#fun fact !!!!! I am a monster artist first everything else second

[foodlesoodlesdoodles]

DOODLEDUMP

[0poole]

I LOVE No Straight Roads

Honestly it’s hard to keep me away from a game with great visuals and even greater character design. I knew from the INSTANT I saw these characters that I was going to love it. I just finished it because it’s (unfortunately) pretty short, and even though I cheesed the final boss through it’s very lenient death mechanics (Instant respawn at the cost of a good rank) I actually appreciated that it wasn’t a pure cake walk. I’ve yet to rematch all of the bosses, but since I had genuine trouble with the later ones I’ll hold off on that.

But who cares about gameplay, am I right? I sure as hell don’t. I would’ve bought the game no matter what the hell it was. I wanted the characters (and the music, although I realized that second) and that was it. 

First of all, I love any world that is super fantastical but cheesy in its concept, ala a city powered by music, and battles between artists using music. Ideas like this only spawn from a mind that wants to create a fun atmosphere, if nothing else, and it was sure as hell fun. I genuinely love when someone goes so far into a crazy idea and doesn’t waste your time explaining it with real world logic. Wanna know how a city can be powered by music? Shut up and look at the cute virtual mermaid. Lord knows I did. Every once in a while, it does you good to just let the player/reader/viewer just revel in the idea without having to go out of your way to make things seem realistic. It’s not about “turning your brain off” or whatever, it’s picking your battles.

Also, I can seriously love a world with great background characters to it. Any game with the right situation to insert the random nobodies you find onto the streets into the art in the credits really played into the greatness of the world’s less important characters, and that’s always a good thing. It’s technically world building. But, since I always love to pick favorites, I’d have to say my favorite background character is easily Mia, the NSR infodesk assistant. It’s funny, because you can literally search “nsr characters” into Google and she’s the third image result. I love how jumpy she is when you first interact with her, since NSR probably spread the word about B2J suggesting they’re rock thugs who’d beat up anyone, so for all she knows she could die right then and there with a guitar lodged in her skull. She’s probably just some intern trying to pay for college. She don’t want trouble.

Also, I just realized that 90% of the characters in this game have the same body structure that I always love, that being having arms/legs that sort of fan out in width into relatively large hands/feet. It’s a kind of limb structure I fall into so much because it just really hits me right for some reason. I really can’t explain why.

Anyways, I gotta talk about the big boys individually:

Mayday and Zuke are an amazing duo. I’m always a sucker for a cute and crazy girl, but honestly Zuke hit so many of the right notes too. I will say it’s weird to pair the martian Zuke with the humanly-skinned Mayday, but honestly it doesn’t even matter because he looks so cool on his own. I love his weird blocky blue dreadlocks, and his weirdly shaped shirt which bares his chest in the weirdest way... And, oh my god, Mayday’s weird Spongebob background flower eyes? It’s little tidbits like that that really make me jealous. How could I have ever thought of that? It looks so perfect, and I don’t know why. And her little booty jig she does in her idle animation? Adorable. I played as her as much as was reasonable not only because I’m a filthy button masher with little strategy but also because she’s so damn cute. I can also appreciate how she has a tough-as-nails persona while still keeping a semi-girly attitude, like with her falling for 1010 and Sayu. Characters are so much better when they’re a perfect blend of characteristics, instead of being all one-note, like how Zuke is the quiet one but gets heated against DK West, and all. 

Honestly the voice acting for every character is great, but I love when Mayday’s VA’s accent shows through. It’s a perfect twang to accent (consider this the only acknowledgement of a pun in this post) her snarkiness. 

DJ Subatomic Supernova was going to be an easy favorite since he’s all space-themed. Also, I don’t know why I always end up liking the egotistic characters. Not in the sense that I like their egotistic-ness, but in the sense that I like everything else about them and they just so happen to also be egotistic. The same applied with Empoleon (maybe like my 2nd favorite Pokemon) and Rarity from MLP, probably among others. Either way, I’ll never not love space themes. Not to mention he’s got a funky disco theme, and I’m slowly starting to realize that I am in extreme love with techno-funk styles of music. The instant I heard his music he cemented his place into my playlists. 

As for design, I still have no idea what the fuck he is. Clearly AI is at human levels in this world, but if he’s a robot why does he still have hairy legs? But, if he’s a human, is that weird orb his head? Is it just some sort of puppet which he controls from inside his giant jacket? I know I dissed explaining things realistically but I actually want to know with this guy. Even the wiki doesn’t say. Either way, he’s clearly the logical extreme of “being at the center of your own universe.” Even his jacket depicts a solar system, with his hood being the sun. Didn’t see that until I tried to draw him. I really wish this guy wasn’t so tied to his DJ stand so I could reasonably draw him without it. I don’t want to draw his hairy ass legs. It is a great touch for his design though (although I prefer his beta look with pants and long boots, another design trait I tend to gravitate to) since DJs could reasonably not wear pants, since they’re always behind a table.

Sayu is my favorite. It’s so plainly obvious. It’s weird to say that sometimes, because some characters like Sayu are so clearly engineered to be as adorable as possible, to the point where they’re basically a parody of whatever they’re supposed to be emulating, but then they do that so well that they are still likable for what they’re trying to parody. Also, even though I’ve never looked into any vocaloid superstars myself, the fact that they exist and are loved in real life is absolutely perfect to be used as a character design in a world like this. It’s so weird conceptually, but we all know it’s normal and realistic. But yeah, she’s a giga-cutie whom I’ve already drawn and I’ve listened to her theme on loop on many different occasions. Favorite character, favorite track, favorite weapon of choice (What did I say about Empoleon?), which, and I wouldn’t have noticed this myself, looks like the USB symbol you see above USB ports on computers. How crazy perfect is that?

Even apart from my unbridled love for cute monster robot(?) girls, her boss fight is probably the 2nd greatest of them all, at least conceptually. She’s just a hologram, so you can’t touch her, but you CAN disconnect the artists which control her in order to defeat her. It’s the kind of concept for a boss fight that could only work for this type of character. I’m a sucker for the cute girl that provides her voice, but I love how the animator (video editor? the yellow one) actually attacks you with a mouse and lowers the brightness of the setting once he appears. Also, the mocap guy being the deeply-voiced type but still providing the adorable movements of her body. It’s such a great combo of characters, and their little extra art in the credits makes me like them even more. I just wish we could interact with them individually.

DK West was probably one of the most interesting characters visually, especially since I knew of every other NSR member long before the game came out, but I only just heard of him closer to the release. I wasn’t sure where he was placed, but I definitely assumed his gig was the weird shadow demon we saw in the trailers. When I finally saw him in game, I was shocked to hear him speak an entirely different language most of the time, which was really cool. Also, finding out he was tied to Zuke and wasn’t strictly an NSR artist really made him more interesting. You know, if his fucking shadow clone magic didn’t make him crazy cool enough. Even though I suck at his game and am not especially fond of his raps, the visual of him rapping with this giant monster behind him and dozens of weird shadow wingmen by his side hyping him up was probably one of the coolest in the entire game. The dark way they were hyping him up too gave such a bizarre atmosphere, especially since it parallels his seemingly chill and smiley demeanor. 

I definitely hope they’ll introduce new bosses as DLC in the future, and make them sort of in the same vein as DK West, where they aren’t the biggest artists ever, but they want to pick a fight with B2J. I’d kill for any extra content this game can provide.

Yinu is obviously special since she was the subject of the demo they put out for the game. Even though I knew all her bells and whistles, she and her mom still beat me a few times in the full game. Considering she’s semi-tied to story-ish spoilers I kinda want to go more into her in a separate section. It is worth considering playing the game first since it’s not hard (with the easy going deaths) and it’s short length.

1010 seriously grew on me as I learned more about them and interacted with them. I got their shtick when I first looked at them, but after seeing that animation of them touring the city on Youtube I was kinda falling for them. Then, I learned that they’re apparently repurposed navy war robots? I mean, maybe not them specifically, but it seems to heavily point in that direction, with the warship cars and “attention!”s and all. It took me a bit to get into their music too, but once I actually fought them and put their actions to the music I fell in love with it. I swear, Neon J’s weird dancing can has some of the smoothest moves in all of gaming. I don’t know whether they mocapped out those movements or got one of the greatest animators ever, but it looks so impossibly clean his part of the song gets me like 30x more hype than it would normally. 

Also, their little art piece of them looking at fan mail in the credits is probably one of the most adorable things ever. Even if they’re just Neon J’s puppets, that piece of art really makes it seem like they love every one of their fans. I’m not gonna lie, I might swoon a bit too if they picked me out and gave me some special attention.

Oh yeah, and the fact that Mayday was super sad in her showstopper against them was adorable and hilarious at the same time. The little tweaks they made to the showstopper for each fight were great.

Eve just has to be Lady Gaga, right? Like, an even crazier Lady Gaga. DJSS is Daft Punk (or any artist with a helmet persona, you know what I’m talking about), Sayu is Hatsune Miku, DK West is Kanye West, Yinu is a generic child protege, 1010 is a KPop boyband (just pick one) and Eve is Lady Gaga. That’s just how things are. But, again, this is the kind of boss fight that only this type of character could provide. It’s not just surreal imagery, it’s ARTISTIC surreal imagery. The fight is so mesmerizing in every way, especially by how it starts off so slow and calm and progresses to insanity, as well as the increased emotional investment in the fight making you feel so much more into it than just “That’s the boy band. Let’s fight.” Not only does it get you more invested, but it makes her artistic persona go deeper than just “she looks weird.” She is genuinely conflicted about her relationship with Zuke, and naturally that leads her to literally split him and Mayday apart. That mechanic specifically was the coolest, although I do wish they made it more obvious when you needed to switch over to a different side. I was getting pulverized by her fight too, since there were so many things to pay attention to. Her fight was definitely the best one. 

Tatiana and Spoilers:

Let’s be real with ourselves, the twist was so obvious. I do also think, though, that obvious twists aren’t bad if they’re just good reveals. At some point, a person just has experienced so many stories that “only pretty good” twists are easy to spot. It doesn’t mean that the twists are bad, it just means you yourself experienced.

I feel like her transition from rock to EDM was pretty understandable, even as a non-musician. She was so caught up in what she assumed was popular that it basically consumed her. It’s easy as an artist to want to forgo what you truly want to make in favor of what makes you popular, and clearly since her transition to EDM made her the CEO of the biggest company in the city (world?) that probably made her think she truly needed to change her outlook. Then, when she saw B2J try to bring it back, she sort of coined them as being as misguided as she was and knocked them down a peg. Plus, they were kinda being jerks about it.

It’s kinda like the Trolls sequel, where everyone pegs rock music fanatics as being too stuck up in their own heads to appreciate other types of music, which honestly seems more like the case than the alternative. When I first heard of the story of the game, I was seriously hoping they did put an asterisk on B2J’s ambitions because they were a bit sketchy from the start. 

That’s kinda where I want to talk about Yinu, because she was the true turning point in what they were doing. She’s literally 9 and yet she’s getting dragged into all this BS. When she said “I hate you all” at the end of her fight, and played a somber tune on her broken piano after the fight destroyed it, you kinda got a kick in the face to realize you’re kinda being an asshole to some of them. Sure, they fight back, but they wouldn’t fight in the first place if they didn’t have to. They are just people who play music under a joint name that B2J just so happened to get in hot water with. 

Then, of course, there’s Kliff, who also reeked of surprise villain, and who’s basically the embodiment of the bad side of B2J, where he just wanted to destroy for his own sake and not for the actual greater good. Once B2J realized their mistake, they backed off, but Kliff was so hard pressed to do what he planned on in the first place he wouldn’t stop. I kinda wish he got a bigger fight to his own since he’s clearly a big enough tech genius to divert a whole satellite into one specific building. Maybe the Elliecopter chase bit was his thing, but I do kind of wish he was there to fight against them too.

Even though Tatiana did kind of reform a bit quick, It’s still not too crazy to assume she could see that B2J was just misguided and the fact that they worked to revert their wrongdoings for her sake would make a pretty strong impressions. They clearly can hold their own, so it’s not like she wouldn’t want them to join NSR too. 

Oh yeah, and her boss fight was clock/time themed. If there’s a theme under space that I love, it’s clocks/time. 

And If I am to be respected by the internet, I must provide a negative opinion to balance out my positive one. I will say that the character model physics (like Mayday’s braids, DK West’s vest thing, Neon J’s fluffy neck thing, etc) got kinda funky at times. Especially DK West’s vest, which was completely messed up for every scene he was in... Also, even though the voices are mostly great, some lines felt a bit off. Just a bit. That good enough? Good.

But yeah anyway that’s another favorite game to add to the pile. Eventually I’m gonna have to compile a true list of my all-time favorite games/movies because I do kind of want to have a solid idea of what my all-time favorites are.

[linkspooky]

Series I’m Reading in 2021

My favorite manga all come from Shonen Jump. A lot of series ended last year, and a lot of new series started, so I thought I’d do a post with a quick recap of all the manga I’m currently keeping up with in jump, and my favorite things about them. 

My Hero Academia - My two favorite manga are both reaching the ends of their biggest arcs yet, and that’s been exciting but also exhausting to read week from week. 

MHA’s strength lies in its ideas and the scope of its ambitions. There’s few stories in shonen jump that work with such broad ideas, in trying to define hero and villain and giving the villains so much depth that the main character’s ultimate foil Shigaraki Tomura, feels more like a deuteragonist to the story, a second protagonist for the other side of the story rather than an antagonist. 

It’s a creative story,  with neat little ideas. Giving an entire arc to the villains was taking an actual risk. From a story that began wrapped entirely around Deku’s perspective, the story has evolved to balance the perspective  of multiple different characters who all come into conflict with each other. The best part of the war arc is that there’s no real good guys in a story with clear and distinct entities that label themselves “heroes’ and “villains.” The heroes are allowed to have impure motives, and do impure deeds. The villains are allowed to have noble motivations, and genuinely care for one another. This is all good because it’s not boring. A boring, simple, story where good defeats evil has been told a hundred times, My Hero Academia shines the brightest when it tries to do something different. 

Jujutsu Kaisen - If MHA’s strength lies in creativity, then JJK’s is in technical execution. If you compare the first 27 chapters of MHA and JJK just in the way that they develop the stakes, story, and ideals, JJK accomplishes a lot more in the same time. 

I’m not saying JJK is better, just that it tells its story better in some ways. MHA is in the middle of a tournament arc, whereas in JJK we see the first major emotional blow of the story. A character which was set up to be saved, and who everyone expected to be saved is instead killed and this has permanent ramifications for both Yuji’s development and the threat the villain presents. 

That’s why the Shibuya Arc has so much impact , despite only having 100 chapters of build up before it. Jujutsu Kaisen introduces a lot of characters, and then quickly develops them and the ideas that surround that character in a way that it feels like every time they’re on screen they are growing and changing in a way. It’s because things are continually changing in the story all the time, that every single time the story hits you it feels like a gut punch. There’s no one safe, no status quo, just a world that you know is going to change by the end of the story. Jujutsu Kaisen is good. Everyone should read Jujutsu Kaisen.  

Mission: Yozakura Family - Katekyo Hitman Reborn used to be one of my favorite manga in shonen jump, which gave me a weakness for manga with big mafia families where everry single character has one special quirky and eccentric power. 

Yozakura Family is also reaching a similiar pont that Reborn did, where after a year of publication it’s not doing well enough as a weekly gag manga and is starting to focus to a more serious with an overarching plot, and a fighter. The main female and main male protagonist have a relationship that actually develops which makes me soft for the two of them because I want to see the story improve and see where the author wants to take them. 

Our Blood Oath - There’s been a trend towards horror series in the recent newcomers in jump, which is great because I am all about horror. A series full of vampires using their blood to cut each other up is an easy sell to me. 

Stories in jump generally don’t tend to develop until they’ve lasted an entire year, but I like a lot of things that Our Blood Oath has started with. I love the series focus on adopted family, and the relationship between the two brothers. The main character genuinely acts like a bratty younger brother, and wields unlimited power exactly like a twelve year old swinging around a blood scythe would. Which is to say, very badly.  

Phantom Seer - Another newcomer series that leaves a strong impression. The things that the series has going for it so far is a really strong main character, who’s a pretty far deviation from the standard shonen protagonist of “I want to save everyone.” Rather than wnating to be the strongest, or wanting to be a hero, he just wants a normal life, and instead gets dragged into heroics by the good intentions of the people he’s surrounded by.

The art is also incredibly strong for this series. I’m glad the artist got another chance to draw a shonen junmp series because their art really shines in both the character designs, and the curse designs. There’s incredibly unique monster designs that are equally parts horrifying and fascinating even though most of them only stick around for one chapter. 

Undead Unluck - Most Shonen Manga either figure out right away what the central conflict is, other manga never figure it out. Undead Unluck is like “fuck it, let’s kill god.” 

Undead Unluck has a bad start, and normally I would never say “keep reading and give it a chance” if it gives you a negative first impression, but Undead Unluck quickly fixes a lot of mistakes in the first chapter. Andy at first says some creepy things towards the main character, but the author seemed to learn their lesson and made a lot of changes later on to make their relationship into a healthy one of consent and mutual affection. 

The main characters and the story premise are what sell this one. A bunch of supernatural beings going out of their way to do the impossible and kill god. The plot is almost pure chaos, but I believe the two main characters are strong enough that you want to follow them all the way through it. 

Dr. Stone -  The best part of Dr. Stone is trying to unravel the mystery of the premise, how the world became turned to stone. Senku is a compelling protagonist because he’s constantly trying to solve the mystery around him, the same way the audience is. 

Senku is a strong character, and there are other interesting ones like Gen, however sometimes the series while being a fun adventure the characters don’t really develop that much. However, there’s nothing better for a protagonist than a good antagonist. The best part of the america arc so far has been the introduction of an antagonist and foil to Senku. Instead of trying to rule through strength. Dr. Xeno views everything as a problem to be solved through science like Senku. He just also sees Science as a tool to rule others, unlike the fairly anarchistic Senku who doesn’t care for leadership. 

Some of the most interesting charactermoments for Senku lies in his interactions, his similiarities and differences with Dr. Xeno, and the fact that they’re now forced to cooperate while Senku is technically holding Dr. Xeno hostage is an interesting building tension between these two. I’m following this series for two reasons, one I’m interested in how the mystery will be solved, and two I wonder what kind of person that Senku will become when he completes his goal of restoring humanity. Senku is the main draw of the series with his weird charisma, and his unique interest in science above everything else, and I think there’s still a lot of untapped potential to mine in his character. 

[recurring-polynya]

You actually reblogged it! Yay! Thank you so much, I'm glad you did. I keep thinking about 'Brothers in Arms' because it's one of my favorite fics ever and i love everything about it, and just how well you nailed the ChadIshi dynamic down to a T. I think a lot about the dialogue right before this too, because it's my favorite part, but I mainly would love to see a breakdown of this bit: “Do you think he’s in Soul Society?” Uryuu asked. Chad must have been tempted to look. Uryuu knew he would have been, if he didn’t know for a fact that Souken had already moved on.

“I asked Abarai about that, actually,” Chad replied. “Abarai says it’s complicated, exactly how it gets decided where you go, but Oscar had a strong connection to his home and his friends, so he is most likely in the Mexican Land of the Dead.” A small smile crept onto Chad’s face. “My dream is to one day take a trip back to Mexico for el Día de los Muertos, and see him again.”

brothers in arms

Wowwww this bit is really rich! You would not think I would have so much to say about two paragraphs AND YET.

So for starters, you ever read a fic and it’s not even that big of a fic, but it just sticks in your head forever? Anyway, I am never not thinking about Not a Good Idea, a drabble about Oscar and Souken and Sora meeting up in Soul Society. It’s funny that each of the Karakura kids has some really important person that died on them, and even though the whole series is about life after death, aside from Sora’s short storyline, we never get to see any of them again.

I thoroughly admit that I may be wrong, but my reading of the dialogue in Uryuu’s fight with Kurotsuchi is that Souken went to Soul Society after dying, was immediately captured, and experimented on until he died again. I’ve posited this before-- that when the shinigami “exterminated” the Quincy, they killed them as living humans, and then hunted down and killed them as souls again so that they would get chucked back into the resurrection cycle and lose their Quincy powers. I think that the Wandenreich Quincy are actually either dead, and escaped this second killing, or born-as-souls (like shinigami nobles), descended from dead Quincy. I have absolutely no basis for this, it’s just what I think. That’s what I meant about Uryuu knowing that Souken had moved on.

I really, really love writing Renji knowing things. Something that you don’t really pick up the first time you read/watch Bleach is that Rukia seems like she knows a lot about how the afterlife works, but honestly, she is constantly just spitballin’. This makes sense! She never finished school! She’s a con artist! And if she’s learned anything as a noble, it’s that you can just say stuff with authority, and people will believe you! She’s a liar and a mansplainer and I love this for her. Conversely, Renji did finish school and he works for Byakuya and some of his best friends are nerds. I always like to write him as a guy who is very curious how things work, cities and squads and bureaucracies, and even though he pretends to be a cool himbo jock, he actually knows a shit-ton about the practicalities of being a grim reaper, beyond just killing monsters. I am also enamored with the idea of Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and Hell being just a few of an infinite set of spiritual/magical planes (this may have come out of another fanfic that lives in my head rent-free, The Roots of Heaven). Afterlives are one of my very favorite bits of folklore, they are so varied and cool! I wrote a fic once that mentioned Renji corresponding with the Russian Afterlife, I have precedent. I also like to think about Renji and Chad spending a ton of time together during the Advance Team Arc, just hanging out and talking about little things, and I love to drop in little references to that whenever possible.

As soon as I put in that bit about going to Mexico for Day of the Dead, I wanted it as a fic more than I could say. The Karakura Kids would all be young adults, maybe shortly after Uryuu and Chad get married. (What if Ryuuken paid for it? As a wedding gift??? I would die) I feel like Chad would have this deep yearning to know if Oscar approved of him. People tend to get really hung up on the wording for Chad’s vow not to use his fists for Bad, but these things are rarely so clear-cut in real life. I mean, Oscar wanted Chad to not get in fights with neighborhood kids, he certainly did not foresee his grandson developing supernatural powers and traveling to other realms to save the nature of existence. Not to mention the gay thing. Astute readers may note that everytime I write a post-canon fic, I make Chad a social worker who boxes as a hobby. I feel strongly that this is perfectly canon compliant (just like Chad and Uryuu getting married, of course)

This is one of those fics that I would love to read but do not feel qualified to write (to be perfectly honest, in my heart, I want you to write it 😂)-- I would probably crib a bunch of the worldbuilding from Coco, because that movie slapped. I actually think that Oscar was probably a pretty fun-loving guy, I mean, look at this dude, he clearly fucks:

and I like to believe that in any Afterlife, you shed some of effects of age, and also, he’s not responsible for an angry kid who just lost his parents. I think he would be way more Fun than Chad was expecting, and by Fun, I mean, he and Ichigo would definitely cause an International Afterlife Incident, like they would release some ancient spirit or something that would then run around Starting Shit. The Mexican Afterlife calls up Soul Society and is like “come get your boy” and they send Rukia and Renji because who else wants to deal with Ichigo, and Renji has to spend the entire time negotiating extradition treaties at the embassy, except he can’t sit down because he’s got Ichika strapped to his chest. Rukia would run off to help the Karakura Kids and be like “I am off maternity leave and am down to clown” and she and Oscar would get along great.

Anyway, OF COURSE Oscar would approve of Chad, who would not approve of Chad? and he would be like "Uryuu is not a person I ever would have imagined for you, but he clearly really loves you, what else matters?” Again, look at him, I think he had some boyfriends in the 70′s and also I do not care to write homophobia in my fics, I prefer to make everyone at least a little gay instead. Also, Uryuu deserves someone to take a look at him and say, “hi there, you’re my family now,” with no caveats or expectations, which is basically how I imagined it going down in Tell You My Sins.

[ve1vetyoongi]

Mic Drop | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff

au: rapper!yoongi, photographer!oc

summary: when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting.

warnings: multiple smut scenes, dirty talk, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), lots of orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, cum play, cum eating, but also tender fucking lol, very brief mention of death.

word count: 29k (rip)

rating: definitely explicit

playlist: visit my playlist page and select “mic drop.” (all links to be added later)

a/n: ahhh you don’t understand how happy i am to finally put this out into the world!!! i started writing this fic back in july and after a few rewrites (more on this at the end of the post if anyone sticks around until then) she’s finally finished eee <3 also!!! this fic is brought to you courtesy of the love yourself collab! this project has been super fun to be a part of n i wanna say thank you to everyone involved who made it such a welcoming experience! you can check out the masterlist here (link will be added later f u tumblr) to read all the other amazing fics from the incredibly talented authors in this project (literally so talented??? it’s sickening???) (im so excited to finally read them all now im done w this monster lol). all the love as always <3

Introducing Runch Randa!

The host is barely audible over the chants of your brother's name as the lights dim and the arena is sent into a haze of strobe lights.

The air is already heady with body heat and fragrant with sweat from the thousands of bodies smushed together in the pit and beyond that thousands more seated in the stands, phone lights twinkling in the darkened arena like stars. A girl in your peripheral clutches a sign with MARRY ME RUNCH RANDA scrawled in sharpie, torso clad in one of the cheap merch hoodies with your brother's face printed on the front, just like hundreds of others around her.

It's a full house. No one's surprised. The Mic Drop semi-final always creates a buzz of anticipation within the hip hop scene. But this year, with your brother Namjoon returning to compete for the trophy again, there isn't an empty seat in sight.

A buzz pulses through the crowd when the bass kicks in. It makes hearts beat faster, blood run hotter, a crescendo of screams crashing violently through room, the sheer volume enough to make the walls shake in time with the stamp of impatient feet.

It's infectious. Almost. If you hadn't been here a hundred times before, countless nights the same as this one that all started to blur into one somewhere along the line. Different crowds but the same energy, the same hum of anticipation that used to get your bones rattling, your skin hot with suspense. Now it's just routine. Now you feel nothing.

Besides, you're just here to do your job. The photographer. To take pictures, not to enjoy the show. Just like always.

Five seconds. You know Namjoon's set list like the back of your hand by now. Five seconds until he takes the stage and the crowd goes wild.

One, two, three, four...

Like clockwork, the stage lights up and there he is, face blown up in painful detail across every screen. Runch Randa. His stage name pulses through the room, a mantra, chanted until throats turn sore and mouths run dry.

Dark framed glasses cover his eyes but his stance is enough to tell you that he came here to win, his presence immediately filling the empty stage with an energy that makes it impossible to look anywhere else, even for a moment.

He is already damp with sweat, neck glistening beneath the white lights. Like routine you snap a few shots when he taunts the camera with a smirk, brushing a hand through his immaculately gelled hair teasingly, mouth turning up into a grin when the audience roars.

Runch Randa walks across the stage with the ease of someone who lives and breathes for moments like these. Grabs the microphone with two hands, shiny silver rings glinting on his fingers beneath the harsh strobe lights.

You can see his opponents in the front row, nothing but rookies, the intimidation etched into their features visible even from where you stand side stage as they swallow the bitter pill that they stand no chance against him.

Once upon a time you were the same as the wide eyed fans in the pit, filled with an admiration for your brother. He was everything you wanted to be; a whirlwind of fearless, brazen passion when he got up on stage. But things changed once Namjoon won Mic Drop, claiming the trophy at the tender age of seventeen. After that he started filling arenas. Then stadiums. And you were left behind in the ruins of his whirlwind, feeling the Namjoon you once knew slip further away as Runch Randa took center stage, viewing his perfect persona through the lens of your camera with the same sour resentment as the rookies.

Because when a familiar beat permeates the arena, you can't help but close your eyes and imagine the name the crowd screams is yours. That it's you out there instead of him. It's you pouring your heart into the lyrics that you find yourself whispering unconsciously in time with your brother.

Your lyrics.

The lyrics you wrote especially for this performance. The same lyrics that would be streamed by millions, top charts and win Namjoon another stupid trophy to add to his already elaborate collection.

The only reason Namjoon still kept you around was because he couldn't write them himself.

The track ends and the Mic Drop host crosses the stage with a grin. Namjoon's arm is thrust into the air triumphantly.

"And our first finalist is...Runch Randa!"

You snap a picture of your brother smiling victoriously.

"He's gonna win. I know it."

Namjoon's manager Jimin sidles up beside you, grin plastered to his face. It's nauseating.

"Does he ever lose?" You murmur

Runch Randa! Runch Randa! Runch Randa!

--

Mic Drop. The most highly anticipated event in the music industry for its ability to make hip hop artists stars; as well as its tendency to break them just as easily.

Fame. Money. Glory. Just a few of the reasons why rap rookies from across the globe are desperate to compete in the ruthless battle of blood, sweat and rap that is Mic Drop.

They all think they have what it takes. That they have that special something the judges are looking for. Unfortunately, most don't even make it past the auditions phase.

When your brother, Mic Drop legend Runch Randa, announced he would be ditching his celebrity status and stadium concerts to return to his underground roots and compete for the trophy again, it raised a series of questions

Why now? What did he have to prove?

Once the press got wind of the fact that your parent's, CEO'S of the most prestigious record label in the industry Big Hit Entertainment, had run into a spot of financial trouble, everyone assumed your brother's re-entry was a master plan to win the lavish cash prize afforded to competition winners. Sure, you couldn't deny that it was partly true --- Big Hit's stocks were plummeting and a lot was at stake.

Truthfully, though, you knew your brother well enough to see that Namjoon's motives were far more selfish; to put it simply, he was greedy. Fame was his drug. Once he got a taste he could never get enough.

Of course, a cheque signed and delivered by your father's hand shut any rumors down very quickly. Your parent's were good at silencing people if it meant protecting Namjoon's reputation.

Even you, their own daughter.

The name tag labelled OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER was nothing but a cover up for the true reason you spent so much time at Big Hit -- writing each and every one of Namjoon's hit songs. A secret you were forced to keep as you watched your brother through a camera lens.

Which is how you find yourself as his strictly-invitation-only after party, an attempt at building momentum for the big final in just a few weeks time, with a camera in hand.

You're sat in the corner of the A-list club Jimin rented out for the event, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass with a bored disinterest as you watch your brother shake hands with company investors and big buck producers, most of which you'd never even heard of.

These things always seem to drag on, the clock ticking slower with each agonising second spent smiling courteously to uphold the supportive sister persona. Your feet are starting to hurt in your heels and all you want to do is hide away in the Big Hit studio and scribble down the lyrics floating aimlessly in your mind. That's the only good thing about these events -- they give you time to think, a rare relief in between your brother's busy schedules.

"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite lyricist."

A cheerful voice jolts you from your thoughts and when you blink up through the flashing lights you're met with a lazy grin belonging to Hoseok, one of the producers at Big Hit. He's an ex Mic Drop contestant himself, coming fourth and just missing out on the semi-finals three years ago. He never had the stomach for it anyway, he always says, but you never miss the rejection in his eyes.

Hoseok is also one of the only people who knows about your secret. He was hired to help you work on tracks for your brother once he made it big after all, and although he would never admit it you knew he probably had to sign a hefty NDA. Still, you were grateful to have him around — you couldn't deny you made something of a dream team together.

"Mind if I sit?" He gestures with his glass towards the empty space beside you, and you move your purse so he can squash in on the leather couch. "At least some of us are having fun, huh?" You follow his gaze to Namjoon on the dance floor, hands all over some vaguely recognizable celebrity's hips.

You grimace and swig back the remaining alcohol in your glass. "Too much fun, apparently."

Hoseok snorts, wringing his hands. "Y'know, we could get out of here if you're as bored as I am..." His words slur just slightly and you figure his confidence is a result of the amber liquor in his glass. The shy Hoseok  you know well returns quickly though as he averts his eyes when you raise a brow. "Not like that! I just thought maybe we could get a drink or something...if you want to?"

You shift awkwardly, having to shout over the booming club music for him to hear you. "I should really stay here. People might ask questions if the sister of the host just...disappears."

"Right!" Hoseok smiles sheepishly then slaps his own forehead. "Right. Forget I ever asked."

You shake your head fondly and turn back towards the dance floor just in time to see Namjoon whisper in the ear of the DJ, music cutting as he takes the mic and hops up onto the small stage to address the party.

Finally! A sign he was going to wrap up the evening for good!

He clears his throat and the huddle of mingling bodies below him fall into an expectant hush.

"Uh, so I'm not usually very good at these speech things --" He pauses and the crowd laughs. You tap your knee impatiently. "But I just wanted to say thank you. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your support. So, the next round of drinks are on me! I haven't won — yet — but its never too early to start celebrating, right?"

Namjoon raises his flute of champagne and the party-goers cheer just as a flurry of confetti drops from the ceiling. The music starts again and you're too busy picking the brightly colored paper out of your hair disgruntledly to notice the way the room suddenly quietens and the guests part down the middle like prey from a predator.

"Y/N. Look." Hoseok elbows you sharply and flies forward in his seat, whisky sloshing over the edge of his glass. "Shit! Is that--"

Is that really him? What is he doing here? He's back!

You look up just in time to see the commotion as a figure in a black hoodie weaves effortlessly to the front of the room. You don't recognise him but something about his presence gives you chills.

Namjoon is too busy throwing back his drink to notice as the man climbs the stage, his skinny jeans and high tops sticking out like a sore thumb against the sea of dress shoes and cocktail dresses. He clearly wasn't invited.

By the time your brother senses the change in the air, it's too late.

You feel your face pale, choking when the figure finally turns and lets down his hood, revealing a head of blue hair and a venomous smirk.

"Gloss?"

Namjoon turns and his smile dissolves. He just stares stiffly at the person in front of him like he's seen a ghost. In a way you suppose he has -- the ghost of his past. After all, the last time anyone saw this face was five years ago at the Mic Drop final.

It is him! It's Gloss! Why is he back?

The night that changed all of your lives. When Namjoon claimed the Mic Drop trophy and Gloss, his opponent, lost everything.

It's been years since the last time you saw Gloss but you still recognize the distinctive confidence in his gait, the way his eyes flash with something dark as he looks your brother up and down with a breathy laugh.

Namjoon is frozen, breathing heavily.

Gloss' voice is husky when he finally speaks. It makes you shiver.

"Runch Randa. Long time no see, huh?"

A beat of unbearable silence.

"What are you doing here?"

Gloss's chuckle makes Namjoon snarl. You see the way his jaw tenses and his fists clench. He's too wound up; he'll snap if you don't do something and fast.

You get to your feet but Hoseok pulls you back down sternly by the elbow. "Don't." You protest but his grip is too tight so you just fidget helplessly instead.

Something settles in the atmosphere; a nervousness that makes you itch, makes your heart pump into overdrive as you watch them draw closer, eyes narrowed like boxers in a ring, waiting for the other to make a move. Hoseok covers his eyes.

"I wouldn't start celebrating just yet, Runch. The competition has only just begun."

The crowd gasps when your brother's clenched fist swings at his smug opponent. The rapper ducks but not quite in time and you can't remember which comes first — the crunch that crackles through the speakers when Namjoon's ring-clad knuckles collide with Gloss' face or the ear splitting thump of his mic dropping to the ground.

--

The party ends abruptly. Your head spins with confusion as you watch the guests leave in shock. Seeing Namjoon up on that stage opposite his biggest opponent again makes your stomach sick, like you were reliving the events of five years ago all over again.

Deep down you had always expected this moment to come. For Gloss to return looking for revenge or something. After all, Gloss didn't just loose Mic Drop to anyone -- he lost to Namjoon, his former best friend and music partner. Namjoon and Yoongi. They were supposed to win together. But for reasons still unknown, even to you, Yoongi was disqualified moments before the final commenced, plummeting your brother into the world of fame alone.

After that, Gloss all but disappeared, his pitiful downfall nothing but a hip hop legend to those who heard it. No record deals or sponsorships or stadium tours like your brother. A legend in his own right, but for all the wrong reasons. Mic Drop banned duos from competing thereafter.

Eventually you gather the courage to head into one of the back rooms where the rappers had been hauled by security guards in hi-vis jackets after their scuffle. You can hear Jimin babbling before you even reach the door.

"What were you thinking? Punching him? You better hope the press don't get ahold of this or else you're in big trouble—"

"Let me go!" Namjoon grunts to Jimin whose face is almost as red as his own. "I'm gonna end this once and for all."

"You'll do no such thing," Jimin tuts, pushing him firmly by the shoulder so he slumps into his seat with a roll of the eyes, other hand pressing his phone to his ear. "Do you even understand the amount of damage control I'm going to have to do to? — hold on, yes, this is Park Jimin speaking..."

The room smells of disinfectant and medical gauze and you spot Namjoon instantly, surrounded by an abundance of medics. His breathing is still ragged, the vein on his neck standing to prominence, knee bouncing as he impatiently waits for his ruby knuckles to be bandaged, too engaged to notice your arrival.

To your left you're surprised to find Yoongi. He's the epitome of composure despite the heavy tension in the air. He grabs a roll of bandage and begins to patch up his own fist, eyes lighting up with something you can't put your finger on when you slide into the room.

"Well, look who decided to turn up. If it isn't Namjoon's little sister. Long time no see, Y/N."

You freeze. It's been years since you heard him say your name. It makes you feel funny.

"Yoongi." You swallow. "What are you doing here?"

His shit eating grin makes your blood boil. "I take it you haven't heard yet, then."

You roll your eyes. You should be checking on Namjoon not humoring whatever stupid motives his opponent has. "Heard what, Yoongi?"

"I'm re-entering the competition, too."

You stagger backwards. Yoongi? Re-entering the competition? Mic Drop?

"But--you were disqualified--I don't understand?"

"I was disqualified. Disqualifications are only valid for five years, according to the rule book. Who knew?" He smirks when your eyes widen. "And I think you'll find that my sentence is up. I'm gonna win this time, once and for all."

"I don't think you know what you're doing, Yoongi—"

"There's more." He licks his lips. "I know your secret."

Your heart stops, mouth running dry. You throw a glance over your shoulder. Namjoon is still engaged, swatting away a medic's ice pack with a scowl, thankfully too busy to notice when you draw closer, voice a harsh whisper. "W-what secret?"

Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle, wincing just barely when he touches a damp cloth to the cut in his lip, a red splotch forming on the fabric. "You know exactly what secret I'm talking about, Y/N. Wouldn't it be ironic if someone slipped a tip off to the judges panel about Namjoon's ghost writer—"

"Shut the fuck up Min Yoongi or I'll break your nose for real this time!" Namjoon's voice bellows behind you, making you jolt. He charges at Yoongi, lip quivering like he might make his threat a reality. "Leave her out of this!"

Yoongi's nostrils flare. "Everyone knows she's a part of this, Namjoon, whether she likes it or not!"

All eyes look your way, as if expecting you to say something, but Yoongi's words fall cluelessly on you. You hadn't so much as thought about him in years. What did you have to do with this stupid ongoing feud with your brother that he refused to let go?

You glance between them, settling for sending a blank look at Yoongi and shuffling over to Namjoon instead. Your brother seems prideful at your show of allegiance. Yoongi scoffs.

"Namjoon?" Your mouth is dry with the shock of the situation and it comes out sounding funny, like you're wary of him. A gash above his eyebrow starts to dribble crimson. "Shit, you're hurt..."

"Get off me." Namjoon shakes his shoulder violently and you gingerly remove your hand, brows furrowed at his rejection. He directs his attention to Yoongi. "And you. You want a fight? It's on."

"Joon!—" He waves you off. It's pointless anyway. When he gets this rash there's no changing his mind.

"You want to end this thing once and for all? Then let's do this. You and me. At the final."

Yoongi raises a brow. "Deal. I'd shake your hand but you might try and knock me into next week again."

Namjoon doesn't laugh.

A hoard of security guards bust into the room and head straight for Yoongi. "Finally. What the fuck do I even pay these people for?"

"Get off me!"

You place a hand on Namjoon's shoulder and find that he's trembling. Rage? Nerves? Adrenaline? All three, probably, if the vacant blackness behind his eyes is anything to go by.

You're already trailing behind your brother when you hear Yoongi's voice carry down the hall. "I'll see you at the final! When I win. Secrets always find a way to come back and bite you in the ass, Runch. You should know that better than anyone!"

--

Namjoon begs you to come as his plus one to some scummy gig Gloss is rumored to be performing at tonight. To check out the competition, he says, but you recognise the way he nibbles his lip as he does.

Fear. He'll never admit it but Namjoon is scared he’s going to lose.

You agree to join him because you think it may put his mind at rest.

As Namjoon's manager, Jimin has all sorts of connections, mumbling thank you's into the head set sitting around his ears like a permanent accessory and scribbling down the address of some club down town.

The driver your parent's hired to escort Namjoon around as a paparazzi safety precaution drops the three of you a block away; the car's black tinted windows and shiny number plate would be out of place in such a scummy part of town. The plan would only work if you went unnoticed. Namjoon couldn't risk running into a Runch Randa fangirl tonight. It was technically against the Mic Drop rules to have any intel on your opponents, after all.

You don't like to tell Namjoon that his disguise won't do much for blending in. He dons a designer cap pulled down low over his face, long black coat drowning his figure and expensive leather boots crunching against broken glass and cigarette stumps as you near the club. It's too put together to seem natural, a dead give away that he doesn't belong here among the sea of ripped jeans and septum rings and tattoo sleeves around you. Even with a patterned bandana covering half of his face, the sculpted cheekbones and piercing eyes smudged effortlessly with black eyeliner poking over the top scream celebrity.

Luckily for you, the plain dress and knit cardigan hugging your body doesn't alert the suspicions of the bouncers cross armed at the entrance.

Namjoon wrinkles his nose and prods a half empty solo cup discarded outside with his toe, Jimin practically jittering with nerves and barely avoiding a stumbling drunk as you approach the men who stand at nearly double your size. Namjoon said it was best that you acted as spokesperson tonight — the only reason he even brought you along was because nobody would know your face and your position at Big Hit allowed you to pull some strings.

Your fingers shake as you produce a photography license from your bag, heart pounding as one of the menacing bouncers raises his eyebrow beneath the deep red hue emanating from a tacky neon sign posted above the door.

Luckily the breath you're holding is leaving you in a relieved thank you as he nods, moves to the side and gestures for your entourage to dip inside with the rest of the crowd. Namjoon charges ahead into the darkness and you follow him with an awkward smile to make up for his rude demeanour.

No turning back now...

Music hits like a deafening wave, blasting from the speakers at a volume that makes the walls shiver and your head throb. The club is alive with reckless anticipation, a sea of sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor in time with the pulsing beat. The energy swallows you whole, knuckles turning white as you cling to Jimin's sleeve, letting him elbow through the throng of indistinguishable faces that glitter beneath the tacky disco ball dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.

The crowd eventually spits you back out in a quieter corner of the club, Namjoon already making a beeline for the seedy bar. "There's a whiskey sour with my name on it and it's the only thing that'll get me through this shit." He murmurs as he crosses the room and occupies a bar stool beside a couple mid heavy make out session, pulling the hat closer around his face.

With a sigh, you turn back to Jimin who is eyeing up the strip pole and the exotic dancers nearby with wide eyes. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

The italian leather couch you slump into is suspiciously sticky beneath your bare thighs. "He needs to get the apprehension out of his system," you counter. "Once he sees that there's no competition he'll be able to take him down."

"I hope you're right." Jimin is wringing his hands, not knowing what to do with them now his headset is sat on the backseat of the car a block away. "I'd hate for this to knock his confidence."

"What?" You snort. "You think Gloss might actually beat him?"

Namjoon is the best rapper around, there's no debate. Nobody could beat him. Not even Gloss.

"No." His pursed lips say otherwise. You raise a brow. Jimin lowers his voice. "Maybe. Namjoon's rash. Gets ahead of himself. If he doesn't pull it together he'll play straight into Yoongi's hands..."

"Shows starting." Your open mouth snaps shut when the cushions dip beside you and Namjoon throws his arms over the back of the couch, swirling his half empty glass with an overconfident smirk.

Jimin averts his gaze. He knows he probably said too much. Sure, you're technically his colleague but you're also Namjoon's sister, the daughter of his boss. If Namjoon had overheard his position at Big Hit could have been called into question.

You would have to grill him more about Yoongi's motives later. Namjoon was right; the show really was starting.

Lights send the club into a dizzying purple haze, a new beat rumbling through the club that makes your skin prickle. It's almost drowned out by the electricity in the air, the frantic stamping of feet, the brazen chants of a single name over and over that fills you with a funny tingly feeling.

Gloss! Gloss! Gloss!

Something about it feels dirty.

The crowd is packed tightly together in the pit now. Even from where you sit, avoiding club goers eyes on the opposite side of the room, you find your attention glued to the stage. The set up is nothing like the one your brother occupies every night; just a wooden structure, painted black at one point but scuffed and scratched by the soles of shoes that boast the history of the place. The speakers are propped on broken crates, no big LED screens or back up dancers like your parents hire out for Namjoon.

Though none of that seems to matter when your gaze falls on the sole microphone stand placed centre stage beneath a blinding spotlight. It's the only familiar parallel between the two performers. It's a symbol of an artist, of the passion that comes with being up on that stage — any stage. It belongs to a performer.

You have to peer through a sea of frantic waving hands on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the combat boots taking the stage in time with the music rushing in your ears, mouth dry at the silver rings glinting under the harsh lights as fingers curl around the microphone.

"Yoongi." Namjoon grunts beside you, back stick straight and alert now. The traces of his previous smirk have been erased, a line appearing at the bridge of his nose. "There he is."

Yoongi throws his head back, breathes in the stuffy air that carries the shouts and whistles of the crowd like it's the sweetest oxygen money can buy.

The stench of beer burns your eyes but you're scared you'll miss a glimpse of his messy blue hair, or the eyes drunk on the fierce energy pulsing through the club to stop watching even if you tried.

When his voice permeates the room it's husky, burning through you like a shot of dry whisky. Namjoon stiffens, loosens the bandana around his face so he can see better.

Is that Runch Randa?

"Namjoon..." You hiss. "People are looking."

"Shut up." He grits, jaw tightening as Yoongi's lyrics cut through the tension like a serrated knife.

The way he moves across the stage like he owns it is exhilarating, makes the blood in your veins pump hot, limbs turning to lead as the crowd hangs off his every word.

He's good. Great, even. His lyrics give you goosebumps and you realise you haven't felt like this about a performance in a long time. Passionate. Yoongi is exhilarating to watch and it shakes you to the core.

It's then that it dawns on you. The reason Namjoon feels threatened is because there is a real chance that he might loose everything.

Gloss might take the trophy once and for all.

You only rip your eyes away from the stage when you feel Namjoon stand up beside you, his body disappearing into the crowd.

You get up too. "Leave him." You watch Jimin mouth. "He's just angry, he'll calm down—"

You don't care about Namjoon, not when the air is suddenly too thick, too heavy to breathe. Not when your hands sweat and you heave with a desire to run from reality and the suffocating smell of stale cigarette smoke that made your throat burn, like you can't get your body to breathe.

"Y/N? Where are you going?"

You swear you're floating, feet never seeming to quite touch the ground as you battle against the hazy dizziness that makes the room spin, ignoring Jimin's exasperated shouts of your name as you push through the gaps between bodies and pray your sense of direction is still intact enough to pull your outstretched arms towards the exit.

--

It's dark outside when you spill out of the exit, spluttering and heaving for air.

The brick is cool against your back when you slide down a nearby wall, hugging your knees.

A deep breath. In then out. Your chest loosens, lungs begin to feel full enough again.

Until a gravelly voice rings out into the night, clearer than the thump of unintelligible music from inside the club that makes your head pound.

"So it was you I saw back there. Good to know I'm not seeing things."

Even before you lift your face from between your knees you know who it belongs to. The single person you want to see least in the world at this very moment.

"Go away." You grumble but all that follows is a low chuckle as Yoongi slumps down next to you, ensuring to leave a safe distance between your crouched bodies.

It's funny. You had been preparing yourself to see him all night but now he's actually here in front of you, your mouth is dry.

He looks the same as he always did; dark eyes that burn hot as they scan your face, cocky smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. His brow looks wearier than you remember though, too weary for a man of twenty three. The only indication that time has passed since him and your brother were best friends.

"I assume Namjoon sent you here, then?"

The mention of your brother's name offers you the courage you need to look at him directly. His forehead still gleams with sweat in the dim moonlight, hair slicked back with a red bandana. There's a ring around his eye now, black and bruised. He must have taken off the black hoodie he donned on stage, left now in only a white vest which exposes his arms and to your dismay makes your blood run a little hotter.

"He's inside. I just came along because I had to." You mumble. "I'm not his spy, you know."

"Sure as shit seems like it." Yoongi spits with an amused chuckle, head lolling on his shoulders to face you. "He worried I might tell everyone about his little secret? Or was he trying to find his own leverage?"

A hot anger boils beneath your skin, rising all the way to your cheeks. Namjoon wouldn't do that would he? He didn't play that way. He didn't need to get an upper hand on Yoongi. He just wanted to see what he was up against.

"What's your problem, Yoongi?" The smirk on his mouth never falters, something glinting behind his eyes that tells you he wants to get a rise out of you. Even so, you can't help the way your voice raises, staggering to your feet. He chuckles darkly in response. "You get off on being an asshole or something?"

"You're too naive. What's so bad about telling the truth?" He closed the space between you until he's hovering above you, breath warm against your cheek. Your heart starts to race."What's so bad about taking back what is mine?"

Your breath hitches when his hand presses into the wall beside your head, effectively cornering you beneath his chest. "You could ruin his career."

Yoongi snorts. "What? Like he ruined mine?"

A few beats of silence. His eyes scan your face and it makes your stomach feel funny. You push at his chest, sucking in a shaky breath when he backs off a little and you realise part of you is weirdly disappointed that he did.

"Yoongi I don't know what happened between you and Namjoon—"

"No. You wouldn't know." He scorns, slinging his hands in his pockets, face darker now at the mention of his feud with your brother. "Because Namjoon loves secrets right? Namjoon likes to use people, Y/N. Just like he's using you now, to get to the top. And then he'll throw you away just like he did with me, sweetheart."

"Namjoon wouldn't do that." You bite your lip, the words leaving your tongue sounding a little less sure than you intend.

"Why? What makes you think you're any different?"

"He's my brother."

"I was his brother once too, remember?" He swallows, shaking his head in disbelief at your denial. "The only blood that matters to Namjoon is the blood shed to get him to the top."

You wrap your arms around your torso instinctively. Yoongi's words cut too deep. Maybe something inside of you thought Yoongi was right?

No. You came here to protect Namjoon yet here you were allowing his enemy to get inside your head.

"Fuck you, Min Yoongi." You spit, enjoying the way his eyes widen at the venom lacing your tone. "I made a mistake coming here."

Before you could brush past him and escape the heat  running through your blood stream which feels fuzzier than hatred should, a hand curls around your wrist.

"Shit. Looks like someone's on your trail."

A quick glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jimin, face hidden by the visor of his black cap but recognisable none the less. He speaks a few words to the bouncer, probably asking if they saw you come out.

"Oh no."

The bouncer gestures in your direction. Jimin's eyes pause for a second as they skim across your form stood rigid with shock and your heart falls out of your ass when he starts in the direction of where you stand way too close to Yoongi unable to move a single muscle as you brace for discovery. To pay for your betrayal of your brother.

"You coming or what?" Yoongi snaps you back to reality with a tug on your arm, feet stumbling over each other as he drags you behind him further down the alley and around a nearly pitch black corner, too far away from the street lights to be basked in their orange glow.

"What the fuck, Yoongi?" You try to shrug out of his grasp, heart beating faster when you see the flat look on his face. "Let go of me!"

Yoongi comes to an abrupt halt. "Listen, I'm trying to save your ass here. You want to get caught? Go on then! Not my problem."

You nibble your lip, glancing one way at the dark alley and the other at Jimin pacing up and down the street with furrowed brows.

"Just trust me, Y/N."

Jimin's footsteps get closer and closer. It's now or never.

Tightening your jaw, you turn back to Yoongi and nod. The words feel foreign as they pass your lips. "I...trust you."

With that, Yoongi grabs your hand and breaks into a sprint

Turning the corner, the alley meets a dead end. The back of the club is just as run down as the front, littered with cracked beer bottles and cigarette stumps. The sign above the door labelled NO ENTRY doesn't offer any light and apparently Yoongi doesn't listen to directions because he fishes in his back pocket for a key, sliding the bolt and pushing on the bar to hold the door open with a small nod for you to go inside first.

With a deep breath, you do.

The door closes behind you with a jingle of chains, cutting off the slither of moonlight it provided and sending you into complete darkness. You hear Yoongi slide the bolt back across and then he fumbles for you in the darkness, your body pulled down next to his with a yelp so that you're out of direct view of the window which looks inside the room.

"I think they followed us." His voice is silk but there's an underlying insinuation. Be quiet.

Yoongi's eye level now, knees squeezed up against yours in the cramped space beneath the window ledge. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, able to see the way he scans your face when he thinks you aren't looking. The way he grumbles and looks away when you catch him.

There's not time to dwell as you hear footsteps turn the corner, tracking all the way to the door where the bolt rattles, a sleeve wiping the window and pressing a cupped face to the glass.

"She's not here, man. You must have seen someone else."

It was Hoseok. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Countless all nighters in the studio together does that to a person. Had Jimin called him all the way down here to look for you?

Jimin chimes in quickly. "I could have sworn it was her..."

The voices trail off as they retreat back down the alley, around to the front of the club.

A sigh escapes you, head falling against the wall in relief. When you open your eyes Yoongi is looking at you again. There's something pained in his expression, unspoken words visible in the way he bites his cheek to stop them from spilling out into the darkness.

His fingers are still wrapped around your arm, an electricity buzzing through your veins when you feel him lean in closer, pulling you towards him just barely.

His lips. Chapped and so close to yours. God. You think you want to kiss them. Just to know how it feels. You've never seen them up this close before. Not close enough to feel his hot breaths puffing against your forehead. Not close enough that if you just lifted your chin a little bit...

Yoongi lets out an embarrassed cough, jolting you out of your thoughts. "That was a close one, huh?" The spot where his hand resided feels cold when he rips it away.

Yoongi's face is wiped of any emotion again. He's not completely slick though as when he finally speaks again he sounds husky, the betrayal in his voice surprising even him.

"Are you okay?"

What were you supposed to say to that? I almost got caught with my brother's enemy and then thought about kissing said enemy. No, I don't think I am okay.

"Fine. Thanks."

Yoongi offers you a hand, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him before he leans across your body to flick on the lights.

The yellowish stream burns your eyes but allows you to take in the room around you. There's a keyboard in the corner, piles of sheet music strewn across the wooden desk beside it. A pair of speakers hooked up to a worn looking sound machine. A mic and a pair of headphones slung over the back of the mismatch wheely chair tucked beneath a desk.

A studio.

He must notice the way you look around with wide eyes, redness creeping up his neck as he busies himself by kicking some of the clutter on the floor behind the desk. "Wasn't expecting guests."

It definitely wasn't the high tech producing set up you were provided with back at Big Hit, no hifi system or fancy computer programmes. The furniture was mismatch, like someone had collected a bunch of spare puzzle pieces and shook them up in the box until they made a picture.

Somehow of the pieces still manage to seem somehow inherently Yoongi; the basketball tee with GLOSS on the back draped over his chair, even the empty water bottles overflowing in the trash can. The tiny framed picture of a younger looking Yoongi next to a woman you think you recognise but can't quite put your finger on.

"Genius lab?" You snort, nodding towards the sign hanging haphazardly above the monitor.

Yoongi shrugs. "What can I say? It's true."

"Confident." You muse.

You share a smile. It's strange. Familiar. The way his eyes crinkle and even the husk of the chuckle that follows reminding you of when things were good, back when you considered Yoongi to be a sort of friend. Before things got fucked up.

"You'll take it back when I win."

Old habits might not die hard but the rational part of your brain registers the implication of his words, even beneath his playful facade. The studio suddenly feels cold. Nostalgia dissipates. You remember why you're here.

"Why didn't you just let them find me?"

"You know as well as I do that Namjoon risks getting disqualified if Jimin causes a scene and gets himself caught snooping around here."

You huff an exasperated breath. For all Yoongi's talk of  having the upper hand he sure did seem reluctant to use it. "Isn't that what you want? What's stopping you? Want to drag it out or something?"

Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, crossing the room and ducking into a drawer in the far corner. He returns with two glasses and a murky bottle of something strong, already a quarter empty as he pours some out. He offers the second glass towards you but you wave it away.

"Suit yourself." He takes a swig of the dark liquid, squeezes his eyes shut. "Because I want to win fair and square."

You shake your head. "All of this. Just for a stupid trophy?"

He eyes you over the rim of his glass, swirling the liquid with an overconfidence that makes you grit your teeth in annoyance. "So Namjoon knows how it feels to lose something he loves." He looks you up and down then, coughing and turning his head when you notice it. "Yeah. I guess it's for the trophy."

Yoongi is despicable, you think. Is he really so fame hungry that he will destroy anyone standing in his way to get it? Even Namjoon? Sure, your brother has his faults but if there is one thing you know it's that he loves being on that stage. What happened between them that makes Yoongi think he deserves it more?

"So its a revenge thing, then. And what if you lose, huh?" The way your voice raises makes you wince. Yoongi slams his glass down and flashes you an are you serious face.

"Y/N don't you see? I have nothing to lose. Namjoon already took everything. My life, my family, my fame. Everything. You know how it feels to have it all dangled in front of your face? And then get it ripped away like it was never yours to begin with?"

Yes. You'd never tell him that, of course. But you did know. You had to watch Namjoon perform your songs every night through a camera lens. Snapping shots of him in his element and wishing those picture perfect moments were yours. What did Yoongi know?

"I see him on the big screen, on stages I dreamed of. Crowds screaming his name. It was supposed to be me, Y/N. Meanwhile I'm sat here," Yoongi gestures to the shabby studio you find yourself in, liquid sloshing over the edge of his glass. "In clothes I printed myself, making music in a shitty club for free because nobody will even listen to my shit."

He's panting by the end of his spiel, knuckles pressed to his eyes as he tries to regain his composure before he lets too many of his weaknesses show. Something resonates inside you, softening the anger towards him with what you recognize as sympathy.

"Then why do you still do it? Make music?"

"Because it's the only thing that never left me alone."

You sigh. While you're collecting your thoughts something catches your eye — a Polaroid picture, tacked onto the plasterboard behind his computer. It's of a smiling Yoongi and much to your surprise, a smiling Namjoon, arms wrapped around each other like nothing could ever break them apart. You briefly wonder why he kept it, if he hated Namjoon so much.

You turn to him again.

"Don't make me regret saying this but you're good, Yoongi. Like really good. Your performance earlier it was...amazing. I mean that."

Yoongi's stern eyes soften with surprise. He almost seems pained, like the simple compliment means more to him than you expected.

"So, you don't have to do this. Big Hit has connections, I could get in touch with a couple record labels--"

He stiffens again. "What? Are you my manager now? As if any record label would take a chance on the biggest Mic Drop loser in history, Y/N, don't talk shit."

You trail off. It's true and you know it.

He swallows hard. "You know what I think? I think you're here because you know that I might actually win this thing. As much as Namjoon knows how to play dirty he doesn't have the talent. He never did! That's why he's using you to write his material." His laugh makes you shiver. "How can he even call himself an artist? It's pathetic."

That's all it takes for your patience to snap. Is the way your blood boils with a sudden and insatiable rage because of the way he bad mouthed your brother? Surely you didn't actually believe him? No, everything he said was a lie -- it had to be.

Your hand curls into a fist, anger spilling over as you charge at him full force. Yoongi barley flinches, his fingers deftly curling around your wrist before it can meet his jaw and pulling you into him at the waist so he can slot his bottom lip between yours.

"Fuck yo— hmf?"

Your eyes widen as you register his slightly chapped lips moving against your own, remnants of the amber liquid he poured down his throat earlier sour on your tongue, a surprised gasp leaving you when Yoongi flips your bodies and slams your back roughly against the wall, settling himself between your legs.

"Gonna finish what Namjoon started, sweetheart?" When he pulls back you're panting, eyes trained to his parted lips with wonder.

He kissed you. Yoongi kissed you. For real.

His warm breath still mingles with yours as you try to choke a response, anything. Yoongi's eyes have a dark glint to them and god you should hate him for winding you up like this but being this close to him just feels too good.

Then, before you can think better of it, you grab his collar with your free hand and smash your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue that makes your entire body burn with relief.

The groan he lets out against your mouth tells you he wants this too. "Fuck, couldn't help myself." He pants. "You're driving me crazy."

You feel a dampness throb between your legs when his hands tangle in your hair, lips never leaving yours as he pulls you across the room and drops into his chair.

A whimper is pulled from your lips when his palms cup the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, though it's not in protest, dizzy with desire when he pulls you into his lap and bucks his hips so that his half hard cock brushes against your clothed heat.

"See what you do to me?" He pulls back to smirk at your swollen lips, a much needed breath entering your lungs, filling you with another bout of restless desire as Yoongi's eyes scan your face hungrily. It feels too good even though it should be so wrong.

"W-we shouldn't." Your mouth is dry, words coming out a little unsure which gives away just how much you want to keep going. "What if--"

A particularly harsh thrust of his hips makes you moan softly, head falling into the crook of Yoongi's neck. He growls when he catches sight of the growing wet patch on the front of his jeans, testament of his effect on you as much as you hated to admit it.

"What if Namjoon finds out?" His hand shoots between your legs, pads of his fingers tracing your clothed core, the coarse lace of your panties adding a delicious layer of friction against your folds. The delicate touch sets your body alight, skin burning to let go and submit to the feeling despite the voice in the back of your mind screaming no!

"What if Namjoon finds out that I make you this wet?" Your panties are sticking to your heat by now so it would have been futile to deny it. He smiles smugly when your legs shake and you throw an arm around his neck to keep your balance.

"S-shut up." It's meek and it only makes him laugh darkly, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer to nibble on the lobe of your ear.

If you didn't know any better you would think he was unaffected by this. Your chest heaves with desire and your hands itch with a yearning to touch him but Yoongi appears the epitome of composure, maintaining sinful eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side. The only give away is the way his cock twitches against your leg with each jerk of his hips, a funny sense of pride erupting in your chest knowing that he wants you too.

Open mouthed kisses drag down your jaw, lingering at your neck. His teeth nibble at the sensitive skin, tongue laving out to soothe the sting and it feels too good to worry about the bruises his sinful lips leave behind as a reminder of your weakness Namjoon could never know of.

"Look so pretty marked up, sweetheart." The pet name makes your clit throb, head throwing back as his mouth attacks the sensitive spot on your neck like he knew it was there all along. It's almost concerning how quickly he has you falling apart in his lap. How easily he turned you into a shuddering mess, barely able to form coherent sentences in between breathy gasps at the sensation of him making you his for all to see. "Show everyone that you're mine, hm?"

When Yoongi removes his hand from your core you slap a hand over your mouth to stop a whine of protest from escaping. Yoongi's eyes narrow, palming his bulge through his trousers as he watches you writhe in his lap with amusement, every twist of your hips falling short and providing no relief for your pulsing clit, already missing the feeling of his hand cupping your mound and considering how it would feel skin on skin—

Oh god. What am I doing?

You let out a groan, but not the good kind.

"What?" Yoongi seems to read your mind, snapping you back to reality when he pulls your panties to the side. He circles your entrance teasingly and you can't help the way you whimper. "Don't act like you don't want to sink down on my cock, Y/N. You could ride me right here and nobody would ever know."

"H-how can I trust you?" It would ruin Namjoon if he found out. He was already stressed, already growing distant from you. This had to stop before it went too far. Before there was no going back.

"Because I can make you feel like this." A lithe finger slides into your heat, easy because of how you drip over his hand. "Think about how much better my cock would stretch you out, hm?"

Each drag of his finger against your velvety walls has you squeezing your eyes shut. The sensation is overwhelming, and when he adds a second digit  you feel your repose crumble. Lust seems to crash over you like a wave, clouding your thought with a hazy desire to just give in and let Yoongi take you, uncaring about the repercussions now as you push down to meet his thrusts so he hits deeper than before.

"Fine." Your words are slurred, too busy chasing the feeling between your legs to see the way it makes Yoongi's eyes light up. "J-just hurry up and fuck me Yoongi."

"Well well," Yoongi settles back against the wall, looking between your bodies to watch the way his fingers disappear into your soaking cunt with an expression almost primal, his own breathing ragged now as he tries to resist turning you over and fucking you into tomorrow then and there. "Never thought I'd actually get to hear my name on your lips like this. Say it again."

A sharp flick of his wrist has you falling against his chest, pulsing around him. "Yoongi!"

"That's right," He licks his lips, free hand unzipping his jeans to relieve the pressure on his length. "Me. Yoongi." The way he mimicks your breathless tone makes a hot blush rise in your cheeks, aware of just how fucked out you must seem right now but too horny to care. "Been waiting for this. Ah shit!"

You take it upon yourself to hurry along the process by reaching into the waistband of his boxers to wrap a hand around the shaft of his cock. It pulses at your touch, the pace of Yoongi's fingers in your cunt stuttering as he flies forward, knuckles on the hand gripping your thigh turning white as he tries to regain some control while you stroke him firmly.

"Fuck your hands. Sinful. Knew they would be. God you're going to kill me if you keep this up, I swear." The worlds tumble from his mouth in one heaving breath as you twist your palm around his sticky head, enjoying the way his thighs twitch with a want to buck into your fist and his nose flares with the effort it takes to resist.

His cock feels girthy in your palm, hot and heavy as you help him shimmy his jeans around his thighs. When his cock slaps back against his stomach, impossibly hard and leaking with anticipation you feel your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" He almost taunts.

You bite your lip. "I don't think you're gonna fit."

It must have brushed his ego because the tip seemed to flush an even deeper shade of red. "Wanna sit on it and find out?"

A nod is all it takes for Yoongi to slide your panties to the side, slapping your hands away to grip the base of his cock and line it up with your entrance.

You both groan in unison when he pushes into your heat, the stretch burning with every inch, fingers clutching the fabric of his tank top at the sensation of finally being full.

"Fuuuck." You see his tongue snake out to wet his bottom lip when his hips finally join flush to yours, hair sticking to his already damp forehead as he allowed you to adjust. "So fucking tight for me, princess."

His cock throbs impossibly deep inside you when you unconsciously clench around it, feeling your face flush as you whimper for him to get on with it and fuck you already.

"Shh, patience." His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, setting it free with a pop. "Move."

At his command you do, bracing yourself on his shoulders. You raise up, feeling every ridge of his length until just the tip remains inside your heat. Then you are slamming back down and flushing at the groan which tumbles from his chest.

"Such a slut, taking my cock so well." His palms feel hot on your hips, dragging you up and down through the motion that has you panting.

Yoongi looks utterly amazed at the visual of you sinking down onto his length, unable to stop the satisfied grin settling into his features when you cry out after a particularly deep thrust. "Imagine if Namjoon could see you now. Falling apart on my cock?"

"Can we — hnng — not talk about my brother when you're in my fucking guts?"

"Why?" A whine leaves you when he slips out of your cunt, grabs you by the ass, and hoists you to your feet, roughly bending you over the desk until your cheek presses against the cold surface. Yoongi tugs your hands behind your back, cock already sinking back into your heat before you can protest at the emptiness. "Worried he'll think you're a slut for taking my cock when I'm the one whose going to fucking end him?"

"Yes!" You cry, unable to hold back now as you feel his cock hit deeper than before with every ram inside you that fills the room with the slapping sound of his pistoning hips, brushing your sweet spot each time and making the coil in your stomach tighten.

God, this is so wrong and you know it. You know it shouldn't feel so good when Yoongi's hands tangle in your hair, pulling you so that your back arches flush against his sweaty chest. Know how many people would be hurt if they knew how much you love it, how you push back into his thrusts, eager for more.

"Shit, you're squeezing so tight." His voice sounds strained now, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him shudder. "Close, shit. Where can I—"

"Inside me. Want you to f-fill me."

"Holy sh— always wanted to hear you say that. Okay, fuck."

A few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling inside you, the feeling of his release coating your walls enough to have you falling over the edge unexpectedly too, vision turning black as you cum with a cry.

The only sound that fills the silence is your heavy breaths mingling with his as your arms give out. You're silently grateful, as much as you hated to admit it, for the strong arm around your torso that holds you to him when your legs turn to jelly.

Yoongi slips out of you, admiring the way his cum leaks down your trembling thighs. The emptiness makes you keen, clenching around nothing.

"Made such a mess of you, kitten."

The sound of his zipper makes your heart sink, stiffening as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants. For a second you think he's going to leave you like this, shame caressing your cheeks as you envision how fucked out you must look.

But then, Yoongi's palms are back on your thighs as he kicks the chair from under his desk and pushes you roughly onto the cushion. "Think you can go again for me, princess?"

"Wha--?" His swollen lips make you loose your words, the way his tongue tantalizingly caresses your bottom lip drawing a choked whine from your throat instead.

"Fuck, always thought you'd make such pretty noises." It's mumbled gruffly under his breath, like he's confirming it with himself rather than addressing you. He pulls back to stare at you spread out for him, lidded eyes widening at the visual of your skirt pooled around your waist, legs kept open by the rough grip around your thigh that exposes your swollen slit. The way your arousal drips down your inner thighs along with his own release has him swallowing thickly. "Like being filled with my cum, huh? Such a slut."

Yoongi traces his fingers up your inner thighs, thumb applying a gentle pressure to your clit, legs struggling to fall shut around his hand to escape the over stimulation. "P-please Yoongi, I can't."

"You will." It's growled against your neck, hot breath making you shudder. "I know you can take it."

A knee slips between your thighs, holding them open so his fingers can deftly continue their brutal attack on your sensitive folds. Each drag of his knuckle up your slit makes you whimper, the way the pads of his fingers rub firm circles into your clit making it pulse. The feeling is more intense than before, borderline agonizing as a warmth builds in the pit of your stomach again.

Eventually the pain starts to dissipate, turns into something closer to pleasure when you feel a single digit slip into your heat, the slide made easy by the fact that his cock had already stretched you out and his release lubed you up nicely. Each pump makes a lewd squelching noise that has you biting your lip to stop from groaning unabashedly, Yoongi's gaze fixed to the sight of his knuckles disappearing inside you.

When you buck up into his touch again, desperately circling your hips to try and grind your clit against the heel of his hand, Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle. The muscles in your cunt tighten, skin damp with sweat as you fuck yourself on his hand in search of a second high that burns ever closer.

"Look at you, all needy again from just one finger. All fucked out again even after I stretched you out."

With that Yoongi removes his hand from your heat all together, leaving you gasping and clenching around nothing as your release falls farther away, unable to resist the groan of frustration that passes your lips.

"Don't stop!" Your head lolls back against the chair, thighs trembling with desperation to feel his touch again. "I was so close--"

"Suck." Yoongi raises his fingers to your lips. You notice the way they gleam, sticky and white in the studio lighting. The pads of his fingers smear the wetness across your swollen lips as he pushes for entry which you gave to him eagerly, humming around the digits. "Be a good girl, hm?"

He all but groans when your eyes flutter open and lock with his, tongue swirling around his fingers teasingly, enjoying the taste of your own arousal mixed with the saltiness of his cum, almost in sensory overload at the thought of how much better his cock would feel in your throat.

"That's it." A knuckle drags down your cheek possessively, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good girl."

A sticky trail of spit follows Yoongi's fingers when they leave your mouth with a lewd pop, your breaths coming out shaky and desperate as you watch his eyes zone in on your aching core.

The sight of him dropping to his knees is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, whimpering when his hot breath grazes over your throbbing clit. "Wanna taste you for myself."

And with that his tongue runs a rough stripe up your slit, eyes falling shut as he hums against your folds contentedly.

"Fuck Yoongi!" Your eyes roll back as he laps a few teasing licks across your bud, body turning to putty when his hands roughly pull you down the chair so that he can attach his mouth to your mound fully.

A guttural moan rises from his chest when you grind your core against his face, knuckles turning white as you clutch he chair like it's the only thing keeping you grounded, stopping you from floating away and losing yourself to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue teasing your already wrecked hole. An impatience rises in your stomach every time his nose grazes your clit, pushing your hips more forcefully to chase the relief it brings.

"So eager." You knew he'd have a smirk on his face if his lips weren't already occupied, wrapping around your clit and sucking with just the right amount of pressure to have your fingers tangling in the blue locks that spill loose from his bandanna now, holding him to your core so that you can rock against his tongue easier.

"Close sweetheart?" The way your chest heaves and little gasps spill past your lips as you chase your high must give away the effect he is having on you. You nod breathlessly and to your surprise Yoongi places a chaste kiss to your folds before pulling back all together, leaving you writhing and desperate for him to make cum for the second time. "Did I give you permission?"

Your heart beats furiously as your release slips away once again. Yoongi only stares at you intently. His lips glisten with a mixture of both of your releases and the thought alone makes your core ache. A loose shake of your head makes his eyes darken, licking some of the dampness from around his lips. "Gotta use your words, baby. Did I say you could cum?"

Dizzy with arousal, your words sound slurred and alien to your own ears. "N-no."

"Good. Now ask nicely."

"Please." It comes out whinier than you anticipate but Yoongi's hands twitch against the flesh of your thighs, giving away the fact that he likes it despite the way his mouth presses into a tight and unforgiving line. "Can I cum? Please?"

A deep laugh leaves his bitten lips. "I don't think you deserve it." His head dips back down between your legs, sloppy kisses pressed to each of your thighs as he edges ever closer to your dripping core. "I want you to count, okay?"

"O-oh, okay." He attacks your clit again, tongue swirling where his teeth graze across the pulsing bud. You're so sensitive that you're sure just the light brushes of his lips will send you over the edge if he keeps going.

"G-gonna cum if you--"

"Don't." The authority in his voice makes you gasp. "Didn't I say to count? One."

"Fuck!" Hot tears streak your cheeks when he pulls back so just his hot breath ghosts across your glistening folds. "I..I was so close!"

"Hey, hey." His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, a strangely gentle action in comparison to the bruising grip on your thigh. "You're doing so good. Trust me, okay? Wanna make you feel good."

For the second time that night you nod, putting all your trust into him for reasons you are too fucked out to dwell on there and then.

When his tongue snakes out to tease your clenching hole again it draws an agonizing cry from you, the coil already tightening in your belly. You shut your eyes.

"Don't" The hand on your chin tightens, forces you to look down at where his face is buried between your legs, authority lacing his words again. "Keep your eyes on me."

As soon as you lock eyes he gets to work again, humming out a "good girl" before you're losing yourself again to his tongue and he has to plant your feet down roughly to stop your hips from bucking too much.

Before you know it your clit's throbbing again and you're about to fall over the edge but before you can even let Yoongi know he's pulling back with a pant, practically gasping for air but still flashing you a shit eating grin. "Didn't think I was going to let you, did you sweetheart?"

"Two." You manage to breathe. "Two!"

By now you're sick of the teasing, a hand coming between your own legs to finish yourself off, ready to come undone whether Yoongi likes it or not. Before you can get your way, Yoongi's swatting your hand away. "Desperate slut. Wanna cum that bad huh?"

"Please!" You practically whimper.

That seems to do it for him, his eyes glazing over with what you recognise as lust. As if the last of his self control just snapped. Anticipation makes your blood run hot.

"Then make it to three and we'll see if I'm feeling nice."

"Shit!" Yoongi's tongue plunges into your heat with a new found eagerness, thrusting in and out like a man deprived. You manage to maintain eye contact this time, falling apart at the way he groans in appreciation when he tastes himself, fucking your hole with his tongue mercilessly like he wants to get every last drop of his cum.

His thumb finds your clit and the coil in your lower belly tightens too rapidly for you to comprehend, tugging on his hair as you cry out. "Yoongi!"

"Cum for me."

His permission is all it takes to have you falling over the edge into a shattering orgasm that makes your vision turn black, mind wiped of any hesitation and guilt and replaced with a single word, over and over again: Yoongi.

When you finally take a gasping breath, he's there, rubbing encouraging circles into your hips and leaving kisses across your stomach that makes something in your chest warm, heart beating a little faster and not just from your orgasm.

"So fuckin' pretty when you cum." You're sure that's what he murmurs against your damp skin. "Can't believe I had to wait this long."

You furrow your brow. Yoongi sits back against his heels, wiping your arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you a lazy but satisfied smile, looking awfully pleased with himself. Like this was his biggest dream come true.

It dawned on you that it probably was in someways -- what better way to get back at an old friend than by fucking his sister?

You suddenly feel like an idiot for letting him charm you, guilt washing through you, flying forward when your chest aches with regret.

Yoongi notices how you pale. "Are you okay? If that was too much then I'm really sorry--"

"Too much?" You suddenly feel exposed beneath his gaze, shuffling around to pull your skirt around your thighs, eyes roaming the room hurriedly for your panties so you can get out of here and quick. "This is all too much, Yoongi."

"What?" He puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you as you brush past him but the way you jolt at the touch makes him rip it away like he touched a live wire.

"I...shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."

Namjoon's face was embedded in your mind. The way his eyes would crumple with betrayal if he found out you came here at all -- let alone let Yoongi take you so intimately. And you hadn't even tried to stop yourself from falling into him, gave in to your emotions too easily and allowed Yoongi to use you as a swipe at your own brother.

"Why? Didn't seem so upset when you were coming on my tongue." The scoff in Yoongi's voice makes you freeze.

"I can't stop you from hurting Namjoon," Your lip quivers and you have to press your nails into your palms to stop the tears spilling over. "But do you really have to hurt me, too?"

"Y/N, wait--"

Your hands shake as you grab your bag and head for the door. "Shit happened between you and my brother, I get it. But we were friends once, Yoongi. Doesn't that mean anything to you? We can't see each other again."

Your tears are warm in contrast to the cold evening air as you take off into a run, needing to get as far away from Yoongi and the evidence of your own betrayal as possible.

By the time you stumble back into the Big Hit company building, the studio is empty. To your surprise, words seem to flow out of you easier than they ever had before, a heart shaped stain appearing on the formerly empty page of your notebook.

--

Sleepless nights were becoming your norm. You had barely slept a wink since that night, not when every thought was plagued with guilt, the same name running circles around your mind, the same dark eyes and swollen lips and messy hair tauntingly appearing in your mind whenever your head hit the pillow.

Yoongi.

That night with Yoongi felt something like a dream, a hazy memory, the only evidence of it being real the fact that every time you closed your eyes you could feel the way Yoongi's hands burned your skin, how his lips moved perfectly in sync with your own.

As much as you knew it was a mistake, something that should have never happened, you couldn't help the way your heart throbbed every time you replayed it over and over in your mind, repeatedly, until you felt like you were going insane with guilt. It was eating you alive. But sometimes you would remember the way you felt when he was pressed up against you and every ounce of regret felt worth it.

You hated yourself for it, and you knew your brother would hate you to, if he ever found out.

He could never find out.

So, you take to avoiding Namjoon altogether. It wasn't that hard really, you knew his schedule well enough to be a step ahead of him at all times, and it wasn't as if he was enthusiastic about your company to begin with.

Of course sometimes your paths have to cross, but you still can't look Namjoon in the eyes when you slip into one of the Big Hit practice rooms where you know you'll inevitably find him.

The music hits before you even open the door. Namjoon is dressed in casual clothes, cap pulled down low over his face as he raps into a mic, the way his voice husks a tell tale sign that this was not the first time he'd gone over the same verse.

He seems stiffer than usual, all elbows and knees as he scrutinises his own form in the wall to floor mirror. You've seen him perform this choreography flawlessly hundreds of times so your brow furrows with confusion each time his feet miss a beat or his knees literally buckle under the pressure.

On the far side of the room sits a row of men and women in formal suits. Investors, brought in to bet on the contestant most likely to win. They watch Namjoon with intent eyes, some shaking their heads in disapproval, others whispering insults below their breaths.

Is that really Runch Randa? Pfft, he'll never win with footwork like that.

Jimin stands close by, hopping from one foot to the other and wincing with every mistake Namjoon makes. He's been making desperate phone calls for the last week, pleading with any investor he could get ahold of to take a chance on Namjoon which was hard to come by after the royal media fuck up the other day at the after party.

This was Namjoon's only chance at a do over — he needed their money if he wanted to win this thing. The judges were expecting a show from him. Smoke machines and good lighting are expensive, after all.

Namjoon, however, only seems interested in the reactions of your parents sat in the back row, expressions grave. He's chastising himself, self loathing evident in his eyes every time he stutters over a lyric. He knows how hard they worked to establish Big Hit and the disappointment in their eyes as it slowly slips through Namjoon's fingers like sand makes even you feel jittery with nerves.

For a brief moment you're grateful that you are practically invisible in this room, no eyes even glancing your way as you join them. You're glad that Namjoon takes the brunt of the pressure. You never were the strong sibling after all.

The music cuts, Namjoon coming to a stand still. He crumples at the knees, forehead pressed against the polished linoleum floor as he tries to catch his breath.

Jimin slumps into a chair, head in hands. That tells you all you need to know.

Investors leave the room, some sending apologetic looks towards Jimin with a shrug. Others deposit their cheque books back into their briefcases, taking pity on the pleading smiles and firm handshakes from your parents when they apologise for Namjoon's lacking performance. One even pats Namjoon on the back, following the small crowd as they leave the room. "Take a break, buddy."

Nearly everyone has filtered out before Namjoon gets to his feet shakily, slumping down into a seat beside you. You don't acknowledge him, afraid of what you might let slip if you do, fiddling with your camera as a distraction.

It's him who breaks the silence.

"How's the song coming along?" He seems disinterested, clicking his knuckles with no real intention of listening to your response.

"Fine." Another lie. It wasn't coming along at all, really, but now is probably not the best time to tell him when his nerves are already heightened by his failure to gain any crucial investments.

His eye is still slightly swollen from the fist fight a few days ago, a permanent line forming at the bridge of his nose that wasn't there before. You almost didn't recognise him. He stares at his own broken reflection in the steamed practice room mirrors vacantly, like he doesn't  even recognise himself.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass. Namjoon's heavy breathing slows to a regular pace.

"I know you went to see him."

It echos menacingly through the room and you stiffen, clutching the floor beneath you for support. Namjoon's hard eyes still don't look your way but you see him analysing your reaction in the mirror. The way your mouth gapes speechlessly tells him everything he needs to know.

"Not even gonna try and deny it?" His head shakes in disbelief.

You throb with guilt. "H-how did you find out?"

"I have people everywhere keeping an eye on him, Y/N. You're lucky the paparazzi didn't catch you, because it sure as shit looked shady. My own sister," He scoffs around the word, as if it tastes bad in his mouth. "Siding with him?"

You place a hand on his forearm, surprised to find him shaking beneath your touch. "I'm not siding with him, Namjoon."

"Then what are you doing?" He roars, ripping his arm away.

What was I doing? You don't even know yourself.

It takes everything inside you to keep the expression on your face neutral, to wipe away the regret and the sadness and the fear that makes your voice wobble.

"We just talked." You had to avert your gaze, scared that somehow your disingenuous eyes would give away what really happened with Yoongi — a little more than talking to say the least.

"About what?"

"The secret, okay? I wanted to protect you—"

"Protect me?" Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "How is meddling in business that doesn't even concern you protecting me, Y/N?"

"Have you forgotten that what you're — we're — doing is against Mic Drop rules? That you could be disqualified or...worse! Get your trophy revoked?"

"Pfft. Yoongi won't say anything.."

"What makes you so sure?"

"It's me he wants to hurt. I know him, Y/N. He'd never forgive himself if you—" He eyes you carefully. "If anyone else got dragged into this. It's between me and him, that's it."

Your head is spinning. You remember a time when things weren't this way, back when Yoongi and Namjoon were friends. Partners. What happened between them that made them so hell bent on destroying one another?

"There are things about Yoongi that you will never understand, Y/N. Things he did that can never be forgiven."

It briefly crosses your mind that if Namjoon could cut Yoongi, his best friend, out of his life, just how easy it would be for him to do the same to you if he found out just how unforgivable your betrayal was. A funny feeling pools in your stomach, a distance settling between you and Namjoon as, to your dismay, you realise just how much you have in common with your brother's enemy.

"But what about you, huh? Why should he forgive you? You took everything from him! I'm not surprised he's back to kick your ass. If you ask me it's him who should be holding a grudge—"

Namjoon's hands clamp onto your shoulders and you recoil from the contact. You're breathing hard, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over any second.

"Listen to me. He's trying to get in your head. You need to stay away from him Y/N. He's bad news."

"Tell me why! Help me understand!"

Namjoon's face is grave. "Some secrets are best kept that way. It'll only make it worse if I tell you."

Before you can protest he's striding across the room and hitting the play button on the boom box in the corner, music blasting from the speakers again.

"Joon—"

"Just stick to taking pictures and stop getting involved in business that doesn't concern you."

Then his body is twisting across the room in time to the music with an intensity he didn't possess before. Like a machine on autopilot.

You shove your camera into your bag and let the door slam shut behind you.

--

"We were a mistake."

The cursor flashing on the empty document on your computer screen feels like it's taunting you.

"Please don't tell my brother what we did."

You've been like this for the last week. Holed up in one of the tiny studios at the Big Hit company building, head swimming with beats and melodies and lyrics that just won't seem to fit together. Not when your mind is preoccupied with a more pressing issue.

"Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?"

Yoongi.

God, how are you supposed to write this song for Namjoon when all you can think about is his enemy?

You don't know why you're still so hung up on Yoongi. It's not as if what happened between you meant anything. It was just a spur of the moment mistake. You were both tense and needed someone to help blow off some steam. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Right?

You'll never admit that deep down, a part of you wants to see him again. To check that he's real and that you didn't imagine the whole thing. To see if he is going as crazy as you feel.

That's when the answer hits you. The only way to make this right is to end things once and for all. Tie up all your loose ends and tell Yoongi that you and him were a one time thing. Make sure you were on the same page.

Then maybe you'll be able to concentrate on helping Namjoon beat his ass.

A sudden confidence grips you, standing up abruptly from your desk, alerting the attention of Hoseok who up until now has been quietly engrossed in the track he's producing.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

There's an address burning at the forefront of your mind. You have the route committed to memory. How long it'll take to get there. How long it'll take to get back before anyone else at Big Hit notices your absence.

The only place you knew where you might find Yoongi.

"I won't be gone long. Cover for me if anyone sees I'm gone, 'kay?"

Hoseok eyes you curiously and pulls his headphones to sit around his neck. "O-okay but don't you think you should take an umbrella? It's raining and you might catch a cold — oh."

You don't hear him, the door already slamming behind you.

--

In hindsight, Hoseok was probably right. You're soaked before you even get half way to Yoongi's studio.

Not that you care. Not when there are so many things you want to say to Yoongi. So many questions only he knows the answer to.

Not when you're about to see him again and you're giddy and nervous and scared of the way your heart feels like it's about to bust out of your chest.

You don't really know why you're doing this. For Namjoon's sake? To ease your own guilty conscience? Both?

You shake your head before your confidence can deflate and focus on putting two feet in front of the other instead, trying to take your mind of your destination by focusing on your surroundings. You always liked this part of town, with it's bustling roads and street vendors and buskers. Here it's easy to forget, to just close your eyes and let the buzz of cars and the melody from a nearby street guitarist and the torrent of ice cold rain whisk you away, like life is operating at double the speed but you're too caught up in your own thoughts to care.

So caught up in your own thoughts that you don't spot the guy handing out flyers on the side of the street until your face is colliding with his shoulder.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!"

The guy lets out a groan as you helplessly watch his flyers flutter to the ground like autumn leaves, disintegrating on the rain dampened street.

"Does nobody look where they're going any more? My boss is going to kill me..."

The guy gets to his knees and starts grabbing as many flyers as he can by the handful.

"I'm so sorry, at least let me help?"

You hear him sigh deeply but he doesn't stop you when you drop down beside him.

You stamp on a flyer before it can be whisked away by the breeze. It's ruined. The rain makes the ink bleed into a black blotch in the center of the sodden paper, but if you squint you can just make out the barely legible print.

Live Classical Piano - 7:30 - 9:30 Every Wednesday At The Coffee House!

A throat clears, shaking you back to reality, and a nimble hand thrusts towards you, palm up, waiting for you to deposit the pile of flyers you collected.

"Just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart? Some of us have a job to do."

Shame heats your cheeks. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'll pay for these —"

Its then, as you let your hood fall down, that the boy stiffens. You look up slowly, meeting a widened pair of piercing grey eyes for the first time. The very same eyes you haven't been able to get out of your head all week.

"Wait...Yoongi?"

It's him. He's here? A coincidence surely but it sure as shit doesn't feel like one.

Just seeing him knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Yoongi blinks a few times, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he's ripping the flyers from your slackened grip and grabbing you by the wrist, dragging you behind him to the side of the street where you're just out of view from passerby's.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He deadpans.

You take in the way his mint hair clings damply to his forehead, shirt darker in places where droplets of rain soak into the fabric. He's wearing one of those traditional pianist outfits with the funny tuxedo jacket and a little black bow tie strung around his neck that looks like it came from a bad Beethoven Halloween costume. It catches you off guard. No wonder you didn't recognise him before. Not exactly hip hop.

"What are you doing here?"

Yoongi glances over his shoulder warily. "Look, you can't tell anyone you saw me here okay? Did Namjoon send you?"

"What? No--?"

"Just leave, Y/N. Before someone sees you here and tells your precious brother that you've been hanging around with scum like me." He spits, drops your arm and starts in the direction he came from.

"Yoongi, wait!" You blurt, throwing your hands up in frustration. He freezes."Can we...can we just talk?"

Yoongi nearly does a double take. He's usually full of jibes but this catches him off guard. "Talk?"

He backtracks, though you notice the way he keeps a safe distance between you. It feels silly considering how much...closer you were just a few days ago. You wonder, as his eyes look you up and down, if he's thinking about it too. If you crossed his mind as much as he crossed yours.

"Listen, I don't have time for this, I need to go get some more of these flyers..."

Your heart drops, embarrassed for even entertaining the idea that he would want to see you again.

"Please?"

He hesitates. You're sure he's going to blow you off again but then his eyes fill with something scarily close to concern. "Shit, you're shivering."

Your hair hangs in heavy tendrils around your face, droplets of cold rain caressing your cheeks. Your knees knock, arms wrapped around the damp hoodie clinging to your torso to retain some warmth.

Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, despite the way his own teeth chatter. "You're going to catch your death dressed like that."

You stand there dumbly as he holds it out to you. He kicks a stone with the toe of his sneaker awkwardly when you finally wrap it around your shoulders.

"I thought you didn't want to see me again." It's almost accusing but you're sure you hear a trace of a pout in his voice.

"I...I didn't want to." Yoongi looks up. "But I think we should talk about you know...us."

Yoongi bites his lip, like he's having an inner debate. Like he's about to do something he knows he shouldn't.

"Fine. Let's talk. I, uh, guess I have some things I need to say to you too." He scratches the back of his neck. "But not here. Could I—would it be weird if we got coffee or something?"

Definitely weird. That's what you should say. But you don't.

"Okay."

You don't miss the way Yoongi's cheeks turn a little red.

--

The coffee shop Yoongi takes you to is a quaint little place, definitely not the sort of establishment you expected rough-around-the-edges Min Yoongi to frequent with its exposed brick walls and mint green espresso mugs with smiley faces on the side that give it a somewhat cosy appeal.

"I work here," He explains when he sees your eyes roaming. "Needed some extra cash."

You nod. Makes sense. The smell of pumpkin bread and coffee beans is still a welcome relief from the bitter chill outside.

The guy at the counter nods in greeting when Yoongi approaches, already grinding up coffee like he knows his regular order. Yoongi flashes him a tight smile. You figure they know each other, not that Yoongi seems the type to mingle within barista social circles but then again he is full of surprises today.

They share a few hushed whispers, staring not so subtly in the direction of where you sit hunched in one of the corner booths, but you just ignore it by watching a rain drop crawl down the window with rapt attention.

Words barely pass between you and Yoongi until you're both seated, him with a coffee you learn he takes black and you with a much too sugary frappe which you take to stirring with your straw nervously, chin in palm.

It's Yoongi who finally breaks the silence.

"What are you thinking?" He looks at you expectantly over the rim of his mug. For some reason it makes you nervous.

Guilt niggles at your repose. The cafe is alive with indistinguishable chatter, a coffee machine whirring loudly nearby. In reality, you merely blend in to the hubbub. But as you watch Yoongi fiddle with the rings on his fingers in anticipation of your response it's like a hush has fallen and all eyes are on you. Judging, like they know how wrong it is for you to be here.

He's been the only thing on your mind all week but now you're here in front of him it's like your mind is blank.

"Did you tell anyone?"

Yoongi blinks. "Namjoon's secret? I said I wasn't going to say anything—"

"No. Our secret. Us..." It feels foreign, referring to Yoongi and yourself as a unit. You hate to admit it makes your heart beat a little faster. "Namjoon knows."

Yoongi's coffee cup clatters to the table and words rise like bile in your throat, everything you've been bottling up inside tumbling out before you can stop it.

"Namjoon knows! He found out about us somehow and now everything has gone to shit and...I shouldn't even be telling you this! God I'm an idiot! I just don't know what to do—"

Your wailing is interrupted suddenly by a warm hand covering your own. Yoongi's hand. The touch is gentle, comforting, something about the squeeze of reassurance it provides calming your hyperventilating. It feels right.

Why does it feel right?

Yoongi must misinterpret the puzzled look you flash him as a warning he's crossing a boundary because he retracts his arm jerkily, a flush creeping up his neck.

He glosses over the weird moment hastily.

"Slow down, go back. He knows?" There's a lilt of surprise to his voice. Either he's a really good actor or he is just as panicked as you by this news. "And you think I told him?"

"Well, not exactly. He knows some of it — not everything! — he thinks that I just spoke to you after the show...I assumed you would have filled in the blanks by now."

Yoongi laughs breathily. Relieved. It flummoxes you. Shouldn't he be satisfied that his plan to get under Namjoon's skin was a success?

"Y/N, there were hundreds of people at the gig, anyone could have seen us. Jimin and Hoseok probably told him. You act like I tried to seduce you just to get revenge, or something." He gulps back the last of his coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before his expression suddenly turns serious. "You don't think that right?"

"Isn't that exactly what you did?"

Say no.

Yoongi opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He doesn't deny it.

Something in your chest twists with disappointment. It scares you shitless and you know you have to end this — whatever this is — before there's no turning back.

"Look, it — we — were a stupid mistake okay? I need to know that you're not going to use this against him. It would kill him."

"Mistake?" Yoongi's face drops. "Didn't I say you could trust me?"

It sounds somewhat pained, like he wasn't expecting you to think so lowly of him. His eyes soften with a certain gentleness now and you almost feel bad for thinking they could ever look at you with sinister intentions.

"Do you regret it? What we did?"

You hesitate. You want to say no so badly. But that's not why you came here.

Pull yourself together!

"Yes."

He raises an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No." His eyes glint. You can't breathe. "Which is exactly why I'll never say a word. I don't play that way. Fair and square remember?"

You're speechless. All you can get out is a measly oh as you stare at the coffee in your cup and process.

"What did Namjoon say anyway?"

Your fingers find the patterns carved into the surface of the wooden table top, feeling the grooves as a distraction from the embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He told me not to come back and find you."

A wry smile creeps across his face. "But you did?"

Even Yoongi is accusing you now? God, you played right into his hands. He's probably enjoying this. That you broke Namjoon's trust again, all for him.

The worst part is that you can hardly bring yourself to care. Sitting with Yoongi still feels deliciously indulgent — seeing his face again, feeling the heat of his body where your knees brush under the table finally satisfying a craving that had been growing inside you since that night in his studio.

"He doesn't control me."

He just nods. "I get that." His fingers tap in time with the sickeningly happy radio tune that plays overhead, eager to change the subject, like he's aware that he already said too much. "How is Namjoon anyway? You written him a song yet?"

Not allowed. If any information gets leaked about Namjoon's Mic Drop stage the first person he'd blame was you. You had to keep your lips tightly sealed.

You shrink back into your seat. "You know I can't tell you that."

"Okay, then." Yoongi throws his arms over the back of his chair, a cheekiness in his voice, like he's testing the waters to see how you'll react. "Ask me something instead. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Shoot."

That's allowed, right? Where's the harm. If it doesn't involve Namjoon then it can't hurt him...

"Okay..." You purse your lips, eyes travelling around the dimly lit coffee shop. "Why do you work...here?"

Yoongi nods to the stack of damp flyers beside him. Live classical piano. "I play piano here sometimes." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. It's kinda cute. "Needed some spare cash and this was the only place that could take me at such short notice."

"You play piano?"

He nods and you follow his gaze to the grand piano stood unoccupied in the corner. You imagine how Yoongi would look bent over the keys. How his fingers would move across the instrument with concentrated precision. How the tune would mingle with the warmth of the coffee shop on a cold evening.

"I didn't know you like classical music?"

"I don't. Not really." He cocks his head, finding the right words. "Namjoon has investors right? People who just throw money at him?" You nod, somehow ashamed. "Teaching me to play piano was my mom's investment in me. She always said it might come in handy some day."

You nod. "And do you have to wear that stupid costume every time?"

"This?" A snort leaves you when he shoots you a look, a shy smile finding the curve of his lips. "Don't mean to brag but it's a huge hit with the older ladies."

You can't help but laugh when he smugly tugs at the bow tie around his neck, unable to miss how his eyes light up. You share a smile that makes you feel light headed.

"I'd have to see it to believe it."

"Well, you know where to find me if you're ever bored and need a good laugh on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday evening." He shifts in his seat. "Or you could just come back to my place, y'know if you wanted to —" You frown, the easiness that had settled between you dissipating as you both sense the inappropriateness of his suggestion. "I know I shouldn't ask, it's just I have a piano and—"

For some reason the rational part of your brain taps out and your heart says fuck it.

"I'd love to."

--

"So, where do you live?" You ask when you finish your drink and nervously copy Yoongi who is already getting to his feet.

"Oh about that...I live in the apartment upstairs actually." He chuckles sheepishly."Cheap rent, you know?"

It takes you by surprise but you don't press.

"Oh. Right."

Yoongi extends a hand towards you. The thud in your chest gets faster when you slide your palm into his and he pulls you behind him to the foot the stairway you had disregarded upon entry, the distressed baby blue door at the top labelled RESIDENTS ONLY seeming strangely inviting.

Yoongi gestures for you to go first and you've barely ascended three steps before a voice rings out behind you, making you freeze like a child caught in a mischievous act.

"Use protection you two! And close the door so that Odengie's innocence isn't compromised this time!"

The barista from before rounds the corner, a tray of empty mugs in his left hand and a cloth for wiping down tables in the other.

You suppress a laugh. "Odengie?"

"His goddamn sugar glider—" He says it more to himself rather than in response to your query, flashing the tousled haired boy an exasperated look. "Really, bro?"

The other man either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "What? He's too young to learn how baby sugar gliders are made." His eyes suddenly flit to you and, as if remembering his manners, he deposits the cloth onto a nearby table and reaches a damp hand through the staircase to shake yours with a friendly smile. "I'm Jin, by the way."

You take it cautiously, wiping your now wet hand on the back of your jeans. "Nice to meet you?"

"Come on," Yoongi is flushed red as he pushes you up the rest of the stairs with a pressure at the small of your back. "We'll be back down in a minute, chill okay?"

Yoongi shoulders his way into the apartment, pulling you across the threshold alongside him, but not before you catch a glimpse of Jin's teasing grin poking around the staircase, words reaching your ears before Yoongi could slam the door shut in time.

"Oh, so it's a quickie? Have fun!"

A laugh escapes your lips, Yoongi pressing his back to the door with a sigh of relief. "Sorry about him. He's my roommate. Kind of came with the apartment, you know?"

You glance around at the small maisonette that unfolds before you curiously. It feels more like a dorm room, a mismatch pile of shoes piled at the entry way, a pair of beanbags substituting a couch surrounding a small gaming set up littered with empty pizza boxes you presume belong to Seokjin.

"Ah. He's part of the furniture then."

The other corner of the room is littered with an assortment of vinyls strewn out beside a pair of speakers and a record player, the needle still hovering over the grooves of an album by an artist you don't recognise. Yoongi's touch to the decor, you suppose.

"Guess you could say that. He's not so bad once you get over the uh...small rodents."

You trail behind Yoongi into what you assume is his bedroom, if the frameless mattress which lay on the floor in the corner beneath the window with sheets unmade and strewn across the floor messily was anything to go by.

He flicks on the set of fairy lights tacked to the wall, a surprisingly homely touch that makes you think Yoongi isn't as cold as you believe him to be.

Yoongi approaches a clothes rack stuffed with a variety of stage outfits. "Here." He pulls an oversized hoodie from one of the hangers, throwing it at you from across the room. "You're clothes are still wet. Wouldn't want to catch a cold. You can wear this until they dry."

"O-Okay." You stand there dumbly. He isn't expecting you to strip right in front of him, is he?

He seems to sense your hesitance, turning around so his back is to you with wide eyes. He plays it off by grabbing a selection of clothing for himself, shuffling past you with eyes trained to the ground. "I'll use the bathroom. Tell me when you're done."

You are soaked through to your underwear but you leave them on since Yoongi probably didn't have a spare pair of panties laying around you could borrow. The fabric of his hoodie is soft and warm when it slips over your otherwise bare skin and you breath in the woody scent that seems to embrace your entire body, ignoring the way it makes your head dizzy, and roll up the large sleeves to free your hands before calling to him that you are done.

When he re-enters the room, pulling a grey beanie over his head haphazardly to match the much more Yoongi appropriate outfit of a simple white tee and sweats, his breath hitches at your bare legs peeking out from the bottom of the garment. His lingering stare makes you hug your torso self consciously, eyes never leaving you even as he grabs the pile of sodden clothing you discarded earlier and lays them neatly over the radiator to dry.

You practically hear the way he swallows awkwardly when his eyes lock with yours, caught in the act. He's quick to lighten the mood.

"Well...here she is."

You turn as he moves across the room to the piano occupying the opposite wall, wood stained dark but bleached slightly in places by the stream of sunlight which washes its surface from the opposite window. The stool beneath it scrapes against the scuffed floor boards when Yoongi makes enough space to seat himself on top of the blue velour cushion.

"I know it's not much — nothing like you're used to I mean, but it makes music just the same."

He must take the way you hang back near the door frame as a sign of your distaste which couldn't have been further from reality; it's simply to allow you to study the way Yoongi sits with his back perfectly straight, fingers lingering over the keys like he knows the piano as well as an old friend. And, though you'll never admit it, the way your heart thumps at the thought of being in Yoongi's most private space.

"Where did you get it?"

"It was my mother's." The breath you suck in is slightly too harsh. "Like I said earlier, she liked to play, before she..."

Died. The word never passes between his lips but it sits heavy in the air like a weight.

Yoongi's eyes avert yours so you don't press any further, instead focusing your attention to the pattern of scratches embedded into the piano's lid, unable to help the way your fingers trace the coffee cup rings littering the surface like rugged halos. "It's beautiful."

The side panel is littered with lines, carved deeply into the wood with a penknife; a makeshift height chart like the one you had on the back of your bedroom door as a kid. Your drop to your knees to squint at the nearly illegible words scrawled next to the markings that ascend almsot to the top of the instrument.

Yoongi aged 3...Yoongi aged 4...Yoongi aged 5...

All the way until Yoongi aged 7 where they stop completely.

You frown but he lets out a soft laugh, somewhat pained. "That's when she got sick. I grew up quickly after that."

Straightening up, you swallow thickly, unsure what to say, so you just settle for changing the subject instead.

"So, what can you play?"

Yoongi fiddles with the open sheet music book on the piano stand. His fingers tremble slightly as he turns the worn pages before finally settling on a sheet that is lightly crumpled and ripped around the edges and coffee stained and ferociously dog eared at the corners. Tell tale signs that he had played this piece before, over and over again.

His favourite, you perceive.

Sure, he had literally fucked you into next week already but your hands get clammy at the knowledge that Yoongi feels comfortable enough to share such an intimate tidbit about himself with you. Music means a lot to him after all. Anyone can see that.

You catch a glimpse of the piece over his shoulder.

Romeo and Juliet - Love Theme.

Yoongi notices how you raise a brow at his choice.

"I know I said I don't like classical music but this arrangement is different. You know the story right?"

High school had given you enough general knowledge about Romeo and Juliet for you to nod in confirmation.

"It's like you can feel the passion they have for each other in every note, you know? Like nothing could ever come between them."

His words are so earnest they make your heart ache. You hadn't put him down as the hopeless romantic type.

"I mean not really. They still die in the end." You counter. He frowns.

"But only because of their fucked up families. It's their feud that comes between them in the end. This piece comes before all the shitty parts. If you play it over and over again it's like they never stop loving one another."

His hands fold in his lap and he sucks in a bashful breath, nose scrunching with embarrassment at his dramatic outburst. "It's stupid. I know. Forget I said it."

"No, no I understand completely. Maybe if they weren't so busy fighting they could have listened to their hearts. Right?"

"Right." He scoots across the piano stool, patting the empty space beside him with an encouraging look. "Sit."

Like a magnet you find yourself drawn to his side, shivering when his shoulder brushes yours. His arms hover over the piano, poised and relaxed, concentration etched into the hard lines of his face.

"Ready?"

You can only nod. And then he starts to play.

Yoongi's fingertips eagerly caress the keys of his piano, eyes lifting from the sheet music to gauge your reaction while his hands carry the melody on autopilot, the pretty silver rings he dons glinting with every movement. His neck is bent slightly, allowing his head to bob and sway along with the rise and fall of the rhythm, eyes screwing shut as the composition reaches its most pivotal sequence.

He's practically raking the keys now, pure passion and violent emotion splashing every inch of the room. You shut your own eyes, hands clutching the bottom of the stool until your knuckles whiten, like you might float away with the beautiful tune if you don't ground yourself.

When he said you could feel passion with every note he wasn't wrong. You could feel his passion clear as day.

Slowly, he comes back down from his high, wrists coming to a standstill. All he can do is take in heaving, ragged breaths, body slumped down, spent with the sheer effort expelled in his performance. Oxygen is lodged in your own lungs as you take in how how his bangs stick to the beads of sweat prevalent on his forehead

You recover before he does, unconsciously fumbling around in your tote bag, hands curling around the Polaroid camera you bring everywhere just in case a photo opportunity arises.

They never usually do. Until now.

"Stay like that." The viewfinder raises to your eye and you snap a shot of him with precision, the soft click that emanates through the room making Yoongi's eyes snap open.

The picture dispenses from the camera, black square fading out to reveal a hazy image as you shake it back and forth. Yoongi, face relaxed, lashes pressed softly to the tops of his cheeks with a lazy smile.

It's the Yoongi you remember. Your Yoongi.

He smirks when you slide it into the back pocket of your jeans, cheeks glowing with a contentedness you hadn't seen for a long time. "You always did like taking pictures of me."

"Shut up."

When your hand tentatively closes over his where it still rests on the piano, it's his turn to shoot you a curious look. With a shaky breath you flip his palm, slotting your fingers together perfectly, and lean across the piano to press your lips against his.

His mouth is softer than you remember, not attacking with the rich taste of lust but rather caressing your lips gently, sweetly. Taking your time to commit each tickle of breath against your nose, each slide of his bottom lip between yours, to memory. Everything other than the dizzying sensation of his tongue tracing your bottom lip disappears. All your worries, reluctances, regrets,  just dissolving like the setting sun.

Everything feels safe here with him. Everything feels right.

It barely lasts a minute, not much more than a delicate brush really, but when he pulls back you are already breathless, immediately starved of the satisfaction that came from finally feeling him against you again, tasting the spearmint mixed with something so inherently Yoongi you didn't quite realise how much you were craving.

Yoongi sighs blissfully. You need more.

Your hands tangle in the front of his T-shirt but before you can pepper his mouth with a series of further eager kisses, his free hand plants on your shoulder and pushes you back carefully.

"About what you said the other night." His eyes are wide with concern, trained to your lips, resisting the urge to capture them again with all his self control. It made your heart flip. "I don't want to hurt you Y/N. We don't have to do this—"

"I want to. So bad." His thumb caresses your knuckles. "I trust you."

In that moment, it's true. You trust him more than you've ever trusted anything in the world.

"But Namjoon..."

His words fade out when you lean in for another reassuring peck. Namjoon's name falling from Yoongi's lips doesn't make your skin crawl like it usually did. In fact you feel nothing at the mention of your brother.

"To hell with Namjoon. I'm a big girl. I know what I want."

Yoongi grins, hand coming to cup your cheek tentatively, eyes crinkling with what you could only describe as liberation. "And what's that?"

Your eyes narrow in on his parted mouth again.

"You."

His eyes darken and then his hands are tangling in your hair and pulling your chest flush to his in a kiss that is far rougher than before. No more beating around the bush. Just passion as you crawl into his lap and kiss him like it's the first time — or perhaps, more accurately, the last time. Like the world will end if you part for a single breath.

Fingers find the hem of his shirt and you're pulling it up his torso greedily, heart beating a little faster when you feel his warm skin beneath your fingertips. His chest is softer than you expect, a perfect contrast to the strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back to his lips.

It's not long before you feel his pants fill out underneath you. The feeling is all too familiar, reminding you of how it felt to be above him like this in his studio. That night feels like a life time away as his hands grab your hips and press you roughly down onto his crotch.

You both groan out at the feeling, something intense, something primal, heating up between your legs as you circle his clothed length, want and need blending into one as your core dampens with every twist of your hips.

Yoongi breaks away from your lips with a gasp when your fingers reach between your body and find the sensitive head of his cock, a wet patch forming on his sweats. His eyes are shut, head thrown back against the piano top as he bites into his thumb to stop little moans tumbling from his swollen lips.

He shoots upright when you slide down his torso, hardwood cold against your bare knees, fingers fumbling with the strings of his pants. When you finally get them open and slip your hand beneath the waistband, Yoongi all but groans at the feel of your cool palm grabbing his hot cock skin on skin.

You shimmy his sweats around his thighs, mouth practically watering as you eye up his pulsing length, unable to resist stroking it firmly with your fist. A hand covers yours.

"Wait!" A strangled noise of agony rips from his chest when your grip loosens, desperate to buck up into your touch but managing to stay firmly planted to the stool in favour of gaining your consent. "Are you sure?"

You scoff teasingly. "Would I be on my knees if I wasn't?"

His laugh is breathy, half a moan as you pick up your pace again. "Just nervous — ah!" A soft kitten lick to the reddened tip of his cock has him flying forward, knuckles white as they grip your shoulder.

"Min Yoongi gets nervous?" The precum that coats your tongue is salty, makes you itch to take him into your mouth fully.

"Shut up." His breathing is ragged, hands hovering over your hair. "Didn't think this would happen again. Needs to be perfect — holy fuck Y/N."

You give no warning before you sink down on his length, his hands finally tangling in your hair and tugging lightly when your nose presses to his pubic bone, groaning around him when you feel the head of his cock pulsing in the back of your throat.

"So warm, shit."

You come up for air, lips wrapping around his head and enjoying the way his thighs trembled when your tongue runs teasingly along the underside of his cock. His hand pushes at the back of your head, forcing his length further down your throat than you're expecting until you gag around his girth.

"Shit, sorry."

The groan that follows doesn't sound very apologetic though. The visual of your drool coating his painfully hard length mixed with the sensation of your warm mouth engulfing him whole nearly has him blowing his load then and there, utterly fucked out and oblivious to the string of groans leaving his lips when you finally come up for air. Tears streak your cheeks and Yoongi wipes them away with his knuckle tenderly.

"God, look at you." He's breathless, amazed. "C'mere."

A hand cups your elbow, pulling you to your feet so he can connect your lips again, humming when he tastes himself on your tongue. His hands are all over you now as he wraps you in his arms and stumbles backwards your back is pressed to the mattress in the corner. It dips in the middle when he crawls over you, tucking away strands of hair that fan around your face like a halo before his mouth is on you again like he can't quite help himself.

A series of open mouthed kisses caress your jaw, then your neck, all the way down your chest. Yoongi's eyes flick up to watch your face, lips parted with want as his hands fiddled with the hem of his own much too big hoodie swaddling your body.

"Can I?"

Your hand threads into his hair encouragingly. "Please."

A gasp passes his lips when he finally pulls the fabric over your head, eyes following his curious calloused hands as they explore the expanse of skin exposed to him now you're left in just your bra and panties.

"So beautiful." He traces his fingers down your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach. The light and delicate touches have you shivering, writhing for more. Almost as desperate to feel him everywhere as he is to worship every inch of you.

His touch stops at the hem of your panties. You're already working on the clasp of your bra, a violent nod the only permission he needs to drag the fabric agonisingly slow down your legs, unhooking them from your ankles carefully.

When he looks back up you are completely bare, laid out beneath the stream of half-sun-half-moon bathing the room.

Yoongi pounces, lips wrapping around one of your nipples greedily, tongue swirling around the hardened bud until you're gasping his name over and over.

"Can't believe you're letting me see you like this."

Hands wrap around your thighs, legs falling open, the way he licks his lips as he takes in your glistening heat not going unnoticed.

Yoongi's head shakes in disbelief, mumbling words which sound an awful lot like so pretty and fucking gorgeous as his head dips and he continues his trail of earlier kisses, tongue laving over your inner thighs and edging ever closer to your aching core.

"W-wait." Yoongi freezes and comes up to meet your face. His breath is hot against your cheek, eyes scanning your face for hesitation.

"What is it? Are you okay?" He's frantic, swallowing nervously as his palms cup your face. "Want to take care of you this time. What is it? Tell me."

"I'm fine. More than fine." You brush your noses together. It makes him smile. "Just want to feel you, that's all. Now."

Yoongi lets out a dramatic sigh, voice high and whiny. "But I've been dreaming about how you taste for days, Y/N. Literally. Dreaming about it."

You don't mention how you've been replaying the visual of his lips wrapped around your clit and edging you over and over again since it happened, just stroke his cheek in mutual understanding.

"Too bad. You'll just have to wait until next time." His features light up at the promise of a next time. Another moment like this, just you and him.

His face falls into the crook of your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin teasingly as a hand trails between your legs. When the pads of his fingers circle your entrance you whimper, clit throbbing with want when his hand pulls away nearly as quick as it came.

The want only intensifies when he brings two of his arousal coated digits to his mouth with closed eyes, guttural moan vibrating your flush chests when he savours the taste of your arousal coating his fingers.

"Next time." He hums and you are sure you nearly came untouched.

"Need you. Now."

He wastes no time taking his achingly hard cock into his fist, placing a supportive hand on your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. You whine when he drags the tip up and down your slit, giving some brief but much needed stimulation to your clit.

Before he can push inside though you place a hand on his chest to stop him. He doesn't have time to dote on you again though because without further ado you're whipping off the beanie that still sits snugly around his head, throwing it across the room with a smirk.

His eyes glint fondly. "Whoops."

The room has grown darker by now, only lit by the gentle sparkle of the fairy lights and Yoongi has to feel around in the sheets to find your hand. In the same moment he tangles your fingers together beside your face, he pushes inside with a gasp.

Unlike the first time in his studio, Yoongi is in no rush. He wants to savour it. He fills you slowly, so that you can feel every ridge of his length dragging against your velvety walls. When he finally bottoms out and your hips press flush together, you squeeze his hand. Tight. It's this small action that tells him everything he needs to know. Explains the funny feeling in your chest without ever saying the words.

Your legs wrap around his back automatically when his hips begin to rock, angling your body so that he hits so deep with every thrust it steals the breath straight from your lips. Arousal drips from your heat down onto the bed sheets, making each slide deliciously smooth.

"Yoongi I.." It almost slips from your lips. The deepest, darkest secret that you haven't quite admitted to yourself yet.

Yoongi just ups his pace, exchanging words for actions to show you he feels the same. Fucking you a little harder, a little deeper. More sincerely. It compensates for the words neither of you know how to say.

"I know." You feel so full, so warm when he places his forearms at either side of your head to press you into the mattress. "I know."

All the yearning inside you disappears. All that matters is you and Yoongi now, nails scratching up his back, his forehead pressing to yours so that your moans mingle together until you can't tell whose was whose any more.

With a fucked out moan against your lips he's spilling inside you, sending you over the edge with him, hissing as you clench tightly around his cock.

All thoughts are wiped from your mind. Apart from the sensation of his cheek pressed to your chest, hot breath against your collar bone. How you can't believe you lived in a world without Yoongi in it. How you never want to go without him again. How you don't think you can deny how Yoongi makes you feel anymore even if you tried.

The stars behind your eyes fade, and when you come back down, Yoongi is hovering over your body, lips parted and eyes blown out, mesmerised. He's sweaty and smiling and you can feel the way his heart beats in time with yours.

"You okay?"

"Never better." His smile stretches into a grin when your words slur together. "—'m so happy."

A soft, chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead and before you know it Yoongi is tangling your legs together and wrapping the sheets around your bodies, entwined as one.

Me too. You knew that's what he meant. You'd dwell on it another time. For now your eyes are falling shut, satisfied as you inhale Yoongi's scent on the sheets...

Before a blissful slumber could take you away, you're interrupted by a series of knocks against the bedroom door. Both you and Yoongi shoot upright, exchanging a puzzled glance.

"I thought you said it was gonna be a quickie. Come on man, I need to use the bathroom!"

Yoongi groans into the pillow.

"That's it. I'm getting a new roommate."

--

As the weeks go by you start spending less and less time at the Big Hit office, turning up late to your shifts or clocking out before they were up. The perks of being employed by your parents is that they can't fire you in good conscience, you suppose.

Instead you increasingly find yourself at Yoongi's apartment, writing lyrics at the piano when he was around (sometimes even when he wasn't) or down in the coffee shop, helping yourself to hot chocolate refills on your work breaks. Jin joked that you'd need to start paying rent soon.

Just like how you were able to pick apart each of the boys' influence on the apartment the first time you went there, your own presence was becoming ever apparent.

In the way you spilled sugar on the counter when making tea and always forgot to clean it up, much to Jin's dismay. How some of your own hoodies and pyjama pants had begun to smell like Yoongi's washing powder, ending up folded neatly in his laundry basket and stowed away on his clothing rack like they belonged there. The way his piano top was littered with open notebooks filled with your messy scrawl and pens with the caps lost and half empty mugs stained around the rim with your chapstick.

Yoongi seemed wary at first, cautious to let you get too comfortable around him, dropping you home late at night once the lights in your house switched out and you knew it was safe to go inside.

But eventually he started to crave the little things that reminded him of you, unable to stop the smiles which crept onto his face as he loaded the dishwasher with the mugs and carried you to bed when you fell asleep at the piano stool.

Your bed. That's what you'd taken to calling it now.

Yoongi hated to admit that he was weak. When he got up on stage he was Gloss, hard faced and brazen and ruthless. But here with you, the facade he tried to uphold seemed to crumble into nothing. And the worst part was that he loved it.

Even when he was performing at the club or practicing for the competition, his thoughts always ended up wandering back to you. There were times when your schedules clashed or it was too risky to see each other or times you were simply too exhausted once you got home, falling into bed as soon as you crossed the threshold. But the knowledge that you were always there waiting for each other became the only safe place he knew and that was enough.

Of course you still had to oversee Namjoon's Mic Drop stage, it was your job after all, but that never seemed to come up when you were together. Just watching movies on his laptop or laughing at ungodly hours while you filled each other in on anecdotes that happened in the time you were apart, retreating beneath the sheets when Jin banged on the wall because it was four in the morning so would you please shut the fuck up.

For the first time in a long time you felt happy. Like you belonged somewhere that was all your own. No more answering to Namjoon or your parents. Just your own heart. And it always seemed to lead you back here to Yoongi, straight into his arms.

And as much as you hated yourself for it, you could feel your resentment for Namjoon growing. You'd be damned if you let him take this away from you, like he'd taken everything else.

Eventually, you stopped crawling through your bedroom window like a goddamn teenager and your parents stopped questioning why you never came home anymore. The cracks between you became a chasm. And right now, Yoongi was the band aid holding you together.

--

When Yoongi returns home later than usual, he's not even surprised when he ascends the stairs and find you and Jin laid out on the bean bags, already tipsy on red wine and giggling at his disgruntled expression.

That is until you take in the weary lines that had etched their way into his forehead, how his eyes look sunken and puffy. How his hands tremble against your waist when you pull him into your arms, body swaying back and forth lightly in your grasp like he could topple over any second.

You know what overworked looks like — after all, you had tended to Namjoon plenty of times when he refused to stop at his limits, barraging through them instead, a habit Yoongi also seemed to possess.

Ordered to stay on bed rest, Yoongi slumps face down into his pillow, letting out a long groan of relief when the mattress cushions his aching limbs.

You're already tucking him in, half way to the door to prepare him a hot cup of honey and lemon to soothe the husk in his throat from rapping too aggressively when his arms loop around your waist and pull you down to snuggle into the crook of your neck contentedly.

"Yoongi, let me go." It's futile, his grip is firm and he is already kicking the sheets over your body and pressing his cheek to the left side of your chest where you're sure he can hear how your heart races, a pout evident in your voice. "I want to take care of you."

"Mmf you are.." Words already slurring with the beginnings of sleep, he smiles groggily when you fall slack in his grasp and press your cheek to the top of his head in defeat. "Stroke my hair please?"

As soon as your fingers tangle in his blue locks he lets out a sigh of relief, like he'd been waiting to feel the touch all day.

Watching his face relax as he drifts off, you bask in the warmth of fulfilment singing your very nerve ending and silently wish that you can stay like this forever.

Just you and Yoongi against the world.

At some point your own eyes fall shut.

--

You're awoken by the sounds of muffled sobs.

The dark room momentarily disorientates you, heart quickening as you realise you're not in your own bed. Eventually your eyes adjust to the blackness, taking in the piano stood sturdily in the corner, breathing in the scent lingering on the pillow beneath your cheek and you're washed with a wave of comfort.

"Yoongi?" You croak.

The sheets are ripped from your body as Yoongi's form shoots upright. His bare back is damp with sweat, visible in the moonlight creeping through the slanted blinds, mattress rocking slightly with every sob that wracks his frame.

"Go back to sleep." His voice is gruff , but forcibly so and you hear the tremor lurking below the surface.

You sit up beside him. His face is buried in his palms. The sight makes your heart ache.

"Are you okay?" You're still new to this. Sure you're tangled up in his sheets most nights but you're still learning the ropes, unsure how best to comfort him. You settle for gently patting his shoulder, wincing at how cold and distant the action feels.

"I said go back to sleep." When his face emerges from between his hands you see the tell tale tracks of tears streaking his cheeks. Even when he wipes his face with the back of his palm there's a steady stream of them dripping down his chin.

"Is that what you really want?"

Yoongi presses his mouth together in a tight line, eyes black and empty as he tilts his head back and takes a shaky breath. That's when he crumbles. "Please stay."

"Oh, Yoongi." It's barely a whisper, afraid that if you speak too loud he'll shatter into a million pieces. He's like a scared kid, knees hugged to his chest as he wipes the hot tears from his eyes with a hard rub of his knuckles.

Yoongi stiffens when you fumble under the sheets to find his hand. You think he might pull away as you link your fingers with his but to your surprise he pulls your interlocked palms into his lap and squeezes so hard you feel the circulation in your fingers cutting off. The way he chokes back another sob stops you from complaining though, already cupping his cheek and tilting his face towards yours with your free hand.

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears sliding down his face and doing nothing to hide the slight tinge of red beneath them that tell you he's embarrassed to be seen like this. Vulnerable, so unlike the hard faced Yoongi you had come to know.

"Because I want to." You squeeze his hand and feel him squeeze back weakly. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Pressing his forehead to yours, Yoongi leans down and captures your lips between his own. I know, it says.

This is different to the way he usually kisses you. There's no hunger, no hands on your neck and your thighs that set you alight with desire. Just a sense of yearning, like he wants to be closer to you, the plump flesh of his lips slotting between yours like a perfect puzzle piece, slightly salty from his tears. It makes you ache all over, like you're somehow connected and sharing his pain.

He pulls away, sharp exhales tickling your face as he scans your eyes for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you're going to leave him here alone. This is side of Yoongi that you have never seen before. He always said he isn't good with words and you know better than anyone that he hated admitting that he needed someone. This was is his way saying he needs you.

And in that moment you feel a piece of your heart flutter into his hands.

"Nightmares." He mumbles, swallowing thickly and tipping his head back against the headboard, expression pained "Just nightmares."

"Want to talk about it?" You sit back next to him, and when he rolls his neck to face you. He looks unreadable again. Eyes void. You half think he's going to push you away, turn over and fall back asleep and leave you to stare at the ceiling alone with the silence.

But he doesn't. Instead he lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head at himself as he pulls you into his arms, stroking your cheek fondly when your head comes to rest on his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

"Why can't I say no to you?"

"Guess I have that affect on people."

He snorts lightly, the first proper reaction he'd given you and you're pleased at his amusement. Pleased you were able to comfort him somewhat.

Unspoken words cloak a heavy silence for what feels like hours, just tracing mindless patterns on his arm and listening to the way his heart slows to a normal pace beneath your cheek, grip around your torso never faltering. When his breaths dwindle to soft puffs against your temple you think he's already drifted off.

Until, "Do you remember when I convinced Namjoon to sign up for Mic Drop the first time. The day after my mom died?" His voice is gravelly, both with sleep and a sign of his withheld tears.

"Of course I do." You swivel in his arms to blink up at him curiously. Sure you remembered. After the funeral, your parents had taken Yoongi in — a repayment they called it. For helping Namjoon achieve his dreams. Of course, that was before you realised just how much Yoongi would help.

Yoongi became a part of the family for a short while. An extra seat at family dinners. Another pair of shoes by the front door. Another bed in Namjoon's room.

"Back then, I was too trusting. I thought that they wanted to help me...I thought that they saw me as their son." He spits the word with the bitterness of a man who was stripped of the title of 'son' before he knew what it really meant.

You think back to how Namjoon and Yoongi used to be. Joined at the hip, everyone used to say. Brothers.

"I think they did—"

"No." He stiffens. You bite your lip. "Namjoon never cared about me. He just saw me as a way to get to the top. And it worked."

You feel a pang in your chest.

"I'm sorry, he's your brother. I shouldn't be talking about this with you."

Yoongi almost turns away but you stop him by pressing your lips to his briefly. Telling him its okay. You understand.

"The nightmares." You say with an eagerness to change to subject before you could dwell on it too hard. Before you could admit to yourself that Yoongi was right. "You didn't say what they were about?"

"I'm getting there." He lets out a strained chuckle and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The action makes you shiver.

"The last time I saw my mother she said that she wasn't scared to die. She was just scared that she'd miss seeing me on the stage. She was the only one who believed in me." The next words come out choked. "She said that if she couldn't be there to see it then I needed to make as many goddamn people watch me lift that trophy as I could."

Mic Drop was never about the fame for Yoongi after all. It always ran deeper than that; a need not a want. A vulnerable promise left unfulfilled.

The realisation makes you blanch. All this time, all these years, you hadn't been able to see the real greed right in front of your eyes; your own brother.

The image of Yoongi, crumpled and broken on that fateful day all those years ago makes its way to the forefront of your mind.

The same anger flashes across his face now. "Namjoon took that from me. I don't care about the fans or the money or the trophy — none of that shit! He took my dream Y/N. Do you understand how that feels?"

You find yourself nodding, slowly at first and then with vigour as the dam inside you breaks and your own tears flood. "I do. I understand."

And you do. You understand why Yoongi is so determined to win Mic Drop. You understand why he hates Namjoon as much as he does. You understand how it feels to always fall second best to Namjoon, to be outcasted.

"I keep forgetting her face. I can't hear her voice in my head anymore." Yoongi's crying again now, heavy sobs no longer able to be contained. "But in the dreams she's so clear. The disappointment in her eyes, its so clear, Y/N." His words are interrupted by hiccups that leave him gasping.

"I'm sorry." You whisper once he calms. It's all you know how to say.

"Not your fault." He flashes you a watery smile, wiping away the tear on your cheek with his knuckle. It makes your heart flutter, even despite the guilt weighing on your shoulders.

You feel useless. It wasn't your fault directly but you couldn't help but feel like you wronged Yoongi. All of this happened right in front of your eyes but you were too blinded by Namjoon's broken promises to see it. All this time you had let Namjoon make you think Yoongi was the enemy.

"I'm here now." Hands plant on either side of his face, eyes meeting his. "I believe in you."

He doesn't need to say anything. The way he kisses you speaks louder than words.

All you can do now is hold him, tangling your legs with his and pulling the covers over your intertwined bodies, stroke his cheek with your thumb and pepper kisses to his strained forehead which relaxes beneath your affections.

"I'll make this right." You whisper into his hair after his eyes flutter closed and the sun starts peeking through the window, watching dust particles floating in a stream of light in the room's golden glow through lidded eyes. "I promise."

--

"I like this." Jimin nods enthusiastically along to the track playing through the headphones Namjoon placed over his ears. "Sounds like a hit to me."

Namjoon's face contorts into a scowl. He disagrees, obviously, if the disgusted shake of his head is any indication.

Mic Drop is just a few days away and Namjoon had decided to scrap his entire stage after Jimin scored a couple big last minute investors who suggested he do something new, something exciting. Something that pushed Runch Randa's limits.

It was a bold move, this close to the big day. But Namjoon was cocky, said that he had enough experience in the industry to win in his sleep. Practice was a waste of time anyway.

"Next one." He waves his hand, barely even glancing in your direction as you press a button that cuts off the track and makes another one start playing.

The bass is louder in this one and it makes Jimin startle backwards, the headphone jack slipping loose so the music plays through the speakers instead.

"Hoseok and I still need to put the finishing touches on this one but it's pretty catchy—"

Namjoon cuts you off with a sharp no, it was too upbeat for his Mic Drop performance. Said he needed something with grit, something that would make the judges feel something.

"Let me see that." He gestures for you to get up, slumping down into the chair you occupied and slotting himself beneath the studio desk to scroll through the open folder on the computer screen.

He skims through countless tracks, demoed and ready to be recorded at Namjoon's disposal — you were something of a writing machine, always scribbling down lyrics on receipts from the store or on the back of your hand and paired with Hoseok you were a dream team; he always seemed to find a beat that fit perfectly. Unfortunately Namjoon's straight face gives away his disinterest in any of them.

"None of these will work." Namjoon throws the keyboard down with a force that makes you wince, jaw tightening as he presses his knuckles to his eyes in frustration. "I'm going to fucking lose."

You are about to tell him to write the fucking track himself like everyone else if none of yours were good enough for him but Jimin flashes you a glance. Don't make things worse.

You settle instead for a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at your touch. It had been a while since you'd been in the same room for longer than ten minutes and when you take in the gauntness of his cheekbones you briefly wonder if he's been eating properly. He always did forget when you weren't around to remind him.

You suck in a breath to give you strength. "There must be one that you like."

His lips purse and he disgruntledly goes back to scrolling again, clicking on a couple titles that draw his interest. You and Jimin let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"What's this?" Namjoon's eyes narrow as he presses play on a track that sends you flying forward, heart in your mouth and colour leaving your face as a song plays that you swore to never show to anyone.

Yoongi's song. The one you wrote after that night in his studio. Probably the best song you had ever written.

"That's not — I was supposed to delete that one." The heat in your cheeks as you push him aside roughly to wrestle with the pause button has you hiding behind your hair, as if he would somehow know this wasn't just an ordinary song. That it was a song about his enemy, for god's sake.

Namjoon's slaps you away from the computer, head bobbing to the beat and you fall back into your seat in defeat, fingers crossed behind your back that he would hate it as much as the others.

"I love it."

Oh no.

"This is the one!"

Shit shit shit!

"A-are you sure?" You're rambling now, words slipping out way too fast and Jimin seems puzzled at your lack of elation at Namjoon's decisiveness. "I'm sure I could write something much better if you just give me some more time—"

Namjoon's arms pull you into a tight embrace before you can finish, your nose ending up smushed against his chest as he practically vibrates with excitement. Your body goes stiff, hands dangling at your sides awkwardly. Considering Namjoon's coldness towards you as of late his sudden display of affection takes you by surprise. Mostly because despite your physical closeness it only makes you feel even more distant from your brother.

A sigh of relief escapes when he finally sets you free, only to be replaced with pure horror as you watch him stick a USB drive into the computer and load up the song before sliding it in his back pocket with a grin while you have no choice but to stand there helplessly.

"I'm totally gonna win!" His change in attitude is abrupt but seems to soothe Jimin who nods enthusiastically. You feel sick. "I can't wait to see the look on Yoongi's face when he hears this shit."

The smirk on his face washes you with dread. If only he knew.

Yoongi was right. Secrets always find a way to come and bite you in the ass.

--

Every rap of your knuckles against the run down studio door seems to echo ominously through the alley like an omen.

"Y/N?"

As soon as the bolt wrangles across and the wooden panel flies open to reveal a disgruntled Yoongi, a warmth seems to thaw through the icy evening chill that, along with your nerves, is making your knees knock together.

His chest is warm against your cheek when he pulls you into his arms, the smell of cologne and black coffee consuming your senses. It's enough to make your tense limbs fall slack, curling into his firm frame instinctively. Finally. You can breathe again.

"Hey." He mumbles sweetly against your temple, a trace of a smile in his voice like he was happy to see you. You silently wonder if he'll still be so happy once he hears what you have to say.

The studio is basked in darkness, the contours of his face barely visible in the blue glow emanating from his desktop monitor. There's a dent in the cushion of the adjacent chair, Yoongi's hair sticking up at the back where the pair of headphones slung around his neck had sat moments ago.

"I can go if you were working, wouldn't want to interrupt." As the words are leaving your lips you cross your fingers, selfishly hopeful that he would send you away and you could avoid the conversation that was about to follow. Blame it all on circumstance, leave saying that you at least tried.

But that would be keeping a secret. It would make you just as bad as the rest. And the thought of him finding out from someone else was enough to make your palms sweat and enough to keep your feet planted against the carpet determinedly.

Yoongi's hands find you like he can't bare to keep them away, dragging you across the threshold without hesitation. "S'fine. Work better with you here anyway." He smiles and you try to return it but your lips are pressed into a permanent line, like they're scared the daunting words you have to say will come spilling out before you were ready -- if you ever would be ready. As you slump into a chair and watch him wheel another one around to face you with his arms slung lazily over the back, you realise there is no going back.

Considering the countdown to Mic Drop was nearing its end, less than twenty four hours to go before Yoongi would be stood opposite Namjoon on stage in front of thousands, he looked the epitome of relaxation, unlike the nerves in your chest making you jitter.

"Jin's on his way with takeout, I would've asked him to get more if I knew you were coming but I'm sure we can share— babe, are you alright?"

Babe. The endearment had started slipping from his lips frequently recently. At first he tried to cover it up with nervous laughter but now he was brazen, enjoying the way the word tasted on his tongue. It would be so easy to force a smile, to push "the right thing" to the back of your mind and let the selfish part of your heart accept his affections, even knowing you're about to hurt him.

But the clock ticking away on the wall sounds deafening with every beat of silence that follows, twisting the rings on your fingers until you could no longer distinguish the sound from the sinister thrum of your heart.

You can't hold it in any more.

"I need to tell you something." It comes out a hoarse whisper, nearly unintelligible beneath the stream of hip hop from the hifi system in the corner.

"What is it?" Yoongi's concerned eyes never leave you as he reaches over to switch it off, the room now draped in a shroud of quiet. The reality of the situation seeps into every dark corner and right into your bones.

"It's about us. Kind of."

Yoongi rolls closer, stopping your teeth from nibbling your cuticles by slotting his fingers between yours like a perfect puzzle piece. It seems to ground you, like you're filled with helium and he's the weight stopping your feet from floating off the ground. For a second you think everything will be okay. Nothing, not even this betrayal, could come between what you had.

"Did Namjoon find out?" Even in the dim light you see the panic stricken raise of his brows. When your head shakes in a violent negative they smooth back down, relieved, as if nothing you could say next would be worse than that. No matter how hard you try to meet his eyes you can't.

His hand squeezes gently then. You muster up the courage to squeeze back. Perhaps it would soften the blow that was about to follow.

"His song. The one I wrote for Mic Drop...it's about you. I thought you should know. Before you hear it for yourself."

Nothing but an immeasurable silence followed. "Oh."

Yoongi is unreadable, almost as if he didn't hear the words hanging like heavy storm clouds over your heads. You expected him to be angry, to shout -- even cry, maybe. Not knowing how he was feeling was even worse than any scenario you had imagined. Made you feel like you were back to square one and he was shutting you out of the window into his soul you'd worked so hard to wriggle through.

For a second you think the sudden cold against your palm is a result of the numbness coursing through your veins like you were dunked in ice water, but then you see his hand retreat to his lap, eyes wide and staring at it in disbelief like he'd been scalded.

"I...I don't understand." He sounds choked, face contorting with pain. Like it does when he wakes thrashing in the night with a bad dream. Unlike those times though, he doesn't levitate towards you for comfort, just stares at you vacantly like he's far, far away despite being physically close enough for your knees to brush.

"It was written after the first time we...y'know...here--" You glance around, convinced your mind is playing tricks when you see a vision of you in Yoongi's lap across the room, lips attached like nothing else in the world mattered. It feels far away and out of reach when the real Yoongi gets to his feet, creating a distance between you that is foreign, his form staggering across the room so that you could see the way his back tensed beneath his t-shirt when he grips the edge of his desk for support, processing.

"I don't understand."

"I was emotional. It just happened--"

"No. What I don't understand is why you're letting him perform it?" Fists send a stack of sheet music flying to the ground. His lip trembles, face red, with anger or affliction, you can't tell which.

"Yoongi--" You reach for him, fingertips barely grazing his arm before he's smacking you away with a violent shake of his head. He'd never resisted you before. Not even in the beginning.

"You expect me to just sit back and listen to Namjoon of all people rapping the lyrics my girlfr-- that you wrote dissing me? This has to be a fucking joke."

"It's not that kind of track!" You hug your body pitifully. It's the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling apart as his mouth spits a venom that makes your heart shatter. His eyes fill with one thing. Betrayal. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't keep choosing between you anymore, Yoongi. He's my brother."

"And what am I, huh?"

Every second that passes, every stutter or attempt at explanation that leaves your mouth makes Yoongi crumple. You see it in the way his adam's apple bobs, how his shoulders slacken.

For some reason you can't open up. Tell him he means more to you than anyone ever had. That you thought your heart might really break and bleed out on the carpet if he didn't feel the same way.

Instead you settle for, "Why are you so mad? It's my job! I had no choice."

Without warning he's rushing at you, trembling palms capturing your face and pressing his forehead to yours. His breaths shake, chest heaving as he battles internally with the words flying from his lips like a ghostly breath across yours.

"Because I fucking love you, Y/N! Can't you see it? I fucking love you and your bastard of a brother always finds a way to ruin things between us!"

His admission stuns you, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over in a silent stream down your cheeks.

He loves you. He loves you.

"Yoongi--" Words just won't come. Nothing feels right.

Because you love him too. It had taken you this long to admit it to yourself but it was clear now. Every breath, every beat of your heart, every fucking song you would ever write was for him. It scared you before but now, stood here in front of him, you know it's true.

Something hopeless niggles at the back of your head, stops you from spilling everything to him. If he loves you, how can he expect you to choose?

If words couldn't make him see the truth then you'd just have to show him the only way you knew how. Straight from your heart.

You're crying as you dig around in the bottom of your bag to retrieve a USB, pressing it into his curled fist firmly and begging him with your eyes to understand. "Just listen to the song. Please. It'll explain everything. I promise."

You begin to back up and his hand shoots out to stop you, pulling you roughly into his chest which only makes you cry harder, tears creating a wet patch on his T-shirt.

"Please don't leave me. Not again." It's a fragile whisper.

It's all too much.

"I can't choose any longer, Yoongi. This has to end."

With one last look at his crumpled face you flee from his studio with eyes just as watery as the first time you'd walked down this very alley. Except this time it takes all of your strength to resist running back into his arms.

Yoongi can only stand there and watch you go, the USB hot against his hand.

This has to end. The words make his chest burn and he hates it. Hates feeling weak. You always make him feel so fucking weak.

If he can't have you then he had no choice but to do everything in his power to make sure he got the next best thing.

Suddenly it all seemed clear. Yoongi knew what he had to do.

--

The arena is almost desolate when you creep inside.

Just a sea of empty seats stretching out from both sides of you where you sit in one of the stands, nibbling the skin around your thumb and watching Namjoon pace the stage below.

It's gone midnight by now. Most of the crew went home hours ago. Not Namjoon though. He stayed to practice some more. Said he couldn't get the choreography quite right.

You tried going home but you couldn't get the fight out of your head. Everything reminded you of Yoongi and your thoughts started to wander. Did he hate you? Was he listening to the song right now? Why hasn't he called? Why is your own bed not as comfy as the one you shared with Yoongi?

It all got too much eventually. Something told you that you weren't welcome at the apartment so you ended up heading towards the only other place you knew, surprised to find your brother had the same idea.

A single spotlight illuminates the stage as Namjoon twists his body in time with the one, two, three, four he unconsciously mumbles under his breath, face contorted with a stark concentration that flits to impatience when his foot slips and he misses the beat. Again. It just about sends him over the edge.

"I can't do this anymore!" A microphone squeals and hits the ground with a thump. It reverberates through the arena, your hands flying to your ears as you watch Namjoon let loose all his anger on an innocent amp stand before collapsing into a heap at the edge of the stage. "Fuck this shit!"

You're flying down the stairs to his aid before he can do any serious damage to the stage equipment — or worse, to himself.

Namjoon scoffs when he hears the stage creak under your feet. "Nice of you to show up."

It stings. You snap.

"What happened to you, Namjoon?" You look at his sunken cheekbones, his curled fists, the blackness behind his eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore."

He just sniffs and says nothing. The distance between you feels bigger than ever.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

A secret? Since when did Namjoon abide by a policy of honesty?

He takes your shocked silence as a yes.

"I'm calling first thing and dropping out of the competition."

Your world stutters to a standstill, breath knocked out of your lungs.

Dropping out?

"Shit Joon...if this is about Yoongi—"

He waves you off.  "No. This is about me."

You can't breathe. This can't be real. "I don't understand..."

"I've made up my mind. I can't do this any more. I used to love being up here you know?"

You follow his gaze, out over the empty arena. The last time you were here every seat was filled. You were down there, part of the crowd, packed into the cramped space with barely enough room to breathe.

Imagining how it must feel to be up here comes easy. If you close your eyes you can hear the screams, feel the body heat. Smell the sweat and the anticipation. See thousand faces looking up in awe. At you. It makes your blood run hot.

You much prefer being up here, you decide.

Namjoon brings you back down. "Now it just feels like a chore. I look out and all I see is disappointed faces. I can't pretend for them anymore."

"People travel miles to see you Joon! No one is disappointed."

"Not the fans. They love me. Well, Runch Randa, at least." He cracks a half smile. "It's me whose disappointed. In Kim Namjoon."

You always thought your brother was sure of himself. He's cocky, confident and above all fearless. It's his biggest strength (and his most irritating quality sometimes) but it's what you always admired most about him.

Clearly you didn't know your brother as well as you thought you did.

You bite your lip. "Why?"

He turns to face you, leaning back into his arms while he searches for the right words and, little to your knowledge, gathers the courage to confide in you.

"Because I re-entered Mic Drop for all the wrong reasons. I just wanted to prove myself, you know? Win for real this time, not just by default." He swallows. "But then I saw Yoongi perform. And to be honest? I saw you. I saw how much you care about the music. How you come alive when you're writing lyrics or when you're in the studio." His smile is woeful. "Im supposed to feel like that. But I don't. I never did. It's like I'm always asleep, y'know?"

You did know. Every time you lifted a camera. Every time you pressed the shutter and snapped another shot of Namjoon on stage you felt your soul grow exhausted.

It makes the distance between you and Namjoon close a little. For once you understand each other and you don't have to hide how you feel any more.

"I can't stop thinking that it's your name the fans should be screaming. Not mine. They deserve better than me."

"But you're the best performer I know!" You rush. It always seemed like he wanted to keep you out of the spotlight at all costs. "Why now?"

He lets out a deep sigh. "I'm a selfish person, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you from... all this." He gestures around him. "The late nights and the paparazzi and the criticism and a fucking manager on your back all the time." His eye roll makes you snort, sharing a brief smile at the image of hardworking Jimin mumbling into his headset like a man posessed.

He's quickly serious again though. "Fame comes with a price. But I realize now that the price is worth it if your hearts in the right place and...what I'm trying to say, Y/N, is that mine never was."

You let your chin fall into your palm. Huh. "So that's the big secret?"

"Actually...there's something else." He shifts nervously. "I know about you and Yoongi."

You freeze, scrambling to your knees with wide eyes. "Wait, Joon, let me explain—"

"Let me finish!" Namjoon brushes you off with a breathless laugh, nodding to himself, as if finally coming to a solid conclusion about coming clean when his eyes meet yours. "He's in love with you."

This time it feels like the whole world goes into overdrive. You forget how to breathe.

"What...how...huh?"

It's Namjoon's palm squeezing your knee reassuringly that brings you back down.

"He always was. Even back before things got messed up." A deep breath. Something was coming, you could tell by the way his eye twitched nervously. "That's why me and Yoongi fought. That's why I...I lied and said that I wrote the song the night of the Mic Drop final...accused him of plagiarism—" Your mouth gapes. "I know! I know. Don't look at me like that. I can see the irony."

It all makes sense now. She's a part of this, Namjoon, whether you like it or not.

The reason Namjoon sacrificed his best friend wasn't for fame but for your sake?

You want to fly at your brother, scream at him for keeping this from you for so long. For turning you against Yoongi. For keeping you from the only person to make you feel safe. Feel Happy.

But his eyes are void of anything other than regret and you can tell his betrayal had been playing on his mind all these years.

"Point is, I didn't want you to get hurt." He shuffles awkwardly, not knowing what to do with your silence. "That's not an excuse, I know. Do you hate me?"

"No." Your voice sounds small. His chest heaves with relief. "I just wish you had been honest with me before. Saved us a ton of trouble."

"I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was a shitty brother in the end anyway."

It's strange. Even after all the fights and the resentment and the goddamn secrets, you don't think Namjoon is a shitty brother. Sure, his actions and intentions were shitty there was no denying it. But now it's like the puzzle pieces finally click into place and the full photograph comes into view, crystal clear.

All this time, he just wanted to protect you, when you should have been protecting him. He was hurting too, you just never knew it.

"It's not too late, Joon. Just be happy for me okay? I think..." If Namjoon plucked up the courage to tell you his secrets then it was only fair that you did too. "I love him too."

A pinkish tinge caresses your face when you finally admit it, both out loud and to yourself.

You love Yoongi. And now all the cards are on the table there's nothing holding you back from it.

Now you just need to tell Yoongi.

"I know. You think I don't know who that song is about?" The grin that spreads across Namjoon's features is sincere."And I am. Happy for you, I mean."

Now the truth is out in the open it feels like your wounds are already beginning to heal. You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. It was time to forgive.

A thought suddenly strikes you. "So what are you gonna do now?

Namjoon fumbles in the back pocket of his jeans, thrusting something towards you. A polaroid picture. The same photo you'd seen at Yoongi's studio.

He kept it, too?

"This kid." His finger jabs at the innocent face of a younger Namjoon, arm wrapped around the shoulders of his best friend. "I didn't get enough time to live as him before I became Runch Randa. I think it's time to just live as Namjoon for a while."

"But what about Big Hit? It'll fall apart and mom and dad will kill you—"

"No it won't. They have you. I already talked to them, in fact. There's a stage with your name on it right here." He pats the ground. "If you want it, that is."

You blink, stunned. You? "I...I don't know if I can."

"I believe in you." Namjoon says. "And I'll be cheering you on from the front row."

You'd have to think about it long and hard but you can't help the grin that appears on your face. Things were going to be okay.

An urge rises in your chest to tell Yoongi this news. To see the way his face would light up as you started the journey to following your own dreams, like he always said you should.

You and Yoongi were going to be okay.

"Hey! Maybe I should try photography now I have some free time." Namjoon tugs at the camera strap around your neck, lifting his eye to the viewfinder and laughing when you cover the lens with your hands. "Damn I'm kinda good!"

You bump his shoulder teasingly, the belly laughter that spills into the arena feeling like the most natural thing in the world.

You're only interrupted by approaching footsteps. Jimin bursts into the arena.

"Namjoon," he pants. "I have some bad news."

--

It's compulsory for all competitors to attend the crowning ceremony. Even those who get disqualified.

RUNCH RANDA BLACKLISTED FROM COMPETING IN FUTURE HIP HOP COMPETITIONS AFTER PLAGIARISM SCANDAL SURFACES.

Just one of the devastating headlines that hit the media after the judges panel received an anonymous tip in the form of a USB stick that exposed Namjoon once and for all. The same USB that you pressed into Yoongi's hands just hours before Namjoon's disqualification.

RAPPER GLOSS TO SNATCH MIC DROP TROPHY IN SHOCKING REVENGE FOR HIS BRUTAL DEFEAT.

Namjoon reads it aloud in the back of the car. He laughs at the end but it does nothing to lighten the mood.

The windows are tinted but you can still see the hoards of fans lining the streets, eyes steeped in betrayal.

You should hear the way they boo as your brother drives past. You should hear the way they chant his name instead.

Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!

But you don't. You don't hear anything. You don't feel anything. All you can think of is the same three words, throbbing in your chest over and over again.

I love you.

Did he mean them at all?

"Y/N? Did you hear me?"

"Hm?" You look up. Namjoon's staring at you with concern.

"Your phone's ringing again."

It's no surprise when you pull out your phone and see a contact picture of yourself and Yoongi gracing the screen. He's been calling all morning. It takes every strength inside you to tap the red decline button.

"Aren't you gonna talk to him?"

Another call lights up the screen.

"Not like this."

With trembling fingers you shut your phone off all together.

--

Paparazzi cameras flash brazenly as you step out of the black company car, following Namjoon with your hood pulled tightly round your face. A hoard of body guards usher you through a back door to the arena. The main entrance is reserved for notable guests only, you learn.

While Namjoon's presence usually makes the room buzz with an electric energy, there's no excitement when he enters now. An awkward hush falls like a shroud as he elbows his way past pitiful stares. It's like someone died. In a way it's true; there's no trace of Runch Randa in Namjoon's hunched stance. Here, the dead still walks for everyone to see.

Jimin's waiting by the stage door. No words are exchanged as he slips passes into your hands. Namjoon's has a big red strike through the word TALENT, "guest" scribbled all too generously below it to match your own.

It's nearing show time. They're just waiting for you to take your seats, Jimin says, though you barely hear him. You're too busy imagining what you would do if you bumped into him right now, heart pounding whenever you catch a glimpse of blue or hear a laugh you're convinced you recognise.

Deep down you know exactly where you have to go to find him. To find Yoongi.

"I'll join you in a second, okay?"

Namjoon looks nervous, the first time you've ever seen him with such a severe case of the jitters. His smile is empty when you rub his forearm reassuringly. "Don't be too long. If I'm gonna do this I want you by my side."

You manage a smile. "Always."

With that, Namjoon takes a deep breath and pushes out into the life of the arena and you find your feet numbly carrying you down back corridors you know by heart until you reach his dressing room.

Your heart is blind, you think. Even now the shattered fragments ache for him, beat a little faster knowing he's just behind this door.

Why can't you go back to hating him, just like you did before? Deep down you know it's because you never really hated Yoongi. You don't think you ever could.

Forgiving him, though? Some wounds never heal, no matter how badly you want them to.

You pause outside the door. The stupid gold star that used to be there has been scraped off, replaced with a new name tag. Gloss. You put your ear to the wood. Nothing.

A deep breath and you find the handle. Should you burst in and give him a piece of your mind? Knock and enter politely? You can't help but scoff. Shouldn't he be the one coming to find you?

He calls your name before you can do either.

"Y/N?"

Fuck. Is hearing his voice supposed to hurt this bad?

You don't know what you're expecting when you turn around. Something different about him perhaps. A sign that he isn't the person you had grown to know. Grown to love.

But there he is. All messy blue hair and bitten lips and eyes a little red around the edges. Your Yoongi.

Your arms curl around your body like a band aid, holding you together. You can't crumble. Not now.

He looks stony but his eyes flicker with tender remorse when he sees the tears staining your cheeks.

His hands reach for you instinctively. The same hands that make love to his piano in the shitty apartment above the coffee shop. The same hands that could make you fall apart with even a delicate touch. You want to run into them so bad it hurts. But now they're stained red with betrayal and he chokes when you recoil.

Seconds feel like hours as you just stand there taking each other in like it's been years. It's only been a day or two. Maybe three? You can't remember. They all rolled into one meaningless blur of angry tears and insomnia.

You had a whole speech prepared for the moment you finally faced him again. But there are no words that feel right. You just need to know. If he meant every touch and every inside joke and those three words that make your heart soar despite how badly you want to hate him. And there's only one way to find out.

"Why did you do it?"

Your voice sounds timid and scared, like you feel. He winces.

"Y/N, let me explain—"

"Explain what?" Your voice raises shakily."How you lied to me? How you used me?"

He rushes towards you and it takes all of your strength to draw back, especially when his eyes look so frantic, so desperate. Like he's having one of his nightmares. It tugs at your heart because this time the nightmare is real and you're living in it.

"It's not like that—"

"Did you ever even want me? What about all that fair and square bullshit you told me huh?"

"Of course I wanted you Y/N...want you." His eyes fill with pain. "This wasn't meant to happen. I know how this looks but I just panicked!"

You rush at him, fists curled like that day in his studio except this time he doesn't stop you when you start hitting his chest, vision blurry.

"He was going to pull out! Namjoon was going to let you win! So that I could -- we could be happy!"

"What I...I don't understand?" His mouth gapes, processing. "But you didn't..." He swallows, like remembering is painful. "When I confessed, you didn't say it back. I thought we were over! I thought I had nothing to lose, Y/N. He had already won..."

You remember your words. I can't do this anymore. A misunderstanding that would never have happened if he just—

"Did you even listen to the song?"

His face drops at the mention of the song. "No." He looks like he might cry. "I was angry! I...I acted impulsively. I never got the chance..."

You bared your soul in that song in ways you never thought you could. He wasn't supposed to find out how you felt about him this way. Not here, when you're falling apart and there's nothing you can do to stop it. But it all comes tumbling out before you can change your mind.

"I wrote that song because I love you, Yoongi!"

Silence. He has to grip the wall to steady himself.

"Y-you love me?"

"I love you." The words feel indulgent on your tongue and even now as they hang heavy in the air and you're overcome with an indescribable combination of grief and longing, you mean them with every bone in your body.

You rush at him. You can't help it. Can't resist how your head falls into his chest and how you cry harder when you breathe in his scent one last time, sobs muffled by his hoodie. But he hears them, you know he does, because his hands are trembling when they pull you closer like you're fragile enough to break.

"I love you. So fucking much it hurts, Yoongi."

You're weak. You're so so weak.

You don't know why you do it but you grab his face with both hands and then you're kissing him. Showing him how much you need him, how much you mean your words. His hand cups your jaw like always and his lips press back with a tender desperation and you believe him. You believe that he loves you. Whole and true. Because in that moment, with his lips on yours, everything is okay. He's your Yoongi and you're his Y/N and he loves you.

But then you pull back and he's crying too and everything's broken and your heart goes numb.

"I'm sorry. God, Y/N I'm so sorry. If I could take it back I promise I would."

You muster up all the strength you can. You know what you have to do.

"I'm giving you a choice, Yoongi. You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over. For real."

He tries to kiss you again, grabbing at you frantically when you turn your cheek.

"Y/N, don't do this. We love each other. That's all that matters right?" He musters up the closest thing to a smile he can manage, like he's convincing himself more than he is you. "You don't have to—"

"No." You pull away from grip. It feels cold and wrong. "I have to do this. If you love me like you say you'll...you'll understand."

You turn but he grabs your wrist, pins you in place.

"I can't lose you to him again, Y/N. I...I already lost you once and I don't think I..."

The hard faced Min Yoongi you once knew is gone. All that's left is the vulnerable man in front of you who holds your heart in your hands with a grip so tight it scares you.

"He can't win...please."

You suck in a final breath.

"Please what? Don't make you choose between me and that stupid fucking trophy? You did this to yourself, Yoongi." You turn and this time he lets you. "The only person pushing me away is you."

"Y/N please, wait!"

You don't dare turn to look at him as you walk away. Not even when he pleads or you hear him fall to his knees, a strangled sob echoing down the hall. You're scared you might run back to him if you do.

You don't let yourself break down until you turn the corner. Yoongi doesn't follow.

--

"I'm okay." You assure Namjoon as you take a seat beside him inside the arena. It's a lie, of course. No amount of cold water splashed on your face in the bathroom could prepare you for this moment.

You're just in time. The ceremony is already starting. The host is taking the stage and the lights are dimming but you're too numb to care.

You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over.

Your decision is final. There's no going back. You've cried all your tears. You've said all that needed to be said. All you're left with now is a sickly feeling in your stomach as you look down at the trophy sat in a display case center stage.

We love each other. A slither of hope tugs at your heart strings. You barely manage to suppress it.

"Sorry! Excuse me!" The empty seat to your left sinks under the weight of Hoseok as he clumsily stumbles into the arena, late as always.

He offers you a smile which turns to a frown when you only stare past him vacantly, straining your neck to keep an eye on the stage.

A hand covers yours. You freeze at the contact, only relaxing when you peer through the darkness to find Hoseok staring at you gently. His voice is a whisper. "Whatever happens I'm here for you, okay?"

A wave of emotion crashes through you and you think you might cry again. You can't make your lips sound out a response but Hoseok understands and you feel a little stronger when you turn your attention back to the ceremony knowing you have someone by your side.

"As you all know there have been some...complications with this year's finalists." The host coughs and fiddles with his tie awkwardly. "But we are glad to announce that we do in fact have a winner here with us today!"

The crowd chants Yoongi's name again. Namjoon stiffens. Your free hand grabs his and he squeezes it tight.

"So without further ado, I would like to welcome this year's winner, Gloss!"

The crowd goes wild but the sound is drowned out by a ringing in your ears. It's like you're underwater, holding your breath as you wait and wait for him to take the stage and all the oxygen to slip away.

One...two...three...

You get to ten seconds, then twenty seconds and then thirty and by the time you get to forty you feel yourself break the surface, take a heaving breath.

You're floating. He chose you.

He loves you! Yoongi loves you! He—

No.

You're seeing things. You must be. That can't be Yoongi's face lighting up every screen in the room. That can't be him crossing the stage and taking the trophy from the hands of the host with a smug grin. That can't be Yoongi holding it up in the air like a martyr.

That can't be your Yoongi. This is a stranger.

You crash back to reality when Namjoon wraps his arms around your waist and you realise your sobbing. Sobbing so hard it hurts your chest and your lungs burn with misuse and you're sure the tears will never stop.

"It's okay! Shh."

Nothing is okay. Nothing.

Yoongi's face is still blown up on the big screens in painful detail. The smile on his face falters when he looks out into the crowd and spots you instantly. Sees you crumple.

There are two things Min Yoongi ever loved in this world.

His music and you.

The trophy feels cold in his hands. The crowd gasps as he rushes to the edge of the stage and calls out to you.

"Y/N wait! I'm sorry—"

You hear his voice through the speakers but it's too late. You're already running.

Yoongi's mic drops to the ground.

--

Yoongi's nightmares are back. Except this time they're different.

When he closes his eyes you're there. Smiling and laughing like you used to. His heart warms and he reaches for you...

And then he realises it's not you. Just a picture, blown up on the big screen as you cross the stage at the front of the room he's suddenly aware he's in.

He glances around at the indistinguishable people around him, all smiling and clapping ferociously. Why isn't he happy?

The bottle in his hand is half empty. He's realises he's screaming. So hard his throat burns and his lungs beg for air but you don't even look his way. He screams your name, over and over again. Nobody seems to hear him.

Namjoon's there too. Bouncing a baby on his knee, maybe one or two years old if he has to guess.

"That'll be you one day," He whispers, but its deafening to Yoongi. "Only the very best for my niece." The baby giggles up at him, stubby fingers wrapped around his thumb.

She has your eyes. The very same eyes Yoongi would look into like they held everything in the world. The very same eyes Yoongi saw fill with pain on the last day he saw you before things got messed up.

She has Hoseok's nose. And his mouth, too, small and heart shaped. The resemblance is uncanny as Hoseok appears beside Namjoon, takes the baby girl into his arms and places a sweet kiss on her forehead.

Then there you are. The same old Y/N. The same smile that makes your eyes crinkle and the same laughter than makes his heart melt. The same girl who used to love him.

Though it's clear that that much is no longer true. Not when you lean up to kiss Hoseok on the cheek, Namjoon drawing you into a hug when you present the trophy in your hands to them with an elated laugh.

A family.

It feels like he's been punched in the stomach.

Yoongi always thought winning Mic Drop would mean he had everything. Fame. Money. Glory.

He didn't need family. He always got by on his own.

It took holding the whole world in the palm of his hand to realise none of it meant anything if he didn't have you by his side.

You were his everything. But he was too stupid to see it and he let you slip away.

It's too late now.

A hand appears on his shoulder. It's cold, grip bruising. The voice that comes next gives him chills every single time.

"So was it worth it?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi tries to answer but his vision is blurred with hot tears now and he's on his hands and knees and he's screaming.

And when he wakes up at ass o clock, sweaty and gasping for air, he still finds himself reaching for your warmth beside him.

But all his fingers find are cold sheets and bitterness.

extended a/n: okay so if you have reached this far then you are a TROOPER. a trooper who i love and appreciate endlessly for reading 30k of my waffle lmao im so sorry <3 ksksksk so this fic has been in my head for the longest time and in my drafts for almost five months so im super attached to it and putting this out is like the scariest ever?? i really put my heart into this piece, like y’all don’t understand how many times it’s cropped up in my dreams and I’ve woken up like MUST WRITE. it’s far from perfect but i tried my best!! i can’t tell you how many scenes had to be rewritten until i was happy enough with them bc this fic is literally my baby in every sense of the word and i wanted to get it right :( although that just made the ending even more SOUL DESTROYING to write for me ugh i had the ending set in my mind before i even started writing but there were moments where i jus wanted yoongi and oc to be happy ever after :( but alas, I feel like this ending was far more realistic for them and i couldn’t go against my gut sigh. there may be a few drabbles planned in the future tho to make up for the angst :) Anyway!!! I’ll stop rambling. Thank you for reading this far, if anyone has. TROOPER. love you <3

updated 12/01/19: drabble #1 | drabble #2 | drabble #3 

[spookyc]

i’d love to hear about your talent swap maki (if you want to)

So glad you asked! This will probably be a long post so be prepared.

Okay so, Maki is easily my favorite character in v3 and probably in the whole series, so it only made sense she was my first swap. Maki in this au is the ultimate artist and she got into art during her time at the orphanage. Due to the stress of having to take care of the kids all the time, her friend, Hana, (yes she has a name in this au because she's way more important in this au) suggested it to help relieve her stress. Maki was skeptical at first but when she tried it she realized that it was surprisingly comforting and fun, so she continued it and found a real passion for it.

Unfortunately for her, she still has the assassins to worry about, and they had their eyes on her in this au. Originally she would have accepted the role if it meant protecting the other kids but now she wasn't so sure. She wanted to pursue her art as a career and show it to the world. But, she reluctantly accepted the fact that her art would only be posted onto the orphanage's walls. Or at least that's what she thought. See, unbeknownst to her, Hana wasn't planning on letting that happen and she would do everything in her power to prevent Maki from leaving. So, when Maki packed her things and prepared to leave with the other assassins, Hana pushed her out of the way. She then proceeded to tell the assassins that Maki was unfit to be an assassin, that Maki was too emotional and that she would make a far better candidate. The irony of course being that Hana was mostly talking about herself.

Maki fought with her and tried to convince the assassins otherwise but eventually the assassins decided on Hana and took her away. Maki was never the same after she left, always anxious and on edge. But still, she had hope that Hana would come back to her, so she waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally, after many years, Hana's training was finished. Maki eagerly stood by the door, waiting for them to open and bring Hana with them. And after an eternity, they finally did. Immediately Maki was met by the same two assassins that had taken Hana away all those years ago. And with them was a familiar face, just not the one Maki was expecting. Angie Yonaga.

See, in this au, Angie is the ultimate child caregiver as well as the ultimate assassin. She also is in the charge of the whole cult aspect of the assassin organization and sort of acts like a figurehead, but one that still works for the organization. To Maki's dismay though, no one else enters the door. She asks Angie where Hana is and Angie tells her the bad news. Hana is dead. She had died on a mission. Maki is immediately in disbelief, telling Angie that she has to be wrong. But Angie reaffirms to Maki that Hana is long gone. Then Maki goes into a rage, asking Angie why she didn't do anything. Angie says that it was out of her control and that there was nothing she could have done. But Maki refuses to believe this and this is where her hatred of Angie begins.

Deep down Maki knows that Angie isn't really responsible for this, but she blames her because she doesn't want to consider the reality of the situation. The reality of what happens to assassins when they don't return from a mission. The fact that Hana killed herself. Maki can't accept this truth and so she redirects her grief-striken anger towards Angie and believes that killing her will give her closure. But as all revenge stories go, it won't, and Maki knows that it won't but if getting rid of Angie and her organization can help ease her mind then she will do what is necessary. After the news of Hana's passing, Maki gets planning. She plans to eventually take down the assassin organization and take Angie down with it.

But she knows that she will face sure death if she faces Angie at her current state, she needs to train to prepare for their battle. So she packs her things and leaves the orphanage at night without a word. She takes to the streets and sells her art to get by, all while training at night for the day she fights Angie. Word of a talented artist begins to spread until the Ultimate Initiative hears of Maki and decides to deem her the ultimate artist. And one night after a bout of training, Maki is kidnapped in the night and brought to the Ultimate Academy and our main plot starts here.

And it's great because Maki was already pissed that she got taken to this school against her will but when she finds out that Angie is there too she is.....not pleased to say the least. But once the killing game is introduced to them, Maki gains hope again for her plan. In the first chapter she initially plans on going through with the First Blood Perk, but cannot get to Angie as she is constantly surrounded by others. After the first case though, Maki starts to spread rumors to the others about Angie being the ultimate assassin, since she's the only one that knows. Most everyone is skeptical except Kiibo (ultimate supreme leader) who is naturally suspicious of everyone and Miu (ultimate survivor) because she's always gotten "bad vibes" from Angie. But when the motive videos are introduced she is one of the big advocaters of exchanging the motive videos and is also very particular about finding out who owns Angie's. This leads to her attempting the motive screening party with everyone, working with Kiibo and Miu. Her approach is far more diplomatic than Kokichi's in the main game, simply using the power of manipulation, with help from Kiibo, to try and convince everyone to come. Haven't completely worked out everything that happens with that, but it gets stopped before they can show anything and the second case plays out. It is after the case where Maki gets a hold of Angie's video and asks Monokuma to show it to, "make things more interesting." Monokuma agrees and Angie's motive video is shown and now everyone knows that Angie is the ultimate assassin.

This leads into the third chapter with a huge divide between the group. Now Maki, Kiibo, Miu, as well as three other students have formed a sort of Anti-Angie squad. They believe that Angie is a threat and should be dealt with and prevented from participating in the killing game. The other six are the Angie Support squad who while they recognize that Angie is an assassin, they also believe that she is a student just like the rest of them and she should not be ostracized as a monster. And it's with the support of the Anti-Angie squad that Maki plans to finally go for the kill. Her plan is to use the necronomicon to revive one of the past killers and to use them as a puppet to kill Angie. Now Maki still doesn't believe in the occult, but she's so blinded by her hatred and revenge that she will utilize any measure possible if it means killing Angie.

So she works together with Shuichi, (ultimate anthropologist) and the revived person to kill Angie. This however backfires when the revived person doesn't act as planned and can't go through with killing Angie and tries to convince Maki to change her mind. She gets angry and kills the revived individual, reducing them back to ash. And right as she's about to kill Angie, she sees that she is speaking with Gonta (ultimate tennis pro/ultimate prisoner). And so, using the katana that Shuichi lended her, she sends it hurtling through Gonta's chest.

With surprising force, the sword goes in through his back and out his chest and when she pulls the sword back she leaves him to bleed out. Her eyes lock on to the horrified Angie and she makes a move towards her, until she feels something stop her. A hand digs into her shoulder and prevents her from moving. It's Shuichi. Snapping out of her frozen state, Angie takes the opportunity and makes a run for it. Maki tries to follow her but Shuichi holds her arms back. She demands him to let her go but he refuses, telling Maki that she needs to stop. Maki questions his intentions, seeing as how he was fine with the plan before. Shuichi explains that he was okay with it before innocent lives were slaughtered and he argues that if Maki is willing to go that far to see Angie die then maybe this plan isn't worth it. Seething with anger she glares daggers at Shuichi, but after some time she relaxes and pulls Shuichi into a hug.

Surprised by the gesture, he lets go of her and hugs her back giving her the perfect opportunity to impale him with his own katana. As he's coughing up blood and clutching his chest, she thinks to go after Angie, but then she observes the scene before her. At the pile of ash and the two bodies dying on the ground. An idea then forms in her mind. Why kill her myself when I can simply pin these murders on her?

And so the rest of the case plays out, her leaving Gonta's body where it laid and hiding Shuichi's in Angie's research room. She convinces the Anti-Angie squad that Angie killed Gonta and Shuichi and the trial proceeds with half of the class vehemently arguing that Angie is the killer. However with the precise detective work from Kiyo, he's able to deduce that Maki is the killer and that is where her story ends.

Well, not entirely, since Kiyo can see and hear ghosts in this au she still terrorizes and threatens him at every turn but chapter three is where her main story concludes.

I am so sorry for the length, I tend to get way too in depth with things and the addition of it being Maki doesn't help but I hope you enjoyed the read. Her plot line has been a lot of fun to come up with, its almost like a Maki villain arc in a way, like if she had went down a darker path. I've still got a few tweaks I need to make but overall I'm really proud with how her arc has come along and I appreciate being able to infodump about it, so thanks!

[forestwater87]

Hey! It's the one who wanted fanfiction writing advice and how to sorta join the fandom. So, I am currently writing a werewolf! au for Gwenvid, and I was wondering if I could ask you something (well, multiple somethings lol)? One, what are things you would like to see in a Gwenvid fic? Two, do you have any advice for writing a good first chapter? Mine is kind of short and not too good, but yours are super good. Three, how would Gwen react to becoming a werewolf? Scared or excited? Thanks!

Oooh, fun! I don’t know if I’m the best authority on this, but I think I have a couple followers who might also have some good insights. Let’s see . . .

Things I personally go feral for in Gwenvid fics:

That UST. Pining, longing, yearning -- whatever you wanna call it, all those little glances at each other then looking away when they get caught staring, getting distracted by a brush of skin against theirs or the other one looking amazing just out of nowhere, standing too close without realizing it and then awkwardly coughing and backing away . . . all of it. These two goobers in love with each other and completely oblivious is just . . . idk, it’s obviously personal preference, but that will-they-won’t-they dance is one of my favorite things about pre-established-relationship Gwenvid, and something I never get tired of. (Also, just saying: werewolf transformations have the distinct side effect of the werewolf waking up partially or completely naked in the forest. It’s a scenario ripe for awkward and/or hilarious situations.)

If they’re in an established relationship already, it’s all about those little domestic things. I mean, there can be domestic things even before they’re dating, because they live together for like 3-4 months out of the year so they have a routine going, but things like one of them keeping the light on for the other without thinking, making coffee/tea and leaving everything laid out just the way the other one likes it, communicating (or even arguing) with just a look, all the casual lil touches of two people so comfortable with each other that it’s automatic at this point. It’s an essential part of fluff that I sometimes feel is overlooked in favor of more dramatic hurt/comfort (which is also excellent, to be clear).

BANTER! It’s not so much a canon thing as a fanon one, but the artist formerly known as Ciphernetics basically established flirty teasing and back-and-forth as a staple of Gwenvid’s charm in their earth-shatteringly beautiful fanfiction (that I can’t link because tumblr softblocks posts with links, but if you look at my blog for like 10 seconds you’ll be able to figure out what I’m talking about), and I think everyone’s writing, including my own, needs more banter. They’re so different, after all; why not have them butt heads in a fun way?

Please please please don’t do NSFW if you’re uncomfortable with it, but there is nowhere near enough of it in Gwenvid-land. Just because we’re wholesome doesn’t mean we can’t also be kinky! (Oh man, I just realized I have no idea how old you are. Uhhhh if you’re not an adult just skip this one on by! Or if you are an adult and this ain’t it. It’s like it wasn’t ever here! Poof! I should probably just delete this, but maybe it’ll awaken a spark of inspiration in someone. Lord knows I haven’t been driving the smut train for a while, so I’m just hoping someone else will do my job for me. Plus Gwen would want me to include this suggestion, especially if there are werewolves involved.)

You know, there’s not a lot of action-hero Gwenvid out there, is there? Most of it’s relationship melodrama and domestic fluff, which I love -- obviously, I write it literally all the time -- but with a werewolf AU you have the opportunity for gratuitous violence, and both David and Gwen have proven they can kick a whole lot of ass and deal out (or take) a lot of pain. If you need two people fighting monsters -- or fighting as monsters -- you could do a lot worse than those two. It’d be a fun change of pace that’d work well with their character dynamic.

Writing a first chapter:

I don’t have a ton of advice here that isn’t pretty common, but the biggest thing is to start in the middle of action. This can range in terms of drama: a camp activity going horribly wrong, a nightmare, maybe even David discovering Gwen’s a werewolf. Your story doesn’t have to go in chronological order, after all, so if you have to backtrack in later scenes or chapters that’s not a bad thing in the slightest! 

It’s much better to start with a really exciting, gripping situation and then backfill in the information that matters than starting off with all that boring worldbuilding and exposition. Don’t get me wrong, that worldbuilding and exposition are necessary, but they’re also like . . . I dunno, salt. It’s essential to the recipe, but no one would say it’s their favorite part of a meal, and having to eat a whole pile of it before they get to the good stuff wouldn’t be enjoyable at all. It’s better sprinkled throughout to add flavor to your story as needed.

I like that metaphor! It’s kinda cliche, but I think it still gets the job done.

So yeah, start with something exciting and know it’s okay for your readers to go, “wait, what the fuck’s going on?” That’s kind of a great thing, actually; it establishes mystery and introduces higher stakes, and just gets your readers going. It’s also more fun to write, which is good! (For example, I just read a really great book call The Chill, which opened with a woman tying a bag over her head, weighting herself down with chains, and throwing herself into a river to “join the work.” Who is this person? What work? Did she know she was going to die -- it definitely doesn’t feel like a suicide, but what else did she think was going to happen?? I’m instantly on board, even if the next few scenes were focused on establishing exposition and actually kinda boring. It’s all about that hook.)

To be fair: I don’t do this all that often in my own fics. For every “starting the story with a botched assassination attempt,” we have “starting the story with waking up.” It’s important to have a first chapter that matches and sets the tone of your story; if it’s going to be a rip-roaring action/horror adventure, you’re going to want to start things off with all that stuff I mentioned before. If you’re writing cute fluff, there’s nothing wrong with your in media res chapter opening being an adorable fluffy scene. Compelling doesn’t have to mean scary or action-packed, but more serve as a teaser for what the rest of the story is going to bring. I’ve been leaning on action or thriller stuff because a werewolf AU implies some level of creature-feature monster spookiness, but any tone works as the start of a fic, as long as it’s not “here’s a laundry list of the universe’s rules,” because that’s boring and you can weave that into the rest of your story later. 

As for your other comment, short isn’t bad at all; in fact, if you want to make your first chapter a really short, compelling scene, that can be a great way to draw people in. But I also am a proponent of writing until it’s done, and couldn’t stick to a page or word count to save my life. My chapters are all over the place, and sometimes I’ll randomly chop them up if I feel like it’s going too long but usually I don’t bother. The more you write, the more you develop a feel for when the story, chapter, or scene needs to end, but as you’re starting out you might wanna snag a beta to help you find that stopping place.

Wow, this is long! Awkward! Sorry about that! I’ll make this last one short:

Gwen the werewolf:

I can’t imagine any universe in which she isn’t psyched as hell. I think she desperately wants to be more special and important than she is, and having a sexy monster superpower would only be a good thing to her, regardless of whatever its drawbacks may be. She might get tired of certain aspects of being a werewolf as the honeymoon phase wears off, but in the beginning I think she’d be excited and maybe even relieved.

Anyway, I hope that helps! It’s a lot of rambling, but I imagine you’re used to that by now. :)

[dimonds456]

20 First Lines

Tagged by @novantinuum, and this looks like fun! I’ll give it a go!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories.  See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

The order here will go from most recent to oldest.

1. Beautiful Morning

Steven awoke to blinding sunlight shining in his eyes. He squinted, bringing a hand up to block the rays as he tried to assess his surroundings.

2. Another Universe Down Below (SU x UT)

He had just turned 15 a few months ago.

3. Half a Puppet

Steven could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Connie fight. She had jumped into White’s head like the angel she was, immediately running in to assist in talking to White.

4. A New Start

Cold. Bright. Fast.

That was the world which sometimes presented itself, whenever Steven chose to open his eyes.

5. Door, Lock, and Key

It was late at night. They had warped back late, as the sun was already gone below the horizon, but now, it had been hours later. The beautiful moonlight shone through Steven’s bedroom windows, painting his warm-colored room in cooler tones.

6. How to Train Your Monster (SU x HTTYD)

Connie was 11 years old when she moved to Beach City, or well, nearby to Beach City. She had been the quiet, shy, awkward kid who loved pretending to be a part of fairy tales, rescuing the royal from peril and battling monsters on the way there. She imagined that she knew how to swing the fine tip of a sword, or launch an arrow with such a precision, she’d be known throughout the world.

7. The SU Cast Plays Among Us (I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT THIS ONE XD)

Dead Body Reported

CONNIE: Well that was fast.

PEARL: What’s happened? Who died?

PERIDOT: …urnext.

SPINEL (yelling over her in shock): AMETHYST?!

AMETHYST (from beyond the grave): Barely even thirty seconds in! >:(

((Okay but low key I still love that one because of how bonkers it is. And not even I knew where it was going. It was GREAT.))

8. Stolen

Here I am in the future.

Here I am in the future, and it’s bright.

Nothing to fear, no one to fight.

I see

The light

As dark takes flight

Happily ever after, after all.

9. Red Isn’t Violence; Pink Is

Anger had a way of bringing out the extremes in someone. Anger fueled determination, and competitiveness, and oftentimes could be the key to strengthening relationships with people. It was funny like that, as everyone always seemed to think of anger as a negative emotion. But, was it really?

10. Broken

It was quiet. The silence was comforting, but not what he was looking for. Not yet.

11. Bubbled (SU Time Travel AU)

It had been a long, slow trip, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the Ruby guards boarded their Roaming Eye. Amethyst, exhausted, released her shapeshifted form of Jasper, wiping the sweat from her brow. She and Steven both started laughing in relief.

12. A Second Chance

SPINEL: Any second now, she'll be back. She's just getting everything ready... a new garden, maybe! I just need to be patient, that's all.

13. The Choice (Demons Inside AT) ((BATIM AU))

Darkness could only be dark with light.

Emptiness could only be empty while there existed something else.

There would be no warmth without cold, nor good without evil. That was something the demon had known his whole life, but had never really understood until now.

14. Awaken - Mystery Skulls (fan fic / interpretation)

He rose up, looking around. The world around him was dark and dreary, no lights in sight. His back was against the wall, and his body felt heavy. He blinked. He was looking at what looked like a cliff face, but it was growing from the wall by his feet.

15. Demons Inside: The Rewritten Fanfic (PART 1)

It was late at night. The clock on the wall tick, tick, ticked away, the time reading right around 2:15 A.M. It was quiet, an eerie noise that didn’t fit the studio very well. Well, all minus the ticking clock.

16. Edgar's Nightmare

It was dark. There was very little light, and the majority of it came from these little lamps hanging down from the ceiling. The other half of the light came from one part of this large cavern, over by the only exit- by a little workshop. Right now, though, that light was turned off.

The witch was away.

17. Bendy's Nightmare

It is a beautiful day. Light shines down upon rolling, soft grey hills. There are a few fluffy clouds in the sky, but that cannot spoil the mood.

18. Angelic Arrest- A Sillyvision Cartoon [script]

Alice Angel is hiding behind a cloud as she watches a fellow angel approach. This other angel trips over a thin wire, sending him face-first through the clouds. Alice laughs, but then stops when the other angel flies back up, frowning.

ANGEL: Alice Angel. I should have known it was you.

19. King Dice in: A Christmas Carol (Chapter 1)

It was a crisp winter day. The snow blew across Inkwell Isle, freezing the land in its cold grip. Everyone was outside, however, chatting amongst each other, singing carols, and welcoming distant family onto the island.

20. Demons Inside- BATIM Fanfiction (but the first ver of it)

It was late at night. The lights in the studio had all been turned off, Joey had gone home, and Boris and Alice were sleeping soundly in the little room downstairs Joey had made for them. A single light flickered, quiet and dim, the light reflecting off a small Ink Creature sitting all alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first thing that stuck out to me was that I tend to start with a fact. Someone was this age, the weather was this. Often, I specifically stated the time of day. It's night so often, go to sleep, all of you.

Next, I talked about the setting. The characters get introduced later. I need to establish where we are and what's happening naturally before the characters go messing with anything.

The second most common thing I did was say something philosophical. I did this when I was about to start toying with an idea, like anger being represented by the color pink instead of red.

T;dr, I need to get more creative with my openings lol

My favorite opening line was probably "The Choice" actually. I don't really know why, I just like the way it flows.

I don't know 10 other fic artists on Tumblr, so I'm gonna say that if you write fic and wanna try this, go for it. Consider youself tagged by me. :)

[reversemoon255]

1t's Never 0ver

Hot take: Brain is the first Reiwa Rider. Still, for the first Reiwa series, Kamen Rider Zero-One was a great start. I've seen a surprising amount of kids shows tackle the idea of treating robots like people, and this show handles it pretty decently.

The Good: Aruto was surprisingly funny and competent. I was optimistic when they presented him as an unfunny comedian turned CEO in the preview material, but I'm impressed by how well he turned out, with full credit to the actor for nailing most of his deliveries. One of my big problems with both Build and Zi-O was that I couldn't always get behind the characters, but Aruto was definitely a step up, being the first Rider since Drive to really grab me.

Considering we just came off Zi-O, with a large cast of stoic characters, it's amazing how much Izu, the emotionless robot, pulled it off better. (Actually, credit to all the Humagear actors for outstanding mono-emotional performances. They all did very well.) I think a big part of that was the fact that they allowed her to make jokes and do silly things with a straight face, instead of being purely dour. And it was an excellent payoff, seeing her slow progression from a very basic personality to a much more lively one as the series progressed.

I really liked Fuwa, and his was another character that underwent several shifts during the run of the story, those the moments where he started turning are more evident than Izu's (but he's also not portrayed as very bright, so that makes sense). His entire arc is him overcoming his hatred for Humagears, eventually reaching the point where he wants to help them, with the final expression of this being him declaring his will to carry on Naki's dream and using his Progrise Key to transform. And he was just pretty fun, being the serious character who likes bad jokes, and often ends up the butt of them himself.

Yua is a troublesome character. There was a lot of untapped potential there that I feel wasn't reached, but there was some good, too. Her arc was seeing Humagear as people rather than tools, which isn't as well executed as Izu or Fuwa as she took a back seat for about two show arcs, but is ultimately satisfying. Most of her development in this department seems to comes from her interactions with Izu, but her experiences during the Fire Fighter training were also a big push. And her resignation was amazing. I feel most of her issues could have been solved if they didn’t push her so hard in promotional material at the beginning.

I disliked Gai for most of this show, which I think was the point. He was a total butt for the majority of the runtime, but it's also amazing how quickly I 180'd on him after his dog showed up. He was very functional, and I wasn't really interested in him as a character until, again, Dog Thouser showed up.

Jin was definitely the villain I had the most investment in throughout the show, even if that started waning near the end when he was just sitting around and letting Horobi do whatever he wanted. Still, he was very similar to Izu, being a Humagear that we see slowly obtain his own singularity and ideals, but taken from a different perspective. He was also a lot of fun. I've found my favorite characters are usually the ones with positive attitudes and outlooks, even if he was aiming for mankind's extinction.

I know a lot of people like Horobi, but it took me a while to warm up to him, and even then I wasn't the biggest fan until his changes in the final episodes. When Gai replaced him as the main antagonist of the series, I wasn't sad to see him go, but I am glad he eventually came back because they did good things with him. It's also cool how he sparks Jin's first major development with his death, and Jin sparks his final changes with his own.

I found myself very invested in the story, especially since this series was very good at not letting a status quo settle for very long. As soon as the Aruto VS A.I.M.S dynamic was set up, he reveals himself to them. As soon as Metsuboujinrai.Net is defeated, Gai shows up. After 4 "nice" contests between humans and Humagear where the humans learn something through the competition, we get one where the villains win and Aruto is ousted as CEO. And I think that was to the show's benefit. A lot of Rider shows will wait half the show before a shakeup, but Zero-One was constantly keeping the viewer interested with new story lines and revelations.

Oh, and every belt chant was amazing.

The Bad: Going in the same order, Yua had a lot of unused potential. I remember how much hype her character had out the gate, being the first female Rider to start a series. She even got a form change, which is a first. However, she only got one form change, and as I mentioned when discussing LupinRanger and Ryusoulger, power-ups in Tokusatsu shows are often used as physical representations of a character's growth. Yua's second form showed up before episode 10. Yes, she also had Fighting Jackal later in the show, but that was a monster form; it's made to represent her fully giving in to Gai’s will, which is why we don't see it after she quits ZAIA. I would have loved if she had used Fighting Jackal in the ShotRiser and had gotten a new form as a representation of her moving on from those painful memories, or forgiving Gai. It sucks, because we got a ton of short-use Riders and forms in this series, so you'd think they could swing it. Just in the last few episodes, we got Arc-One, Arc-Scorpion, Vulcan Japanese Wolf, and Eden. At this point, I think Toei's just not sure what to do with a female Rider. At least they treated her better than Poppy and Nico.

I really didn't like Gai. And I know that's the point, but there's a difference between there being a character you're supposed to hate for the whole show and a character you're supposed to come around on. You can have a despicable character become a good guy, but there has to be something about them that makes you want them to become one in the first place, otherwise it's just jarring. Dan Kuroto is a great example of this. He was also a despicable character, but he had this humorous over-the-top attitude to him that made him fun to watch, and you want him to join the main cast to see how that persona bounces off everyone else. Gai didn't have anything like that; he was just dislikable. If they had hinted at all to his past, it would have worked, but they waited until the episode where he face turns to do it. And that just doesn't work.

This is also a personal nitpick, but when they were teasing stuff for the finalé, I thought Aruto was going to use Rocking Hopper, not Realizing Hopper. Thematically, that would have been awesome, but I'm ok with what we got.

There were also quite a few episodic plots I'd wished they'd covered in regards to the Humagears. We covered quite a broad range of topics with them, but there were a few big things they missed. One of them is about Humagear choosing new careers. It's cool that Humagear have dreams, but they're all in regard to their predisposed profession. The manga assistant wants to write a manga, the coaches want to teach the best athletes, etc. But no one wants to change jobs. We don't get a farmer Humagear that suddenly wants to become an artist or anything, and I would have liked to see how Aruto would handle that. And what about love? It was briefly brought up, but what happens when a Humagear falls in love with a human? Or when two Humagear fall in love? How did they have sentient robots and not talk about love!?

I also can't help but wonder what the show would have been like if we hadn't lost 4 episodes due to current events. I have a feeling we might have had a Gaim Finalé situation with Eden and that's why they had the costume on hand. Who knows; maybe we'll get some interviews down the road that will give us some insight.

And lastly, spoilers, I want top talk about the death of Izu, because that's the one thing I see the most that people disliked about the ending. It's not that she died at all, because we've had that before with characters like Ankh, but because Aruto created a new, identical Izu, with the same name, and proclaimed he was going to retrain her.

I had to think on this for quite a while, but I'm ok with this. Don't get me wrong, I would have preferred an ending where Izu was restored like Jin, or where Horobi becomes Aruto's new assistant, but the thing is this was foreshadowed. In the early episodes, every time Metsubojinrai.Net corrupts a Humagear, and Aruto or Fuwa or Yua has to destroy it, what happens? The owner gets a new Humagear of the same model and retrains it. Aruto is following his company’s policy. And yes, it’s painful. You can see him well up as he’s reminded of the first Izu, but he smiles and moves forward.

There is a form of Japanese pottery called kintsukuroi. In it, you take a piece of broken pottery, and along the cracks you piece everything back together with gold. It's not an easy process, it takes time, and the cracks are still there, but the end result is far more beautiful that what you started with. Aruto is always going to remember the first Izu, and living with the second Izu is going to be painful, but there’s the potential for this new relationship to be even greater than the one he started with. Or at least that’s me reading too much into it.

The Next: (At the time of writing this,) Saber premieres this weekend. Love the designs, as I'm big on the knight motif. I think the belt gimmick is cool, and might get it if they reveal some interesting power-up books. I think a story about story is very fun, very meta, could be great, but could also go horribly wrong if not given to the right writer. We'll have to see. After how well Zero-One was handled, I'm excited to see how the rest of Reiwa will go. They probably won't all be winners, but I enjoyed most of Neo Heisei, with only the last few entries being bad-to-ok in my book, so here's to hoping we'll get a repeat of that trend, without repeating their themes.

Overall, this was a good season. Not my favorite, but certainly in the upper half of the show's library. Looking forward to the movie, whenever that happens. Looking forward to Saber, too.

"A Rider Kick to the sky turns to take off toward a dream!"

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Cori's Tale (Pt.1)

-------------------------

I was never much for listening to the old stories they told us about monsters and humans fighting. It wasn't that I didn't care- I just had better things to do, like drawing. I had a black backpack with gold spikes for all my sketchbooks and drawing materials, I never leave home without it. The other kids at school think it's weird, I've never taken the thing off since I got it, but I like it! That's all that matters.

Oh, how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself have I? Cori Sable, resident nonbinary disaster child. Not that it's of any consequence what my gender or lack thereof is, after all I'm only twelve years old aren't I.

But back to the important stuff! I live in a community of lots of people, it's fun, we get along pretty well when people aren't calling me names or telling me the backpack I wear is pointless and stupid and I should just get rid of it.

If I had to complain about anything, it would be the fact that no one seems to notice how many kids go missing at Mt. Ebbot every year. Every year some kid gets dared to climb it, and every year they don't come back. With the way the other kids look at each other sometimes, I worry they know exactly what they're doing when they send someone up there.

"And that's the story of how the humans were victorious in the Battle of Mt. Ebbot," the teacher closed her book, placing it on a shelf next to her. I hadnt heard a word of what she said, not that it mattered since I already had the whole thing memorized to begin with. I glared enviously at the back of the room, where teenagers sat on their phones, willingly able to ignore the story and not get in trouble. We werent allowed to get phones until we were fourteen, and even then we had to get jobs first, and recite the story of monsters vs humans. I don't think I'll ever get a phone, I'm terrible at doing work for one. For two the way everyone here tells the story of our fight seems very biased, it's almost like they didn't try to cooperate with the monsters at all, just maim and kill and lock away where no one else can find them. It's rather rude in my opinion, monsters just seem like weaker magical humans, they just look different and have a different culture, I don't see what's wrong with that.

Of course, bringing this up would be a detriment to my already tediously hanging reputation here. A kid who isn't well liked would be ill-advised to go spouting off about how monsters and humans aren't so different, about how maybe if we'd shown a little mercy we wouldn't be in this situation.

See, we used to be able to live in separate houses, used to be able to get stuff whenever we wanted. But it turns out a lot of that was because if decent trading with monsters, and of course, no monsters, no nice things. Not to mention, going through an entire war is hardly good for anyone involved, it's actually probably the worst possible event to go through. That's what led us to here, with so many orphans the human race decided "why not just make all children orphans" and took us away from our parents nearly as soon as we were born to be raised in these communities, only able to escape once we prove sufficient enough to survive on our own.

I'll probably never get out, they'll kick me out at twenty-one of course, but the problem with that is, I don't think I'll get the hang of life by then, or ever really. There's just to many things to learn! How to drive a car, how to use a phone, how to get a job, how to talk to people, it's all way to much. And with no one helping me out, I'm basically trying to operate a plane where all the buttons are the same color and the switches don't have labels.

Recess was my least favorite part of the day. I used to like it, but now I get pushed off of everything I try to use. On top of that, recess is when The Choosing happens. If you haven't figured it out yet, that's when someone gets dared to climb a giant mountain or risk being labelled a coward and ostracised, one time a kid refused and they got them kicked out entirely!

"Cori!" I heard a rough grumbling voice call my name. I turned to face the girl, her name was Ulana, and she was the one who decided what happened to all of us. Red hair braided behind her back, Jean's ripped in so many places it couldnt possibly be intentional, the only thing scarier than her was the twin brothers that always followed close behind. Sora and Pevril were oddities of their own, with Sora having black and blue eyes and Pevril being abnormally tall for a child. They were of course, only scary when around Ulana, other than that, I didn't see them as much of a threat, sometimes it even seemed like we could be friends.

"What is it, Lan," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't call me Lan," growled the girl, she was nearly a foot taller than me, and almost old enough to age out of the community to. But she was looking for a reaction, and I learned long ago that I should never give one to a bully, not if I had any self-respect.

"Right, well what do you want then?" I tilted my head to the side, focusing more on the sound of children playing in the distance than Ulana.

"I bet you can't climb Mt. Ebbot and survive," I froze for a second. I was aware I wasn't well liked, but perhaps i should've paid attention to just how deep that disdain went.

"And if I don't accept?" I said, digging my feet into the ground.

"Then I'll take that nice backpack of yours and chuck it in with the next kid, and you'll get kicked out," I wrapped my hands around the backpack straps subconsciously.

"Fine, I'll play your game, but if I do make it back, you can't send anyone else down ever again," I said, looking her directly in the eyes. There was a glint there, one I that sent shivers down my spine.

Mountains were, of course, cold, but my legs had a weird relationship with temperature. I had a blue and indigo striped hoodie on, one with little grey horns at the top, and black shorts with black boots. The ever important backpack was still tossed over my shoulders, sketchbook and art materials jostling around inside.

I reached the top of the mountain soon after, there was a crater at the center. I thought to myself for a second, whether Ulana had mentioned anything about going into the mountain, or if I could go home saying I had climbed it myself. I was in fact, so caught up in this decision, that I was caught off guard by a light shove from behind, and sent hurtling down the crater, my backpack clutched to my chest.

I landed, miraculously, in a pile of soft flowers, that seemed to cushion my fall.

I couldn't tell where I was, just that I was really far down, and the sky was really far up. I made the decision to keep walking.

After a few mere seconds of this I came across a patch of grass, where an orange tree stood at the center. I paused for a second before realizing- the tree had a face.

"Howdy! I'm Orangey, Orangey the orange tree!" It spoke, in a voice that sounded cold and calculated.

"Uh- hi- I'm Cori- the not orange not tree-" I said, doing a sort of two-finger salute in return.

"You're new to the underground arentcha?" Said Orangey, I nodded in response.

"Let me help you," suddenly something jumped out in front of me. It was glowing, different shades of pink blue and yellow faded in and out of what looked like a heart.

"This is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!" Said Orangey, he seemed unphased by the tri-color phenomenon of it.

"Your SOUL can get stronger when you gain LV, that stands for LOVE," he said. I wasnt sure that sounded right, Love didnt seem like the kind of word one would need to abbreviate.

"Down here, LOVE is shared through friendliness pellets," spinning orange shapes appeared on all sides, I eyed them suspiciously "Go on! Catch as many as you can!" Said the tree. I chose to go the opposite route, backing away as the shapes closed in on me.

The tree's expression changed, it was one of anger and hatred "Smart kid, aren't you," its voice was deeper, less calculated, more angry and bordering on psychopathic.

The pellets surrounded me on all sides, preparing to close in. The tree began to laugh, a cold and unfeeling cackle that sent a chill down my spine. The pellets were inches away from my skin, when suddenly they'd disappeared, the tree was gone. Something- no- someone- walked out if the shadows. He was tall, with white fur and horns, and a tossle of light brown hair at the top of his head, adorned with glasses, a blue shirt, khakis, and a grey cardigan.

"What a cruel creature, torturing such a poor innocent youth," he spoke in a softer voice, one that reminded me of how the guardians back at the community spoke to the younger children.

"I am Patton, caretaker of the ruins, come with me, I will keep you safe," Patton held a hand out, I accepted it after a few moments hesitation. Patton walked with me through an archway, into an elaborate structure, covered with vines and flowers. I felt something spark in me, I thought back to the sketchbooks in my backpack.

"Can I sit down for a second? That was a little scary," I said. Patton smiled and nodded, setting himself down in a pile of flowers between two sets of stairs. I sat down as well and pulled out a sketchbook, beginning to draw the things surrounding me.

"Oh! An artist!" Patton said excitedly.

I smiled and brushed it off slightly "Not so much artist as bored little kid with to much creativity," was my only reply as we sat there, trying to ignore the things my head was telling me.

----------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@nerosdayinhell

@that-artsy-gay

@official-lucifers-child

@spooky-scary-virgil

@youtuberswithalex

@misunderstoodshadowling

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 1: Pilot

Hey Prodigies. 

Welcome. My name is Jessica. I will be posting my weird thoughts/comments (with approximate time stamps) for every episode of Prodigal Son as I rewatch the episode. I like to be completely absorbed in the show the first time I watch an episode which is why, even for new episodes, this will always be a rewatch commentary.  

I’ve done this for some of my other hyper-fixations and I’ve had a lot of fun doing it so here I am making another one for Prodigal Son. I doubt anyone is interested in my thoughts but I’m just doing this for fun so sorry, not sorry. 

Here we go with episode 1

SPOILERS AHEAD

0:10 - Baby Malcolm is so freaking cute. 

1:00 - after 60 seconds I’m hooked. This show is incredible. Little boy watches his serial killer father become arrested? Yes. Please. What. A. Concept.

1:47 - Is Bright the only FBI agent on the premises? Maybe I’ve watched too much Criminal Minds but I thought FBI agents travelled in groups for cases?

3:34 - This scene. As a fandom, I feel like we don’t give the adorable actor who plays baby Malcolm enough props. Seriously, his facial expression combined with his delivery of the lines, “They call you a monster....are you?” Breaks my heart. Every. Time. It is the moment I fell in love with Malcolm as a character. Also side note - Michael Sheen is killing it as usual. 

5:10 - This cop shouldn’t be allowed to carry a gun. Seriously - can you say immoral?

6:24 - “Next time you call someone crazy, ask for their gun first.” He’s not wrong. In fact this line is amazing. 

7:00 - I think college!Malcolm is really interesting but that hair part is not ok. Also. The way he tries to hide his hand tremor in this scene is heart breaking. AND. The way Martin talks to Malcolm in this scene (as someone with a manipulative, abusive father who fooled family friends/teachers, etc. that he was a stand up guy) is truly haunting. He is putting up an amazing act. He is calm, kind, understanding, and concerned. He also killed people. That duality is just...upsetting.

9:04 - He sleeps in restraint with a mouthguard. Immediately I want to hug him.

10:04 - This conversation between Ainsley and Malcolm reminds me of my own brother and I (I was ten when my abusive dad left and he was 7, he doesn’t remember much but I do). My ability to connect this scene to my life is probably why I find the dynamic of Ainsley and Malcolm’s relationship so real and believable. These siblings are close, they can go from talking about real problems in their lives to teasing each other and whining about mom in an instant. 

11:00 - THIS. THIS HUG. IS. EVERYTHING. This scene is everything. This is the moment that I became curious about Gil. Who is he? Why does Malcolm (who has already been established as very emotionally wounded) trust him? And why does this guy care so much about the son of a serial killer?

12:05 - Is this the only time we see Dani chew gum?

12:10 - I love the way Bright is introduced to the team. You immediately see that Gil is Malcolm’s fake dad and that Malcolm is very socially awkward. 

13:00 - Something about this scene is reminding me just so slightly of BBC’s Sherlock. 

15:03 - Does no one else on the roof hear this conversation?!? You can see other people on the roof.

15:20 - I love how many subtle nods there are to Malcolm’s hand tremor in this episode.

16:12 - The interaction between Jessica and Malcolm is wonderful. It really showcases how extra Jessica is and how much Malcolm is suffering. Also the fact that Jessica’s pill holder is bedazzled is HILARIOUS.

18:00 - The only thing running through my head right now is how fine Tom Payne looks in that long sleeved polo. 

18:45 - Edrisa is a breath of fresh air. She is awkward and funny and she lightens up the very serious aspects of this show. 

19:00 - “He’s the killer right? We agree?” JT is honestly such an underrated character. He’s honest (a little blunt) but he also has a huge heart. Also the line about Malcolm not sleeping is heartbreaking. 

20:05 - ngl. The whole Edrisa/Malcolm dynamic (in the first few episodes) really grosses me out. It’s awkward and creepy. 

20:21 - What is JT’s facial expression here?!? That weird pout as he looks at the ground?! It’s hilarious but honestly sooo out of place in this scene. 

21:15 - Sooo the killer broke into Nico’s apartment. Why did he cover everything in plastic? I mean why? It’s so bizarre. Also - why did he hang out in the dark? He was just in the apartment. He definitely didn’t turn off the lights as he prepared to flee the scene.

22:10 - I love that Dani, the woman, is the officer to pursue the killer. Not JT who is the most physically imposing. 

23:15 - This scene always gets me. It’s just soooo crazy. I mean everything about it is just wild. 

24:40 - More of my boy and his shaky hand. <3

25:05 - As I rewatch this episode I notice all of the subtle looks that Gil gives Bright. They’re concerned looks. I love them. 

25:30 - It looks physically painful for Malcolm to swallow. :( Also the looks that Ainsley and Malcolm give each other as Jessica prattles on about Egypt are amazing. 10/10 would recommend.

26:00 - “Not with the sound on” Yikes. I like Jessica but she really needs to work on being a better mom to Ainsley.

27:27 - The lighting in the case room is suddenly flickering? Really? Well that’s convenient I guess. 

28:40 - Dani saving Malcolm is so important. She just met this guy. She clearly thinks he’s a little off. But she’s a good person. She wants to help him. She protects him from himself and the gun wielding police officers. 

28:55 - ....Malcolm put on a coat before he went to talk to Gil about his night terror? Interesting. 

29:00 - I love this scene. We find out about Jackie. We find out more about Gil. We see how much Gil cares about Malcolm. AND we can see JT and Dani in the background talking and looking over at Malcolm. It’s so good. Character development for the win. 

30:18 - Ok. So. Martin Whitly is an amazing artist. He drew those. Dang. 

31:07 - How did Martin manage to keep a medical license after killing all those people?!? 

31:10 - Martin and Malcolm’s first conversation in 10 years is so interesting. The dynamic of their conversation is complex and intriguing and honestly I could write a freaking novel about their relationship. 

34:35 - The first hint we get that Martin might care more about merely having company than having a relationship with his son.

35:40 - This scene is peak comedy. “Maybe you should draw your gun.” hahaha. 

37:48 - Malcolm has no sense of self-preservation. Honestly. He walks into a room containing an armed serial killer when he himself is unarmed. 

39:15 - This scene. Malcolm’s speech. You can see how much Malcolm hates himself. How much Malcolm hates his past. How much pain he carries. It’s haunting. 

40:48 - I love that even after finding out that Bright’s dad is a serial killer, Dani takes a minute to make sure that Malcolm is okay. She cares more about his wellbeing than his past. That’s an incredible distinction. 

41:23 - Gil’s speech. Gil’s story about Malcolm. Wonderful. Chef’s kiss. This is why I keep watching the show. The idea that the cop who arrested a serial killer became that fake dad to the serial killer’s son is such a beautiful and complex concept. I’m obsessed with the father/son dynamic between Gil and Malcolm. 

If you actually read all (or any) of this - Thanks for hanging out. I wish I could say that my thoughts for subsequent episodes will be shorter but honestly I forced myself to be brief with this one. 

Basically - I love this show. I’m someone who is, generally speaking, fascinated with character development and whump. This show is a gold mine for both. 

I’ll post again soon. Read it if you want. Or not. I’m mostly posting this for myself. Because you know, COVID-19. I’m at home. I have way too much time alone with my thoughts and doing this is fun. 

[aion-rsa]

Garbage Pail Kids At 35: The Kids Are Alright

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Presented by:

This story appears in the Den of Geek x eBay special edition trading card magazine.

Garbage Pail Kids gave birth to my anti-authority streak. I was in fifth grade waiting for art class to start and showing off my prized Ashcan Andy to enraptured classmates when my teacher walked in the classroom, sighed, confiscated the card and proceeded to rip it up. “This junk has no place in an art room,” she stoically declared as Andy was transformed into sad confetti before my eyes. Years later, I came to realize that this demonstration was all about jealousy – these cards had instantly engaged students in art in a way that her years of teaching never could.

And let me be clear here: Garbage Pail Kids are most definitely art. Often grotesque and always eye-catching, the unfortunate children showcased on these cards fostered an interest in painting, illustration, and design for generations of kids since Topps first introduced them back in 1985 (their pun-heavy names also were a gateway for subversive humor). After 35 years, Garbage Pail Kids have become a cultural institution—not to mention schoolyard contraband for nearly four decades, an unexpected bonus that would make the creators of these cards—veterans of the counterculture themselves—beam with pride.

To trace the origins of Garbage Pail Kids, a brief history lesson is in order. Although they were best known for their baseball cards, the Topps Company also had huge success with bubblegum cards based on popular films and TV shows. Further expanding their creative pallet, Topps released numerous humor card lines, the most popular of which was Wacky Packages. Like Mad Magazine before them, these stickers showcased parodies of contemporary products with bitingly accurate focus. 

In the early 1980s there was no bigger consumer frenzy than the Cabbage Patch Kids. These dolls from Xavier Roberts and Coleco featured an elaborate backstory and cloyingly adorable looks that became the stuff of toy legend (news reports featuring near riots as parents tried to get their hands on the damn things were commonplace in the early 1980s). 

Naturally, then, Cabbage Patch Kids were an ideal target to get the Wacky Packages treatment. But the decision was wisely made by Topps execs that Garbage Pail Kids could be a card line of their own. Spearheading the project was underground comics legend Art Spiegelman (who would go on to win a Pulitzer Prize in 1992 for his groundbreaking holocaust graphic novel Maus), Raw comics anthology contributor Mark Newgarden, and artist John Pound. 

Pound, a veteran of painting fantasy and science fiction book covers, was brought by Spiegelman to illustrate the original Wacky Packages “Garbage Pail Kid” card (featuring one of the dolls pushed into a trash can and touting orders to send the unfortunate soul to the Department of Sanitation). Though this Wacky Pack was shelved, Pound single-handedly painted all the characters featured in the first Garbage Pail Kids set. “They liked the idea sketches I sent in,” he says, “and asked me to do all 40 paintings in two months, which was faster than I was used to, but I got organized and made the deadline.” 

Working with Spiegelman, Newgarden, and Topps creative favorite Jay Lynch to craft ideas, Pound’s early characters included the now iconic Adam Bomb, and remain some of the most beloved in the line (for the record, Pound names Adam Bomb, Up Chuck, Jolly Roger, and Mona Loser as some of his favorite creations). 

Looking back over three decades later, Pound sees several reasons why Garbage Pail Kids have endured:

“The original concept had strengths: doing a parody of the famous Cabbage Patch Kids, and a name that was both clear and familiar sounding,” he says. “The concept’s rebellious attitude and shock value gave it initial attention. Also, in the ‘80s, Topps products were widely distributed, like in drug stores, variety stores, convenience stores.”

Although he freely admits that “I wasn’t expecting it, but Garbage Pail Kids became a huge hit,” Pound says aesthetic concerns were foremost on his mind when painting these garish figures. “On my end, despite the abundant gross humor and shock value, I simply wanted the art to feel good to look at. And I tried to put love into the paintings.” 

The care with which these outlandish cards were created was appreciated by consumers. Fifteen different series of Garbage Pail Kids were produced between 1985 and 1988. There was spinoff GPK merchandise too, ranging from folders emblazoned with images of popular characters to the on-brand/subversively named Cheap Toys. The Garbage Pail Kids Movie was released in 1987 with The Facts of Life co-star Mackenzie Astin in the lead. On that topic, The Toys That Made Us and A Toy Store Near You creator Brian Volk-Weiss sums up the flick perfectly: “That movie is so bonkers even seeing it is not believing it. It reminds me in a weird way of a low budget Batman and Robin in that it was like a ton of people were involved with the green light and execution and seemingly had no oversight on any matter.” 

But as far as Volk-Weiss is concerned, a new motion picture has plenty of potential. “I would love to see them do a ‘serious’ reboot that would be similar to the first Guardians of the Galaxy film in that they take the characters and the world seriously,” he states, “but the fun and humor and oddness stays intact too.” While there may be a future on screen for New Wave Dave and company, whatever it turns out to be must avoid the mistakes of the infamous 1987 cartoon series – which was produced for CBS but never aired due to the then-ongoing controversy surrounding the franchise (it eventually landed on DVD, and the less said about it the better.)

Despite a lull in any new products that lasted from the late 1980s until 2003, Garbage Pail Kids never really left the public consciousness. If anything, they were inspiring new talent. Enter Buff Monster. The Hawaii native and prolific street artist known for his upbeat, ice cream-inspired work was so inspired by Garbage Pail Kids that he created his own line of sticker art cards, The Melty Misfits. With names like Mind-Blowin’ Owen (featuring a cameo by a very Adam Bomb-esque character) and Bam Bam Sam, these intricately designed stickers—created on the type of antiquated machinery that Garbage Pail Kids were made on—come complete with a retro-styled wax pack and showcase Buff Monster’s own unique aesthetic as they pay homage to the Topps line.

Talking about why he personally connected with Garbage Pail Kids, Buff Monster makes a salient point on why these things were so memorable in the first place. 

“If you look at most trading cards, they are less than what they’re about. Having a baseball card is a ‘less than’ experience than watching the game. If you’re watching a baseball game in person, that’s great, but watching a baseball game on TV is actually better because you’ve got commentary, and you’ve got playback, and all this sort of stuff,” he tells us.

“But Garbage Pail Kids stand out because the art was made for the cards, so the card was the thing. The card wasn’t some sub-version of something else. It was the point of making the art in the first place. And so that has always stuck with me. And that is really kind of what it comes down to for me.”

Buff Monster’s The Melty Misfits stickers are a burgeoning phenomenon for the 2020s, just as Garbage Pail Kids were for the 1980s. It’s understandable that he is partnering with eBay for a special pack of The Melty Misfits, some of which will come packaged with a random “Golden Ticket” card that will entitle the recipient to have Buff Monster create a character of their choice. 

“This pack that we’re going to do is a nice little introduction to me and eBay working together,” he says. “This is a very easy thing for the completist to get. And that’s good.” 

It’s clear when talking to Buff Monster that Garbage Pail Kids continue to inspire. And the cards themselves feel more vibrant than ever, way more relevant today than the doll that inspired them in the first place. Case in point? Recent political and horror-themed Garbage Pail Kids sets (which are really one and the same when you think about it) have brought old fans back into the fold. 

Another example of booming Garbage Pail Kids interest is the 2017 documentary 30 Years of Garbage: The Garbage Pail Kids Story. The film’s writer and (with Jeff Zapata) co-director is Joe Simko, himself an accomplished artist and graphic designer who has worked on the card line and IDW’s spinoff Garbage Pail Kids comic, as well as his own series of The Sweet Rot graphic novels and his Cereal Killer trading cards. Simko vividly remembers when Garbage Pail Kids entered his life.

“I first discovered Garbage Pail Kids when I was 10 years old while riding the school bus. A couple of kids were sharing them,” Simko says. “It was the second series, and I just remember that artwork jumping out at me. Never had I seen such appetizing visuals on a trading card before. I knew instantly they were an attack on the highly successful Cabbage Patch Kids dolls, which dominated the kid’s market landscape at the time. Garbage Pail Kids were such a great middle-school kids protest to that cutesy Cabbage Patch world.”

Simko has been a part of Garbage Pail Kids lore since 2009, and during that time has given the Garbage Pail Kids treatment to everything from Stranger Things to Universal Monsters. “I think my favorite Garbage Pail Kids projects are the licensed product paintings I get to do,” he says. “For instance, the Garbage Pail Kids cereal for FYE was just so great to work on. Doing cereal box signings at the FYE pop-up shop during San Diego Comic-Con was an overwhelming experience. Greeting Garbage Pail Kids fans, when I too am a fan, is amazing.”

When I mention the brand’s longevity to Simko, he is quick to sum up their continued popularity. “Garbage Pail Kids have lasted this long due in part to the dedicated group of collectors who grew up on the series in the ’80s. Yes, there are younger kids buying them today, but the nostalgia it brings to those grown-up kids keeps the spirit and revenue of the Garbage Pail alive.”

Bringing things full circle, he also vindicated myself and everyone else who was ever frowned upon for appreciating the cards’ artistic merits.

“They are a true form of art. To pass judgement on them and reject these cards as ‘art’ because of the subject matter, is to have a narrow perspective of what art is,” Simko says. “Credit goes to the original creators of the Garbage Pail Kids cards during the 1980s, Art Spiegelman and Mark Newgarden. Art and Mark knew the ingredients to make GPK work. And of course the artists, John Pound, Tom Bunk, James Warhola, and Jay Lynch, were the ‘cooks.’ They made it taste and look perfectly gross. Without any of these creative minds, I believe Garbage Pail Kids would not be the success it became at the time.”

Despite being anchored to a fad from the 1980s, Garbage Pail Kids are ultimately timeless. Children of all ages will always take to the goofy grossness that is embedded in the line’s DNA. Nostalgia is a potent thing too, but as recent years have illustrated, Topps is always looking to evolve the IP, be it through virtual Garbage Pail Kids, high-end collectible figures, or just by continuing to bring in great artists to keep the bread and butter of the franchise—the card line—going strong. These Kids may be pushing 40, but in the heart of fans, they’ll never age.

Garbage Pail Kids eBay x Topps Exclusive 

The 10-card set created by Joe Simko is the first exclusive from eBay and Topps. Each card is representative of buying and selling on eBay. The set will be available for $19.99 on eBay for one week starting on August 10. 

The post Garbage Pail Kids At 35: The Kids Are Alright appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30gkomP

[angelspigeon]

Rewrite the Stars - Chapter 02

Please go on AO3 to see Naotoosh’s awesome art!! I love was she is doing so much and i’m always blessed when she accepts to take my commission (plus her commission are open if I am right!!)

|  °|

When the spectacle had been over, Lea had received his own trailer. It was really tiny. Just having the place for a bed. But he wasn’t surprise. That was like that. He was new. He couldn’t have the same privileges as other. They didn’t know him. They even didn’t have shared the meal with him. He had eaten, of course… but alone, on his side.

Lea could have stayed in his trailer. He should have but… But he wanted to walk a bit. Know the place…

Maybe already train for a number?

Prove his value?

Just do something with his life?

He came outside, under the full Moon, and walked through the trailers. If he noticed the animals in their cage, there weren’t anyone outside. The windows were displaying light from everywhere and it was easy to wander here.

Though, as he moved along the circus area, he noticed someone. The moonlight was gleaming, reverberating on different area and this one especially. He jogged to them and smiled when he noticed Kairi, her arms on the side of a huge aquarium. The huge aquarium were everybody was gathering earlier.

“’Night,” he said.

“Night! If you’re still here, I suppose you’re one of us, right?” she smiled.

“Yes!”

“That’s what you wished from the beginning?”

“Yes!” he smiled. “I left my other Circus. Radiant Garden Circus.”

“Oh… A lot of us are coming from there!” she replied. “How many… hm…” She started to count of her fingers. “Well, with you, more than ten, for sure!” she joked, showing her hands. “Why did you leave the Circus?”

“It was hell… I really couldn’t stay there. I ran away… Took the first train. But I couldn’t just stay outside, wandering. You know how it is.”

“Actually… no?”

Lea was surprised but, yet, smiled slightly.

“Well… Me, I can only be a freak. I never had a home…” He looked down. “I couldn’t become an accountable or anything. I had to find another Circus.”

“So you ended here. Why here?”

“It could have been anywhere else. It’s just the first Circus I heard about, the first I found.”

“I see…”

“But you?!” Lea asked with a smile.

“I was born at Radiant Garden but Xemnas wanted to have me in his spectacle. He said he bought me. Someday, I’m asking myself if he really bought me like he would have bought fish at the supermarket?” she asked, letting go a giggle.

“Fuck… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry!! It was longtime ago. I think the things would have been the same if I was here or there! I’m Kairi, by the way!” she said, moving his hand to him so he could shake it.

“You’re strong!” he complimented, shaking it back.

“Thank you!”

“What’s your spectacle? I’ll cheer you up!” Lea said.

“I don’t have a spectacle,” she replied.

This time, the man frowned.

“But you said he wanted you for his spectacle?”

“Yes. But… he couldn’t actually put me in the spectacle. I’m not a talented magician like Luxord, nor a Lady Muscle like Lexaeus or Xaldin. Though they’re not ladies,” she added in a low voice, as if it was a secret.

She was still smiling.

“But then…”

She let out a giggle and jumped in the water. It splashed and Lea was immediately wet from the tip of the hair to the feet. But, especially, he saw a big pink fish tail, shining under the beam of the Moon.

Then the water splashed again and he let out a laugh.

She jumped out of the big tank and swirled, grabbing her tail to release it and land in the aquarium, making more water pass above the edge.

Her head appeared again outside, showing her beautiful smile.

“You’re a Mermaid!”

“I am!”

“A real one!”

“Yes!”

“Woaaah!” Lea said, blinking.

“You really came here because you have to go somewhere if you didn’t know this Circus owned a real Mermaid!”

“Yeah. But people believe this?”

“Not all,” she replied. “But there are so many others people willing to buy my scales. Or the water of my tank!”

“No way?!”

“Yes way!”

They both laughed.

Lea moved his hands and showed his palm to the young lady. He could see the tail move under the Lights around and he brought even more gleam. Fire came from his skin in a perfect ball that turned in big flame, trying to reach the top of the Circus tent.

“You’re doing fire?!” she said.

“Yeah!”

“That’s awesome!”

“It is!!”

Well, honestly, that made him a freak and, once he had stopped to impress people, he was just a Monster. And he didn’t even really impress people. They all believed he was using fire coming from somewhere else. He was just an artist like the other. With the disadvantage to receive the hate every Beast could receive…

It was stupid but, somewhat, he was happy to have meet her. To have someone he could share this experience with. She didn’t even received a spectacle, just has to be there, at the mercy of the crowd. And he already saw child with aquarium: obviously she would have to deal with people knocking that window all the time.

It turned out that Kairi slept only in water. She went to go “in bed” when Lea discovered her. So, after a bit of discussion, he let her and just walked back to his trailer.

It was stupid, maybe, but the fact he had found a friend gave him a feeling to be at home… He still would have to do a lot of work but he could have his place here! He had found someone. Someone as special as him!

As he passed in front of a trailer, he heard sounds. Groans, moans, breath and heavy sighs. He blushed a bit, not that surprised. At Radiant Garden, there was some couple too and you could hear them too. Like that, you could see the trailer quite harshly. He didn’t paid more attention and walked to his own trailer, planning to sleep.

He was twenty or thirty paces away when he heard the voice of the Ringmaster, making him stupidly turn his head.

“Stay,” Xemnas had said.

“I can’t stay. Demyx needs me.”

“He doesn’t need you.”

“Sir… I really can’t stay.”

“I want you to stay.”

Lea walked on the side, frowning. Being a Traveler Performer, being a Circus Artist for so long, it was just normal to him to rely on his Ringmaster, hence why he turned, but this… this he didn’t like it: the conversation turned weird.

“You’re mine…” Xemnas’ voice came out.

“I’m all yours, Sir,” Saïx replied. “ Now and ever. However… I can’t stay. Please, Sir…”

“When will you stay?”

A silence.

“One day…”

“One day, I won’t leave you the choice, Saïx.”

Silence again.

And then, the sound of the door closing echoed.

“You never leave me the choice…”

This time, Lea moved toward Saïx who was putting on a white large pullover over his chest and his jeans.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Saïx turned quickly to him, a cold and frightened look on his face. He stepped back and shook his head before leaving.

Lea didn’t know what this meant.

He watched him move away.

Not going to the trailers lot but somewhere else.

Lea was new here. He knew nothing. No one. But there… he felt something. He felt a sadness coming through him and he did have heard their conversation, could grab a part of the situation.

Maybe this was bad.

Certainly?

He hated himself but he tried to find him. What he had heard? It was bad! Really bad! Saïx maybe needed to talk? Maybe he had badly understand something and everything will be eased when they’ll talk. If Saïx accepted to talk with him because he looked like he didn’t want to talk with him…

But he was worried.

Really worried.

He went at the place he saw Saïx leaving away and walking, he just came out from the lot of trailers. He could think he was on the bad path but he also had the feeling he wasn’t so wrong… He continued to walk until he noticed the man standing next a lake which reverberated the big Moon in the black mirror formed with the calm water…

Lea could have leave, let him there because he was doing nothing wrong, just watching the water.

But…

“You didn’t try to catch you up.”

Saïx jumped once again and turned his head toward him. This time, his eyes were animated with rage. Maybe because tears were rolling along his cheeks. And when the man hugged himself, Lea could read disgust.

Toward him?

For himself?

“Who are you?” Saïx asked.

“Name’s Lea. I’m com…”

“I was there when you introduced yourself. Why are you here? Why are you losing your time?”

Lea couldn’t reply. Maybe it was because he saw his sadness and was willing to do something? He didn’t want to let him alone, suffering. Especially because the two times he truly had seen him, he only seemed to be draped by sadness and horror. It was a lot.

“I don’t have many things to do. I thought… you could wanna talk?”

“Talk? With you?”

Lea looked around him and scratched his nape.

“I don’t see anyone else? Unless you want to talk with the squirrel? Look at those!”

The guy moved his hands to show the fireflies dancing around.

“They aren’t squirrels,” Saïx replied.

“Nooo, but I think they sleep?”

“Probably, yes.”

“And the fireflies are beautiful… The mosquitos will be less fun, though… But if you look correctly, you may see cool animals!”

“Like snakes, camels, elephants and lions? For example?” he asked, hugging himself a bit more.

“Uh… you win!” Lea laughed.

“You said you came from Radiant Garden Circus?”

“Yeah! I talked a bit with Kairi and… that’s the reason the boss accepted me, right? The boss.”

Saïx nodded. “Xemnas has a special relationship with them.”

“You’re coming from there too?” Lea asked, approaching him.

“Yes.”

“May I ask what happened? Why did you…”

“Xemnas bought me.”

Lea remembered that was the same thing for Kairi. He watched as Saïx sat on the edge of the lake, arranging his pullover. But a shoulder keep showing and he hugged himself even more if it was possible.

So, Lea approached him. He had a yellow scarf around his neck so he just untied it and laid it softly on Saïx’s shoulders. The acrobat was surprised one second then calmed down and grabbed a side of the fabric.

“Thank you.”

“Can I sit?”

“Yes… The square is for everyone,” Saïx replied.

Lea sat next to him.

“So… why did you not catch yourself?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Saïx asked. He frowned slightly. “I’m Isa.”

“I thought you were called Saïx?”

But now, he remembered that the young man had called him ‘Isa’ too when he was so worry for him.

“That’s the name Xemnas gave me. He adds an X in the things he owns. It’s my artist name, in a way.”

“’kay, Isa. And the young man? The one afraid for ya?”

“He’s my little brother. Demyx.”

Lea frowned.

“It’s his real name,” Isa said. “He’s just an assistant. He loves to play music. However he doesn’t participate at the different spectacles.”

Lea was almost sure he had heard him mumble ‘it’s better like that’.

“I see.”

Isa closed a bit more his fingers around the yellow fabric.

“You’re thinking I’m an awful person, am I right?”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t catch myself. I wanted to fall on the floor in front of thousands people, in front of my dear little brother…”

Lea didn’t say ‘I though we wouldn’t talk about it’ because he was actually happy they have this discussion. Happy Isa could free the weight on his Heart…

“I don’t think you’re an awful person. I’m rather worried on why. The crowd, I can understand. You don’t care. But you seem to really like your little brother. When I hear your voice when you talk about him… I can tell you truly care for him…”

“I do. He’s the most important. I know… I know I shouldn’t have to do but when I was at the top…” Isa looked to the Moon in the sky. “When I was flying… There was nothing else. Nothing. And I fell. There was nothing too. I wanted…”

“To fly forever, right?”

Isa nodded.

“You don’t have to support that.”

“I have to,” Isa replied.

“No!”

“I’m his belonging!”

“And so it’s that, he made you believe you were an object?” Lea asked, bitter.

“What do you think I’m?” Isa replied. “He bought me. The only thing I was allowed to do was begging for my brother to be with me. I’m his belonging.”

“I think you know it’s wrong. I heard you. You talked back to him!”

“Did you heard when he said, one day, I will have to stay? One day, I will…” He closed his eyes. “One day, I will be so broken I will not be able to talk back. Today, I was able to do it because…”

Isa didn’t continue to talk, his eyes looking the reflect of the Moon in the lake. Lea could see in his eyes the desire to just jump in this Moon. Disappear. Fly forever…

Lea moved his hands and fire created, a bird appearing in it.

Isa couldn’t help but move back. Then, he blinked, looking the fire. Lea only watched him, the face slightly lighten by the flames, giving an orange color to his whole face, coming dancing in his hairs.

“How are you doing this?”

“I always have been able to do it,” he said. “I guess I’m a kind of Monster?” Lea laughed.

He breathed out on the bird that flew and turned around Isa’s head. The acrobat looked it, moving his face to follow the movement.

“This is not the oeuvre of a Monster. This is so beautiful.”

He moved his fingers and brushed the flames. He moved them back because of the burning feeling but not seeming annoyed at all.

“Thank you, Isa…”

“You want to do pyrokinesis show?”

“Yes!”

Lea caught back the bird and approached his hand from Isa. He didn’t touch him though.

“Can I?”

Isa nodded, still gripping the scarf with one hand. He couldn’t help but smile when the bird came in his palm. It was warm but nothing disturbing. It was really sweet, comforting, to be honest…

Lea stared again the face slightly warmed, painted with warm orange and red… He was so beautiful. He could understand Xemnas had wanted him but… seeing him with a slight smile, he wished it could live forever.

“I wish I can let you have it. But… I’m afraid you’d burn the whole Circus.”

“Yes,” Isa laughed softly. “Thank you, however.”

Lea watched him, his Heart beating fast.

“You have a pretty laugh,” he whispered.

“Hm?” Isa said, looking toward him.

Lea hesitated. He didn’t want to oppress him. With the whole situation, frightening him with unsolicited compliment was easy to happen. And he wanted to avoid it so much…

“You have a pretty laugh.”

“Thank you.”

Isa stared the bird and moved his fingers so he could caress it.

“And thank you for the talk. I… I needed it.”

“It’s a pleasure. If you need, come anytime. I know… I know you don’t know me but…”

“I believe it’s because I don’t know you it was easier… Here, I know some people since ten years. It’s hard to become weak at their eyes.”

“To be fair, when I saw you, you looked like a cold untouchable man. Like…” Lea scratched his head.

Isa smirked, passing his fingers under the fiery beak.

“A perfect doll?”

“Yes…”

“That’s pretty much what I have to be?”

“What do you want to be?”

Isa unfolded his legs and his feet brushed the surface of the lake. Tiny circles appeared and came to disturb the Moon reflecting inside.

“I want…” Isa let out a sad laugh. “I don’t know.”

“You have time?”

“I’m twenty-seven years old.”

“You’ve time.” Lea bent slightly toward him. “I don’t push you but really, if you need to talk, just come… I’ll be a listening ear. My shoulders are there for you. And my hand.”

Isa lean on him and kissed his cheek softly.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” Lea smiled.

[fandomplethora]

(ummm, i’m not sure what inspired to make this post (besides the fact that i have been listening to this artist on a near constant basis now) but here we go anyways;;;)

MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS AS HOBO JOHNSON SONGS

Hyun (Zen) - 3% 

“you should go and quit your job and make all of those dreams come true. how is your self esteem? huh? that's important in what you're about to do. don't talk to your friends, their opinions hold so much weight. and that doesn't make sense. even your family, parents just don't understand. make the time. drop school, and people, and work to play music all night. you'll make a dollar an hour, at least you'll like your life. and roll with the punches even when it feels like you're getting fucking jumped but you're a real bad judge of it. hold on tight, boy. might be a fuckin', hell of a ride. but, but, but, they said it's a three-percent chance...that I'm gonna make it. that's a little bit less than what it is in my mind but it's ok, I think I can take it. they said it's a three-percent, my friends, that's what they said. and then I sat there and thought about it and almost believed it for a sec. but I think that they'll love me.”

Yoosung - Mario and Link

“mario's never getting some and link's never getting some, so why would princesses love me? i'm not really making moves, I'm just kinda breathing. i work at fucking pizza places just so I keep eating. (that's the type of shit)...thats the type of shit to make be buy a flask for 25 and fill it up with takka vodka only 4.99...yester-year yes-sir-please let me get the recipe, to not being broke. fuck I'd really love to be a king, but mario and link should've showed that perseverance is not the end all to everything. the princess in the hallway with a robe, I asked "do you for coffee and scones and she says "no!". but I just killed a fucking dragon though! with this sword that I made from the words of my soul. I just killed a fucking dragon though, I just killed a fucking dragon though. but its whatever I don't even care that much.”

Jaehee - Peach Scone

“...disregard every time I call you pretty. though it's meant sincerely it's just my imagination drifting...so I fall to ground, collect myself and get ready to take over your heart...or at least your spare time. and I love the thought of being with you. or maybe it's the thought of not being so alone. the second one's way sadder than the first one...we should go get a cup of coffee...I don't know what to tell you if I try to confess my love for- scones! i just wanna tell you real quick please, shh, I love- these scones! ...but she, you know, she is just so sweet and she cared about me a lot when no one else cared about me and I think that's really nice. really you know, she's just a, she's just a peach. she's a peach scone. and I love the thought of being with her, I just really hope that she doesn't get hurt.”

Jumin - Father

“my dad taught me 'bout the story 'bout the birds and the bees. when the bees turn into wasps and take half of everything. he sounded sure, that a bird doesn't need a full nest but a bed for our bird heads to rest...he told me son, beware, of the monsters that roam the depths of your head. sometimes they'll make you real sad or or real real mad, or real real jealous and that's real real bad. boy, breathe...my father's married to a shape shifting monster who can sometimes take the form of a really really really nice woman. and although it seems super fucking frightening, sometimes this scary monster makes a really really great vanilla pudding. he has courage but sometimes your courage isn't quite the kryptonite as the monster runs rampant through the house. sometimes your courage makes you feel strong but it seems as if the monster eats your muscles all along, fucking pickin' out your self-respect right out its scary teeth. her breath smells like pride of self and other men she used to meet. and the monster doesn't sleep - just schemes and fiends on the next tasty meal it gets to eat, it gets to eat.” 

Saeyoung (Luciel) (707) (Seven) - The Ending

“she said, "you're like the weird...guy...in all the movies, who turns into the hero at the end and gets the girl" and I was like, "shut your mouth". but I'm gonna take over...the world as soon as everybody dies. i'm gonna take over your heart as soon as I get the balls to try. Ima re-arrange the alphabet and then take "U" and "I" and put a bit of space between 'em and hope that nobody cries. ...Ima be a nice guy might fuck around, it make a difference. Ima hope for the best, but prepare for the worst...I hope that you don't fall into their schemes and what they say, when you look them in their eyes, that they don't choose to look away...I hope that you don't fall into my schemes or what I say. when you look me in the eye, I'll look you dead into the face 'cause you don't deserve to be fucked with unless you're a fucking asshole...yeah, I ain't shit I ain't shit compared to them, right? I ain't shit. and I know she wants a piece of this wit (no!) and I know she wants a piece of this wit. my wit, my wit, my wit...” 

Jihyun (V) - Romeo and Juliet

“we're just romeo & juliet but getting drunk and eating percocets. but just to ease the stress but soft what light, thru yonder window breaks it is the east - but juliet just puked off the balcony. how romantic. nothing like getting drunk and getting manic on a motherfucking monday, i brush the bangs behind her lovely little ear as she describes in detail how the end is truly near. wow, and I'm sure that we can do this for forever or until we drink the poison, 'cause she sees some cloudy weather. ...dear shakespeare, could you write a happy ending please? we just deserve a happy ending please, please. ...and every sting from every teardrop from every ring at every pawn shop. ...but dear mom, conversations from a couch haven't ever felt the same...my mom was made from adam's rib and the marriage went south...but dad loves to shout really loud. loud enough to knock the lamps and dressers to the ground. in my memory, i can hear chopin's nocturnes playing in the background, a slow trainwreck, you'll close your eyes, but forever hear the sound, and boy, it's tough. ‘cause that’s the sound of people falling out of love.” 

Saeran (Unknown) (Ray) - Jesus Christ

“jesus christ seems super nice, i wonder if he'd save me. i've been on the wrong side of a bunch of arguments lately. and jesus christ seems super nice, i wonder if he'd love me. how come I only wonder when I'm sad or really hungry? jesus christ, you're super nice but don't expect much from me. I would kneel down, but I'm afraid that I would just feel nothing. praise god and other things that don't make sense to puny minds, like ours, designing roller coasters that almost always seem to fall apart. ain't it fun, ain't it fun, ain't it fun knowing that. that one day, you know, I fly to the sky, to the sun? and jesus christ, you're super nice. so I'll write a song about it. or that no one ever knowing for always claiming they're about it. press "ignore" on both sides that always claim to know that they're so sure. or just not be a giant fucking prick and enjoy the show. I'll enjoy the show if I'm not a giant prick, does that just mean that I am saved? jesus christ, you're super nice, i'm sure that you could love me. even if I don't go to church every sunday. jesus christ, you're super nice, how could you let me burn? if I'm not murdering people, then smashing their fucking urn. but jesus christ, you're super nice, how could you let me burn? but if I go to hell, I'll grit my teeth and get to work.” 

? (Vanderwood) - Demarcus Cousins and Ashley *note: this one was more difficult because we are not shown much of vanderwood currently in the game though i do consider him a pivotal character - and one i want to get to know more as a player. we know vanderwood is a caring guy who can be rough around the edges - he’s also funny, awkward and, personally, charming. so, i look at this as him relating how he does care for those around him while comparing it to other shit he has seen. okay, analysis done. bye.

“I'm not a nice guy (he's not a nice guy). I go to jail sometimes (he goes to jail sometimes). but I am slowly getting better ever since a little lady wrote me such a lovely letter. I love breathing...I love drinking, but not enough to ever have to go to all those stupid meetings (let’s go)...I- I love you like the dog hates the leash and the leash loves the dog, like I love nothing else at all. love you like my dad loved my mom before they realized they don't love each other at all...I love you like bosses love to talk a lot of shit and like getting really mad when I quit, what? I love you like the bird hates november or just really really rainy windy weather. I love you like america loves to fuck things up and cops love to do things that are super unnecessary...and I love you like the stars love lonely eyes on seven consecutive friday nights.”

Mina (Rika) - Creve Coeur 1 

"hi," says the girl with the right eyes that pairs pretty well when she hits you with the soft smile. you can kinda tell that something's going on, but she's like a skrillex song that never drops, she'll never talk. she'll never talk about the feelings that she felt today. better kept inside of a fence, inside of a cage, inside of a safe. that's safe for her 'cause they just hurt. and she don't know why that god sauntered. I hope he's trying. she said, "I hope he's trying. do you think he's trying?" then I said, "I don't know" but I asked her, "what’s wrong?" she just nods her head. and then I asked her, "what's wrong?" and she said...hold me closely. I don't think you should love me. I always feel so lonely knowing that nothing will ever last forever. sorry, you're much too late, much too late. ("you are so late")...she holds her breath all day and fucking gasps for air at night. she promised she would love me but only 'til the morning time. sorry, you're, you're much too late. you're much too late, you're much too- sorry, you're much too late- much too..."

MC - ? (MC is more difficult...I almost can find lines from various songs but it came down to these two.)

#2 - Mover Awayer (and it’s mainly for this part only.)

“fear  the man who lives without love and  the lover who lives without fear. fear the man who always wants to fight, he's not a talker. fear  the talker who never wants to fight, he's got no guts. fear the man who knows he's gonna die so he cries every night and just denies his life's beauty. and  fear the man who has heaven in his plans, so he gets so complacent that he doesn't call his family. fear the man who doesn't understand that there's a million fish in the sea, but fear the girl who he really thinks is a different species, she'll rip your heart out. ...makes my Mondays feel like Fridays (give me a break)...makes my Ruby Tuesdays taste like Benihanas (give me a break) and all I've really wanted was for us to get along.”

#1 - Typical Story (I genuinely won’t even put the lyrics for this song because it is more about the theme and feel of the song itself - as MC is the only one “playing” and going through these character’s “stories”. Casual, Deep or Another. So, I will just recommend listening to it and reading the artist’s notes on it for why I picked it as number one for MC’s song.)

[doomedandstoned]

AS I DIE AT MY DESK

Interview by Shawn Gibson

Can you tell me the meaning of the band name As I Die At My Desk? I imagine dying in a cubicle in corporate hell!

The honest answer to this is that it was a joke. I overheard a co worker say it at work and I thought it would be a hilarious band name. It is also a bit ironic as I always told myself that I would do work I truly love and follow my passions as they tell you that stuff in high school and college and it hasn't worked out that way for me yet! I am not deterred. I do get to make music in my spare time. Music gets to be my fun escape. It gets to be my artistic outlet that I don't have to share if I don't want to. All that aside I am a man who loves to laugh and loves to joke. Despite the themes and sounds of the music which are very real and emotionally heavy for me, the band name was a way to take the piss out of the situation. I can laugh at myself for being a weirdo who likes heavy music, where people scream and howl like demons and laugh even harder at how ridiculous I must look doing that in the bedroom for my music. I am pretty serious about most things, but I have to remember to have fun. That is what I think is important. I'm sorry it's not a very metal answer!

Suicide as Cleansing by As I Die at My Desk

You do everything in As I Die At My Desk, all instruments right?

Yes, I do all instruments and my main goal is to try to not suck. I actually record through a pre amp and I use different virtual amp sims like Amplitube for my tones. I used my Sterling by Music Man John Petrucci 7 string guitar, Ibanez BTB7 7 string bass, and an Alesis brand electric drum set for this record. It's a pretty basic setup, but given the size of my recording space, it's the best I can do. I have been writing for the past eight years or so. This is my first attempt at a metal release despite the fact I am a huge metal head! I was pretty happy with what I was able to do by myself.

What are your influences musically?

My influences range from classical music to jazz to anything under the rock umbrella. I am particularly interested in Soviet era composers. Dmitri Shostakovich, Sergei Prokofiev, and Igor Stravinsky. The first instrument I started playing was a cello at age 10. I graduated college in 2016 and gave a recital featuring Shostakovich and Prokofiev. The desperation and darkness they were able to convey so beautifully have influenced me greatly. I don't have a lot of experience with jazz, but the works of Coltrane, Thelonios Monk and especially Miles Davis have influenced me, as well. I just love especially experimental music and anything that ties to reshape and reform the genres wherein they find themselves pigeonholed. My music doesn't really sound like it to me, but Dream Theater and Iron Maiden are two of my favorites. I didn't actually start to get into doom or sludge until college. Now I love that stuff! Eyehategod is one of my newer favorite bands, as well as Sumac and YOB.

What are some of your favorite books and movies?

I tend to read non-fiction. I am a big history nerd. However I have spent a lot of time in the fiction world, as well. Some of my favorites are Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Twelve Chairs by Ilf and Petrov. I am a big Lynch and Tarantino fan! Blue Velvet and Eraserhead are two of my favorite films. Reservoir Dogs had a really big impact on me, as well. I first saw it when I was 14. It was so gritty and real to me then. That was a very realistic show of violence.

Are you a fan of horror books or movies?

I was a bigger fan of horror when I was in high school. I must have read every Stephen King a dozen times. I don't tend to like a lot of horror books or movies. There are some exceptions, I love monster movies. Give me Jaws or Godzilla any day! I tend to like movies that are creepy or unsettling, but I don't get into paranormal stuff. There are plenty of flesh and blood horrors in our world that are much more terrifying than ghosts.

You have some very heavy music with some very dark themes. What inspired 'Suicide As Cleansing' as your album title?

I am depressed and have anxiety. What more is there to say? To answer your question, though, the title popped into my head one day. I remember I was reading something on social media about mental health and the act of suicide. Someone described suicide as an act of cleansing. That idea stuck with me and I thought about it for quite some time. I decided to use that in an overall positive way. I thought that since I was channeling my negative and destructive feeling into my music, I was attempting to kill myself. Attempting to kill a bad part of myself that I don't want to have to deal with all the time and thus conducting a cleansing of sorts. I wanted that to be the album title because it reflected the whole reason I was making the record. It doesn't help to keep those feelings bottled up cause they fester. I urge anyone who has suicidal or self harming thoughts to seek help. Talk to people; they will listen. You may feel like it doesn't help, but it does. I struggle, but I feel better when I know I'm safe to talk about it. Here's why I give my wife a huge shout-out for being so supportive and understanding!

What was the inspiration for your songs on 'Suicide As Cleansing'?

The inspiration for this whole record was feeling trapped and depressed. Modern day life appears to be doing that for younger generations these days. Waking up one day and realizing careers that you were dead set on are no longer sustainable. Seeing all of the political strife becoming more prominent and ruining friendly and familial relationships. We live in a very depressing world. I don't need to get into all the issues facing us but there are many and enough that are potentially world ending are enough, to make anyone uneasy. In that way I feel that genuine themes of feeling trapped, powerless, isolated and really angry are appropriate.

I would say "No Pride" is one of my favorites. The gallop of the drums, the riff! I feel myself rocking and swaying. Definitely banging my head!

Thanks! It might be my favorite song on the album. It was actually fun to record that one and I did it in far fewer takes than the other ones.

"Trapped In The Bass-Ment" is hypnotizing! It's almost a chance to catch your breath from the other six songs that precede it!

I appreciate the comments! The whole track was written and recorded in one sitting. I am a big fan of drone and ambient music so it seemed fitting. I felt that even I needed a break after "No Pride." It just hit me really hard in conjunction with all the earlier tracks. I worried it might be boring for people, but I silenced that voice. I try to make music for myself, but I really appreciate it when people like my work!

"Annihilate Me" is the equivalent of the musical Dim Mak! Nine-minutes-and-fifty-eight seconds of destruction! Tell me about this song.

"Annihilate Me" was written over a span of about three days. I was in the middle of a very depressive episode and I remember sitting down with my guitar and playing the heaviest, angriest, gnarliest stuff I could get out of it. There was no preconceived plan as to lyrics or vocals. After I recorded the guitars and drums, I screamed anything that came to mind. It was a very cathartic episode and I view it as the perfect ending to an unpleasant journey.

Where did the artwork for 'Suicide As Cleansing' come from? What does it mean to you?

The cover art is a photograph taken from my lovely wife, who gets another shout-out. We were hiking at the Englewood Metropark and we noticed the tree almost all by itself. She took a bunch of photos of it because it was cool and interesting, also creepy. One thing I remember clearly, was the tree's base was covered with these beautiful yellow flowers. In a way I felt it represented the album. The tree itself was dead and bare. It was a little unsettling especially in the photos my wife took. The fact that life had sprung from this dead tree seemed to fit this theme of killing a part of yourself or perhaps a rebirth.

Calculating the Cost of Existence by As I Die at My Desk

Your second album 'Calculating The Cost of Existence' (2019) came out in December. What can you tell us about the new project?

I will say in terms of sound, the new record came out with a different sound. It's a doomy, sludgey mess for sure. There are more introspective parts included. The music is expressing a greater array of feelings than the first.

Another one-man effort?

Yes, I did all the instruments again. As long as I possess the tools to do it, it certainly makes it easier in the creative process not having to deal with other personalities or egos on something so deeply personal to me. Now with that said, I don't mind collaborating or anything in the future.

Is that strenuous at times doing everything in the band?

The worst part about recording is I am not the best musician. It is strenuous when I have to perform everything and I am not that great. (laughs) My skills on guitar and drums are intermediate at best. I have played bass longer so I am a much more confident bass player than I am anything else but that's not saying a lot. It also doesn't help that I don't like the sound of my voice. I fancy myself as a composer, not a performer.

As I Die At My Desk is from Dayton Ohio right?

Yes, the band is based out of Dayton, where I have lived for most of my life so far.

What are some bands from Ohio you love?

To be honest, I don't know a ton of bands from Ohio. I will say I am a fan of Mouth of the Architect and Others by No One out of Dayton, Cloudkicker out of Columbus. Oh I can't forget Skeletonwitch!

Have you been to Ohio Doomed and Stoned Fest?

This might be shocking but I have never heard of Ohio Doomed and Stoned Fest. So no I haven't been but I am certainly interested now!

Will As I Die At My Desk play live or tour down the road?

Well, As I Die At My Desk will probably remain a studio entity. As I said I wouldn't be opposed to any kind of collaboration or possible touring but I don't have any plans for that at the moment. Now for my pretentious answer. As an artist I do not want to feel confined to any one medium as it exists. As I Die At My Desk was born out of specific life circumstances. As long as these circumstances provide emotional weight and depth for me, this project will continue. Once that source dries up(if it ever really does) then I will move on to a new project. As it stands I have a few other projects that I am working on that I can't discuss much yet. Stay tuned!

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[aj-the-satyr]

All the Questions......

So Tag games...... Used to do ‘em a lot then kinda fell off writing for a while and then it got quiet. Well now I got tagged in 3 of those 11/11/11 things. You know the ones answer 11 questions, ask 11 more to the 11 people you tag. Well I’m not going to tag anyone other than the 3 people asking @writersblockandapotoftea @carrotgirl-1 and @rosewinterborn and say thankyou for doing so. So here goes..... the goat tries to get through all 33 questions.

1) Do you hide any secrets in your books that only a few people will find?

Hmm.... I suppose that I have a habit of making the names of both things and characters have deeper meanings. Like Grigory Zmeya, his last name means snake and he is a snake shifter type person. So stuff like that.

2) If you could ask one successful author three questions about their writing, writing process or books what would they be?

Not sure about this. I’ve read interviews with many authors where they have dispensed their advice and advice is not a one size fits all thing but I would lie to ask more personal things like favorite characters, Least favorite scene to write and most surprising side character. Stuff like that.

3) Do you have a library membership?

Nope.

4) Ebooks, yay or nay?

Used them and they are fine but I am the old school like to have the physical book in my hands kinda goat.

5) What feeling do you want your readers to get from what you write?

Wow, deep question. Enjoyment? Other than that I’d like them to have feelings for different characters, to pick favorites, to hate some and love some. I suppose I’d like my characters to be memorable but I will settle for the “That was Good” feeling after reading, even if nothing gets carried with them.

6) What time of day are you most productive?

Considering how many times I’ve written my snippets after 10pm and into the wee hours of the morning, I’d say then.

7) What is your writing Kryptonite?

Myself really. There are times I just get conflicted about my writing and rather than just let it flow and let the characters lead I will find myself deleting things and starting over many times. I’m trying to do that less but it’s hard sometimes to just let go and see what happens at the keyboard.

8) Which scenes are your favorite to write?

Huh....... I’m a dialogue heavy writer trying to get more description into my scenes so I favor just talking but am trying to change that a little.

9) What comes first in your development/outlining process plot or characters?

Well considering I don’t outline anymore (Used to waaaaay back) It would have to be characters. Make the characters and pop them in a setting. Plot will happen, hopefully.

10) What is your favorite novel to film/TV adaptadion?

Comic books count right? I love the Constantine TV show. Shame it got cancelled, love the fact they brought the character back for Legends of Tomorrow and the fact he might be getting his own show again is awesome. Love Constantine.

11) Do you think yourself as more of an artist or entertainer?

Neither really. Not something I’ve ever thought about, since you are asking me to think about it...... entertainer??

Right onto the second set of questions gonna add a read more break here to avoid taking up huge chunks of Tumblr real estate and for those people that don’t really care what this old goat has to say

12) Play fuck, marry, kill with Gandalf, Aragon and Arwen.

Er........ Kill Gandalf.... no wait he’ll come back for revenge..... Kill Aragon..... man that would be hard to do..... Kill Arwen then? But I wanted to marry her.......... Man...... Kill Aragon with Gandalf’s help, fuck Gandalf as payment and then go off to marry Arwen. Problem solved.

13) If you had to set fire to a famous building, which one would you set alight?

The Vatican?

14) If you could bring someone back from the dead who would it be?

It would be Sandra, a friend I made for a brief time on the internet who I RP’d with and had a good rapport with. She died of cancer at 20 I think, it’s hard to think about. I do always remember that I talked to her through her brother in her final days and managed to make her smile, something her brother told me she hadn’t done for weeks. Crying typing this. Yeah. Fuck yeah I’d bring her back and let her live her life. Fuck Cancer.

15) Which fictional Universe would you go into?

Star Trek. No need for money, could sit at a cafe and write all day. Great.

16) Where would you go if the world ended?

Hell. Oh wait that’s not what you were asking. Er...... nowhere. No point if it’s all gone is there? I’d stay here and still be a loner. Wow..... fun goat answers.

17) What’s you alignment?

Chaotic Neutral.

18) Lovecraft or Shelly?

Er....... as much as I love Cosmic Horror Mary Shelly was one of the most badass goths there has been. Plus the whole creating the sci-fi genre as a fuck you to Lord Byron. She is amazing and doesn’t get enough respect.

19) What’s the weirdest food you have eaten?

Sea Urchin or deep fried shrimp heads not sure which I think was weirder.

20) How do you want to die?

Die? I’m immortal. Or is that immoral? One of those.

21) Who is your least favorite character to write?

Probably The Professor since he’s a homophobic bigot who killed his own son’s boyfriend (Though he claims that was merely an accidental oversight of his grander plan) since he is not a very nice character at all. Makes my skin crawl.

22) What’s your favourite fairy tale?

Can’t say that I really have one. None of them resonate anymore, neither the grimdark originals or the fluffed up modern takes. I do however enjoy the book Dragon’s Bait by VIvian Vande Velde which is about a 15yr old girl who is put out as a sacrifice to a Dragon and ends up allying with the dragon and seeking revenge.

One more set. Almost there with the goat interrogation.

23) When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

Probably in University where I started writing a little something called “Space Gerbils” and was sending it out via email to about a dozen internet friends. They were hooked, I thought it was garbage but voila! The spark ignited. Heavily got into tabletop RPGs at the same time so that probably helped my desire for storytelling.

24) What book/Book series have you always meant to read but have not yet?

The Long Earth series by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter. I have a boxed set of them all but I just haven’t cracked the cover yet.

25) Who’s you favourite writer? 

Published? Either Sir Terry Pratchett or Eoin Colfer. But a special shoutout goes to @yuutfa for Caster. They are a wonderful storyteller and got many an emotion from me while I was reading an early draft.

26) What was your favourite book as a child?

It is one that sits on my shelf this very moment. It is called “Science Fantasy Stories” and is a collection of short stories that I read many times over as a child, back when I would consume a book a day almost.

27) Favorite music to work to?

Soundcloud generally has my back but it does sometimes throw up the odd track that makes me question if its algorithm has developed some sort of twisted intelligence Black Mirror style.

28) Hogwarts House?

Ah..... this question. I’ve read the books, saw a couple of the movies (Did not like the movies) and enjoyed every step of the way. I bought my first Harry Potter books when they were selling the first 3 as a set so I jumped in to see what the fuss was about. Never once have I thought about what House I would be in. Never. So Imma gonna say Slytherin.

29) Hobbies?

Writing?? Generally I play vidja games. Current faves being Monster Hunter World (PC), Endless Legend (PC) and Crash team racing nitro fueled (PS4) and I also daydream scenes with my characters in them. Trying to get back into reading regularly again.

30) Where do you draw Inspiration from?

Everywhere I guess. From random conversations to ideas had after playing games, watching TV or reading books. Sometimes I’m not sure where the inspiration comes from but I am just trying to let myself go at those moments, run with it. Who cares if The Simpsons already did it? Truly new ideas aren’t new anyway. (Except maybe for theoretical physics, that shit is bananas) I mean one of my characters basically declared themselves to be a God (At least in my head) after I read an article on Retrocausality. Inspiration can come from anywhere. Use it!

31) What do you consider your aesthetic to be?

Look I can barely spell that word you want me to have one as well?

32) Favorite mythology?

Favorite mythology of AJ the Satyr................

33) What do you think influences your work the most?

My co author?? But seriously working things out with them has been very helpful but also there’s this little writing discord that I’m part of that is really welcoming and a great source of inspiration and ideas. But all in all I think Neil Gaiman influences me the most when he answered a question about how he does it. He told the person asking that you just write everything down that happens in the first draft and then when you go back and rewrite you make it look like you knew what you were doing all along.

Right. One Goat, 33 Questions. And I won! Not tagging anyone else but I want this to get me going on these tag games. I can’t just hide in the dark corners of Tumblr anymore. I must face the light! Has @notanotherhour done this yet??