Argent Station, but in a narrow caravan with enough space for two small beds, one placed next to the other with barely one meter of distance in-between. You could barely hold your surprise when Jungkook’ ship transformed into a mobile home with the simple click of a button, showing you, once again, how advanced Earth’s technology is compared to your waning station.

You can hear Jungkook’s breaths coming from the other bed, paced and subdued as he continues to sleep soundly. Sneaking one look out of the slim window by your bed, you can see the faint traces of the dawn stirring in the horizon, struggling to lift the darkness of the night as the sun slowly rises. There is not that much to see — Jungkook didn’t seem to care much about where to park, only stopping when the darkness got too heavy and the road started twisting sharply, too dangerous to cross at night.

You’re in the middle of nowhere, but there’s a sense of stilled peace as you look out the window and observe the boundless countryside that extends in every direction. The ship is parked amidst a few large trees on the side of the narrow road, no signs of life in sight as the dark blue of the sky starts to turn into a richer, paler color.

The sound of early birds is new, too. It makes you get up, careful not to wake up Jungkook as you get out of the small ship to stretch your muscles. The air is cool on your skin and the birds continue to sing mindlessly, making the tiniest smile curve your lips as you look around in silence.

It has only been one night out of the six day trip, and you can’t figure out if you want it to pass in the blink of an eye or not. The atmosphere in Jungkook’s ship is too asphyxiating to handle, considering his overbearing stoicalness — but the silence is still welcoming, as it allows you to prepare yourself for the incoming reunion with Earth’s Leader.

Preparing yourself mainly consists of taking deep breaths, but at least it works, somehow.

You’re staring up at the trees — trying to search for the singing birds — when the door of the ship opens behind you, making you turn around to face the sight of a sleepy-eyed Jungkook. He finds your gaze through droopy eyelids, hair standing in every direction as he lifts his robotic arm to ruffle it even more.

You try not to smile at the surprisingly endearing sight. “Good morning.”

He nods mutely, averting his gaze as he starts walking away. You sigh deeply, placing your hands on your hips and pursing your lips.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m doing a quick checkup,” he calls from a few meters away, standing by the road as he starts fiddling with some buttons on his bionic arm. “Making sure no one’s following us.”

“You could have done that right here,” you mutter to yourself, huffing. You raise your voice then, hoping he does hear you this time, “do we have breakfast?”

“There’s a small freezer on the back. Suit yourself,” he doesn’t lift his gaze from his arm, completely still as he focuses his entire attention on the task at hand. You bite your lip, holding back another sigh as you walk back to the caravan. You grab the door handle, turning around one last time — Jungkook’s not looking at his arm anymore, hands inside his pockets as he absentmindedly gazes at the road.

“Do you want anything?” you call, voice inevitably awkward at the painfully halted atmosphere.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, voice never wavering — it is just as ice cold as ever, and the pang that invaded your chest yesterday comes back at full force, making you look away in defeat.

You do not reply, starting to wonder if initiating a conversation is a futile attempt at recovering a long gone friend who doesn’t want to be one anymore. And suddenly Jungkook’s words hit you again, blazing through your veins with waves of embarrassment as his cold voice repeats not everything is about you in a distant, soulless tone, echoing painfully against the walls of your mind.

Maybe it was his way of pointing out he just needed some time alone during this trip — and your constant prodding was probably not helping. You were worrying too much about feeling uncomfortable yourself, when you should have worried about Jungkook first. Right then and there, you promise yourself to give him all the space he needs, even if that means succumbing into a perennial silence.

You only keep that promise for an entire day.

You never knew how easily the hours could flow during road trips. Jungkook’s smooth driving takes you across barren lands and mountains and tattered bridges, a lonely side of Earth you never got to enjoy before, when all you knew was the twinkling city and Yoongi’s boundless mansion. It is certainly not as easy to keep your words to yourself when you spot extensive landscapes with unfamiliar animals scattered around, questions getting stuck on your throat as they rack up on top of the other.

You only stop twice before the night falls again, and Jungkook easily finds another spot to park when the moon is well above your heads. He stops by a narrow lake this time, next to a shoddy railing that separates land from water and only a few meters away from the main road. Tall mountains rise on the other side of the lake, making your legs tingle with vertigo when you look up at their sharp peaks — one of them almost grazes the round moon, impossibly smaller when compared to the sights of your station, but just as bright.

You barely startle when Jungkook’s small ship — almost resembling the cars you’ve seen in the main city — transforms for the second time. You dine in silence, you clean yourself in silence and stand by the railing in silence, until your eyes finally start to droop and beg for sleep. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen and you don’t question it, strangely convinced that even if he disappears for a while, sooner or later he will come back.

The narrow bed is starting to feel secure under your body, and the surprising comfort you find under the covers makes you fall asleep in no time. You wake up in the middle of the night to a consistent, tapping noise coming from every direction, making your heart jump to your throat as you sit up straight on the bed.

The first thing you do is look in the direction of Jungkook’s bed — still empty and perfectly made, as if he never touched it all night. It only makes the alarms in your head ring louder; that is, until you look out of the narrow window and find the source of the daunting noise.

Rain. You jump out of the bed, scrambling to the door and pushing it open, welcoming the ceaseless drops of water with an excited laugh. Your thin pajamas are nowhere near enough to cover you from the cold night or the downpour that falls from the sky, but the possibility of getting sick flies to the back of your mind as you walk under the rain, looking up with wonder.

It only rained a handful of times during your brief visits to Earth, and you were not allowed to step out in any of them. Yoongi was too averse to the water, and his word weighed like the law itself. Adding to that the magnified worry of your parents at the thought of their daughter getting sick in a foreign planet, walking under the rain was, to put it simply, impossible.

Such tight restriction only makes this rainfall even more pleasing. All the heaviness that loomed in the distance vanishes with the slide of the raindrops down your skin, and the darkness of the lonely road is not harrowing anymore, but thrilling and captivating. You stride towards the railing, staring at the entrancing fall of the rain above the stirring surface of the lake, and a sudden lump rises up your throat at such a fascinating sight. Never in your years on Earth — or the station, for that matter — did you feel so free, even if your current situation almost resembles that of a captive and their unyielding guard.

A sudden thought jumps to the front of your mind, making you turn around.

“Jungkook?” you call loudly, looking around. You freeze when you spot a figure in the distance, also leaning towards the railing and barely moving. The smile on your face is impossible to contain as you run towards him — you never forgot that he likes the rain, even if he only mentioned it once more than ten years ago. This is an opportunity you can’t pass up, one that might allow you to get a little bit closer if you seize it at the right moment.

The closer you get, the better you can delineate his figure under the moonlight, and the slower you walk in his direction. You stop a couple meters away from him, blinking in confusion at the sight in front of you.

His hands are curled around the rusty metal of the railing, so tightly it almost looks like he’s going to break them in any moment. He’s staring down at his own hands, frozen like a statue, and if you didn’t know better you’d assume it was just part of his silent, stoic behavior, but the look on his face breaks that facade entirely.

It twists around your heart and squeezes it — how similar he looks to the Jungkook you knew. Lost and confused but alive and determined, passionate, an idealist in a world of cynics. He finally turns in your direction, and the reddened edges of his human eye tell you he might have been crying not too long ago.

“Go back, you’ll get sick,” he says in a strained voice, rubbing his wet cheeks. You hold onto the railing as well, too stunned at the fragile look on his face.

“It’s okay,” you reply, eyes following the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I just need— can you leave? please.”

The retort dies on your lips before you can even form the words. The look on his face still has your thoughts swimming, and even if his bionic eye shows as much life as a lackluster machine, there’s still something in his gaze that makes it clear he’s just as human as you are. You nod, allowing the sound of the incessant pouring to replace your voice.

You feel somewhat defeated as you go back and walk inside the ship, hair and clothes completely soaked as they drip onto the dry floor. The rain is not soothing anymore, and even if you feel more awake than ever, you force yourself to change and go back to sleep — even if Jungkook’s gaze lodges itself at the front of your mind, with no way of pushing it away.

The rain never ceases, and you finally manage to fall unconscious to the gentle pitter-patter against the window, hoping for the rain to stop before the morning comes.

/

Contrary to what you used to believe, it seems like storms can last an entire day.

The rain is erratic and relentless, ceasing and pouring on and off throughout the morning and half the afternoon. You have not been able to get a glimpse of the sun like you wished, always hidden behind thick, grey clouds that look like they’re going to burst in any moment. A handful of times you saw the spark of thunder, lighting up the sky in less than a second and quickly followed by the angry rumble of the tempest.

It is a gloomy, heavy day, and it seems to be affecting Jungkook the most. It is hard to hide your concern in front of his bizarre mood swings, impassive when the sky clears up and quietly distressed every time the rain comes back. You come to the conclusion that it has to do something with the rain — it must be a trigger, brings back old memories he probably does not want to be reminded of. This conjecture keeps you from speaking up, even if the atmosphere only grows more strained by the second and keeps you on edge, muscles stiff as the roar of the storm completely replaces the silence.

Jungkook stops earlier than usual this time, sunset barely grazing the horizon as the sky slowly starts to clear up. The sun is finally visible, even if it’s already sinking down, and your heart feels light for the first time that day at the sight of its blazing glow. He parks near the entrance of a large forest that seems to extend for miles, its trees so tall your knees buckle when you look up at the crowns.

It is also much, much colder, too. You shiver the second you step out of the ship, hugging yourself as you stare at the way it transforms into a caravan. With the sky finally dry, Jungkook’s back to his inscrutable facade, and it’s almost less intimidating than his otherwise expressive gaze. Almost.

Looking towards the forest, the idea that suddenly hits you makes you speak up without realizing it, finally breaking the twelve hour silence none of you dared to shatter.

“Can we make a fire?” you smile nervously when Jungkook looks in your direction, acknowledging you for the first time that day. You point towards the forest, giving him a hesitant look. “We just need some logs, right? I just… I’ve never made one before, but I really want to. And it’s quite cold, so…”

“You can just hide inside the ship,” he states plainly, blinking confusedly. You sigh, shivering again.

“Yeah, I know, but that’s not the point. Can’t you just… tell me how to do it? you can wait here, I don’t mind.”

He looks towards the forest, already darkening under the melting sunset. “The logs will be wet.”

“Oh… you’re right. Is it impossible, then?”

He gives you a silent look, barely blinking for a couple of seconds before replying. “It can be done. Let’s go.”

He strides away without a warning, and you almost stumble as you follow him into the forest, careful to follow his steps. It is not entirely dark within the trees, but the sunlight that manages to filter is too poor to be able to see clearly. You have to squint so you don’t misstep, the uneven ground halting your steps and spreading the surface of your shoes with thick mud.

Jungkook stops a few minutes later, in front of a fallen tree that blocks the twisting path. He lifts his bionic arm then, and you have to hold back a noise of surprise when his metal hand starts to transform, turning into a deadly, sharp blade in a matter of seconds.

It was easy to forget what Jungkook really was — a weapon that belonged to Earth’s military, the subject of horror stories that outsiders whispered amongst each other for a light scare. He starts cutting the thick trunk as if he was sliding a knife through butter, getting rid of the humid surface first.

“Come here, I need you to hold onto the dry wood,” he calls out, making you startle before approaching him in fast steps. You work together in silence and for once it is not as suffocating, rapidly falling into a smooth routine as he cuts a few logs and places them on your arms.

None of you are expecting for the rain to start, though. You can’t help but laugh humorlessly, looking up at the tall trees as the sudden heavy rain filters inside. It quickly grows in intensity, soaking you from head to toe in a matter of seconds.

You drop the previously dry logs onto the ground, huffing as you place your hands on your hips.

“All that work for nothing. Sorry for making you do that—” your voice vanishes when you look up, blinking at the way he stares up at the sky with the tiniest glimpse of a smile on his lips. It does not vanish when he finally looks in your direction, shrugging as his hand transforms back into five metal fingers. His human hand brushes the wet fringe off his forehead, gaze clearer than ever as he looks into your eyes.

“Don’t worry. It was kind of fun while it lasted,” he sighs, looking towards the path that leads back to the ship. “We should go back, it’s too cold in here.”

You don’t move, lips parted slightly as he starts walking away. Only five steps later does he realize you’re not following him, turning around with a questioning look. You can only stare at him in disbelief, another bitter laugh falling off your lips.

“Are you serious? What is going on, Jungkook?”

“What?”

“I can tell you know what I mean,” going by the way he purses his lips, he definitely does. “Look— you don’t owe me an explanation, I know that. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me anything. But, at least… you can at least tell me to mind my own business, that it has nothing to do with me or this trip. Just— anything. Say anything!” you throw your hands into the air, voice trembling at the overwhelming emotions you’ve been holding back for so long. “Please. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s scary to see you like this— acting a million different ways from one second to another. And I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t push you like this had you been a stranger, but you used to be a friend. You can’t expect me to forget that.”

The rain never stops, and the sound of the storm starts invading your senses when your voice finally dies down. Jungkook’s not looking at your face anymore, hands inside his pockets as his chest falls and rises with his deep breaths.

“Does the rain bother you?” you ask tentatively, barely moving. “Is that it?”

“I’m a Ranger of Earth’s Armed Force,” he finally says, voice clear as it cuts through the intense rain.

“I know.”

“You don’t,” he replies, lips pursing. “You don’t know why we get upgraded the way we do. You probably just tell scary stories in Argent Station, of us turning into bloodthirsty robots, brainwashed to kill and fight and who knows what else— and I honestly, honestly wish that was the truth.”

Your heart almost stops at his words. It is the first time in years you hear him talk this much, that you heard such rawness in his voice, and you’re too afraid of interrupting, barely breathing as you wait for him to continue.

“We get replacements for the tiniest injuries. We get trained to be better and stronger than any other human. We are modified all over to live like immortals, to be the envy of the rest of the world, to show off how perfect we are to the universe. But if there is something they can’t change, it’s the way we think,” he smiles, a gesture that holds an immense amount of sadness, and you have to swallow down the sudden lump in your throat. “No amounts of technology can change the human mind, contrary to what you might believe.”

You bite your lip, opening your mouth hesitantly. “Then why…”

“Why do I act like I don’t have a conscience anymore? That’s because I have to,” he lifts his bionic arm, perfectly polished even under the heavy downpour. “Not all of this is metal. My bones and muscles are still there, deep down — and it is all completely joined so I can never rip off my arm without dying in the process.”

You can’t find it in yourself to hide the horror in your gaze. He curls and uncurls his fingers, lowering his arm.

“This arm is not just a weapon, it is also the most complex device the military has ever created. It includes a GPS tracking unit, a health aid, a mood tracker, a noise level monitor— you get the point.”

“It… controls everything you do,” you swallow, looking at his arm with plain despair.

“I wish it controlled me,” he looks down at his arm. “That’d be easier. It just monitors where I am, what I hear and how I feel. What I do is up to me,” he looks at you again, expression almost translucent with the amount of truth that keeps leaving his lips. “To make things less difficult, us rangers just prefer to live an emotionless life. You end up getting used to it, and sometimes you can almost fool yourself into believing you actually got rid of your humanity.”

“How are you speaking to me like this, then?” your heart jumps at the thought of the military jumping down the sky in a matter of seconds, ready to make Jungkook pay for the immeasurable betrayal he just committed. “You shouldn’t be telling me this…”

“The rain,” he points at the sky, staring up again for a few seconds. “My system is… kind of flawed, has been for a while. I convinced them to fix it after getting this over with— which wasn’t that hard to do, considering it’s a job for Min Yoongi. The signals my transmitters send aren’t as strong as they should be, and the rain distorts them enough to block them completely.”

“Which means… you can be yourself when it rains,” you let out a long exhale as it all finally falls into place.

“This trip is my first time seeing the light of day in… five years,” he licks his lips, voice lowering down. “I’ve been training in our basement for too long.”

“How long has it been since you saw the rain?” you’re almost afraid to know the answer.

“Way longer than that. It’s been… really overwhelming for me,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “I apologize. I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head, soaked hair sticking to your face. “Don’t ever, ever say you’re sorry for that.”

He nods, biting his lip again. The rain is still going strong and you desperately beg for it to keep pouring, even if your hands and feet are numb from the cold.

“But… how do you know you can trust me with all of this?” you wonder, unable to stop yourself.

He grows coy at that, though it’s almost impossible to tell through the dense curtain of rain. “You probably never noticed, but everyone always considered you someone reliable. Earthlings always thought that any outsider with exclusive access to Min Yoongi would leak a million secrets, all sorts of truths and lies. You proved them you weren’t like that.”

You nod blankly, stranger to the notion that seemed widespread on Earth. Keeping Min Yoongi’s ‘secrets’ was not something you had to struggle with — after all, you were only a teenager that was hopelessly in love.

“That’s what Earth thought,” he adds, smiling shyly. “As for me… it’s just instinct, I guess. I never saw you as someone I needed to keep my secrets from.”

You nod, feeling suddenly sheepish yourself as an involuntary smile lifts the corners of your lips. “That’s… thank you.”

“Remember when I told you I liked the rain?” he asks, eyes bright under the downpour. The quiet smile is still intact on his lips. “As you can see, that hasn’t changed at all.”

Suddenly you’re both eight years old again, small and confused and looking at each other in the eye for the first time. It is a nice, warm feeling, even if it comes with strong waves of nostalgia that make your chest constrict.

“It hasn’t changed for me either,” you add. “Even if I can barely feel my body right now.”

His smile vanishes at that. “Oh. We should go back.”

“Yeah,” you manage to laugh through the teetering of your teeth, quickly approaching him as you both rush back to the ship. Jungkook turns on the heating when you walk inside, shaking his drenched hair as drops of cold water fall onto your skin.

You chuckle again, but your laughs fall into silence when the insistent noise of the rain starts to lose its intensity. You give Jungkook an alarmed look, who quickly adopts a serious look that loses its glow.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say quickly, words stumbling out of your mouth in a rush. “And I’m sorry for pushing it out of you. I am glad I know now, though.”

He nods, nervously looking out of the narrow windows. There’s still rain, but it’s considerably milder now.

“You’re… very brave—” your words halt when you notice a lurid glow coming from the small buttons that cover the underside of his bionic arm, which wasn’t there before.

And just like that, the Jungkook you saw before falls under the mask of a Ranger. He barely gives you a glance, nodding quietly again as he starts unbuttoning his soaked jacket.

“Go change and have some dinner. If the rain makes you sick, there are medicines in the cabinet—” he stops talking when you place your hand above his, which holds onto one of the buttons of his jacket.

He barely moves for a few seconds, finally gifting you a hesitant but gentle smile. That’s enough reassurance you need to know that the real Jungkook is there — hidden under too many layers, but still as genuine as the transparent look his eyes adopted when the rain poured down on him.

Just like earlier, an undisturbed silence quells any chance of conversation, but it is not smothering this time. Instead, you find yourself breathing a little easier, even if it’s your third day on the road and your reunion with Min Yoongi can already be glimpsed in the horizon.

For a second you wish the clouds never stopped pouring, but you doubt three-day storms can happen under Earth’s sky. It is still a nice thought to entertain, accompanying your tired mind as the veil of night reveals the stars you’ve always gazed at from your station.

The silence feels like a third passenger by now, lending you solace as you dine under the stars before crashing onto the bed. You whisper good night when Jungkook appears a few minutes later, and even if he doesn’t say it back, your heart feels at ease and you hope his does, too.

It’s the least he deserves.

/

You wake up to the sun on your face, broad stripes of daylight heating your skin as you slowly become aware of your surroundings. It is the fourth day of your trip, and the notion makes you wonder if your body is processing time on Earth differently. The hours seem to slip like water between your fingers, and one day becomes another in the blink of an eye, never waiting for your brain to catch up. The sudden sense of urgency that overcomes your body makes you get up, forcing your mind off its torpid haze as you look around the inside of the ship.

Jungkook is nowhere to be seen in the narrow quarters. Then again, there is no need to be hopeful for a conversation today — not when the sun is blazing as it is, heating the inside as it filters through the windows. You find him outside, leaning against one of the trees that line up the side of the road, eyes closed and head tilted up to absorb the sunlight.

You almost ask if it’s been that long since he allowed himself to feel the sun, but the lack of rain halts your question, almost shivering at the thought of his superiors hearing your words. He has probably acknowledged your presence already — the silence is deep enough for your steps to be heard with acute clarity, shoes stepping on dry leaves as you approach one of the trees and imitate him. Back against the trunk, eyes closed, face up.

It takes you a few seconds to get used to the incandescent glow that pierces through your eyelids, but in a matter of seconds you can feel your shoulders unwinding and your muscles untwisting from the knots of stress you’ve been carrying for months. The sound of his breathing, steady and gentle, is strangely comforting as it mingles with the chirping of birds that also welcome the sunny, warm dawn.

You don’t know how much time passes, but soon enough your stomach starts growling, and you open your eyes fast enough to catch the hint of a smile on Jungkook’s face. That measly gesture is all you need for now, walking back to the ship with a smile of your own.

The rest of the day flows in the same fashion, tinged with quietness and the lukewarm air. The lowered windows allow for the breeze to filter inside as Jungkook drives, and your heart beats in peace as the wind ruffles your hair and caresses your heated skin. More than once you have to retain yourself from speaking up, random words crawling to the tip of your tongue — and even if they’re mostly innocent, a small part of you fears for Jungkook’s life, which lies so heavily on the military’s shoulders, not his. The paranoia only grows as you overanalyze each word that wants to come out, tiring your mind and ultimately deciding to stay quiet throughout the day.

After a few brief stops and interminable minutes of muted driving across barren land, a sudden, salty scent in the air shifts the atmosphere. It makes you perk up, immediately forgetting the idea of taking a quick nap as you look out of the window in alert and faint familiarity.

“What— I think I’ve smelt that before…” you forget, once again, the promise of silence you made to yourself. You lean towards the opened window, inhaling deeply as you narrow your eyes at the sunny scenery. Medium sized mountains flank the long road, forbidding you from looking any further. “What is it?”

“That’s the smell of the sea. The coast is near,” Jungkook states, which makes your eyes widen as you snap your head towards him.

“The coast!?”

He nods, barely stirring at your loud reaction. “Passing the coast is the fastest way to get to Our Leader’s cottage.”

The bubbling excitement rising up your stomach manages to shadow Jungkook’s apathetic tone, suddenly feeling more awake than ever as you look out of the window again.

“How long until we see it?” you can’t help but writhe on your seat, biting your bottom lip to push down the broad grin that tries to stretch your mouth. “This is so cool, I have never seen a beach before.”

“Just wait a little.”

You feel like a child all over again, waiting expectantly for new sights to grace your eyes as Jungkook continues to drive in silence. You almost lose your breath when the lines of mountains start to wane, allowing you to look at the other side. Your lips part when you spot a long, blue stripe that fades into the horizon, glistening and sparkling under the sun. The coast extends for miles and miles, gentle waves meeting golden sand in the distance. Once again, you’re surprised by how natural it all looks — completely untouched by humans, unlike the modern city you grew accustomed to.

The smell is potent but alluring, piercing your nostrils and swelling your chest with exhilaration. Turning to Jungkook, you allow your words to pour out without any kind of barrier, too enthusiastic to think twice about it.

“Let’s stop here,” you say, unable to hold back your smile. He stays completely focused on the road, profile as serious as ever. “What time is it? sunset must be approaching soon.”

He gnaws on his lip, mulling over your words for a few long seconds.

“I think we can stop for today. We’re still on schedule, I believe.”

“Yes, we are,” you nod, even though you have no clue about your whereabouts. “You can stop by the sand, if that’s okay.”

Strangely, Jungkook listens. The ship smoothly glides above the ground as it swerves towards the sand, stopping relatively close to the main road. The sea is only a few meters away, and closer than it has ever been. You practically bolt out of the vehicle, gasping at the strange feeling of sand under your shoes — it makes you struggle for a few seconds, trying to get used to the malleable surface as you slowly approach the transparent ocean.

You stare at the ripples of water as they try to reach your feet, regressing and expanding over and over in tender motions. You kneel down and extend your hand, allowing your fingers to graze the slightly cold water before pulling back.

Getting up again, you turn around, using your hands as a shield from the stinging sun as you try to spot Jungkook. You find him standing by the ship, looking down and fiddling with his bionic arm.

“I’m going to get in the water!” you call out, making him give you a stunned look. You can only muster a cheerful smile, though the blush coloring your cheeks is unavoidable. “Turn around, and don’t look.”

You almost laugh at the rapid manner in which he turns around, his back facing the coast and allowing you to take off the thick layers of clothes meant for a chillier weather. The excitement seems to have clouded your judgement — the usually tamer side of you would have definitely hesitated before stripping to her underwear in public, but the glistening waters and the smell of the ocean seem to have cleared your mind from any troubling thoughts. Dropping your clothes onto the sand, you quickly stride towards the water, splashing all around you as gasps continuously leave your mouth at the first contact with water.

Time seems to still while you enjoy the salty ocean for the first time in your life, swimming mindlessly under the sun as it slowly sinks into the sea, finally announcing the sunset. It is not until you finally start shivering that you decide to leave the water, sky slowly darkening as the glow of the sunlight transforms into a dimmer shade of purple.

You all but run towards your clothes, halting when you see a folded towel on top of the messy pile. It makes you look up with a smile, hoping to mutter a quick thank you in Jungkook’s direction, but — unsurprisingly — the ranger is nowhere to be seen. You sigh and cover yourself with the towel, gathering your clothes as you walk back towards the ship.

You walk out of fully clothed and refreshed around fifteen minutes later, stopping in your tracks when you spot the makeshift bonfire Jungkook has created by the ship. It is definitely on the smaller side, and its fire is not as strong as you imagined it would be, but the glow is just as alluring as the wood cracks under the orange billows. Jungkook is sitting crosslegged on the sand, human hand above the fire and gaze lost in the flames.

Your usual wariness has not made an appearance yet, still buried under your unwinded muscles and quiet mind. You barely hesitate as you take a seat by his side, voice breaking the spell casted by the blazing ringlets.

“Did you just run off somewhere to find some logs?”

He continues to warm up his hand, barely giving you a glance from the corner of his eye.

“There’s a small forest a few miles away.”

“A few miles,” you repeat, snorting under your breath. “Well, thank you. It’s getting a bit colder, isn’t it?”

He does not reply this time, but you cannot find it in yourself to be upset in any way. You lift your hands to warm them up, watching silently as he gently presses his fingers on the underside of his robotic arm. The motion lifts a small, discrete lid, unveiling an intricate set of circuitry that Jungkook starts fiddling with using his human fingers, movements careful but effortless at the same time.

He finishes in a matter of seconds, closing the lid again before turning to you with a look in his eyes you’ve come to easily recognize.

“Since my system is damaged, I figured out a way to turn it off temporarily. It will take them around five minutes to realize my signal is off, then another fifteen or twenty to restart the system.”

You all but jump to your feet, already taking off your light jacket with a huge grin on your face. Your previously tranquil heart is now thumping vehemently, its beating loud against your ears.

“Why don’t we take a bath? You won’t get a chance like this any other time.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, but the pleading look in your eyes seems to convince him. He sighs before standing up, brushing the sand off his uniform before starting to unbutton his jacket. You start walking away, feeling suddenly sheepish as you stride towards the beach while forcing yourself to look ahead and not behind.

You decide to leave your t-shirt on this time, letting the waves caress your legs as the water deepens all around you, only stopping when it finally reaches your shoulders. You submerge yourself a few times, trying to get used to the significantly colder current.

You never turn around, only doing so when you feel a sudden splash against the back of your neck. Only Jungkook’s head is visible above the water, hair already soaked and amused smile fixed on his lips.

Strangely enough, words are barely needed. You both swim without any direction in mind and splash each other from time to time, enjoying what’s left of the day as the night rapidly approaches. Jungkook seems to be overly wary of his movements, never truly relaxing, and you cannot blame him — the minutes vanish painfully fast, and sooner than expected he claims there are only ten minutes left before his system gets restarted.

With the sky fully dark now, you both step out of the water, noticeably shivering as you both sprint towards the extended ship for dry towels. A few minutes later you’re sitting in front of the dying fire, fully clothed but still trembling as Jungkook adds more logs to the burnt ones.

“Five minutes left,” he sighs as the fire slowly picks up, sitting next to you and giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry. We didn’t get to speak much this time.”

“That was my fault,” you give him a close-lipped smile, still warming your hands on the rising flames. “I got a little bit too excited about seeing you swim.”

“That’s okay. I enjoyed it.”

Your eyes connect for a few seconds, shivering again as a sense of déjà vu tingles up your spine. His eyes are certainly not the same — while one of them is sharply blue and glints with faint traces of minuscule, advanced circuitry, the other is a shadow of his past self, still as wide and curious but also jagged and rough around the edges. And even if you miss seeing two human eyes on him, you can’t help but find them just as engrossing, if not more.

“Well… you can tell me more about yourself in what little time we have left,” you suggest, turning to the flames and breaking the heavy connection.

He sighs, though it is not a tired sound. “More? there’s… not much more. You probably know what happened to my father—”

That makes you perk up, eyes widening. “No, I don’t.”

He seems doubtful for a second, and you can almost notice the way he tenses up under his uniform. You’re about to reassure him he’s not obligated to speak, but then he’s parting his lips and filling up for the suddenly taut silence, voice lower than usual as his eyes gaze down.

“I was so sure you heard about it. Yoongi, he… he killed him because of a harmless mistake. And I was so brainwashed I believed him when he said he’d done the right thing,” he clears his throat, getting noticeably worked up. “That’s what he does— he brainwashes people. It took me years to realize he’d stolen my life from me, and now it’s too late to do something about it.”

Your chest constricts at his strained words, cold breeze brushing against your skin and making you shiver again. “It’s not too late.”

A bitter laugh escapes his mouth, features tense as he avoids your stare. “What do I have left, Y/N? As much as I hate it— all I have is Yoongi.”

“You could’ve… sought help with us.”

“And start the war everyone know is just waiting to break out,” he retorts immediately. You can feel your own blood boiling as well, a mixture of sadness and frustration and a raging irritation that starts bubbling out of nowhere.

“Better than being stuck with someone who brainwashed you—”

“ —And we’d all die in the process. I don’t know if you noticed, but Earth controls it all.”

An intermittent sound disrupts the heated conversation, making Jungkook look down at his wristwatch with pursed lips. He does not say anything, but you don’t need him to clear it up — his time is up, and for the first time, you prefer it that way.

You get up on your feet, ignoring the biting winds of the night as you look down at Jungkook. He’s looking at you already, gaze inescrutable as it connects with your glare. You are not supposed to continue the conversation, but the words still fly past your lips, pouring out in a quiet but firm tone of voice.  

“At least I’d be dying for the right people.”

You stride towards the ship, getting inside and breathing deeply when the door closes behind you. You welcome the loneliness with open arms, even if it brings out the waves of nostalgia you’ve been trying to hold back for days now. Lying down on the bed, you close your eyes tightly, mind reeling and chest tight as the longing for your home in space grows painfully, curling around your limbs like a merciless coiled snake.

You fall asleep to the memory of Hoseok’s words and his familiar warmth, reminding you that even if your feeble home has already lost, not even Jungkook can make you love Earth just as much.

/

The sky is still fully dark when you wake up again, familiar noises caressing your ears as you stir under the covers, groaning weakly. Rubbing at your heavy-lidded eyes, you gaze out of the window, heart stuttering when you spot the raindrops rapidly hitting the dampened surface.

Discussion long forgotten, you approach a sleeping Jungkook, still completely unconscious as you nudge him on the shoulder. He groans in his sleep, frowning as you try to wake him up.

“Jungkook,” you call in a drowsy voice, and he finally stirs. He only opens his human eye, giving you a confused stare as he tries to figure out his surroundings. “It’s raining.”

He blinks at that, holding back a yawn, as he straightens up on the bed. His hair is sticking in every direction, dark fringe falling lazily on his forehead as he gives the window a fuddled stare. It takes him a few seconds to unveil the meaning of your words, letting out a gentle oh as he turns back in your direction.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to stay dry this time.”

You can’t help but chuckle, sitting on the edge of your bed as you continue to stare at his drowsy expression. It is almost pitch black inside, but your eyes have easily adapted to the night, allowing you to delineate his gentle features as he struggles to wake up.

“Me too. Listen…” you clear your throat, fingers fidgeting on your lap. “I wanted to apologize.”

He quickly shakes his head, gaze slightly clearer when he meets yours. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I feel like I’m always letting out my anger on you, and it’s not fair. You already have enough on your plate.”

“Let’s just say we both have a lot to deal with,” you smile, chest swelling when he returns the gesture. “We can talk about something else, if you want.”

And for a long while, you do. Jungkook’s raspy voice interlaces with the appeasing sounds of the unabating rain like they’re meant to blend together, yours joining every now and then as the conversation explores your childhood and other mindless, innocent topics. The load of explosive feelings you experienced yesterday vanish with the rain, which does not weaken in any moment as the night flows with quiet ease.

Soon enough you’re sitting by his side on his bed, voices growing gentler and hushed though there is no need to be cautious. He’s telling an embarrassing moment of his early teens, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and coy, while you try to hold back the laughter that is begging to burst out.

“I’m so glad you didn’t get to see that,” he continues, scratching the back of his neck. “I had the biggest crush on you then— it would have been ten times more embarrassing.”

The laughter crawling up your throat is not as uncontrollable anymore, skin slowly heating up as you process his casual words. He seems to realize what he said a few seconds later, eyes widening and looking even more bashful, if possible.

“Wait— Yoongi was right?” you wonder, lost memories springing to the top of your mind as you recall a few casual conversations you and Yoongi had. He only mentioned it a handful of times, and it was always laced with an indifference that never made you take it seriously.

“Ah… yeah,” he bites his lip, stirring on the spot. “Does it bother you?”

“What? no, not at all!” you reply quickly, shaking your head as your heart continues to stutter. It is beating faster now, and you have to push down the urge to squirm nervously. “Just surprising, that’s all. I always thought he was joking.”

“Well, he wasn’t,” the sheepish smile he’s wearing makes him look years younger — if it weren’t for his bionic eye, you’re sure it would be a perfect image of the Jungkook of the past. A sudden awkwardness starts thickening the air, making you scramble for another topic of conversation within your flustered thoughts, but he speaks up before you’re able to embarrass yourself.

“Talking about Yoongi,” he begins, looking away. “When you two broke up… what happened? I never understood. Your relationship seemed to be going really well.”

“You don’t know?” he shakes his head, making you take a deep breath as you try to organize your thoughts. The memories of the break up are fuzzy and disorganized in your head, almost blurry after so long not thinking about them. “That day he was very… worked up. Said that he’d placed his trust on me, which he had never done before with anyone, but was convinced that I didn’t trust him back. He… he said he was sure something would end up happening between you and me if I kept going to his house, and he couldn’t stand that thought,” you swallow, muscles stiffening as the memories grow vivid in your mind. Though they do not affect you now, it was almost traumatic for your teenage self, who found in Yoongi someone she thought was her true love. “He told me he was starting to hate us both because of it— he was obsessed with the idea of us eloping, or something. I don’t know… it was too confusing at the time. He just… kicked me off Earth, and told me I should stay as far away as possible. Yeah… that’s it.”

Jungkook stays silent for a while, only the harsh patter of raindrops breaking the hefty silence.

“Do you think he was right?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think something might have happened?” he’s not looking at you, though his words are quiet and serious. A fluttery sensation starts filling your stomach, one you haven’t experienced in years, but is still as intense as you remember it, if not more.

“Well.. you remember that night. In the balcony,” you lick your dried lips, wondering if he remembers. He nods, and you take a long breath. “I think… maybe… yeah.”

“I do think about it sometimes,” he confesses and your heart skips a beat, leaving a burning sensation on your chest. “If we were both earthlings, or both outsiders… no titles in the way, no Min Yoongi. I think we could’ve made each other very happy.”

You bite your trembling lip, eyes getting slightly dizzy with tears you do not want to let out. His words hit home, for some reason — maybe it’s hearing him talk about no barriers in the way, how different your lives could have been had you not been born in the positions you both inherited. Maybe it’s the realization of how right it all sounds, and the deep certainty of finding happiness had you both found each other in different circumstances.

You blink repeatedly, trying to keep the tears away as you furiously seek for the strong facade you’ve kept up since you were named Commander. You wonder if it’s the rain what pushes the vulnerability out of you, but one look at Jungkook’s eyes assures you that’s not exactly the case.

He leans closer, and you do not move when you feel his lips brushing yours. He’s painfully tentative at first, even when you encourage him with your fingers grazing his own; and even if his gentleness is always laced in his gestures, there’s a burning passion that slowly grows and turns his movements a little more insistent and paced, almost frantic. Like you are running out of time.

It makes sense, in a way. The rain isn’t going to last forever, and that realization makes you press your lips against him with even more determination, drawing a rumbling groan from his throat as the kiss deepens. The slide of his tongue in your mouth mutes your surroundings, turning off the constant rain as his arms enclose your body against his, gasping against his mouth when the cold metal of his arm presses against your back.

“Sorry,” he mutters against your lips, quickly letting you go. You grab onto his bionic arm, placing it back as you smile softly.

“It’s fine,” you kiss him again, words long forgotten as you both pick up the pace. His arm might be steely cold, but you feel warm all over, heat spreading across your skin like wildfire under his tender, consuming movements.

Time loses its meaning, and you’re almost sweating by the time reality calls you back. The kisses are unrestrained and insistent, and your fingers have run through his hair a thousand times as loud sighs escape your lips with the brush of his lips against your neck and collarbone. You only open your eyes when a shift in the atmosphere makes you halt, slowly realizing that the rain is finally calming down and the drops are not as persistent against the chassis of the ship.

“Jungkook,” you gasp in a raspy voice, squeezing his shoulder. His mouth stills above the sensitive skin of your neck, taking a few seconds to breathe before looking at the window.

“Oh,” he murmurs, sighing deeply. “The system will probably get back up in a couple minutes.”

“Jungkook,” you call again, making him look at you. His human eye is more vibrant than ever, almost as shiny as the striking blue of his other eye, and the sight of such overwhelming mix makes you forget your words for a second. “They can’t see what you see, right?”

He shakes his head. “They can detect sounds, my position, physical health… not much more than that.”

“Good,” you smile. The rain has stopped now, but you dare steal one last kiss from him; a quick, silent peck to seal the night.

You can feel his stare boring into your skin as you go back to your bed in a daze, barely grasping the recent events that still have your heart galloping against your ribcage. Jungkook’s breathing, still slightly loud, is the only proof that it was not a figment of your imagination, stirring and warming your stomach in a surprisingly pleasant way.

You do not dare think what all of this might imply — and for once, the future is not the first worry at the top of your mind.

/

The fifth day of your trip seems to have erased all traces of last night’s rain. The skies are clear and fair like they’ve never been, auguring a balmy weather that’s fitting for the approach of summer. Though you slept soundly after your conversation with Jungkook, you still feel somewhat sluggish as you step out of the ship to welcome the morning. You blink as you spot Jungkook a few meters away, phone on his ear as words you can barely hear flow past his lips.

Contrary to the ruffled, dozy appearance he had last night, he’s now impeccably dressed in his usual uniform, dark hair just as untarnished. His firm stance in the middle of the tranquil beach stands out like a sore thumb, almost a stranger compared to the quiet, unwinded Jungkook you got to see yesterday. You jolt when he starts approaching you, cheeks heating up involuntarily when you meet his eyes.

A wince on his lips, he slowly hands you the phone, almost reluctantly.

“It’s Min Yoongi. He’s checking up on us, and wants to talk to you.”

A cold shudder rakes up and down your back, making your heart jump with sudden apprehension. You shake your head rapidly, not daring to say a word. He must have seen the clear terror on your face, because he quickly takes back his hand, placing his phone on his ear again.

“Sorry. She’s busy right now,” he lies, still looking into your eyes as you give him a strained but grateful smile. Knowing Min Yoongi, he will not buy it, and Jungkook is probably aware of that already, but at least you managed to avoid a very awkward conversation. “But don’t worry, everything is going as planned. We will be there by noon tomorrow.”

Hearing Jungkook acknowledging it out loud makes you avert your gaze, overcome by the familiar aggravation at the merciless pass of time, too fast for your liking.

Finishing his call, you do not expect for him to lean closer to brush his lips against yours in a muted kiss. The contact is gentle, barely there, but still makes your heart race as he takes a step back to give you a soft stare.

“We should get going.”

You nod, knowing it’s inevitable. You can only look forward to one last night in the small ship as you board it in silence, stomach empty but lacking appetite as the countdown for tomorrow shines brightly at the front of your mind. You are unable to focus on the scenery as much as you would like, mind drifting towards unknown futures and your home in space.

Looking up at the sunny sky through the windows only reminds you of what lies farther away, beyond the stratosphere and among the stars — and the reminder of its uncertain fate pushes down the panic that starts to rise when thinking of seeing Min Yoongi again.

Before stepping on Earth, you were not entirely sure if it was wise to fear him or not. More than any rumors you heard surrounding his questionable means, it was the passing of time and the lost of a friendship — a lover — what kept his intentions in the dark. Min Yoongi is not someone who lets others understand him, only leaving silent clues in his path for the quick-witted to pick up on, and if that has not changed, then you are just as clueless as the average person. 

Being clueless is what stirs up the fear more than anything else — not knowing what steps to take, and walking blindly before stepping on a perilous rock. A rock that could mean the destruction of your station if you were not careful enough.

That simmering fear has not vanished, but now a different kind of dread twists around your bones and freezes them over. You thought you had heard the worst when you listened to the tales of Earth’s armed force, but Jungkook’s story make them seem lighthearted, to say the least. A military that has been enslaved but is still feared and respected, real humans that do not want to lose their humanity, but have no other choice than to hide it. Jungkook losing his father to the hands of the person you still had a sliver of hope for, which has finally transformed into a fear and a resentment you have been trying to avoid.

These thoughts follow you throughout the day, and you can barely force yourself to eat the minimum your body requires during the brief, silent stops you make. By the fall of night you feel immensely fatigued, even though you have barely moved all day, and you blame it all on the corrosive thoughts that keep running in circles inside your head.

You barely register Jungkook parking by a mountain, cluttered in what looks like pine trees that sway gently with the winds. You wait outside as the small ship extends and lengthens, practically jumping inside at the thought of finding refuge in the narrow bed.

Jungkook walks inside a few seconds later, and the look on his face, so open and worried, tells you he turned off his system again. He sits on the edge on your bed, never looking away as your heartbeats turn slightly faster.

“You have been thinking all day, haven’t you?” he asks with a quiet smile, still keeping his distance. “A few times I just wanted to pull over and get you out of your head.”

You manage to smile at that. A warmth is starting to fill your knotted stomach, one that probably comes from seeing the real Jungkook for the first time today. He slowly reaches for your hand and you don’t hesitate as you grasp his fingers with yours, interlacing them in peaceful silence as you feel the softness of each other’s skin.

“Just nervous,” you reply, voice barely audible. “Come here.”

He joins you on your bed, lying on your sides and gazing at each other. Your fingers itch to stroke the fringe that falls on his forehead, so you let them. You push the strands away from his face, gazing at the bionic eye that follows your movements intently.

“Why did they change your eye?”

“I got it when I officially joined the force. I was eighteen,” he explains, staring at a faraway spot as he remembers. “It doesn’t have much purpose… it’s just considered an initiation of sorts. I got my arm when I was twenty one.”

“Did it hurt?”

“The eye didn’t. I was unconscious,” his rested expression fades when he frowns, seemingly uncomfortable with the images in his head. “The arm, on the other hand… I felt most of it, I believe. The pain was so big I can’t remember much.”

You sigh, trying not to think too much of a tormented Jungkook, suffering in silence under such disturbing operation. You try not to jolt when you feel the tentative touch of his bionic fingers on your hip, cold but soft as he grazes them with vacillation.

“Enough about me, tell me about you. I feel like we only talk about myself.”

You snort at that, sharing a brief smile before you begin to talk about your station. It is not that interesting, considering most of your days consisted of paperwork and meetings that could last half a day, but the more you ramble about life up there, the more bright memories leap forward, ones you did not even remember you had.

You talk about Hoseok and Seokjin, about the ever so present sun faraway in space, and how close and big the moon could get during particular days of the month. The fondness drips onto your every word and you hope Jungkook notices how much more there is to that minuscule machine that floats in the sky, a beautiful place that earthlings do not glance at more than once.

You only stop talking when Jungkook’s wrist watch announces the time is up. He does not move back to his bed — but presses a few tender pecks on your lips instead, as quiet as possible as his arms gently squeeze you against him.

You both fall asleep that way, with his breaths against your cheek and the illusion that you’re free. You do not have any dreams that night, even though you expected nightmares to plague your head for hours on end, and you suppose you owe that to Jungkook’s hold on you, which never wavers throughout the night.

/

You have been trying to take deep breaths ever since you woke up this morning, but it is to no avail.

The sixth day sweeps by even faster, if possible. Soon enough Jungkook announces there are only ten minutes left until you reach Min Yoongi’s cottage, and not even the charming, narrow path nor the dense trees surrounding you can help you breathe a little easier. It is probably no more than your distressed mind, but the trees look more menacing than usual, looming over your heads as they hide the sunlight and engulf you in darkness. You can barely look out of the window to face the daunting scene, too paralyzed to deflect your gaze from your restless hands on your lap.

Your heart almost plummets when Jungkook starts driving up a hill — Min Yoongi’s private house is probably high in the mountain, with breathtaking views that rival those of his house in the main city. Your heart is beating so fast it almost becomes painful, breaths irregular as you try to figure out how to get enough air into your lungs. Silence with Jungkook went from strained to peaceful throughout your trip, but it feels like you’re back to the first day, surrounded by an asphyxiating atmosphere that only manages to tense up your muscles even more.

You haven’t overlooked Jungkook’s rigid stance, nor the way he grips the modern steering wheel with more force than necessary. You would not be surprised if it broke under the grip of his bionic arm, menacing-looking and contrasting the gentle touches of last night.

You almost stop breathing when the lines of trees start receding, leading towards a house almost entirely made of wood. Large windows cover the walls of the three-store mansion, allowing the yellowish glow of the interior to pour into the green areas of the outside. Even if there is still sunlight, the sunset is rapidly taking over, tampering the otherwise blue sky into vivid, merged tones. In any other occasion you would have gazed at the house with awe and anticipation, desiring to explore every corner and its vast surroundings of sheer nature.

Right now you feel like crawling out of your skin, and if you were honest with yourself, you would rather be thrown into space without any sort of spacesuit or air supply.

Jungkook finally parks the ship, and his long sigh fills the stilled air. You both turn to each other at the same time, and you’re surprised to find an equally terrified look on his face. He never tends to show any kind of emotion when he knows he’s being monitored, but it seems like he cannot help it this time. Somehow, it makes you feel a little bit less alone.

“Good luck,” he says, voice tighter than usual. He purses his lips, throwing a quick glance at Min Yoongi’s cottage before turning back to you. “He told me to wait and spend the night in my ship.  Depending on how things turn out, I will be taking you both to the capital tomorrow morning.”

“For what?”

He does not have an answer for that. He clears his throat, giving the cottage another nervous look.

“I’ll be here if any of you need me.”

You sigh in frustration, but ultimately decide to let it go. The first instinct that overcomes your body is to lean forward to give him one last kiss, but there’s a looming knowledge that tells you Yoongi might be watching already. You ignore the shudders running up and down your back, nodding once before opening the door.

“Thank you.”

You share one last silent look, and he nods in encouragement before letting you go. You get out and close the door behind you, not daring to look at him again as your wobbly legs take you to the main door of the rustic house.

The last time you felt this way was during your father’s funeral. Like your feet are not yours and you’re watching everything from a hidden spot, faraway from the tense scene that is about to unfold. Like the heart beating erratically belongs to someone else, thoughts frenzied but faint at the same time, pushed far down and barely echoing against the walls of your mind.

Your body seems to be aware of your befuddled mind, because it automatically takes you to the door even if your brain refuses. You tremble when you notice the door is already slightly open, pushing it and walking inside in complete silence.

You are not able to focus on the lavish decorations on the inside. Your eyes are immediately drawn to Min Yoongi, the man who is not a restless teenage boy anymore, but rather someone who looks well put together, with a clear, polite gaze and a charming smile.

He looks… friendly.

“Hey. It’s been a while,” he says, still smiling. He’s wearing comfortable clothes, loose jeans and a navy button down shirt that perfectly fits his lean torso. On the other hand, his hair is not dark anymore, but a soft blonde that makes him look more amicable, if possible. “Please, come in. Are you hungry? we can have some dinner, if you’d like.”

“Hello. Uh— thank you, but I’m okay,” you reply in a distant voice, feeling slightly stunned as you try to grasp the strange situation. You enter the house with hesitant steps, looking around and trying not to shiver under Yoongi’s attentive gaze. The interior is the sheer definition of coziness, brown and green furniture evenly distributed and pleasant to the eye, a stark comparison to the excessive amount of lavish paraphernalia of his other home.

“That’s fine. Come with me, I want to show you the backyard.”

You try not to recoil when he places a hand on your back, gently leading you in the direction of the other side of the room. He opens the sliding doors that lead to extensive green areas, no furniture in sight except for a round wooden table located near the doors, accompanied by two chairs placed in front of the other. There’s a teapot set arranged on top of the ligneous surface, which you look at curiously as you take a seat on one of the chairs. Min Yoongi imitates you, facing you from the other side of the table with seemingly kind eyes.

“You look scared,” he begins, crossing his arms above his chest. “And I perfectly understand. We have quite the past,” he gives you an apologetic smile that softens up his features. “Want some tea?”

You nod, still utterly flabbergasted. He pours the steaming black tea on the two cups, sliding one of them in your direction. For a second you consider not tasting it, suddenly fearing it might not be tea at all, but Yoongi’s stare makes you lift the cup to give it a tentative sip.

“Wow. It’s good.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles again, taking a sip from his own cup. “Prepared it the moment I saw you arriving.”

You continue drinking in silence, trying to push away the awkwardness lingering in the air. Yoongi is blatantly trying to make you feel comfortable, but there’s still an unsettling hunch that does not want to let go, keeping your shoulders stiff as you focus you entire attention on the sweet drink. He clears his throat a few seconds later, making you look up with wide eyes.

“I guess we should just acknowledge the elephant in the room, hmm?” he places his cup on the table, leaning back while giving you a determined stare. “If you don’t want to talk about it yet, just let me know. I can wait.”

“I want to talk about it now,” you reply instantly, straightening your back. He lifts his eyebrows at that, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk.

“Okay. Good,” he nods. “You seem confident about it.”

You can’t help but snort, looking down at the liquid on your cup. “Not really. Just impatient.”

“I understand, that was a long trip,” he looks at the house, and your heart stutters when you realize who he’s thinking about. “Did it go well? With Jungkook, I mean. His system is a bit fried, which made me worry a little.”

You struggle to keep your eyes on him, focusing all your willpower on not looking away. “It did. No problem at all.”

“You must have been surprised when you saw him.”

“You said we were going to acknowledge the elephant in the room, not Jungkook.”

He chuckles at that, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. So—” he sighs, placing his elbows on the table. Connecting his dark eyes with yours again, you can’t help but shiver at how powerful they seem. There is no vulnerability in them — he looks composed, completely at ease, as if he were dining with an old friend. “What I told you in my letter is true. There is no trick. I want to find a middle ground and reach an agreement with you. And I imagine you feel the same, since you came all the way here.”

You nod, heart jumping to your throat. This is it. The weight of your entire spacecraft is unbearable on your shoulders, and you try to push down the sudden surge of emotions rushing through your body.

“I would like an agreement, too,” you reply, struggling to keep your voice from wavering. “And I also imagine you already have something in mind.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “A transaction.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. You blink in confusion, unsuccessfully trying to decipher his words.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me explain,” his stare grows wary then, which turns your blood cold. “You see— I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, even before I became the Leader. Something I found amongst earthlings is their dislike towards how… independent the station seems to be these days. And their frustration is understandable— you do realize that Argent Station originally belonged to Earth, right?”

Even though there is still kindness in his eyes, you hate his leisure way with words, pronouncing each one of them with utter care and a sympathy that clearly underestimates your position. It finally dawns on you: Yoongi is kind because he does not fear you. You are not an equal to him, and you are not powerful. It is not worthwhile to be cautious of someone like you.

The realization makes you seethe, but you manage to keep a straight face. You nod, allowing him to continue with his speech.

“I’m glad you do. It has been almost fifty years since the Independence War ended— you won, and created a nation of your own. I cannot say it was unfair. After all, we attacked at the same time, we practically lost the same amount of lives, and ultimately a treaty was signed. You won fair and square.”

“But?”

“But,” he smiles, taking it even slower, if possible. “Earthlings want the past back. Argent Station might be old now, but it was our pride, and it did slow us down when it came to our technological advances. I believe that if we can get it back, we can restore and improve it in ways you can’t imagine.”

“You want my station,” you state, swallowing. The words feel frightening on your tongue, and this time you do not care that your voice comes out weak.

“I want to reach an agreement,” he corrects, eyes glinting with excitement. “I can’t see it not working out. Your people won’t get kicked out— we can even give them jobs if they don’t have any. New housing, too. Earthlings and outsiders will be able to come and go without a care in the world.”

“There has to be a catch.”

“Yeah, I mean— you will all be working for me,” he leans back, still giving you that self-reliant stare. “You will not be a Commander anymore. What would work best for us is that you stayed on Earth, preferably without going back for a while, as I want earthlings to see you truly committed. Your family still can have some sort of leading role up there, I have no problem with that. It’s you—” he tilts his head slightly, making you shudder noticeably. “Who needs to show her loyalty to Earth. The rest will be easy.”

“Not going back for a while,” you repeat, voice faint. “Can you be more specific?”

“A couple of years, minimum.”

The words are already scrambling up your throat, messy and turbulent, but Yoongi keeps talking as if he hasn’t noticed the troubled look on your face.

“My father suggested something else, and I think it could work,” he takes a long breath, gazing at his hands for a while before looking up. “An alliance between you and me could be appropriate if we want to convince those who might not like the idea so much. People always grow a little softer when love is involved, don’t they?”

A sharp laugh escapes your mouth, shrill and absolutely astounded. “Love?”

“Don’t think about it like that. Consider it as… signing some papers. Formalizing an alliance. We don’t even need to live together, though that would be preferable for appearances.”

“Eight years ago you broke off our alliance and kicked me off Earth,” you state plainly. “Now you want me to stay here forever and marry you. Yoongi, you know how that sounds, right? It’s absolutely—”

“Crazy,” he finishes, nodding. “But it can work. Can’t you see it? No one gets hurt. I believe that’s the most important part.”

“What if I refuse?”

He falls silent at your question. For the first time in the evening, his eyes reveal the keen coldness you always associated with him.  

It disappears just as fast, though.

“You should sleep on it,” he says with a smile, getting up. “You can give me your decision tomorrow. Come on, I’ll show you your room. You must be tired of sleeping in that cramped ship.”

Your mind is strangely quiet as you follow him inside the house and upstairs. The house is not enchanting anymore, but rather claustrophobic with its tapering walls. He stops in front of a room on the second floor, opening the door and gesturing for you to walk inside.

“I believe it’s perfectly provisioned, but if you need anything, just go to the suite in the third floor. I’ll be happy to help.”

You nod, not giving him a second glance as you step inside the vast room. You have not seen one as big in eight years.

“Good night, Yoongi.”

“One last thing,” he says, making you tense up. You do not turn around, facing the room and letting him speak to the back of your head. “About Jungkook… I just want to make sure he didn’t tell you anything too shocking. The poor boy hasn’t gotten fixed yet, and his head is a little… well.”

You turn around at that, heart constricting. Yoongi is still wearing that casual gaze, as if he was not talking about anything of great importance.

“What do you mean?”

He frowns at your sudden interest. “He did say something, did he?”

You cannot hold it back, not this time. “You killed his father.”

He falls silent for a few seconds, lips parted before a sonorous laugh bursts out of him.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at that. His father is dead, after all. But I did not kill him,” he declares, voice clear and unyielding. “I hate to be the one telling you this, but— he did it.”

You stop breathing, unable to process his words. “What?”

“I told you, his system is flawed,” he leans against the doorframe, remorseful expression in place. “We tend to install chips in the brains of our rangers, mainly for their safety. Being part of our armed force can be very mentally draining, so we help them cope,” he explains smoothly, words falling from his lips casually. “But there is something… wrong with his. We haven’t figured it out yet, but he has a surgery scheduled very soon. Meanwhile, he just… loses his mind, sometimes. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Then why did you let him come with me? it makes no sense,” you retort, voice shaky.

“Well, the surgery is… very dangerous, and there is a high chance he won’t make it out alive. If he does, he will probably have to quit the armed force. The poor boy wanted one last task, and I couldn’t deny him. Besides, we do monitor him at all times— had he laid his hands on you, my army would have been there in no time. Do not underestimate our healthy soldiers, they can be quite fast.”

You do not reply — you know you can’t, not even if you wanted to. Your voice is nowhere to be found and Yoongi seems to understand, giving you another gaze full of pity.

“We have a saying here: don’t believe anything a soldier says. Once again, I’m sorry. Sleep well,” he murmurs, finally stepping back and closing the door. Your knees give out the moment you find yourself alone, struggling to take deep breaths as Yoongi’s words swirl around your mind frantically, ransacking any sane thought you might have.

Your blurry gaze slightly clears up when you spot a narrow balcony on the other side, getting up and stumbling towards the sliding doors. You open them and inhale the fresh air, thankful for the boundless scenery of the thick forest, barely stirring under the veil of night. You lean against the railing, swallowing the growing lump in your throat as you try to keep yourself together.

As if it was not enough with Yoongi’s plan, now Jungkook’s face is also swimming in your head, heart tightening and lungs constricting with the pain that comes from the harsh truth. You take a few more deep breaths, but the fresh air is not enough to cleanse your panic-stricken thoughts. You can only try not to scream, holding onto the railing as tightly as the strength in your arms allows you.

A sudden noise makes you perk up, quivering at the thought of facing Min Yoongi again, but his cold, smooth voice never reaches your ears. Someone with a gentler voice is calling your name from the ground, and you immediately look down, freezing when you spot Jungkook frantically waving in your direction.

He gestures for you to go to him, does not stop even when he notices you’re frozen on the spot. You finally decide to nod tightly, forcing your legs to move again as you walk away from the balcony.

You rush downstairs in a daze, heartbeats never slowing down as you get out of the house to find Jungkook standing by the beginning of the forest, just under the balcony of your room. His bionic eye looks striking under the moonlight, and you feel a pang on your chest when he welcomes you with an earnest wave.

“I turned it off again, I have fifteen minutes,” he says quickly, placing his hands on your shoulders. He does not notice you stiffening — or maybe he does, but chooses not to mention it. “Listen, this is extremely important.”

He does not allow you to reply, allowing his words to flow in a fast-paced tone, almost jumbled together.

“I just talked to some friends in the force. Friends I trust,” he begins, voice shaking slightly. “They filled me up in what’s going on back in the capital, and they— they heard some things from our General.”

You swallow thickly, not sure if your feeble heart can handle more of this. “What things?”

“Min Yoongi’s plan. I know all about it,” he says in a low tone, making you stiffen. “Uniting the two worlds, him marrying you, all of it. But it seems like his main plan is not only keeping you here as some sort of token, but also— um. Destroying the station entirely.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. “That’s not— he offered me a deal. He can’t do that if I agree.”

“He can. Apparently, it won’t matter what you decide,” he mutters, looking just as anxious as you probably do. “His plan all along has been to destroy the station. You can’t accept his proposal— if you do, he will place all the guilt on you, and you will have to face Earth’s law. It will be a win-win situation for him. If you reject it… you might have a chance at getting out of there. And I’ll— I’ll help you get everyone out of the station.”

“Stop, Jungkook, stop,” you stagger back, feeling the back of your head pulsing. Your eyes are stinging with unshed tears you cannot allow to let out, not yet. “I don’t know what to think. Just— give me a moment.”

He allows you to breathe for a while. If feels like minutes have passed when he finally speaks up, voice much softer than before.

“He put you against me, didn’t he? He told you lies about me.”

You finally look at him. You swear you can almost see a glint of emotion in his bionic eye, though his human eye says it all — it burns with anguish, features contorted in sheer sadness as he waits for you to reply.

“How can you expect me to— to know who is lying and who is telling the truth?” you swallow, trying to keep your voice from raising as the tears finally fall. “I want to believe you, I really do—”

“But Min Yoongi is too good at it,” Jungkook murmurs, looking away. It takes him a few seconds to reply again, voice strained and eyes not meeting yours. “I’m not going to force you into believing me or what I say. That’s your call.”

“What do you plan to do?” you ask, hugging yourself as a sudden breeze envelops your skin. He finally looks at you, and a hint of determination flares within his dejected look.

“I will prepare for the worst. And I hope you do, too.”

He gives you a curt nod before walking away, leaving you standing by the forest as the winds pick up their pace.

The sudden loneliness is both welcoming and dismaying. You feel smaller than ever, standing between Min Yoongi’s house and the endless forest, both rising high and mighty and just as overwhelming as Yoongi and Jungkook’s searing words. Their voices are screaming in your head, but what’s left of your waning willpower allows you to finally force them down.

Standing in the darkness, you fill your mind with pure silence, looking up at the grey clouds that ensnare the moon within their weightless bodies.

The moon stays hidden that night, as if hiding from the truth herself. And with a future so uncertain, you can only wonder if you will ever see her again.

/

At this point, you firmly believed it was not possible to feel such tension again — but being in the same space as Jungkook and Yoongi quickly changes your mind.

The morning after brought an impassiveness and a strange kind of peace, even if there is still a decision to be made. Yoongi, ever so kind, spared you from the conversation during breakfast, suggesting instead for Jungkook to take you both to the capital in the case that a settlement needs to be signed. You agreed, which led to the three of you sitting together inside the ship as Jungkook drives with his usual inscrutable expression.

Yoongi does not seem that bothered by the obvious rigidity that stalls the air. You wish you could ignore it the way he does, and even though you never express any discontent, you are certain it shows in your body language. You sit behind the passenger’s seat this time — occupied by Yoongi —, which allows you to glance at Jungkook’s profile every now and then, wanting nothing more than to give last night’s conversation some sort of closure.

Even though you cannot see Yoongi, you can tell he seems to find the short trip somewhat relaxing — hums from time to time, shifts and gets comfortable on his seat, makes one or two comments about his surroundings as he remembers the names of the forests and parks you leave behind. It is easy to ignore it, though. Right now, there are more important matters than to seethe over Yoongi’s quiet cheerfulness.

The trip lasts a total of two hours. It is somewhat reassuring to see the capital again — its crowded streets and rows of ships that fly overhead make you feel considerably less alone, a stark difference to the vast solitude of his cottage.

Jungkook parks in a familiar garage after going through several security controls, one that makes your memory spark as you remember impromptu nights where you and Yoongi decided to take his old motorcycle for an aimless ride around the city. You can barely throw one last glance at Jungkook — Yoongi makes sure to monopolize your entire attention, leading you out of the garage and into the magnanimous house you have not visited since you were seventeen years old.

“Please go to the dining room and wait for me there, I’ll bring back the papers that need to be signed. You still remember your way around, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, eyes still roaming around the place. He nods and smiles before walking away, disappearing into one of the countless hallways. You turn around the moment you’re alone, staring in the direction of the garage for a few seconds before sighing and walking towards the dining room, a deep, unsettling feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.

It takes you a few seconds to figure it out, but once you do, your blood turns cold from head to doe.

There is… no one here.

Usually, Min Yoongi’s home was brimming with life thanks to his large staff and bodyguards, whom you were on a first-name basis with and treated your younger self with endearment. Now the house feels almost as solitary as his cottage, and your shoulders are incredibly tense when you enter the dining room, just as noiseless as the rest of the house.

You gaze around, focusing on your hearing and trying to pinpoint any kind of noise to no avail. It feels too stilled, forged, like someone is holding their breath and purposefully staying as silent as they possibly can.

Min Yoongi’s sudden entrance makes you jump. He gives you an apologetic smile, holding a thick folder in his hands as he approaches the large dining table that occupies the middle of the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Let’s sit, shall we?”

He takes a seat on one of the ends of the table, and you take the chair closest to him while glancing at the folder. He opens it to reveal countless documents that he starts piling up on the table, along with a pen that he hands in your direction.

“I thought we came here because we needed a bigger audience,” you state, voice strangely firm as you take the pen from his fingers, brushing them in the process.

He shakes his head, and something in his smile makes your legs itch to get away.

“Nah, I just preferred not to take the papers to my cottage. I have my safe here, after all,” he sighs, elbow leaning against the table as he looks into your eyes. “We don’t need an audience, this is a choice that only belongs to the two of us, no one else.”

“And what do you want me to sign?”

“Well, the treaty we talked about,” his grin grows wider, if possible. The excitement shining in his eyes is eerily real, as if the thought of uniting the two worlds and owning Argent Station makes him feel like a kid in a toy store. “You can give it a read, though it will take you a while. But it basically says that you agree to hand us over your space station. Everything I told you is in there— just adorned and extended for the formalities.”

You nod, heart unusually calm as you skim through the pages quietly. “You were right— I did need to sleep on it. My head is much clearer now.”

“I’m glad. You were quite worked up yesterday, and I can’t blame you.”

The smile you give him is, for the first time, genuine. You remember Hoseok’s words then, which have not left your side ever since you left your home. The knowledge you have on Min Yoongi is what will keep you— and all of us, alive.

You will never forget the look on Min Yoongi’s face when you grab the papers, stack them up, and tear them in half.

“So that’s how it is,” he says, voice darkening and acquiring the tone he probably kept buried under multiple layers of charming smiles and gallant words.

“That’s how it is,” you repeat, leaning back and crossing your arms. “I am dying to know what happens now that something didn’t go your way.”

Meeting his eyes again, there is no trace of that old boy you thought you knew like the palm of your hand. It was not easy to realize it — to let go of the last tendrils of hope that still kept his kindness alive, one that probably was not even there to begin with.

Because Min Yoongi manipulates, and it is not shameful to admit you fell into his trap once. You and countless others have always wanted to see the good in him, after all — and none of you are to blame for that. It does not make you evil. It does not make Earth evil, even if Argent Station likes to believe otherwise.

Just like you, earthlings just fell for the wrong person.

“I bet you are dying to know,” he replies, in an emotionless tone that rivals that of Jungkook’s Ranger voice. “And you probably will.”

Your eyes widen when you feel a sudden sting on the side of your throat. Your gaze turns blurry almost immediately, and you have to hold onto the edge of the table so as not to fall over. It is futile, because your muscles stop working two seconds later, body falling to the ground as you muster all of your remaining strength to look up at Min Yoongi, who is now standing by your weakened figure.

“I’m so glad I decided to put our new invisibility armors to the test today. Seems like they worked.”

“Yes, they did,” a gruff voice says behind you. Yoongi’s smile is the last thing you see before you finally submit to the substance injected into your bloodstream, eyes involuntarily closing as a silent scream dies in your throat.

When you open your eyes again, you are not surprised by your surroundings.

The cell you’re locked in is uncomfortably narrow, not a bed or a chair in sight — just bug ridden, grimy walls and an uneven ground that has not been cleaned in ages. It would be entirely dark if it weren’t for a faint glow that shines in the distance, probably belonging to one single lamp that lights up the entire corridor.

Your first instinct is to approach the barred door, holding onto the bars while straining to look outside. You can feel the panic fizzling like a steaming kettle, reaching past its boiling point as you try to take deep, long breaths. It is not related to your safety whatsoever — you stopped caring about that the moment you decided to reject Yoongi’s proposition — but more towards the fear that comes with not knowing the fate of your station. Being kept in the dark, figuratively and literally, will eventually drive you insane if you do not figure out a way out of here.

You do not know how much time passes, but your mind has not stopped reeling. You manage to find a few small sized rocks amidst the dusty debris of the floor, using them to try and break the lock with brute force, but an eternity later convinces you to switch methods if you do not want to keep smashing the lock for the rest of the day. You spend roughly ten minutes searching for thinner, smaller rocks, trying to polish them against the wall to reach a small enough size to breach into the lock.

Tears are starting to well up in your eyes when you finally manage to insert one of them into the gap, jabbing it with insistent movements until your arms start to give out and your fingers become numb. You stop when the rock drops from your hand, falling onto the other side at an unreachable distance, letting your body slide down as you hold onto the rotting bars again.

For a second, you consider screaming. Maybe it will draw someone’s attention, even if it is out of sheer annoyance. But the moment your lips part and your throat prepares you hear steps, strong and fast-paced, making you shudder as you force yourself not to back away. Getting up, you wait against the bars, heart stuttering as the person gets closer and closer.

He calls your name then, and the relief that floods your body is almost too strong to handle.

“Here! I’m here,” you call out, voice rough and drowsy. An effect of the injection, probably. He finally appears in your vision field, eyes widening when they find yours, and the sight of that bionic eye is as welcoming as it has never been. Jungkook approaches your cell and opens the door with a set of keys, his lips forming a pleased smile when it gives in.

“Be glad they didn’t bother to update their cells. We rarely need to imprison someone these days,” he jabs the door open, creaking and churning as he pushes it away, before embracing you in a tight, slightly distraught hug. He inhales deeply when he pulls back, intently looking into your eyes. “You believed me. Thank you.”

“And you’re going to get killed for this,” you mutter, swallowing. “What are you doing, Jungkook? What is happening? I… I need to—”

“Listen,” he grabs your hand firmly, giving you that intense look he had yesterday night. “It’s a mess out there. An absolute mess. Yoongi just ordered to launch a rocket towards your station. My force is preparing for war, just in case— and people are starting to talk, and there are a few small riots amidst the earthlings who want war, and those who don’t. But—” he swallows, noticing the way your face is paling. “Don’t worry about that, or about me. We just need to worry about the rocket. I… I have a plan.”

You already know you are not going to like it. “Tell me.”

“The missiles we have are not big enough to destroy your station, so the rocket they’re sending is basically one of Yoongi’s ships, which doubles the size of his mansion, if not more. From what I’ve heard, it’s been automatically programmed to be launched against your home, but I think… I think I can change it manually if I get in there, somehow,” he gives you a smile, one you cannot return. “Not gonna lie, there’s a high chance I won’t be able to come back.”

Your breath hitches, eyes closing tightly. “God, Jungkook… you can’t give me a break.”

You both laugh, even if there are tears already escaping your eyes.

“It really hit me, what you told me the other day,” he says, gently and paused, holding onto your hands with a patience that does not match the urgency of the situation. “Someone who is willing to die for the right people… that’s who I want to be.”

“Don’t play heroics,” you sniff, pulling away. “We can find another way out of this.”

“I’m sure we could if we had more time— but the rocket is going to be launched in minutes. I… I have to go. I just came to release you,” he places his hands on your arms, squeezing and looking straight into your eyes. “Get out of here, and find a way to warn your station. Even if I manage to divert the rocket, a war is still coming.”

“Let me go with you,” you reply immediately, averting your gaze. “Let me take you there, at least.”

He seems to consider it for the briefest time, the tickling seconds making him nod rapidly. “Okay. Let’s go.”

It is a blur from there. You both run out of the cells and into what looks like a military base — and you’re thankful for the seemingly tense situation, because no one even gives you a second glance. There are alarms going off in every hallway and people running elsewhere with just as much urgency, and Jungkook’s uniform allows him to blend in as you follow him inside restricted areas.

You gasp when you step into what looks like an underground space garage, scarily similar to that of Argent station. There’s an interminable void in the middle that seems to reach the centre of Earth, filled with countless levitating ships that can only be boarded through fragile looking bridges that connect to their doors.

There’s a particularly big spaceship levitating in the middle, knees almost buckling at its massive, intimidating size. It motors and turbines seem to be steaming already, stirring and hissing and ready to be launched into space.

Jungkook leads you to its corresponding bridge, both running across the metal path and towards the open doors. He abruptly halts the moment he reaches the entrance, turning around with an alarmed gaze. It happens before you can even blink — suddenly he’s lifting his bionic arm, transforming into a large weapon that fires in a faraway direction, causing an explosion near the entrance to the garage. You flinch, eyes widening as you turn back to him.

“My general and his friends were about to ambush us,” he explains, clearly shaken up. “Well, I’m officially a traitor now. I… I should be getting inside.”

“Ten seconds,” you grasp the front of his jacket, fingers delineating the curves of the word Ranger that glints in red. You can barely get the words out, and your limbs are shaking like the trees under an angry storm, but knowing that this might be your last conversation forces your vocal chords to function. “Remember when you said we could have made each other happy? I think so, too.”

You might be in love with him, you might not be; you are not entirely sure — but what you are certain of is that a future with him could have been the brightest. That small but firm knowledge stings the hardest, wreathes and burns your insides as Jungkook embraces you again. And with a messy, hopeless kiss, you finally pull apart.

You are thankful for his unsuspecting mind. Had he realized what you were about to do, you are sure you would have not had enough strength to successfully push him away and enter the ship before he does. The shock slows down his movements and allows you to find the button that locks the doors, eyes wide and frantic staring at you from the other side as he bangs at the transparent doors.

“What are you doing!?” he yells, voice slightly muffled. “Let me in, right now—”

“Survival of the fittest,” you reply, giving him a teary smile. “It is simple, Jungkook. You have more chances of getting out of here alive, and you can help my people win— or at least survive. Help them,” you beg, pursing your lips. “Promise me you will help them.”

He looks absolutely seething now, struggling between being mad and dismayed. “You don’t even know how to pilot this ship—”

“That doesn’t matter. As long as I manage to change the destination, it will be okay.”

The ship stirs, then. You jolt slightly, placing your hands on the door as you look at Jungkook one last time.

“Go.”

Finally, he falls silent — he knows you’re right, and there is no way around it. He adopts a dazed look for a few seconds before nodding, swallowing thickly before he takes a step back. His eyes are pained and glassy, though it might only be a projection of yourself.

He parts his lips to say something — his last words to you, probably —, but the sudden firing of a gun almost grazes him, making him turn around to start firing back. The ship starts moving upwards and you can only stare, wishing you could see his eyes one last time, his gentle smile and comforting gaze instead of a fighter trying to survive.

The ship finally leaves the garage, and you can only smile as you leave Earth, tasting the salt of the tears coating your lips.

Things never turn out the way you want them to, but it feels undoubtedly right this time.

And taking one last deep breath, you run.

/

Jungkook’s arm is burning.

He might have years of experience behind his back, but rarely does he get the chance to use his firing weapons like this — incessantly and wildly, like a hysterical man trying to kill everything on his path.

He does not like to think of himself as a murderer, but when everyone is pointing their guns at him, it is all a matter of who gets out alive.

There are consequences for his actions, and he was never blind to that. There is a reason why the armed force is so committed, even when they do not want to be — he might not have any chips in his brain, but he does have one of the most lethal weapons on Earth covering one of his limbs, tangled with his veins and muscles and becoming an essential part of himself. He also knows that even if his arm is under his control, that can be taken from him in the blink of an eye.

He’s currently standing outside of the military base, leaning against the wall and hiding behind a particularly large cargo van that covers him from curious eyes. Breathing heavily, he has been trying to recover his breath for the last five minutes, chest burning for reasons that might not be entirely related to the exhaustive use of his arm.

Glancing towards the centre of the city, his heart contorts at the sight that has had the city in sheer panic for the last half an hour. Min Yoongi’s house has been torn to shreds, completely hidden from sight under the fire and smoke provoked by the collision of the rocket against said mansion. It is not that far away, and the smell of destruction that reaches Jungkook is too unbearable, extending across the city as if announcing the incoming devastation.

Because it is coming, stronger and faster than ever, especially now that both the Leader and the Commander are gone.

Jungkook looks up at the dusty sky, closing his eyes tightly as they burn with unshed tears. Your raw words still resonate within his drained body, reminding him that he still has one duty, even if the world seems to be falling apart all around him. Help them.

And Jungkook will. Not because it is his obligation as a ranger, but as a human being.

The phone in his back pocket suddenly vibrates, and the faint surprise quickly turns into understanding, swallowing as he picks up the call.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Sir,” Jungkook recognizes the voice as that of the Lieutenant who replaced his late father. “I’m listening.”

“We might be at war now, but we can’t let this slide. You know what happens when someone turns their back on us.”

“I know.”

The man sighs on the other end of the line, as if he wants to be done this conversation as soon as possible. “I already gave the order to release the venom locked in your arm.”

Jungkook snorts, already knowing those words were going to come out of his mouth. “I have three days left to live, then?”

“Three days, soldier. Good luck.”

Jungkook hangs up, almost relieved that call is over with. He did not like stumbling through limbo, lost between life and death, asking no one in particular for the day of his inevitable punishment.

He may be doing the right thing, but that does not excuse turning his back to his partners and brothers. It was a choice he had to make, and he is ready to face the consequences.

He finally feels ready to approach the battle zone. Mere minutes ago he saw the station’s ships landing next to Min Yoongi’s wrecked home, and he can hear the cries and screams of those involved in what seems like a heated, incessant feud. His legs, still strong and standing, take him to the conflict zone in long, rapid strides — and soon enough he has to lift his arm to aim at other Rangers, who do not hesitate to fire in his direction now that they have been warned of his traitor status.

He tries to be cautious as he approaches the outsiders’ ships, firing at earthling soldiers that try to shoot those he wants to defend. He rapidly approaches what looks like the Commander’s ship, what must have been yours but now belongs to your second in hand.

He fires at a couple more earthling soldiers before hiding behind said ship, holding his breath when he feels a gun against his head.

“Are you Jungkook?”

Said Ranger turns in the direction of the stranger, coming face to face with an outsider with sharp gaze and bloodied, torn clothes. Jungkook is not sure if he should nod or not, choosing to stare in the direction of the other boy instead.

“My name is Hoseok. I’m Y/N’s brother,” he continues, voice almost vanishing under the constant firing. “Are you Jungkook?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, breathing sharply at the mention of your name. Hoseok lowers his gun and puts it back in his pocket, wincing in pain. Tainted in blood all over, Jungkook cannot tell where the injury must be.

“Come with me,” Hoseok murmurs, crouching down. Jungkook follows him towards the door that leads inside the ship, fast and silent as you both get inside and Hoseok locks the entrance again. He slowly straightens up, groaning under his breath as he walks towards the main control system, an array of buttons covering a broad surface with a large chair placed in front of it. Above the surface, the large transparent glass allows the terrifying sights of war, blood and murder, making Jungkook tense up.

“I activated the stealth shield, don’t worry. They can’t see what’s inside,” Hoseok mutters, standing in front of a small screen that shines amidst the rows of buttons. “Come here.”

“How do you know who I am?”

Hoseok tilts his head at that, looking at him with saddened eyes. “Y/N called me from the ship she crashed against your leader’s house.”

Jungkook swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “He’s not my leader anymore.”

“She did not do it on purpose, according to her,” Hoseok continues, ignoring Jungkook’s words. “She managed to deactivate the destination, but found herself at a loss when the ship started free falling. Apparently, it was programmed to deactivate in the case someone tried to do something without permission.”

Jungkook nods, fully understanding. It was one of his theories, since he genuinely doubted you crashed against Min Yoongi’s house out of pure spite.

“She was brave,” Jungkook says softly and Hoseok nods, averting his gaze.

“She also told me about you. That you would be coming to help us, and not to kill you on sight.”

“I am here to help,” Jungkook assures him, pushing down his mournful feelings and straightening up. “If you are Commander now, then I follow your orders from now on.”

“Good,” Hoseok says, strangely brightening up. “Because I want you to find my sister.”

The ground tilts under Jungkook’s feet, and he can distantly hear the strong beating of his heart, almost painful against his ribcage. “What?”

“I would do it, but I am wounded. It would be a lost cause were I to find her equally wounded, only for the two of us to die in the middle of nowhere. But you are strong and experienced,” Hoseok’s voice breaks, inhaling deeply. “So I leave that task to you.”

“But she’s—” Jungkook points in the direction of the fire, breaths ragged again. “She’s—”

Hoseok points at the screen he was gazing at before, making Jungkook look at it with shock and wonder. It is a radar system, he realizes, displaying a red dot blinking in a random, faraway location.

“I didn’t let her come to Earth without a tracker of her own,” Hoseok explains, lips twitching with a smile. “We installed it under her skin, where no one else would see it. She… she did not tell me anything, but I believe she managed to find a parachute or an emergency craft, and jumped out of the ship before it crashed,” Hoseok explains, sighing and eyes glossy. “I still have hope that she’s alive. This small, faint light—” he points at the screen, fingers trembling. “Is all I have right now.”

Jungkook finds himself nodding before Hoseok is able to finish his sentence.

“Yes. Yes, I will find her.”

Hoseok stays silent for a few seconds. When he speaks again, his voice wavers and breaks with emotion.

“I need to go help my soldiers. I trust you with her life,” he extends his hand in Jungkook’s direction, who takes it and shakes it firmly. Jungkook feels somewhat connected with this man, wondering if it stems from their equally strong feelings for the same person.

And just before Hoseok leaves the ship, Jungkook speaks, making the other man smile with a warmth he rarely sees in other earthlings.

“She is all I have, too.”

Hoseok nods and opens the door, which closes the moment he steps out. Finding himself completely alone, he only takes five seconds to breathe deeply, shaky fingers grazing the buttons as he sits on the pilot’s seat.

His past training allows him to smoothly maneuver around, turning on the ignition and making the motors vibrate under his feet. He can see the Rangers, his brothers, through the large transparent panels, looking up at the levitating spaceship as Jungkook lifts it from the ground. He can see them dying, one by one, under the weapons of the wounded outsiders that try to stand their ground.

He cannot see this ending well, he knows it won’t — but a small flicker of certainty deep in his chest tells him that maybe this was due all along. Sooner or later, Min Yoongi’s ways were only going to lead to utter destruction.

Looking back, he wonders if he ever stood a chance at stopping him. Maybe, had he used the right words, Min Yoongi could have turned away from his manipulating ways, which consumed him with a fervor that probably blinded him from the magnitude of his own actions.

It is all in the past, though — and just like Hoseok said, all that matters is the blinking light on the radar screen. Jungkook holds onto it as he flies away from the capital, tears streaming down his face as it finally dawns on him that it’s you, somewhere faraway, lost and possibly injured, but alive.

He laughs and cries for what feels like an eternity, gazing at the skies as he sails across the clouds. A feeling he never knew unleashes under his skin, warming up the cold metal of his heavy arm; and for a second, he feels entirely human again.

For the first time, he has hope.

[guardiandae]

OKAY it’s time for that write up about my trip to Boston

aka Why I’m Glad I’m Still Alive and also Dae Makes Bad Life Choices And Needs To Be Grounded :c 

(long, long post)

okay so, my friend H takes a trip down to Boston every year to visit her friend D who goes to college there. She invited me to go a few days beforehand, and as luck would have it I managed to arrange to have Friday & Saturday off work, and Sunday closing shift, so I could make it down there and back.

Of course, I had a runny nose and stuff beforehand... and then the night before (Thursday night, I think) I had a really hard time at work bc I felt feverish... I got home and my temp went up from 99.6 (which is already 100% a fever for me, my temp runs low) to 101.3 during the night. I kept waking up every three hours, and I had to get a bag of ice to press against my head. I went to bed early but slept in longer than I expected so I got like 13 hours of sleep and felt a lot better in the morning, aside from a sore throat. Actually, my throat does this fun thing where from time to time, it will close up on me and I can’t breathe. It can happen even from drinking water. So I took cough syrup and my throat closed up. Yikes. No more cough syrup for me, just cold & flu tablets! I can’t remember the other incident, maybe I drank something harsh, but I remember it did that twice, two times in two days. So, yeah. Gotta be careful what I drink with this sore throat.

Friend wants me to spend Friday night at her house so we can leave at 3am Saturday. So I go to H’s house, with her boyfriend T. My throat is like, raw as fuck. We hang out, they pack, and we all take a nap before we leave. I get like another 3 hours of sleep, then we all get up and hit the road.

We pick up T’s friend, S.  My friend H keeps trying to hook me up with S despite the fact that I am 1. gay 2. asexual 3. not interested in douchebags. And she’s been teasing me about the fact that, S and I will have to share a bed at the hotel. My god. Mind you, the plan she has in Boston is to take me to a strip club and I’m like, sdgkdfkgjd. No? Maybe. No.

We stop at a gas station and I get myself a big powerade for my RAW AS FUCK throat. Swallowing is seriously painful at this point. My friend swaps seats to sit beside me in the back, so now T and S are in the front. THEY FUCKING START CHAINSMOKING ALL THE WAY DOWN. So they have their windows cracked, freezing cold air pouring in, secondhand smoke making my eyes water and lungs burn, all the way down. Maybe at most they would stop for two minutes and then, boom, another FUCKING cigarette. On top of that, they listened to really gross rap music on the way down, like violent, sexually-explicit, drug-endorsing songs that were just honestly annoying lyrics aside, total crap, lol.

My friend and I show each other memes (she pronounces it me-me and I think it’s too funny to correct her) all the way down. We arrive at her friend D’s campus at about 6am. He has keys to all the buildings and has to make rounds, so we’re going to walk with him all across his campus.

D is a really interesting dude. My friend H told me, “he’s a bible-thumper” beforehand and I was like, eh. great. But he’s this 40-ish year old guy going to a religious college studying to be a minister. He’s super friendly and considerate as soon as we meet him. It’s 6am in January, fairly warm considering the time of year, but I’m still in just my hoodie and SICK, so while I was kind of excited for the experience, my body is so not. We’re going from building to building, up flights of stairs and back down again, and I am wheezing. My voice is pretty rough at this point too.

But let’s talk about the school, and the setting, because... I love it.

In Maine (my state) the trees here are mostly pines, maples, oaks, etc.

But in Boston, I’m not sure what kind of trees they might be, but my gosh. It’s a grey, chilly day (my favorite weather 100% honestly, too bad I was sick) and the trees are bare. Their branches are all twisted in different directions, like the fingers on an old man. Ever seen those kind of forests from creepy horror movies? They are just like that and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Most of the buildings on campus are very old, so some of them still have old fashioned latches, like the thumb-latches in my grandfather’s house.

The other thing I really loved about the campus, is that the students attending are actually very liberal and diverse, despite the religious focus. As D put it later, the other three people in our group, H, T, and S, doubled the population of straight (and cis) students by being on campus. Haha.

Anyway, I survive running around campus, and then we head down to catch the Green Line subway into town. At this point, I really wish I had realized we were going to be gone from the car for several hours, because I would've at least grabbed my hat. :c

This is the first time I've ever been on anything like a subway and I'm so glad that we had D with us to be our guide, because it was so confusing. The car was packed with people because of the Women's March going on. I don't know how this compares to other subways, but this went pretty fast and had a lot of hills and turns, and with every change in momentum I'm hanging onto the rail for dear fucking life trying not to fall over. My friend H has a lot of anxiety, especially around crowds of people, and riding this subway itself, so she is SHAKING and trying really hard to just hold on and get through the ride, and so am I. We get off a big station and decide to go up and walk the rest of the way instead of waiting for the next car, because my friend and I are curious to see the march going on.

We ended up walking around a lottt down all of these different side streets. H, T and S wanted to find a big tall building to go all the way to the top floor and take pictures, so we kept trying to enter different buildings at random, and most of them were locked and one we were politely told to leave, lol.

The whole walking around event was kind of more random than planned... we ended up at Bruins arena which I think was my friend's only actual goal, so she could buy her brother a gift. We saw tons of protesters everywhere and I got one of the pink hats from a nice lady who brought extras. But after that, our wandering was pretty aimless. We headed towards Boston market (still trying to find tall buildings) and accidentally stumbled onto the Holocaust memorial.

H and I were like 'oh... damn' and of course, I had to go in. The memorial consists of four towers made of panes of glass, with steam inside rising up. When I walked into the first one, the panes of glass had quotes from survivors of the Holocaust written on both sides in side, and on every single pane of glass, going up to the sky, there were the serial numbers the nazis tattooed onto people. I took a few pictures, but once I entered that first tower I put my phone away because it just didn't feel right. We walked through and read each quote... I was trying not to cry because the two guys with us (D excluded) were pretty douchey and I wasn't sure they even would, y'know, care. But when I read one of the quotes about the homosexuals being put into the death camps, I definitely cried and I was like, yeah. This is why we fight. This is why we can't stop fighting.

When we left, H was pretty shaken too (the quotes about children were the ones that got to her the most, I think) and D suggested that we head to the farmer's market to try to lighten up the mood. While we were walking there, S decides to ask a question, in a suspiciously condescending tone of voice, "I wonder what the founding fathers would think about all of this."

The rest of us were like, ???  "Think about what?"

S: "You know, the protests that are going on right now."

Guys, my voice was half gone but you know I clapped back.

"They'd probably think that they're exercising their CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS??? What do you think the founding fathers did against the British???"

Then he said something about how, people keep pushing and pushing for more rights, and he thinks that's a bad thing because it just ends up dividing people into more and more different groups and takes away rights from others. At this point I was like, HOLY SHIT, this fucking white boy is one of those people who thinks that EQUAL RIGHTS means his rights are somehow being TAKEN AWAY from HIM. Like, you DO realize that my great-great grandmother and your great-great grandmother didn't have the fucking right to vote??? and in MY lifetime, I had to go fucking vote on my  right to get MARRIED??? It didn't take away SHIT from poor helpless straight white men, it just GAVE more people the SAME FUCKING RIGHTS. HOLY FUCK.

So anyway we headed on to the market area, checked out the Newbury Comics store and I was exciiited bc I found a cute pair of knee-high socks to buy (my new aesthetic). But while in pursuit of my knee-highs, I wandered too close to the Dick's bar, and at this point everyone was ready to drink/eat and had been searching for a bar for a while. There were sooo many to choose from, including really nice looking Irish bars, and historic old bars, which I actually wanted to check out. But which bar did we go to? The fucking cock-themed bar.

They ordered drinks. I just sat by them kind of uncomfortably bc everything is not only "I love dicks" but the mascot is a sleezy overweight balding man and the waitress makes fart jokes. Like. For real. But I'm watching the tv, making small talk with D (who is awesome) and H, while S and T get drinks and fries. Some guy brings his CHILD into this establishment, and is apparently very familiar with their theme bc he plays right along with the waitress's fart jokes like he sees her every Saturday or something. What the hell. Then the party at the opposite end starts putting on these huge condom hats made out of white paper. I can hear a child crying on the other side, maybe the same kid. Why the fuck. And then the waitress starts kind of badgering ME now, like, "Why are you just sitting there without a drink?" I tell her, in my really hoarse voice, "If I have any alcohol I'm pretty sure I will stop breathing" and she's just like "Well it's not like you can't have a water or a juice"  (me: where the fuck is there water or juice advertised ANYWHERE on this shitty menu??? also the food was ridiculously overpriced otherwise I would've been happy to order >_< )  and then I look over and realize that, S has already had two beers, but he JUST ordered a fucking THIRD. Now I'm angry and I tell my friend I don't wanna sit in this (shitty) bar all day, so I'm going to head to the comic store again.

Comic store is right across the street.... but... I'm legitimately pissed off right now, so as soon as I step outside I'm like, actually, lol, fuck off, bye, I'm gone.

And I just keep walking, back the way we came in. I sit down at a bench for a while, half thinking that D or H had followed me, but nobody had. So I'm like, cool, and contemplating actually buying a train ticket home if I had to. But I'm sick as fuck and my legs are killing me and my lungs are wheezing and it's cold and I know that no train goes all the fucking way home, so I'm like, :)))

I decided to go and see something that *I* wanted to see so I looked at my phone and saw the Samuel Adams statue was nearby. They texted me "where are you" and I told them Sam Adams (of course, knowing them they probably looked for a damn bar). But I got lost getting to the statue, lmao, bc it was RIGHT BESIDE ME and I was expecting something larger and headed towards a crowd of people instead. By the time I circled back, I hung up on like three phone calls and ignored several texts, just texted back again "sam adams" when they asked where I was. Took a picture of the statue, then sat down again and waited. Still more texts and calls to not respond to. Finally I was really annoyed but got up to go back to the bar and was thinking, if they aren't here, I'm fucking off again, lol. But they were there and ... my friend H was in tears.

Uh oh. Nice going, Dae.

I put my frustration aside and just fell back into step... she didn't talk to me for a little while. I felt like such an asshole. It was only later I saw some texts that hadn't come through then... half of them already had their phones dead, the others were almost dead, and they'd texted me that they were going to head to the car without me and pick me up in a couple hours. Of courese, my phone was low battery too. I almost fucking stranded myself in Boston, extremely sick, with no cellphone, please ground me.

We went back to the subway (there was another station right near to us, thankfully, so no long walk), and rode all the way back to our original station. Then we had to trek back UP the hill we came down from the campus... I was wheezing hard.

Everyone crashed in D's room for a while. I collapsed on the couch and they all went into the bathroom to smoke pot. I considered leaving to the car to get my phone charger but was like, if I do they'll probably think I bailed again. and then I could literally hear them talking about me, and S saying, "I bet when we come out, she'll be gone again" and I just... felt so angry at him but also like such an asshole bc I'm sick and having a miserable time when I WANT to have fun but instead I'm being a bitch and I can't help it. And they want to drink and get high and I don't like either of those things even when I'm NOT sick as a dog and barely able to breathe, so fuck no I'm not doing that, thanks.

I think after that we finally went to our hotel bc it was check in time (3pm). My friend had reserved the room but they wouldn't let her pay because her card didn't have her name on it, and the others only had cash, so I stepped up to put the room on my card. It made me feel better about being there at all, because they literally wouldn't have had a place to stay (this was a fairly long drive away from Boston).

We went out to eat and this is where S shows once again how much of an asshole he is...

I'm not sure WHERE this came from, but out of the blue while we're sitting in this restaurant, S says something like, "If a drunk girl tells me to fuck her and then she passes out, I can tap that without getting in trouble."

Yeah... I'm positive I didn't remember that right but the statement he made didn't make ANY sense.

All four of us (D, H, T, and myself) were like, ???? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. That is RAPE.

D and I start trying to explain, for one, UNCONSCIOUS = no, and two, in this hypothetical she gave her "consent" while drunk, and you cannot legally consent while drunk!

"But what if we're both drunk"

We're trying to explain that technically neither could consent, it's a risky situation, and then he goes,

"So what if my ex texts me and says 'come tie me up and have your way with me'."

D is like, "I can't even begin with how many variables there are in that situation."

Me: "It depends. Is she sober? Is it actually HER texting? Is she going to say no when you get there?"

S: "She'd have to prove that it wasn't her texting..."

We kept talking about this and trying to explain like, the limits of consent and finally T is like, "Why are we talking about this?"

D and I: "Because it came up and it's worth talking about! There are a lot of people who don't understand."

But anyway, we pretty quickly dropped the topic, but I cannot get over the fact that S randomly said that he'd fuck an unconscious woman. And I am expected to share a bed with him at the hotel.

I was super super pissed with S at this point like, this actual FUCKBOY, first he thinks that equal rights means his rights get taken away, now he's stated that he'd rape somebody?? like?? get the fuck away from me, permanently.

We had to drive D back to his room and it's dark outside now.

I haven't yet mentioned, but as beautiful as Boston is to walk around, the roads are crazy and driving is a fucking nightmare. There are some normal streets but almost everything connects directly onto a highway (at least where we were... and I'm not sure if highway is the right word bc fuck if I know anything about driving but they are SCARY multi-lane roads). The highways are like 4, 3, or 5 fucking lanes of people driving like there's no speed limit, cars constantly switching lanes and assholes flying past us.

All of that is scary enough, but worse is that:

- T is the one driving, because H is too scared to drive in Boston traffic. - T does not have a license. - The car's left blinker doesn't fucking work, so switching lanes to the left is a deathwish. - Did I mention the drinking and getting high? Yeah. - Also, the chainsmoking resumes and I am in fucking misery.

We manage to drop D off, and they had mentioned the fact that they HAVE the lightbulb for the back blinker, but didn't take the time to install is before leaving. D had mentioned that he could probably do it. So I'm like, hey, how about we do that?  D takes a look and realizes that it'd take some time to take apart, but he'd be able to do it with some assistance. T is like, nah it'd take some work, and I'm disheartened (bc I want this car to be as legal as fucking possible bc if we get pulled over I'm 100% sure that I'm fucked on getting home, best case scenario. Worst case scenario, I might charged with something just for being with these guys. Idk if that's even rational but honestly.) but they agree to just deal with it later.

We get back to the hotel and H and I decide to go swimming in the pool. It's honestly one of the highlights of the trip for me bc I rarely get to go swimming, so we enjoyed ourselves for a while, talking about how T and S were kind of annoying both of us. The guys were getting alcohol and stuff while we swam, and they drank some and then joined us. It was kind of funny bc H had worn her bikini bottom but also swim trunks over them, and S didn't have anything to wear to swim in, so she gave him her trunks. They fit him so tightly lmaoo. The guys were splashing around, goofing off, and at this point I'm less angry and more just like, letting it all go, I know I don't like S whatsoever, he's fucking dumb, but I don't want to be hostile and I'm trying as much as possible to not be a huge bitch and a wet blanket, so it's whatever. We joked around a lot, and had fun, and finally got out of the pool when it was closing. But it was really awkward bc they had to go to change and T had gone into the women's room with H so I had to stand outside and wait to change my clothes... and I could hear H yelling at him about... peeing wildly everywhere? Oh my god. I don't even wanna know. It was one of those moments where I was like, there is nudity beyond both of these doors and I am probably forever going to be not comfortable with that. It's kind of a bizarre and shitty realization that everyone else is on a different plane of existence. Like, I'm the weird one because I don't wanna see dicks flopping around. Huh.

Rinsed off, changed clothes, went back upstairs, blow dried my hair and flopped onto the bed. At this point, I'm physically worn down but.... not.... tired. So I'm not sure if I'm going to fall asleep. But they want to run around, and ask about the strip club plans, and my friend is like, "Dae said she didn't want to go" (which is true, I told her no because I'm very sick and felt uncomfortable about the whole idea anyway) but the guys are like, "You're killing us, we're not going?" and she's like, "Are we?" and I'm so sick and tired at this point that I'm like, "Actually yeah let's go" and get up and get dressed again, ready to impress, ready to jump in and see some ladies and titties and see how uncomfortable I feel about it all.

We get into the car, and all of us have been trying to see what the nearest strip club is... there really isn't one. What the nearest bar is... eh. We're trying to find something really close by, because the guys have been drinking and T has no LICENSE and the car blinker is broken so instead I'm like, "Where's the nearest Walmart?"  over 100 miles away jfc. "Where's the nearest target?" Less than a mile away. Awesome! My mood is UP bc we're going to Target, now this is my idea of a good time.

Yeah, no. My phone is a piece of SHIT and they refuse to even look at it, but their phone won't update fast enough while we're driving and we CAN'T FUCKING MERGE LEFT because we'll be killed in this traffic, so we have to go to the right. We see other stores and want to go to them, but the problem is, when we turned right we already missed that opportunity. And this road merges directly into a fucking interstate. And we cannot turn off of it. And now we are going 80 mph in the wrong direction and have to take the next off ramp.

For the next fucking 30 minutes at least, we are desperately trying to get our fucking phones to tell us where we are and where we need to go. Everything loops in circles, because of the highways and off ramps. We keep missing fucking turns and ending up in even more of a tangled mess. Our phones did not charge up much at the hotel and are on the verge of dying once again and we cannot fucking turn LEFT. T and S are getting frustrated, I'm convinced I'm going to fucking die, and H is having an anxiety attack, texting me like, "This is my car and if we crash everyone is going to get hurt and it's my fault" and I'm like... can we please fucking stop somewhere and just fix the fucking light.

By the time we finally make it back to where we belong, we just go straight to the hotel. So fucking much for strip clubs, or bars, or even Target. Fuck that noise. We aren't driving anywhere after all, we all agree on that and we're all really frustrated and stressed.

I ask again like, even if it takes a while we should really fix the light bc driving down to Mass we had the same problem, and we're going to keep having that problem until we fix it, but the guys are like, we'd have to take apart the whole back end, if it were a quick fix we'd have done it already. In the daylight it'll be okay, it's really just at night that's the worst because all they see is our tail lights, and a lack of left blinker means someone might get killed. So I'm like, alright and let it go.

We get snacks from the vending machines, and crash in the hotel room again. Despite all the hyped talk from the guys about drinking and drugs (seriously, S was like, "Let's go  get some ecstacy or heroin" before we left on that horrific ride, and H was like "UHHHH NO, NOT HAPPENING."  He also talked about forcing girls to choke on his dick, so if anyone was wondering if he learned anything from the Consent Discussion, the answer is, probably no. And people wonder why I have sex anxiety jfc.)

Thankfully, I crashed on one bed, and H, T, and S all crashed on the other bed... probably bc they didn't want to catch my germs tbh. I heard S saying "bacterial pneumonia" to his phone.

Sleep was... hellish. I woke up at 4am, SHAKING uncontrollably and had to turn up the heat for a while. I think I was running a fever so it didn't help me at all.. after that I had to press a cold drink against my forehead and didn't fall asleep again until 6am, and we all get up around 8:50am.

Btw, the hotel was pretty shitty... a bunch of ants were under my shoes at the indoor pool when I picked my shoes up... they were coming up from the vents because I guess I stepped in something sugary. H freaked out a bit. Then in our 3rd floor room, there was another of those ants on my pillow. Nice. The breakfast service was shitty. The only edible thing for me was the apple juice, the rest of it was awful cheap stuff. We went to burger king instead, which H had wanted for breakfast anyway. My voice was nearly gone at this point and I had to type my order onto my phone and let the cashier read it. The burger king was also super shitty lmao it was under construction but the bathrooms were just, awful and unkept. We realized we had to head straight home now in order to get back in time for everything H and I had to do, so we got straight onto the highway.

Once again... terrifying traffic, and the difficulty of merging to the left. Every time T had to merge, I had to close my eyes and post facebook statuses like "pray for me because I am going to die." At this point, T and S are like, "We should've just fixed the light before we left" and I am like, internally fucking screaming BECAUSE I SAID THAT ALREADY OH MY GOD. Also, CUE THE CHAINSMOKING AGAIN.

I got dropped off directly at my work a couple hours before my shift, and then worked my closing shift.

Remember, at this point I've had very little sleep and fevers every night since Friday... my voice is just a whisper, I spent hours walking around Boston, hours awake at night, I should be exhausted but I am wide the fuck awake. By the time I finally got home, I still didn't even fall asleep until almost 2am.

So yeah.... I'm not even sure how to summarize my trip to Boston and how it made me feel. Everything was really random and accidental. It took a long time for it to occur to me, holy shit I am in BOSTON, historic Boston, and should be taking pictures and seeing the Freedom Trail and actually interesting stuff like that, but it didn't seem to occur to any of us until the day we had to go back and H wwas like, "I wish I'd taken more pictures."  I wish I had too, especially of the march, but since I ws sick before I even left, I actually wasn't even aware that the marches were going on, I was completely out of the loop. It's something I was super excited about and would've never been able to go to normally, but somehow I accidentally happened to end up there at the right time.

In all it was, frustrating, miserable, beautiful, surprisingly nice and diverse, historic, terrifying, stupid, and extremely lucky. Lucky that we managed to arrange the trip on short notice, lucky that we didn't die on the way down, lucky that I happened to be there for a huge protest event that I was able to partake in at least a tiny bit, lucky that I didn't have to go to the strip club after all, lucky that we didn't get arrested, lucky that we made it back safely, lucky that I didn't chop S's dick off and shove it down his throat. I think I might've used up all of the luck for the next ten years, and I'm a bit frightened.

For those keeping score at home, 

Reasons Why Dae Needs to be Grounded:

- going on a trip with sketchy drug dealing wannabe-gangsters who are racist, transphobic, homophobic, misogynistic dumbasses - going on this trip while extremely sick - ditching my friend and the group while extremely sick, in a strange city, with all of our cell phones dying, and ignoring their calls - swimming in the pool while extremely sick (I broke the pool rules whoops) - getting BACK into the defective car with a driver who had been drinking and has no license, at night - going to work directly after this trip, while extremely sick - still trying to talk while my voice is 99% gone - not cleaning my room (it’s so messy help) - staying up late at night to type this instead of sleeping

and now my throat feels much better but I’ve 100% lost my voice and can only communicate through strained whispers and interpretive dance.

but I have tomorrow off and I plan to finally.... rest. 

assuming that I can even fall asleep.