#holy shit encountered that exact issue

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: So, I was trying to work something out about Kafka's ass and the sparse amount of hair on it that he's self-conscious about but holy god, I couldn't do it. I started like 4 different things, all of which were not even close to what I was going for. So, here we are. With another idea I had about Florist!Kafka. I had this idea yesterday, I think. Thank goodness I can check this off of my to-do list. There are too many now. It's getting bad, guys. My feelings for this man are becoming an issue lol. Anyway. I about vomited when I finished this because the ending could not have been more perfect (for me?). I love it. I hope you guys like it too!

C/W ::: None. Just more smooshy lovey shit. Sorry not sorry. Maybe I'll carry on with this after the fact. Idk. Let me know if I should whip something up for later? Like after the initial thingy happens?

WC ::: 621 ish

Florist!Kafka has seen you walk past his little pop-up shop every day for the last 2 weeks and he feels like if he doesn't get to talk to you, he'll burst. He does what he can to get your attention and he'll smile at you. You smile back, politely, sure. But that's becoming not enough. He wants to talk to you. With you.

Florist!Kafka has had enough when he sees you making a run for it from one side of the street to the other when it's raining and he's sitting comfortable and dry under the large umbrella that covers his portable cart. He calls out, jogging toward you with an extra umbrella he has.

Florist!Kafka who trips over his own feet and goes flying through the air, knocking you over, too. You're both laying in the biggest puddle you've ever had the displeasure of encountering. Not only that, but he's lying on top of you, face to face. You can feel his breath fanning across the bridge of your nose.

Florist!Kafka who jumps up faster than he ever has gets right to work on helping you, making sure you're ok and that you didn't hit your head or anything like that. He apologizes profusely, offering you to come sit down at his cart to rest for a moment - to collect yourself, were his exact words.

Florist!Kafka who wanted nothing more than for you to take him up on the offer so he could spend more time with you. More importantly, so he could ease his mind and actually see you get some rest. You're always rushing off to one place or another and he wants to see you just "BE".

Florist!Kafka who is delighted beyond words when you agree to go sit with him for a moment, "to collect yourself," as he put it. You thought it was sweet how he was fussing over you. He wouldn't take no for an answer when he offered you a bottle of water. So, you took it, graciously. Thanking him for his kindness but reiterating that he doesn't have to go through this much trouble for you.

Florist!Kafka who disappears around the other side of his mobile stand for a couple of minutes and comes back with a single yellow rose with a bunch of black tulle floofed up around the stem and an unnecessary apology for you. He blames his uncharacteristically clumsy nature on how pretty you are - this isn't the first time you've made him slip up.

Florist!Kafka who blushes when he sees how happy his observation (and the rose) made you. He wants to ask you out so badly but he's not feeling the bravest right now - despite his ability to fight actual monsters when he's really "working". Love is a beast he has not conquered yet. Though he's reveling in the strength you give him just from being there. He could kill a thousand kaiju after a single kiss from you.

Florist!Kafka who hopes you are ok when he lets you leave him to go off and take a second shot at your day. He watches you all the way until you turn the corner at the end of the block and disappear. He smiles for the next 15 minutes straight because he got to be with you for a short amount of time. But still, he had some lingering thoughts.

Florist!Kafka who worries you won’t find the little note he put in the tulle. 

Florist!Kafka whose lingering thoughts were all shattered when his phone alerted him to a new notification; a text. From you! He opened his phone, scrolling right away to read the message ...

"Meet me where I fell for you. Come hungry. - Y/n"

@kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku

@reiners-milkbiddies @darkstarlight82

@bakubunny @supersecretsaga @katkusuo

[citizen-zero]

god it is very hard work trying to not turn into a cranky old “kids these days” bitch and it is a conscious effort that goes into it this work. it’s not hard to be compassionate and empathetic to kids and teens and it’s not hard to give them healthy validation and it’s not hard to remember the general principle that every generation of kids goes through the same basic struggles and challenges that don’t get easier no matter how much new tech they have

but then you’ll encounter some youths giving absolutely brain rotted takes online about like sex and relationships and social issues and other things that they have little or no real world experience with and then it’s like holy shit you are so fucking dumb you don’t know what you’re talking about oh my god

but also you are mandated by Heaven to be a stupid fuck at this age, and I too was a stupid fuck at your age. I was even a stupid fuck about the same exact topics and issues. It seems an exercise worthy of the zen masters to try to keep in perspective that everyone is a stupid fuck at many points in life but being an especially stupid fuck from ages 12-18 is inevitable. It can’t be helped. You have no agency over your life and you’re aware of it and you’re full of impotent rage. You are often compelled to exist under living and working conditions that no adult would tolerate and the state allows it as long as you’re not being physically harmed. You don’t have the ability to vote and so your power to affect change is reliant on the willingness of adults to take you seriously. So your only real recourse is to be a stupid fuck with extremely flawed opinions on the internet. But holy shit is it infuriating and often worrying.

Perhaps the real anger lies with your parents and other adults around you for not being better stewards of your mind and psyche. Maybe I’m just unfairly mad at my younger self for not knowing better. I’m definitely pissed off at the authorities whose stupid fucking policy and legal decisions are creating a world where it’s more difficult for you to self-educate.

But the point again is that it is that it requires conscious effort to not be a cranky old bitch about this kind of thing. I’m not always good at it and often I fail at it. It’s a work in progress.

[maideninorange]

How did Ruby and Danielle meet?

Oh! An OC question! I'm glad you asked! So I'll do my best to explain!

(Do note that since a lot of this isn't fully thought out quite yet, a lot of details are missing and may be subject to change in the future. This is more my idea of how I want it to go down.)

Danielle and Ruby ended up meeting about two weeks to a month (haven't decided a timeline quite yet, but somewhere around here) after the former ended up in Farside. The latter had been lonely wolfing it there for about a year and a half before then (so Ruby knows a thing or two about some stuff, though Danielle quickly catches up). As Danny had only been in Farside for so little time, she isn't anywhere near the level of troublemaker she ends up becoming by even the midpoint. This means that while she is certainly more on the cunning side, she's still a wimpy college student with only a bit of spellcasting knowledge and maybe one or two spell cards (which probably aren't hers to begin with). Ruby has four or five spellcards at this point, and knows nothing of the magic she is capable of. But since she's a really good swordswoman, she's more reasonably strong for the start, but can't cross the power gap a lot of does have over her like she eventually can later on quite yet.

Danielle and Ruby's first met when Danielle got attacked by a cunning pack of fairies, and found herself in over her head. Ruby, by a very lucky coincidence, happened to be on the exact same forest trail due to a bounty. As Ruby saw someone in danger, she quickly rushed in to fight them off. After one of those "Holy shit I'm still alive moments," Ruby ends up walking her to the next town (haven't decided what to call it yet), before continuing onto her bounty.

After that first meeting, Danielle and Ruby crossed paths on occasions throughout their stay in the same town. Not always on the right foot, since Ruby had an annoying penchant for catching Danielle stealing grimoires and more expensive ingredients she needs in order to run her makeshift shop. Though since (by this point in the story) Danielle was relatively harmless, Ruby regarded her as more of an annoyance than as anything worth worrying about.

It wasn't until after Danielle returns the favor that they start developing the close friendship (and eventual queerplatonic relationship) they eventually end up having. Due to a complex mystery solving gimmick Project Farside has that I haven't completely fleshed out yet, this arc will eventually accumulate into a major battle against a type of Creature called an Embodiment. An Embodiment of Wraith specifically. This Creature had been going around this sleepy village and subtly showing random people the thing guaranteed to make them angry, and then feeding off the wraith mana spawned from the resulting fights. This is a fairly weak Creature overall (as a stronger wraith embodiment is typically far less subtle), but it is the first time Danielle has had to actually fight a Creature. (That's not to say she hasn't encountered them before; she just always had to take the stealth route until then.)

Danielle eventually figures out who it is. And, knowing that it is eventually going to tear the town apart, ends up deciding to warn Ruby about it. Ruby, of course, decides to go teach them (haven't decided on a gender, if at all, for the Creature quite yet) a lesson. Danny actually was hoping she would go to deal with them, but there are a few problems with this she wasn't aware of.

The main issue here is that Ruby is a vengeful little motherfucker. She may have all the chill factor between her and Danny, but when she loses it, she really loses it. So what happens when she confronts a monster that can glimpse into her mind and gets a significant boost (and heal) from Ruby's own resulting anger and magic? Bad times all around.

Fortunately, Danielle realizes that deliberately trying to get that friendly swordswoman who saved her life to battle the monster she discovered for her could end pretty badly (especially since Danielle failed to specify a lot of details, just pointed her at them). Getting paranoid, she ends up running all over town trying to find her. When she does, she finds Ruby badly injured and on the cusp of defeat.

What proceeds can best be described as a puzzle boss for Danielle as she uses her wits to not only avoid being angered by the Creature, but to turn their strengths against them by effectively timing out all their spell cards (so it can't use the emotions released by Danielle trying to shoot them down). This part is effectively me trying to plan out a boss battle, so forgive the less detailed explanation. Writing clever characters (especially inconsistent and fickle ones like Danielle) is very hard.

After all that (and some cheesy antagonist motive reveal), Danielle ends up having to take Ruby back to where she is currently staying in order to patch up her injuries. It is here that she learns that Ruby is not only a fellow Nearsider, but that she's pretty much homeless and spends most of her days wandering Farside and using what money she learns to pay for essentials. Fearing the worst, Danielle makes the offer to let Ruby stay and work with her until her injuries get better.

Now, Ruby doesn't exactly like Danielle at this stage. Finds her good company, yes, but she still goes against a lot of Ruby's principles and objects to some of hers (mainly about murder). But since Ruby feels like she owes her a debt after she saved her life (as well as other factors like Danielle wanting to go to the same town next as her and just being slightly more stable financially than Ruby), she reluctantly agreed to assist Danielle at the shop. Just until her injuries are better and she can battle again.

Of course, that didn't end up happening. But that's another lengthy story! And so the odd friendship between some slightly unscrupulous college student turned magiscientist and a stoic upright swordswoman with a bloodthirsty side was born. There are a lot of other details (mostly tied to the undecided ideas mentioned) here, but this is the main idea I had in mind for their meeting!

[butdidmarlenacomebackhome]

✨hcs for the courtiers reacting to their s/o wearing their trademark outfits✨

i think i did a pretty decent job at keeping this gender-neutral, let me know if there is any mistake/room for improvement. i'd love to hear your feedback 👉🏻👈🏻

🍷consul valerius

• blushes hard

• "what a presumptious lack of decorum" said while still blushing, therfore only half-hearted

• desperately tries to hide how much he likes it but his eyes permanently glued on you kind of betray him

• the only thing he loves more than himself & his status is you, so imagine how utterly smug would he be about seeing you in his attire (not that he'd ever openly show it!!! it wouldn't be proper of him 👀👀👀)

• if you follow him around/he catches sight of you while going about his day, any hope to get things done is thrown out the window

• he's definitely not staring at you during the courtiers' meeting, his eyes just happened to focus on the general area where you're standing/sitting

• at the end of the day will literally leave you a note on your bed saying you can keep the clothes, you're welcome ("my wardrobe can afford to lose a spare, while yours could definitely use something fashionable for a change")

• spoiler it's just a roundabout way to say he wants to see you wearing his clothes again & more often 👀

• from that day on, will go out of his way to gift you jewelry, clothes, accessories matching to his own and fully expects you to always wear them

🍖procurator volta

• blushes like crazy & her eyes literally fill with stars & sparkles,, almost cries bc of what she perceives to be a clear display of affection

• "mc!!! you look!!! absolutely!!! gorgeous!!!" in modern!au would definitely tell you you look like a snackkk but to be fair she thinks you're gorgeous on any normal day

• follows you around the whole day & shily holds your hand, she loves the idea of the two of you making your way through the palace in matching outfits

• normally she'd be pretty quaint but with you by her side reassuring her of your love so openly,,, she's just over the moon my friends 🚀🚀🚀

• thinks her clothes suit you better than they'd ever do on her, but on a side note she also probably thinks anything would look good on you (the precious baby ಥ_ಥ)

• she's also pretty honored to have you dress like her, it's like a public love declaration & it makes her all fuzzy to know you're not embarrassed of her

• she'll literally convince you to stop for snacks every 15 minutes tho & no matter what you're doing or what business you're attending to, you just can't resist her puss in boots eyes & decide to join her every single time

• at the end of the day, she hugs you (I hc her loving pda but rarely initiating it bc she's too shy, so it's a bit of a shock to suddenly receive a hug from her in the middle of the castle hallway) & thanks you for the wonderful day. snuggle with her in bed. do it.

tw. for slight nsfw-ish in next one but it's literally just an allusion that's barely even there + like 1 swear word

🐞pontifex vulgora

• does a double take, like they probably were just storming the hallways going off on a tangent about how tHERE'S NOT BEEN A SINGLE FIGHT IN DECADES AND THEY'RE SO WILLING TO START ONE WITH THE FIRST ONE THEIR EYES LAND ON- and then their eyes land on you and they have to check again to see if they'd actually seen what they think they've seen

• and holy shit do you look hot

• the gauntlets on you? the armor attire? yes ma'am please and thank you

• 100% will tease you at first

• "WHAT IS THIS? HAVE YOU FINALLY FALLEN OFF THE COUNTESS' GRACES NOT TO BE ABLE TO AFFORD YOUR OWN CLOTHES ANYMORE, MAGICIAN?"

• when you scoff & tell them you'd go get changed, they phisically S T O P you

• "I DIDN'T SAY YOU COULD GO, MAGICIAN. ARE YOU BACKING OUT OF YOUR OWN DECISION? IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD YOU HAVE TO STICK TO IT, PET"

• proceeds to drag you wherever they go to show you off & always finds a way to keep their hands on you (they prolly also start carrying you on their shoulder at some point)

• will probably try to convince you to fight because you "have to look the part", your call if you want to humor the smol anger issues gremlin or not

• at the end of the day, they'd unabashedly ask you to keep the gauntlets on for later 👀

💉quaestor valdemar

• “oh what do we have here?”

• dr uwu is already more or less accustomed to seeing you in medical gear given the amount time you spend together in the dungeons (loveliest place for play dates mind you) but seeing you in their clothes is indeed something new

• a little confused at first but they got the spirit

• might tilt their head when they see you at first, then circle around you with that little cute smug smirk on their face to inspect you throughly and take you in from all angles [ I'm looking: respectfully 😌 ] just like a cat

• MOST IMPORTANTLY!! you know how they got those two cute bandaged silly cones on their head right??? there's no way you could get those to stand upright so you just kinda bandaged your head & gave up on trying to replicate the exact look but,, dr uwu notices & they're like ay no capt'n this ain't gonna fly here

• “now, now little magician we simply can't have that. a job half done is only half the fun after all” and they actually!!! make you sit down!!! reach out behind you!!! and start working on the bandages!!! braiding your hair!!! tucking them in!!! giving you their trademark cape!!!! yes i'm melting as i write this

• they too would appreciate having you around just to observe everyone's reactions to you both casually walking through the palace (shockingly) or in the dungeons while wearing matching clothes

• power couple tbh you'd have fun intimidating & unsettling every poor soul unlucky enough to encounter you on their path

• “are you having fun, my little magician? you seem to amuse yourself quite easily”

• at the end of the day if you ask nicely they may accept to lend them to you some other time you can tell they actually had quite a bit of fun too even if they don't say so out loud

🐛praetor vlastomil

• “s/o! what a lovely sight for sore eyes!”

• one word: e c s t a t i c

• def appreciates the gesture and gets quite vocal about it,, this worm baby will shower you with compliments and attention all day

• prepare yourself to be paraded around all day while vlastomil stops random servants just to say things along the lines of “look at my gorgeous s/o, aren't they just lovely?” cue love struck gaze towards you

• he ignores whatever response random servant #143 comes up with & quickly moves on

• you know what time is it??? time to visit your babies!!! the wormies would be so happy to see you!! I hope you're not squeamish he will prompt them to show you some love too

• probably urges you to keep your head high and be confident as you walk arm in arm to remind the peasants where they stand (beneath the soles of your shoes) together <3

• probably takes you for a carriage ride to show you off some more & stare flippantly at peasants

• will fix any slight imperfection every 2 seconds, like tilting your cape so that it doesn't hang too low nor too on the side & if he's close enough he'll give you a smooch or two too istg this man has no chill

• at the end of the day he whines sm because he doesn't want you to take off his clothes,, if you manage to convince him you actually have to get changed be prepared to be BOMBARDED with requests for you to do it again for the rest of your life

[the-final-sif]

So people had some excellent suggestions for my “Dabi and Hawks are quarantined together and also accidentally fake dating” AU, and I’ve taken all of them into consideration to create the following situation:

Toga 100% on purpose leaks to the public that Hawks has a boyfriend who he’s in quarantine with, leaving Hawks no choice but to publicly acknowledge it, while trying to pass the situation off as “oh, but my bf wants privacy so no pics or anything.”

Which might’ve worked normally but everyone is stuck indoors and stir crazy, so they’ve got tons of free time to hound Hawks about his personal life.

Hawks is worried someone’s gonna actually show up or somehow find them out if he doesn’t do something, but there’s obviously no way he could post photos with Dabi. He’s way too distinctive.

Dabi, who overheard all of this, and who has a ridiculous amount of make up skill and way too much time on his hands right now, gets up at like 2 am, takes out his staples (swapping them for ones that lay flush with his skin), and over the next 6 hours sets about covering up his scars on his hands, chest and face.

By the time he's done, he looks like a brand new person, and he even went the extra mile and temp redyed his hair to a lighter color, maybe light blue or light red and styles it nicely.

Hawks wakes up and almost has a heart attack because he doesn't recognize him until Dabi starts laughing at him.

"Well? I figure it'll be good enough to get people to move on to something else long enough for us to break up."

Hawks has to hide in the bathroom for a minute to collect himself, because listen, Dabi was hot before, 100%, but fuck now he just looks unfairly pretty. It doesn’t help that he also dressed up in tighter clothing than what he normally wears.

After Hawks has his third gay panic of the week, and after Dabi proves he can pitch his voice well enough to disguise it, Hawks decides fuck it, he's bored enough to go along with this.

They do a few couple photos and then announce that they'll be doing a livestream q&a later that day, but only one! After that, Hawks boyfriend will not be appearing on any of his social media because he seriously wants his privacy respected. They also won't answer any identifying questions like real name/location/quirk type/etc.

During the live stream, Dabi is incredibly flirty and sweet to Hawks whose Heart Cannot Take This, and the entire internet is losing it's mind collectively at cool and suave Hawks getting totally flustered and blushing redder than his wings at his boyfriend, and "get a guy who looks at you like Hawks looks at his boyfriend whenever he does anything" becomes a popular meme with accompanying screenshots.

Everything is going great.

Right up until Natsuo and/or Fuyumi see the photos, and even though they know it's impossible- Holy shit, that's exactly what an adult version of Touya would look like. The hair's off, but he confirmed in the live stream "I'm gay, of course my hair is dyed."

Even his voice sounds similar. It’s like hearing a message from beyond the grave.

So, about 3 hours after the livestream, Hawks gets a text from an unknown number apologizing for intruding on his personal life and introducing themselves as Fuyumi Todoroki.

She’s aware this sounds insane, but holy shit she and her younger brother think he might be dating their previously thought dead older brother, Touya.

Fuyumi then goes on to provide Dabi’s quirk, prior health issues (since Touya has had them since he was young), and his story, which 100% lines up with everything Hawks knows about Dabi.

Hawks, in that exact moment, puts together just who Dabi is.

While Dabi is in the other room getting the makeup off.

And now Hawks has a text from his sister asking to speak to his "boyfriend" because she’s 100% sure it has to be him.

Oh boy.

This is gonna be fun to deal with.

Dabi, after finding out his siblings accidentally exposed him and think Hawks’ fake boyfriend is their brother: "Okay, okay, this is fine. Your boyfriend will just catch the virus and tragically pass away before the quarantine is up."

Hawks: "You can't just keep faking your death every time you encounter an emotional situation you don’t want to handle!"

Dabi: "Wanna bet?"

[sorryjustafangirl]

mascot mysteries

a/n: me posting something that isn’t at like midnight? wow. anyway i thought this was a super cute idea so i hope you all enjoy it :)  this is also a gender neutral reader! and this is a covid-free AU

Pairing: Nolan Patrick x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

warnings: a few couple words, a little bit of anxious movements, Gritty (if that needs to be a warning)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the incredible gif-maker!

tagging: @barzypatty​

You walked into the Wells Fargo Center, admiring the arena. This was your dream job ever since college. Honestly you couldn’t believe you got it. You pull out your phone with the emailed instructions of where to go. You look for the “hallway next to the washroom” only to discover there are three different hallways that have signs directing to the washrooms. 

Well fuck. 

“Are you good there?” You look to your left to see two guys, likely players based on their attire. One was taller, with longer hair and a small smile. The other one was shorter but looked more rambunctious. It looked like there were in a little bit of a rush, but you were really lost. 

“I’m actually kind of lost. I’m looking for conference room B8? But the instructions I have are really vague, so I have, like, no idea where I’m going,” you admitted, folding into yourself a little bit.

“That’s on our way! Come with us, we’ll show you where it is,” the shorter one said, motioning you over to where the two of them had stopped. “So, you’ve never been here?”

“It’s actually my first day on the job, so, um no. I haven’t been here before either, I, uh, grew up in Canada,” You cursed yourself. This was your first impression with the organization and you couldn’t even make a conversation without the stammering.

“Cool! Me and Patty are from Canada too! Shit, sorry, I’m TK and that’s Patty,” He said, motioning to the taller guy beside him. “And don’t worry about getting lost, Pats here got lost on his first day too,”

“Good to know I’m not the only one whose bad with directions,” you directed your comment to Patty, making brief eye contact with him. A rosy blush brushed his cheeks and you caught a mumbled “yeah”

“What do you do….?” Patty prompted, his voice quiet, but somehow you still heard it. He couldn’t deny you were pretty. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m Y/N. And I’m in media? I don’t know my exact title, but working for one of the best marketed media teams was too good for me to, uh, turn down so…” You said, slightly talking in front of TK so you could answer Patty’s question.

“Oh cool! Maybe you’ll get to meet Gritty, he’s the fun residence troublemaker,” Travis popped in.

“I thought that was your job Teeks,” which earned a jab from TK into Patty, who just snickered. 

“Travis, bud!” The three of you stopped to see someone else motioning for TK, who jogged over to the other man. 

“C’mon, the conference room isn’t too much further, I’ll walk you there,” Patty said, already making some steps forward. After a small comfortable silence, he stopped in front of two double doors. “So, uh, this is it. Good luck on your first day,” 

“Oh! Thanks. And, um, thanks for showing me where it was,” You tugged down on your jacket. “I guess I’ll just….” you motioned behind you to the doors.

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll, uh, let you go,” You gave a small wave and turned towards the conference doors and he turned back to go where he came from, only to turn around after a few steps. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You took a few steps back towards him.

“You’re in media, yeah? So you might be at games or maybe even practices?” He scratched the back of his neck, slightly mumbling towards the end.

“Uh, yeah maybe. I’m not too sure where they’ll put me just yet but I like being in the action. I know that might seem weird ‘cause I’m sorta shy and quiet but..” You wrung your hands together. 

“No, no, I get it. It’s like being a different person, when you’re behind the camera or something. You get to be someone else and it’s nice. I get like that on the ice sometimes. I can make the big hits and stuff and no one treats it like it’s different from being quiet outside the game,”

“Yeah, like a different person. That’s exactly it,” You met his eyes again. Holy shit, why is he so gorgeous?

“Y/N Y/L/N?” A head popped out from behind the conference room doors. “We’re ready for you,” 

“Great, thank you,” You turned back to Patty. “That’s, uh, that’s me, but I’ll hopefully see you around, Patty?” 

“I’d like that a lot. And uh, you can call me Nolan,” The blush came back to his cheeks but you could barely notice over the heat in your own cheeks. 

“Bye Nolan.” You gave him one last smile before entering the conference room and closing the door, slowing entering the room. Once you came into sight, the people around the table jumped up. 

“Ah! There they are! Our new Gritty!”

***

After that first encounter, you seemed to bump into Nolan more. Before work, sometimes after work. You would make casual conversation, both mumbling, but you just got each other. And it didn’t take too long for him to muster up the courage to ask you on a date. While you were slightly hesitant, he was quick to assure you that “I may have asked G to ask management if it’d be okay with our jobs and, uh, everything’s fine, so…?” which earned him a kiss on the cheek and a yes. 

The problem was your job. You loved being a mascot. Seriously, you did. You were hooked after that first varsity game you went to in college. The energy of the crowd, interacting with the players and fans, the anonymity. The anonymity was the issue. Behind the costume, no one knew it was shy ol’ you. You could do anything and no one would tell you that you were being too rowdy or obnoxious. No one expected anything out of you except fun. It was perfect. And being Philadelphia’s beloved mascot/political figure was the dream. Telling Nolan risked the anonymity of the job. But to not tell Nolan was becoming an issue. He understood you had to work during game days, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to see you with the other better halves in the stands, especially since you worked here. There was no reason for you not to be there. Every other teammate of his got to see someone they loved in their jersey but he didn’t. 

When he brings this up, all timid, you are so quick to make a compromise. Before every home game, you’d meet in the tunnel for a good luck handshake. It might seem ridiculous but he got to physically see you before each game and it was a fun, quirky ritual. 

“It’s like a different person right? You get in your zone and I’ll get in mine,” You told him. He responded with a kiss. 

But you were running out of excuses why you were late either before your handshake or after his game, where you would also meet him in the tunnel. You had used the “I caught up with work” at least four times, “I saw a coworker who wanted to talk” a few times, and even resorted to “I got lost” once. You could see it was throwing him off a little. He was still playing perfectly fine, but it didn’t have that same “umph” he sometimes brought to the ice. 

It was the home game against the Penguins when he finally snapped. That’s how you knew it was bad. Gritty was asked to do the fun pre-show, and you hadn’t had time to change to see Nolan before the game. He threw more hits, had more aggression, and more than the normal Pennsylvania rivalry. You couldn’t help but think that part of it was because you didn’t show up before the game. He’d even gotten in a fight with Tanev early in the second period. 

So, during the intermission between the second and third, you asked your team to lead you down to the tunnel and grab Nolan out of the dressing room. The Flyers were up 3-0 so you didn’t think it’s be a huge issue with Coach. 

He quietly exited the room, confused on why he got pulled out. A member of your team just gestured to you in your costume, which did little to clear up his confusion. You held your hand up in a fist for a fist bump, the first move in your handshake. When he still gave that bewildered look, you softly grabbed his gloved hand and pushed it against yours. When you lifted your hand up for a high five, he still needed some prompting. But when the down low high five came, you started to see the gears in his head turning. He gave a small chuckle and slowly worked through your handshake, ending with a pinky promise and a kiss to your respective thumbs. When you’ve finished, he just gives you that small side smile and shakes his head, with a chuckle. 

You can hear the boys getting hyped up in the dressing room, and then the buzzer goes, so you break away from Nolan, but stay in the tunnel. As the boys single-file pass you, you give them each a boop on the head, with some extra love given to Nolan. 

That third period, Nolan seems to have his “umph” back. An assist and a goal, and he celebrated both by glancing up to you, celebrating as per usual with the fans, especially after his goal. 

After the game, you go and have your own shower, all sweaty after the 5-0 Pennsylvania battle. You took your time, knowing you’d have to have a semi-serious conversation with Nolan. But when you join him in the tunnel, he’s all smiles. He wraps you in a hug, spinning you around, before setting you on the ground and nuzzling into your neck. You run your fingers through his own freshly washed hair. The two of you stand there for a bit before he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. 

“Like another person, eh?” You smiled and tucked your head into his chest. 

“Oh shut up, I don’t even know if you’re allowed to know.” A hearty laugh escaped him.

“Secret’s safe with me, babe,” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head as you started to make your way out of the arena. “Fuckin’ Gritty, I can’t believe it. I thought you were ignoring me,”

“I’m sorry, Nols. It’s just a lot to take in. Didn’t want to scare you off,”

“Well, I’m sticking around if that’s alright with you.” You looked up at him, and his cheeks started to redden, and not just from the game.

“Yeah. That’s alright with me,” You leaned into the crook of his shoulder, glad you didn’t have to hide any part of yourself from Nolan anymore. 

Bonus: “Did you ever actually punch a kid?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not answering that,”

“It’s a valid question babe! I’m not going to stop you, I just wanna know,”

feel free to let me know what you think! thanks for reading

[dclsbaby]

mykonos-crossed lovers (part i) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part i

prologue

part ii

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst?

Author’s Note: hi everyone, thank you so so much for the responses to the prologue! I am so overwhelmed and did not expect to receive so much kindness it makes me wanna cry hahaha 🥺 thank you a thousand times over! and if this is your first time getting to know the fic, I highly suggest you read the prologue before diving into part 1! This chapter is sort of a filler chapter (I know it has 2.6k words lol), it shows how (y/n) have been doing since the break up & how the trip came about, I hope it’ll make sense once you read it 🤍 thanks for reading x

Gif:

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It’s been months since you last spoke to him. Him. The thought of him still hurts. The idea of him existing without you, hurts. As much as you try to fight it, you still remember him like the back of your hand. You could draw on paper the contours of his face by memory, by instinct, like remembering your way home. He was a love you have never experienced before. Something about his magnetism seemed impossible to resist.

You and Dominic broke up nearly half a year ago. Your hopes of an amicable breakup were destroyed by him. His confusion, his anger, his frustration made it impossible for you two to stay friends. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being just a friend to you when his entire heart belongs to you. He called you selfish for leaving, he called you stubborn for having your mind made up without letting him put up a fight when he was ready to battle anyone, even you, to save your relationship.

The first few months were difficult, but the first few weeks were excruciating. You barely ate, as the numbing in the pit of your stomach constantly made you nauseous that your body couldn’t digest anything you ate. You couldn’t bring yourself to shower and get dressed, and spent days laying in bed, wallowing in sadness. Overtime, you just learn to live with the pain.

Since then, you’ve had good days, and slowly but surely stopped faking smiles and replaced them with genuine ones. But your bad days felt like hell, with your mind often teasing you with memories of him that you’ve suppressed enough to compartmentalise, then it comes back to you all at once, and consumes your entire soul. The pain is suffocating, like being crush by tidal waves, leaving you no time to run for shore, the waters dragging you, pulling you in many directions. All you could do was be still, stay paralysed, and pray that it goes away. That’s what remembering him felt like.

Then on other days, you often wonder how you were able to manage all this, with the pain still fresh whenever you think about it, but I guess we’re all guilty of pushing our feelings to the side and pretending that everything’s alright, when it’s the opposite. You’re still alive, despite it all. But you want to live, not just survive.

The truth is, you did not leave because you fell out of love. In fact, you were too in love—it’s a crime. He was your entire life. Days were spent waiting for him to come home from training and matches. Missing him during away games. Your entire happiness depended on him, and that terrified you. You weren’t happy with yourself either, and expected more out of your life. The burden of having a prosperous career, a stable income, a life for yourself that you loved, becoming too heavy to bear. You had all these dreams and goals set for yourself that you never got to actualise so you could be by his side. Your love for him was insurmountable, that you couldn’t accommodate anything for yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you will always put him first. It was natural. Even though he never asked for all your attention, you couldn't simply choose between yourself or him, because you would always choose him. Over and over.

So you did what you had to do, break your own heart, and his, to love yourself.

Since your breakup, you finally moved out of your friend’s place and got yourself a nice two-bedroom flat at the city centre with a stunning view of the city. You landed yourself a job as a junior editor for British Vogue that demands commuting to London several days a week. As you thrive in difficult situations, the breakup forced you to submerge yourself in work, mainly to avoid the pain, but it propelled you to get to where you are.

Trying to get over someone who is in the public eye was a different battle. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he’s there. You see him on billboards, TV screens, his face painted on murals, quickly becoming a tourist site. Occasionally, you would watch his games out of habit, and listen to the prideful Evertonian crowd chant his name. You witnessed his first England senior team debut, and tuned in to England v. Wales on the TV for old time’s sake. You watched him score his first senior England goal behind a screen. Your eyes welled at sight of him living his dream, poaching the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game, making his country and family proud. You feel the rush of adrenaline he felt as he ran to his teammates and celebrated. You can’t help but share this sense of pride, as you’ve watched firsthand how hard he has worked to get to where he is.

But on days where he isn’t on your mind, you do not want to be reminded of him. It’s difficult to cope when you encounter pieces of him that takes you back to the worst day of your life, and his.

Like last night, for instance. You had been scrolling on your social media when it was brought to your attention that a magazine had published an issue with your ex on the front cover, spotted on a night out with a blonde you don’t personally know but you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before. Perhaps another one of those so-called “influencers”, you thought to yourself. You know that you have no right to feel jealous or upset, as you broke up with him and this was bound to happen, but selfishly, a part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone else, or at least not before you did. You’re frustrated at yourself for letting him have this effect on you even months after your break up.

Succumbing to your bad habits, you give in to your impulses and pop open a bottle of red wine to calm your growing anxiety. Two glasses of wine, a takeout, and a season of Gossip Girl later, you find yourself slightly drunk, nerves calmed, and a little drowsy so you quickly change into your satin pyjamas and tuck yourself in bed.

You decide to turn on the TV for some background noise and quickly close your eyes. By some twist of fate, you hear a painfully familiar voice giving his thoughts at the end of a game he’s won. The sheer volume of his voice on the TV causes a sharp pain in your chest as you scramble to reach for your remote in the dark, with your eyes half opened. and change it to anything but a sports channel. That’s it, you thought to yourself. I need to get the fuck away.

Still drunk and not entirely aware of what you’re doing, you reach for your laptop on the nightstand. The brightness made your eyes squint a little bit, but you managed to type out a link and open a travel booking site, and scroll through different pictures of tropical islands you’re longing to get to. Anywhere but here, you thought. You selected options that you thought looked the blue-est, the most expensive, a party town, and had the most five star restaurants.

By the end of it you have booked a return flight to Mykonos for 5 people where you will be staying at a grand, luxurious 5-bedroom villa located at the party central of the island. You couldn’t be bothered to check how much it cost you. All sense of ration gets thrown out the window when you mix heartbreak with alcohol. When you told your friends of what you had just done, it was safe to say that they were surprised but absolutely ecstatic that you have booked a much needed getaway with the girls. With a three-day notice, you all quickly scramble through your closet and go on an online shopping spree to pick out your outfits for the holiday.

***

Days later, you find yourself landing on Mykonos island on a sunny afternoon.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to pull all this off within days,” your friend says as you all walk through the pebbled entry way of your villa, and open the door. “Holy fucking shit,” another friend says in awe of the sight. The villa was filled with white interior, bright lights, wooden tables that give off beach vibes, and an infinity pool where you could swim as you watch the sunset, with a view of the blue sea. With 5 bedrooms to choose from, your friends collectively decided that you should take the master that had direct access to the pool, which you happily accepted but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as you’ll all probably stay in one room.

Once you’ve unpacked, you pull out your white cardigan and make your way out the terrace to catch a view of the sunset and have a moment by yourself. You take a deep breath of the fresh air with a hint of sea breeze as you try to take in the stunning view of the island. You are filled with gratitude as you bear witness to something so beautiful as you watch the sun sink into the blue Aegean Sea. Despite the peacefulness exuded by the view, your heart can’t help but feel Dom. You remember when he had brought up wanting to spend this exact summer in Mykonos with you, but life had other plans.

***flashback***

Dom was laying in bed with his laptop screen on his chest, an arm to support his head as he scrolled through the travel booking site. He had been looking through different options, but he has his mind set on a lovely town in Greece, Dubai’s overrated after all, he thought.

“Me, you, blue skies, tanned skin, bike rides around town, what do you think love?” asked Dom. “Where’s this?” you ask, moving closer to him as he shows you his laptop screen. “Mykonos. It’s not too far away, I’ll have enough time to rest before pre-season starts,” he replies. “That sounds like a plan,” you smile at him. “But we’ll book it closer to the summer, yeah? In case anything comes up,” you said as you plant a kiss on his cheek. He nods as he bookmarks the site and drifts off to sleep with you shortly after.

Unbeknownst to you, later that night he quietly opened his laptop and quickly booked the trip for you two as a surprise. Anything that will come in the way will just have to be compromised. He was adamant to make sure he gives you the best summer of your life, it is what you deserve after all, he thought.

***

You had forgotten about your conversation with Dom until you stood on the island. Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend’s footsteps. “Hey, you okay babe? You’ve been out here for a while,” she asks with concerned eyes. “I’m alright,” you said. “Or I will be,” you add, giving your friend a forced smile. Your friend wraps her arm around your shoulders as you two make it back inside to have an early and quiet night with the girls, exhausted from all the travel.

***

The next day you woke up a little late, with only several hours to tan before having to get ready for your dinner reservation at one of Mykonos’s famous restaurants that looks over the sea. A little frustrated at yourself for sleeping in, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, put on some light makeup, and change into your swimwear.

You join your friends who are sprawled on the sunbeds. “So, where is this place again?” you asked your friend who booked the dinner. “A restaurant by the sea located at party central babe. Everybody, I mean everybody goes here. They’ve got the best food and music,” she replies. “Think of Mamma Mia 1,” another friend chimes in. Your eyes widen at the imagery. “Better have some great alcohol too, I’m desperate for some,” you laugh. “That’s my girl,” your friend says.

***

By the late afternoon you and the girls are getting ready for dinner. Makeup bags and its contents sprawled on the floor, you had to tiptoe around makeup products and brushes, careful not to step on them. After long deliberation, you decided to dress up in co-ord that hugs your figure and fits you like a glove, paired with your favourite heels, settling for an elegant yet fun look. You decide to keep your hair down and put on some natural makeup to balance out the bold colour. After about 30 minutes of taking pictures of each other and some group photos, you finally made it out the door.

The location was spectacular. The ambience was complemented with bright lights to lighten the dim Mykonos sky that has turned a shade of dark blue, almost purple. The food was divine, a little overpriced for your liking, but it was worth it. The restaurant turns into a nightclub close to midnight, and you and your girls were eager to start your first round of drinks. Fruity drinks were passed around, made with fruits freshly picked from the gardens. Watermelon margarita was your drink of choice, partly sweet, partly sour, and just enough tequila as your first drink of the trip.

The restaurant was packed, you could’ve sworn you had seen a star of a Spanish series you’ve just finished watching on Netflix. The guests were well dressed, many had bravely eccentric taste, mixing patterns and sparkly jewellery, paired with funky footwear to add some flair. In Mykonos, you will not encounter the same judgment as you would walking down the streets back home.

Your friends stood up to dance the second the alcohol kicked in. You took your time, savouring your drink, wanting the night to last. You smile at the sight of your happy friends, so full of life, not giving a single care in the world. As you’re sitting there, observing people, you suddenly feel your chest get heavy. It’s hard to put into words what this feeling is like, but it pushes you to shut down in social settings, overwhelmed by strangers and loud music that makes your ears ring. It is a feeling of unexplained anxiety, where you need a second to correct your breathing, and calm yourself down. Not now, you thought, not here. You often feel these random bouts of emptiness since you left Dom. You try to push the discomfort away, and think of anything else but him. You stood up and walked to the edge of the restaurant by the white border wall to get some fresh air, and take in the view of calm waves under the night sky to collect some peace of mind.

You place your elbows on top of the border, and rest your head on the palms of your hands. A bystander would think that you’re a scene from a movie, a damsel in distress, longing for her love interest. But this was no movie, no fairytale, no knight in shining armour to protect you, no lover to sweep you off your feet.

Or so you thought.

Your focus on the sounds of splashing waves was interrupted by familiar footsteps, getting louder and louder as it creeps its way closer to you. The scent of the sea began to mix with an all too familiar scent of tobacco vanilla. Only one person came to mind. It can’t be, you thought.

“(Y/N)?,” his voice breaks.

It’s him.

[flowerflamestars]

Okay okay I just read your jaw dropping post about how acotar would be with Nesta Under the Mountain and now I’m curious: does Rhys meets Feyre? Cassian and Nesta’s first encounter, how does it goes like? LUCIEN AND AZRIEL SLOW BURN “STRANGERS” TO LOVERS? Nesta wouldn’t be stupid to let her sisters be kidnapped by Hybern, so how do they get changed into Fae? And DO they get changed? I’ve got a thousands questions now

OKAY YES- Nesta Under the Mountain, acomaf remix:

First, I just want to pause to highlight the chaos factor here. What happens after Amarantha and Tamlin die? Rhysand, bound by magical contract and also Dramatique, nopes out, bringing Lucien and Nesta.

And he’s a mess. It’s relief, it’s half a century of unimaginable torture. He needs a bath. He needs to lay in bed for a week before he speaks to another living person. Instead, he takes them to his moonstone palace.

Does he rest? Plan? Go find his friends who are screaming at his mental shields?

No. He gives Nesta and Lucien rooms, and proceeds to have breakfast with them while flirting with Nesta, so he can pretend everything is fine.

To say Nesta is feeling A Lot is an understatement. She has zero Tamlin murder regrets- and many, many, I came back to life and got kidnapped again regrets. She does take a bath. Washes off the blood, braids her hair, tries not to look at her freaky faery face, looks for clothes. Is unimpressed beyond measure at crop top sheer ensembles, and goes looking for Lucien.

Swathed in turquoise silks, doing that thing where he’s grinning but his eyes are flinty and just waiting for the next attack, he’s no better off. The robe in Nesta’s bathroom was a lace confection- the one in Lucien’s in quilted green silk. Nesta wears that.

Is still wearing it, when they show up to breakfast, Rhysand flirts- and because Nesta is an Archeron, she throws a teacup at his head.

(Lucien, beside her, buttering toast: yeah, that doesn’t work on her)

What really happens in acomaf? Love, trauma journey, betrayal. But Tamlin’s dead- and guess what family promptly sails back across the sea to seize power of Spring? Guess. No one is out here calling Nesta the Savior of Prythian. She’s not the mother, she’s the crone. Women love her, men fear her. She’s not the blessing, she’s the punishment.

Morrigan tracks down Rhys, and this is what she finds: 1 autumn prince, wearing a crop top and acidly explaining that he doesn’t give a single fuck if Spring burns. 1 devastating faery lady wearing nothing but a robe. Rhysand, with tea dripping from his hair.

Tears! Reunion! Nes & Luc, exit stage left faced with Emotions.

Nesta doesn’t need to learn to read- and she doesn’t need Rhysand’s fucking help, as she keeps saying, as he keeps doing nice things for her. Fuck off, she says, fixing her hair with the diamond pins that have mysteriously appeared on top of her book. Do not look at me like that, she threatens, catching him grinning at some insanely offensive thing she’s said about Beron.

Rhys likes Nesta. It’s not willing. Nesta...kind of hates Rhys still. Rhys is also still, A Mess- and Nesta just happens to be the sexy project in front of him. 

You didn’t make a deal for me to be a permanent house guest, she tells him.

Morrigan, to herself, a respectable wlw who, you know, met Nesta in a robe and learned ten seconds later she killed a High Lord as a human: PLEASE STAY FOREVER

Rhysand takes them to Velaris.

Lucien is devastated by the prosperity- Nesta goes straight for Rhysand’s throat- you protected one city? Rhysand says, one city, and four people. It’s the closest Nesta ever comes to respecting him, lasts three seconds. 

It takes one night for Nesta and Lucien to vanish. Dangerous and disconcerting for a few reasons- Prythian is singing songs of Nesta, and they’re songs of destruction. Lucien has a price on his head. 

But they’re not courting danger- they’re over the wall. Nesta knows a war is coming, knows she’s painted a target sky high on her back. She leaves letters for her sisters- she’s alive, she can’t come home, she’s sorry, she loves them, please please please be careful- and they spend ten hours straight setting wards around the slumbering Archeron manner.

With his usual sense of good timing, the next morning is when Rhysand trots out his work for me plan.

Hybern wants a war, and Nesta is a weapon. Lucien, who has been a rapid fire, info dump strength been trying to tell Nesta all the shit she needs to know now that she’s a faery, tells him to go to hell. 

Rhys feigns very much like that was uncalled for, unravels a few more layers of the I’m only bad as a ruse lifestyle before their eyes. 

Nesta more or less ignores him, but explains Lucien’s comment for them both: no fealty. No oaths. No games. No more fucking tattoos.

Rhys, eventually, repeats himself: work for me, I’ll pay you, you don’t need to belong.

Nesta demands a contract. Exact terms. Proof of salary. Tells Rhys, casually, that she killed one High Lord human and she’s perfectly willing to try for a second with immortality on her side.

Nesta and Lucien, private contractors. Nesta and Lucien, who also don’t really believe a word Rhysand says.

But then it’s time for dinner. To meet the Court- Nesta repeats Court of Dreams to Lucien with such lofty disbelief he’s still giggling to himself every few minutes when they get to the House of Wind.

A pause, a step back: Cassian. Cas lost his shit when Nesta died- Cassian felt her come back to life- Cassian, who has never met her, has no idea what that means. He’s been rattled around, feeling more than a little crazy- tense, unfocused, walking the streets of Velaris like he forgot something that can never be found- he also didn’t tell anyone.

Nesta Archeron walks into the House of Wind beside Lucien Vanserra, and everything stops.

It’s Rhysand’s stumbling, lightening struck, immediate oh-shit reaction, just on a very different balcony, with circumstance more different that Cassian allows himself to believe.

There she was. There was what he’d been looking for- there she was, taking a glass of wine out of Lucien’s hand.

There’s no personal story time at this dinner. There’s Cassian, dumbstruck, silent, staring. Azriel, whose good manners kick in and make him speak. Lucien, drinking. Nesta treating it like a business meeting and directly trying to establish what everyone’s jobs are.

(Also Nesta, meeting Amren, recognizing her name from fairytales she read trapped in Tamlin’s house: Do you really drink the blood of men?

Amren: Only very, very bad men who ask nicely.

Nesta’s nod in response took years off Cassian’s life.)

Nesta, child of every court. Nesta, who Rhysand keeps comparing to the Courts universal holy objects while she bites her tongue bloody. Locate, read, utilize, steal- Nesta wants it done now, wants to hamstring Hybern before he can set foot on their island.

But research takes time. So Nesta’s learning to be a faery- and breaking a ridiculous amount of things along the way- Lucien is hanging out in her shadow, free as he’s ever been in his entire adult like but also just waiting, waiting, for the axe to fall.

Everyone thinks they’re sleeping together- more importantly, even if they’re not, they’re In Love.

There’s no weaver in the wood moment- because frankly, Rhysand doesn’t want to risk that Nesta will somehow befriend her. Less Rhys in general, because Nesta doesn’t want to spend all that much time with him. 

Nesta is just in Velaris, waiting for the damn job to start. With Lucien. Sometimes Amren, or Morrigan. Often, extremely often, Cassian.

In canon, when they meet, Cassian is all set up to hate her- she didn’t protect her sister, she’s disloyal she’s- all of these terrible things that have to be proven untrue. That clash, that fighting shapes...basically everything.

This Nesta, he has every reason to admire, and it’s killing him. She saved Prythian- she killed a High Lord with her bare hands and knife Cassian wouldn’t want to use to cut an apple. She’s incredible.

She’s also the unfortunate, perfect receptacle for all of Cassian’s self worth issues. He can’t look away, which means she’s not looking. Of course she loves the son of a High Lord, who fought by her side- they survived together, they’re the same species.

So. He’s just going to quietly, miserably, love her forever. But he doesn’t actually talk to her- this is the only Cassian who has ever been quieter than Az- he just can’t. But he’s always there- passing messages from Rhys. Flying her to the House of Wind. Present. 

So he also ends up around when Lucien and Nesta decide to move on from magic training to physical training. 

And Cassian absolutely falls over himself asking to help. To train her. To make her stronger. To maybe, you know, punch him in the face.

The offering goes as badly as can be imagined, all the wrong words and blushing fury. Insulting. A mess.

Nesta does what Nesta does best. Asks him, you’ve trained how much of your own army? Cassians answer is halting but true- yes, yes the Legion’s are his lifes work.

And look, Nesta is mad at the implied insults to her and Lucien both. She’s also mad this asshole who clearly doesn’t want her here, doing the job she was hired to do and has made that clear with the silent treatment, is now intruding on her personal business.

She gets in his face. I’m not an Illyrian. I’m not a man. I will never be a soldier under your command and I don’t need your help.

(the vicious cultural sexism has, in fact, trickled down to Nesta’s knowledge quite easily. She doesn’t know Cassian’s back story.)

The knife sinks oh, so, fucking deep. Cassian who also, has never learned to back down, doesn’t fuck off. So he’s around, brooding and training himself, while Lucien teaches Nesta evil little tricks and how to move like lightening, to use weapons and magic as one.

Nessian keep fighting. Cassian also keeps finding every even slightly plausible excuse to be in her company-because now she’s looking at him.

So what, if she’ll never love him back? So what, if fucking Lucien Vanserra who flirts with everything that moves somehow earned her loyalty? Cassian is never-will never- judge or undermine her choices. Never.

He just wants to be around. To speak to her every day. So what, if the angst is burning him alive?

Interlude: the Summer Court. Rhys and Nesta go alone. 

Nesta likes Tarquin. Tarquin...is kind of more afraid of Nesta than Rhys. There’s no flirty montage, Nesta goes to hang out with Cresseida. Knows her for about a day, comes to understanding that Cresseida was the one who held Summer together under Amarantha.

Nesta tells Cresseida everything. Hybern’s coming back, they’re already making plays. They want the Cauldron, but control can be stolen with the Book. Rhysand thinks I can read it- all I want is Hybern dead.

It is, in the end, compelling. Helped along by the fact Nesta peppers in that Rhys isn’t going to ask.

There’s a fight, a battle, conditions: in the end Tarquin gives the book to Nesta. Only Nesta. For Rhys, this still works- for the Summer Court, the distinction is important. Nesta Archeron, Cauldron-blessed, the Sword of Prythian, will wield the book.

Not the blessing, the punishment.

Rhys says something very Rhys, and Nesta leaves. They’re winnowing to the same place, she can now, it doesn’t matter- but what matters is this: Nesta goes back to the House of Wind, and runs into Cassian.

She’s just carrying half the book- like that isn’t an insane, miraculous thing, and Cassian congratulates her, without saying anything stupid. 

But then Nesta sprawls down in a window seat, and starts looking at the book.

(Cassian is GOING THROUGH IT. he thought being around her was bad? Knowing she’s in another court where he can’t make sure she’s safe or okay or not having a bad day made him LOSE HIS MIND)

Which is fully what he blames for the fact that Cassian also, does not leave. Crosses his arms. Leans in the doorway like it doesn’t matter. Asks, like a moron, why Nesta isn’t looking for Lucien.

(Cassian to Cassian: SHE WAS GONE DAYS- SHE COULD HAVE BEEN HURT? WHERE IS THE CARE? THE CONCERN? THE- LUCIEN WAS AT A BAR WITH AZRIEL LAST NIGHT)

Nesta: No, I’ll see him later.

Cassian: Reunions...are important. The war is going to come faster than any of us think.

Nesta: I know?? that’s why I just spent a week in fucking sand- I’m doing my job-

Cassian: We all have so little time-

Nesta: You think I don’t know that??

Cassian: I just. I don’t understand- you have options. You have the entire world. You are the entire world, and you deserve-

Nesta: What. Exactly. Do you think I deserve?

Cassian, miserably ferocious: someone waiting when you come home. from battle. from stupid shit Rhys makes you do. You deserve everything.

Nesta, rising from the window seat, walking across the room: You’re here.

Cassian:

Nesta, rolling her eyes as she sweeps past and away: You. Were here. When I got back.

I’m going to cut this here and then post a part two! Thank you so much for asking, stay tuned :)

[crystalkleure]

Haha hey remember that post I made awhile back, speculating on what a bad idea it might be to fuse dead things in the godless Frankenstein fossil machine

Meet White. He is a reanimated corpse. Two of them, actually. Or more like 1.5. [And I whipped up this half-assed partial reference sheet in one night instead of sleeping, so don’t look too hard at the chickenscratch lineart and visible guidelines, and kindly ignore the total lack of shading as well as any other messy jankiness.]

White is a product of me wondering not only about what happens if you NecroFuse a human with a Pokemon, but also what happens if you make it even worse and specifically fuse that human with a Pokemon capable of mega evolution. Because canon seems to imply that mega evolving is at best deeply uncomfortable -- and at worst outright agonizing -- for whatever creature is going through it.

Character Lore under the cut. Lots of text:

White is one of actually multiple undead guys who got mashed together with bits of dead Pokemon. They’re science experiments, so they've got the dex numbers of the Pokemon they're spliced with tattooed on the backs of their necks, and those numbers were treated as their names In The Evil Science Lab.

In his Original Life, White [and some of his buddies] got gored to death by some escaped Horrible Fucking Monsters that were accidentally [...and then not-so-accidentally] created via Two Pokemon At Once In A Fossil Resurrection Machine, because hey, it is SUPER easy to think you got Just One Thing's Bones from an excavation dig but then later you realize that Some Of Those Bones were from something TOTALLY different that just died in the same place. It happens. So, some Fossil Scientist People accidentally resurrected an Abomination, realized they fucked up pretty fast...and then started wondering if they REALLY fucked up or if this is Cool, Actually. And then the team of Science People split into two Morality Factions, with one half being like “This is unethical as shit, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again because it's not natural so who knows how this poor fucked up creature is suffering” and the other, cooler half being like “WE NEED TO DO THIS AGAIN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE SCIENCE. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES HOLY SHIT.”

Cooler group splits off from the Horrified Group With Morals, and they promptly use their Science Knowledge to Construct More Machines and Make More Monsters. Doesn't take too long for them to realize, however, that Abomination Pokemon are stupidly hard to control, because not only are they suffering, their masters obviously don't care for their wellbeing, so Revolt Inevitably Occurs and they escape to wreak havoc upon the nearest congregation of townspeople. They promptly maul some people to death at a nearby local rock concert, scientists chase after them to clean up the mess, realize “Oh Shit, Manslaughter Charges Impending”, and then realize...

Science Guy 1: “...Hey, what happens if you put a dead person in the fossil machine?”

Science Guy 2: “Hey, people probably listen better than Pokemon. We can, like, TALK to people.”

Science Guy 3: “Lads, I got a stellar idea just now. And we got plenty of Dead Guys to start with right here! Great way to hide the bodies too, probably.”

This goes approximately as well as you would expect, and precisely as ethically. A smashing success!

However, because they Fucking Died, the reanimated Newly-Monsterized dudes do not remember shit about who they were pre-resurrection. They're not technically even the same people, they’re more like clones. They've been remade. So, all they know now is Science Lab Life, and they have no initial attachment to eachother aside from "that other guy is also a Science Experiment Person just like me, so Same Hat @ Labrat Neighbour ig", in spite of several having been friends or even family prior to death. They also just...don’t know/remember things in general. They are fresh blank slates. And to a morally-bankrupt team of scientists, that’s perfect! They can train these guys to behave however they please!

...However, people might be People Instead Of Animals, meaning they can be Reasoned With And Manipulated And Coerced far better than animals due to their far better communication abilities with the Science People, but...there is Still A Problem in the sense that Holy Shit, A Person Can Only Take So Much. You can only treat someone as "Experiment [number]" for so long, blatantly putting no value on their life outside of The Value Of Scientific Research, in spite of literally basically needing to raise them like a normal child due to the Lack Of Memories issue. Eventually they're not gonna be able to take that anymore and they are gonna Fucking Leave, too. And they’re gonna be much harder to track down than the rampaging Pokemon were. Impossible, actually, once they’ve ripped out their tracking chips.

So then there's just these monster dudes, who don't actually know what they are because they weren't ever told anything more than necessary to get them to cooperate with Tests And Experiments, just Escaped Into Civilization and having NO idea how Anything works. Fun! Especially considering how, at first glance, these just look like Normal Dudes. Their monster bits either aren't apparent or just look like funky body modifications.

They've also got Science Things in them and they Don't Know What The Fuck Those Things Even Are. They've just got these little Devices in/on their chests, and they were never informed of the exact functions of them because there's no reason to explain to the experiment What Is Happening, just that the experiment needs to Hold Still and Cooperate and Now Do This, Now Do This, Now Do That, Good Job That's Enough For Today, etc.

Those devices contain both key stones and mega stones.

If you were a Mad Pokemon Scientist, you would most certainly be interested in the mega evolution phenomenon. What would YOU do if some of your Undead Fusion Experiments happened to be spliced with bits of Pokemon known to be capable of mega evolving? You’d kill two birds with one enigmatic set of stones, that’s what you’d do. Your Frankenstein Experiments can even TALK to you and tell you exactly what they are experiencing when you run tests on them! It’s perfect!

So, if a rock-bearing monster’s heart rate goes too high, part of the little device, which is a barrier between one type of rock and the other, opens up and Exposes One Rock To The Other Rock. Which exposes the monster to the Rock Energy Reaction. The greater the stress, the higher the dose. And I’m sure you can see the snowball effect that’s gonna create, at least the first time or two.

They were INTENDED to eventually be made to Physically Fight With Eachother to gauge the effects of The Rocks™️ when the Guys With The Rocks are under Stress and need to Do Some Self-Defense. The Science Squad was basically trying to suss out the Actual Purpose of mega evolution. Because mega evolution is weird -- it puts ENORMOUS stress on the body of whatever is undergoing it, so the hypothesis was that its true power is probably drawn out best via a perceived life-threatening situation, like it’s a type of hysterical strength, because what else would cause a need for that kind of ability. And aren’t ethics a bit overrated?

So, there’s our premise. White is just wandering around without any particular purpose outside of never ever going back to Science Hell, and he has no clue what the funny little doohickey buried in his chest does until it activates one day and absolutely fucks him up [...as well as everyone around him. Mega Absol radiate an Aura Of Sheer Terror that can literally scare people with weak hearts to death if they’re not careful.]

And now, some Miscellaneous Character Info:

The bit about Lots Of Death happening at a rock concert specifically was important. White was actually the vocalist of the band that was playing. He doesn’t remember that now, but he still loves music and has the same strong vocal cords. And THAT is important because White is partially an Absol now and Absol naturally learns Perish Song. These Fusion Monsters are absolutely capable of using Pokemon moves, though whether they’re aware of this is a different matter entirely. Imagine what happens when they end up tapping into those abilities accidentally.

That band was a relatively-unknown little local band. White was by no means anywhere near famous. Very few people even realized he was gone, and most of the ones who would have noticed also ended up Equally Unalive.

That black stuff between the belts on White’s arms is mesh. Like, stocking mesh. It gets Ripped The Fuck Apart when he goes Mega Mode and his arm fur gets Extra Spiky. Hence one stocking being a bit tattered in that reference pic. He frequently has to replace those things, they are fragile.

“How did White get his name if he doesn’t remember his original name and didn’t have a real name in the lab” I am glad you asked! Post-escape, he eventually encountered a situation where someone asked him what his name was, he bluntly told them “I don’t have one. I am #359.”, they said “Well That Is Not A Name, I need something proper to call you”, and he was just...Super Apathetic. So, the other person picked out the name “White” just based on the fact that White’s hair is white, and he just shrugged and rolled with it.

As you can see in my Incredibly Quick And Rough Sketches, the backs of White’s shirts are open to accommodate that huge amount of fur that bristles out into false wings when he goes Mega Mode. Because his Actual Normal Hair is relatively long and overlaps with that fur, it blends in with his Actual Normal Hair and doesn’t look too odd [when it’s down]. Probably mostly because nobody’s expecting it to be anything OTHER than Perfectly Normal Hair That Just Happens To Be Very Long.

White does not particularly like violence. White does not want to beat you up. He will, though, without a bit of hesitation, if there’s some logical reason he feels like it’s the most practical course of action. Being essentially raised by Cold, Emotionally-Sterile Scientists With No Care For The Wellbeing Other Living Beings uh, tends to affect a guy a little bit. White has a bit of an internal dilemma regarding “It would be efficient for me to just Harm This Other Person to defuse the current situation, because attempting nonviolence will be overall more risky somehow” vs. “Holy shit it feels bad when I hurt people. Why does it feel bad when I hurt people. Is it...SUPPOSED to feel bad when I hurt people?? No one ever felt bad for hurting me.” He Figures Out How Empathy Works Eventually. He is a good guy at heart. He is a Monotone Snarker, but not actually Cold or Malicious at all.

If an Absol can do it, White can probably do it. He has incredibly keen senses and a STRONG ability to Detect Impending Doom. He has exactly the amount of Supernatural Absol Powers you would expect. He is also stupidly physically strong, way more so than he appears to be.

White can’t punch people. Look at the fist he’s making in the pic, he’s doing it wrong. If you punch someone like that, you WILL break your own thumb. That’s not a Revving Up To Sock Someone pose, he’s just tense. He’s using his thumb as a buffer between his long-ass Sharp As Fuck claws and the flesh of his palm. If White tries to punch anybody, or just makes a proper fist at all, he will impale his own hand on his nails. Like, all the way through. He CAN slash straight through things like metal and bone with those claws, though.

White...is unsettling. Completely accidentally, and unknowingly. He just radiates an Aura Of Intimidation [...or Pressure], even when not in Mega Mode, that scales depending on his mood. Just being near him tends to put people and Pokemon on edge. Thus, he’s generally avoided.

The latter point is especially unfortunate, because White’s preferred method of Socializing and Bonding is to just kind of quietly hang out in the same room as whoever he is trying to Socialize and Bond with. He just wants to, like...chill out Near A Buddy and watch a movie and share a bag of chips or something. His social skills are predictably not good.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.24: This Side of Paradise

AKA Yet Another Creepy Utopia Planet

Our episode begins with the Enterprise heading in to orbit around an Earthy-looking planet named Omicron Ceti 3. Omicon Ceti is a real star, by the way—also known as Mira or Mira A, it’s a red giant and part of a binary star system with its sister Mira B. It’s not a real likely place to go looking for such a nice homey sort of planet, though, because Mira is a pulsating variable star, which means its size and brightness is constantly fluctuating, and it’s hard to evolve life when your sun keeps flickering like a neon sign in a noir movie all the time.

Uhura reports to Kirk that she’s been transmitting a contact signal every five minutes just as he ordered, but she’s only getting dead air in response.  Kirk tells her to keep it up until they get into orbit, then moves on to talk to Spock. “There were one hundred fifty men, women and children in that colony,” he says. “What are the chances of survivors?”

Looks like the chances are, uh...not great. And by ‘not great’ I mean ‘nonexistent’. Spock explains that ‘Bertold rays’ are a recent enough discovery that there’s still a lot not known about them, but one thing that is for sure known is that exposure to these rays causes living animal tissue to disintegrate. Nasty. Evidently this planet is heavily exposed to these rays, because a group of colonists-- “Sandoval’s group”-- came here only three years ago and Spock says there’s no possibility they could have survived. Well why the heck would anyone build a colony in such a place? All Spock can say is “They knew there was a risk.”

Kirk questions whether they can risk sending a landing party down under such conditions, but Spock says the disintegration doesn’t start immediately, so they’ll be alright if they don’t stick around too long. The helmsman reports that they’ve successfully established orbit, and he’s found a settlement—or at least, something that was a settlement at one point. Kirk tells Spock to equip a landing party of five to accompany him down there, including a biologist and McCoy. That’s gonna be a fun mission briefing. “Yes, we're beaming down to a planet bombarded with deadly radiation, but no need to worry, crew, your tissues will probably only disintegrate a little bit."

Sometime later, the landing party—Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, a blueshirt and a goldshirt—materialize into a meadow near a dirt path and a picket fence. They’ve thoughtfully arranged themselves into a nice alternating pattern.

[ID: A shot of a sunny meadow with a dirt road, a few trees and a white picket fence in the background. Newly beamed down are six Enterprise crewmembers standing in two rows: in the front are Kirk and Spock, in the back are McCoy, a goldshirt, a blueshirt, and Sulu.]

The goldshirt, incidentally, is DeSalle, who we last saw back in The Squire of Gothos. The character was originally written for this story as Lt. Timothy Fletcher, but was changed to DeSalle after the production crew realized they’d cast an actor who had already appeared in the series. Yes, really. AGAIN. The blueshirt is Kelowitz, who showed up briefly in The Galileo Seven and Arena, and likewise started out as another character but was renamed after being cast. I don’t know how this situation managed to happen so often on TOS, but apparently it did. At least they both seem to have managed to hold onto more or less the same positions that they had the last time we saw them, a rare feat for any minor TOS crewmember.

The group walks forward towards some nearby farm buildings arranged around a dirt yard, with a horse-drawn cart sitting out in front of one of them. But there’s no horse to be seen, and no people either. They wander through the yard and over toward what looks like a paddock, but without any animals in it. Everything seems quite thoroughly deserted.

Kirk leans on the paddock fence and glumly muses, “Another dream that failed. There’s nothing sadder. It took these people a year to make the trip from Earth. They came all that way...and died.” Hold on, it took them a year? What, do they not give colony ships warp drives? Did they have to hitchhike here?

“Hardly that, sir,” someone says, and suddenly we see three men in green jumpsuits standing at the edge of the yard, looking very relaxed and also very not dead.

As the landing party all turn around to stare in shock the man in front strides forward and says, “Welcome to Omicron Ceti 3. I’m Elias Sandoval.” McCoy looks like he’s getting ready to spray the dude with holy water.

After the titles, we get a brief captain’s log to sum things up, just in case everyone forgot what happened during the commercial break:

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 3417.3. We thought our mission to Omicron Ceti 3 would be an unhappy one. We had expected to find no survivors of the agricultural colony there. Apparently, our information was incorrect.”

The colonists start happily shaking hands with the landing party—but happily as in “oh, it’s so nice to meet you” not “oh thank god you came to rescue us we’re all on the brink of death”. Sandoval says they haven’t seen anyone outside the colony since they left Earth four years ago, although they’ve been expecting someone to come by for a while. Apparently their subspace radio didn’t work right and they don’t have anyone who could “master its intricacies”. Now, I’m no expert on establishing colonies on alien planets, but ‘person who can work our only communication device’ does rather seem like a position you would want to make sure was filled before you left.

Kirk has to explain that they haven’t come to visit because of the dead radio. He does not explain why they did decide to come when they did. Spock’s comment about the colonists knowing there was a risk indicates that whether or not Bertold rays specifically were known about before the colonists left, they at least had reason to believe there was something dangerous about the planet. So why’d the Federation let them go and then wait another three years before sending anyone to check up on them? Eh, probably just another failing of twenty-third century space bureaucracy.

Sandoval’s not bothered about it, though. He tells Kirk that it doesn’t make much difference—the important thing is the party is here now and the colonists are happy to see them. Then he invites them on a tour of the settlement and casually strolls off, leaving the landing party to stand there and try to process what the hell they just witnessed.

“Pure speculation, just an educated guess...I’d say that man is alive,” McCoy says. Thanks Bones.

Spock says that his scans show that the planet is getting ray’d just as their reports indicated, so that’s not the issue. Under this intensity, the landing party could safely hang out here for a week if necessary, as per the usual Star Trek rule that you can be exposed to a deadly thing and be just fine up until the exact moment it kills you, but there’s a mighty big difference between a week and three years. Or as Kirk succinctly puts it, “These people shouldn’t be alive.”

“Is it possible they’re not?” Sulu asks. Great out of the box thinking there Sulu, love it.

Kirk takes a moment to consider that, which is fair—compared to the kind of weird shit they’ve encountered so far, the walking dead wouldn’t even stand out that much. But McCoy points out that when they shook hands with Sandoval, “His flesh was warm. He’s alive. There’s no doubt about that.” Spock fires back with a reminder that, “There’s no miracle connected with [Bertold rays], doctor, you know that. No cures, no serums, no antidotes. If a man is exposed long enough, he dies.” Okay dude, calm down, all McCoy said was “he’s alive” not “my god! Bertold rays have been fake all along! wake up sheeple!"

As Kirk points out, this whole debate is pretty pointless anyway for the moment—they’re arguing in a vacuum, and they’ll need more answers if they want to get anywhere. So they go to follow Sandoval, who leads them towards a nearby farm house, while a few colonists do various farm chores nearby. Sandoval explains that the colonists split into three groups, with forty-five people at this settlement and two more settlements elsewhere on the planet. Apparently they thought that arrangement would give each group a better chance for growth, since if some disaster struck one group the other two would probably still be alright.

“Omicron is an ideal agricultural planet,” he says. “We determined not to suffer the fate of the expeditions that went before us.” It’s rather vague what expeditions he’s referring to here, since at no other point in the episode are any previous attempts at settling Omicron Ceti 3 mentioned. But given that Sandoval specifically mentions the possibility of disease afflicting one group as a reason to split up, and Spock earlier said that Bertold rays were a recent discovery—and that the colonists knew coming to Omicron Ceti 3 was risky-- it seems possible that previous groups tried to settle the planet and, without knowing about the Bertold rays, mistook their effects for some kind of disease native to the planet. Of course that doesn’t explain why this group of colonists decided it would be a good idea to try to settle here again anyway, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few months, it’s that not everyone sees the possibility of dying to a terrible disease as a compelling reason to change their plans in any way.

As they stand in the farmhouse talking about this, a woman steps forward from another room in the house. She’s in soft focus, just in case we might forget she’s a woman, and instead of the green jumpsuit all the male colonists are wearing, she’s wearing green overalls over a lavender shirt, a combination that somehow manages to be an even worse fashion disaster than the jumpsuits themselves. She starts to say something to Sandoval, then stops in surprise as she sees the landing party. But for once the romance-o-vision isn’t for Kirk—it’s Spock that the camera zooms in on as the woman stares at him.

“Layla, come meet our guests,” Sandoval says cheerfully, oblivious to the wistfully romantic background music. He introduces her as Layla Colomi, their botanist. Layla says that she and Spock have met before, but “It’s been a long time.” Kirk gives Spock a bit of a side-eye for that, but Spock offers no details.

Well, all romantic tension aside, they do still have a mission to attend to here, as Kirk reminds Sandoval. Sandoval tells them to go ahead with any examinations or tests they want. “I think you’ll find our settlement an interesting one. Our philosophy is a simple one: that men should return to a less complicated life. We have few mechanical things here, no vehicles, no weapons. We have harmony here. Complete peace.” Oh yeah, that bodes well. Remember the last place we saw complete harmony and peace? At least that explains why everyone on this farm is using equipment straight out of Stardew Valley, which is presumably not the most advanced agricultural technology available by the twenty-third century. I’m not sure why Sandoval’s idea of a simpler lifestyle excludes vehicles, though. They’re not exactly the most recent thing on the timeline of human technological advancements.

Sandoval tells the landing party to make themselves at home, and they all head off. All except for Spock, who lingers just a few seconds more to give Layla a completely neutral look before walking away as well.

Everyone goes off to conduct their respective investigations. Sulu and Kelowitz wander through a yard over towards another farm building. Kelowitz isn’t sure what exactly they should be looking for, though. “Whatever doesn’t look right—whatever that is,” Sulu replies, climbing up to sit on a railing on the building’s porch. “When it comes to farms, I wouldn’t know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me.” I hope you enjoyed that line, because “didn’t grow up on a farm” is about all the backstory TOS is going to give us for Sulu until the movies.

[ID: Three screenshots showing Sulu pulling himself up to sit on the railing of an old-fashioned farmhouse as he says, "When it comes to farms, I wouldn't know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me." Growing up from the ground nearby are two large plants with thick brownish-purple stems and large pink flowers on top.]

Hey Sulu, what's that about two feet from you? Oh well, I'm sure it's not important.

Kelowitz opens up a nearby barn and notes that there’s no cows there—in fact, the barn isn’t even built for cows, just for storage, and indeed it only looks big enough to be useful for holding cow, singular. Having a storage barn isn’t itself that weird, although the fact that there is nothing currently stored in the storage barn is a bit strange. But also, as Sulu points out, come to think of it, they haven’t seen any animals here, native or imported. No cows, no horses, no pigs, not even a dog. Which is a bit odd for an agricultural colony. They must have had or expected to have animals at some point—otherwise what was pulling that cart?

Back in the house, Sandoval is asking Layla about Spock (once again referred to as a ‘Vulcanian’). She says that she knew Spock on Earth, six years ago. Sandoval, apparently having noticed the dreamy background music by now, asks if Layla loved Spock. She says that if she did, “it was important only to myself...Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me. It is said he has none to give.”

“Would you like him to stay with us now? To be one of us?” Sandoval asks. Layla smiles at him. “There is no choice, Elias,” she says. “He will stay.”

Elsewhere in the house, McCoy is scanning a colonist. He doesn’t look exactly happy with the tricorder result he gets, but all he says is, “That’ll be all, thank you very much,” and the colonist leaves, passing Kirk coming in. Incidentally, I can’t help but note that this room contains two paintings on the wall and what appears to be a cabinet full of china. I suppose the paintings could have been done by a colonist, but the china could surely only have been brought there. Who decided to pack fancy china on a year-long space voyage to an agricultural colony?

[ID: A shot of the interior of a farmhouse with blue walls, with a large wooden table in the middle of the room, a cabinet with china and glassware in the corner, a wooden desk with a copper tea kettle and some other kitchen items on it against the back wall, and a painting hanging on the wall showing some blurry trees. Sandoval, a middle-aged white man with short brown hair wearing a green jumpsuit, walks past the camera as he says, "Oh, captain, I've been looking for you."]

Kirk asks if McCoy’s found anything yet. McCoy replies that he’s surveyed nine men so far, ranging in age from twenty-three to fifty-nine. And they’re all in perfect condition. Not just healthy—perfect. Textbook responses across the board, from all of them. “If there are many more of them,” McCoy muses, “I can throw away my shingle.”

At that point Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s Spock, calling in from one of the crop fields. He’s made the same observation as Sulu—there’s no life on the planet aside from the colonists and the plants. No animals, no insects. Spock doesn’t have any explanation yet, so Kirk tells him to carry on with his investigation and hangs up.

McCoy notes the absence of animals as peculiar, and Kirk says it’s especially so because the expedition records show that they did bring animals with them to raise for food. And pull their carts, presumably. But it seems none of them are still around. McCoy says he’d like to see the expedition’s medical records, a request Kirk has apparently anticipated because he’s got the floppy disc on hand with him.

Sandoval comes in and says that he’d like to take the two of them on a tour of the fields, to show off what the colony’s accomplished. McCoy says he’ll have to bow out, since he’s still working on the medical examinations. “However, if I find everyone else’s health to be as perfect as yours...”

“You’ll find no weaklings here,” Sandoval says, which uh, sure is a hell of a way to phrase that. “No weaklings! None of those miserable, pathetic sods with imperfect health! Only the strong survive! THE SLIGHTEST BLEMISH SHALL BE CAUSE FOR EXILE!”

Leaving McCoy behind, Kirk and Sandoval head out to the fields, where Sandoval gushes to Kirk about how great this place is: they’ve got moderate climate, moderate rains all year round, and the soil will grow anything they stick in it. Which is pretty miraculous, considering there’s no such thing as growing conditions that are perfect for every plant. But as we’re about to see, that’s not the only weird thing going on with their farming practices.

The conversation is interrupted by DeSalle arriving to give Kirk the biology report. Sandoval excuses himself to attend to work elsewhere, leaving Kirk and DeSalle alone to discuss the report. At first, it seems to be just as Sandoval said: they’ve got a variety of crops growing here successfully. The weird thing is that they don’t actually have very many of those crops. There’s enough to keep the colony going at the size it currently is, but barely more than that. Which tracks with what we’ve seen of the place so far: a couple of tiny fields that look more about the size for someone’s backyard garden than for a prosperous farm, tended by the occasional person idly scratching at the ground with a hoe. For a supposedly bounteous agricultural colony, that’s pretty weird. What have they been doing all this time?

“It’s like a jigsaw puzzle all one color,” Kirk muses, taking a moment to stroll a few steps away so he can say this dramatically in the distance instead of actually talking to DeSalle. “No key to where the pieces fit in. Why?”

Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s McCoy, saying Kirk had better get back over there. “Trouble?” “No, but I’d like you to see this for yourself.” Of course. No one can ever just explain something over the phone, can they.

So Kirk heads back to the house, where the thing that Kirk just absolutely has to see for himself turns out to be McCoy just telling him what he’s found out, but he definitely couldn't do that over the communicator for, uh, reasons. What he’s found out is pretty interesting, though: McCoy checked up on Sandoval’s medical records from right before the colonists had left, which said that Sandoval had had an appendectomy, and had scar tissue on his lungs from childhood pneumonia (the weakling!). Yet when McCoy scanned Sandoval himself today, the results came back just as perfect as all the other colonists’. Kirk’s first thought is instrument failure, but McCoy says no, he thought of that and tested it by scanning himself, and it recorded him just fine, down to “those two broken ribs I had once.” Which sounds like an interesting story. But Sandoval’s scan? No scar tissue, and one healthy appendix. That’s right, Sandoval’s apparently managed to regrow an entire organ. Do you think you would notice that happening? Like, would it itch?

While Kirk and McCoy try to figure that out, Spock is hanging out in a field scanning with his own tricorder, while Layla stands nearby smiling ominously at him. Spock muses that there’s “Nothing. Not even insects. Yet your plants grow, and you’ve survived exposure to Bertold rays.” Yeah, how are those plants growing without insects? Presumably the native plants have evolved some way around that, but the ones the colonists have brought from Earth would need some help. Are the colonists just manually pollinating everything? Maybe that’s why they haven’t grown very much.

Layla says this can be explained, but when asked to do so, she just says, “Later.” Spock looks annoyed and remarks, “I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question.” Hey! Cut that bullshit out. No one on this colony has directly answered a question since you got here, there’s no call to go ragging on a whole gender for it. Besides, just saying “Later,” is hardly a stunningly deft diversion, it’s not like she threw a smoke bomb down and disappeared.

“And I never understood you,” Layla says, walking over and placing a hand on his chest. “Until now. There was always a place in here where no one could come. There was only the face you allow people to see. Only one side you’d allow them to know.”

[ID: Three screenshots of Spock and Layla, a white woman with a lot of long blonde hair wearing a lilac shirt and green overalls, standing outside in a field with a large tree in the background. Layla, seen from behind, is pressing her hand to Spock's upper chest and saying, "There was always a place in here where no one could come." Spock replies "you know that's not where my heart is right".]

If Layla was hoping this little speech would prompt Spock to cry out that yes, she’s figured him out, he does love her but has never been able to show it! she’s disappointed, because he just looks uncomfortable and steps away. He tries to steer the conversation back onto the mystery of the colonists. “If I tell you how we survive,” she asks, “will you try to understand how we feel about our life here? About each other?”

That’s a pretty vague thing to make a promise about, so Spock deflects by saying that emotions are alien to him; he’s a SCIENTIST. “Someone else might believe that—your shipmates, your captain—but not me,” Layla says. Oh sure! Obviously none of the people who have lived, worked, and risked death alongside Spock can be expected to know anything about Spock. Only you are the Spock Expert, gifted with incredible insight by virtue of having a crush on him.

“Come,” she says, sauntering off through the field with her hand outstretched to him. Spock rather pointedly folds his hands behind his back instead and follows her.

Back in the house, Kirk and McCoy are struggling to have a conversation with Sandoval. Kirk tells Sandoval that he’s received orders from Starfleet Command to evacuate everyone on the colony, since, y’know, deadly rays and all that. He expects Sandoval to start making preparations. But Sandoval, calmly, casually, says, “No.” It’s not necessary, he insists—they’re in no danger.

But...but the Bertold rays. Sandoval is unmoved,  pointing out that as McCoy’s own instruments show, the colonists are in perfect health and there have been no deaths. Okay, what about all those animals? What happened to them? “We’re vegetarians,” Sandoval says blithely. Which, as Kirk points out, does absolutely nothing to answer the question. Actually it raises further questions.

Sandoval remains thoroughly unbothered and thoroughly unhelpful. “Captain, you stress very unimportant matters. We will not leave,” he says, and goes back to gazing out the window, evidently considering the conversation over.

Elsewhere, Spock and Layla are still walking, and Spock is getting annoyed that Layla still hasn’t explained just what it is they’re going to see. “Its basic properties and elements are not important,” Layla says helpfully. “What is important is that it gives life, peace, love.” Oh boy.

Spock is dubious, but Layla pulls him forward, over towards another one of those large pink flowers. “I was one of the first to find them,” Layla says. “The spores.”

[ID: A gif of Spock approaching a large pinkish-purple flower and saying, "Spores?" The flower then sprays a cloud of white spores all over his face and torso while Spock recoils.]

For a moment Spock just looks startled, but then he starts clutching his head and falling onto his knees in the grass, dropping his tricorder and gasping, “No--” For the first time all episode, Layla’s absolute serenity starts to fracture slightly. Over Spock’s agonized protests, she insists that it shouldn’t hurt—it didn’t hurt any of them. But, as Spock gasps out, he’s not like them. Whoops, did the biologist forget to account for biological differences before handing out a facefull of spores? I bet you didn’t even check if he had any allergies first, did you?

Just as it’s looking like this might put actually put a crack in Layla’s blissed-out impassivity, Spock stops thrashing about and starts seeming less anguished and more confused. Layla’s concern vanishes once again, and she goes back to smiling happily while stroking his face. “Now...now you belong to all of us...and we to you. There’s no need to hide your inner face any longer. We understand.”

Spock still seems unsure, but then he takes Layla’s hand in his and smiles. Not the slight hint of a smile or sardonic quirk of the lips you’d expect to see from Spock, but a huge, broad grin from ear to ear. “I love you...I can love you,” he says, and then he kisses her.

Hoo boy.

After the break, we get a quick Captain’s Log to recap:

“Captain’s Log, supplemental. We have been ordered by Starfleet Command to evacuate the colony on Omicron 3. However, the colony leader, Elias Sandoval, has refused all cooperation and will not listen to any arguments.”

Sure enough, we see Sandoval exiting the farmhouse, followed by McCoy and an extremely frustrated Kirk. “Captain, your arguments are very valid, but do they not apply to us,” Sandoval says, as calm as ever. He tries to walk off, but Kirk grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“My orders are to remove all the colonists,” he says, “and that’s exactly what I intend to do with or without your help.”

“Without, I should think,” Sandoval says, and strolls off, leaving Kirk standing there fuming.

Sulu and Kelowitz come walking up to report that they’ve checked out everything and it all seems normal, except for the missing animals. Of course, they also both said they had no idea what to look for in the first place, so maybe take that with a grain of salt. Kirk tells them about the evacuation orders, and says he wants landing parties to start gathering the colonists and preparing them to leave. And by the way, where did Spock and DeSalle go? Sulu says they haven’t seen either one in some time, but McCoy says DeSalle was going to examine some native plants he found. Native plants, huh? I think we can guess what happened to DeSalle.

Since Spock still hasn’t reported in, Kirk gives him a call. Or tries to, at least—Spock doesn’t pick up. On the other end of the line, we see why that is: Spock's communicator is laying abandoned on the ground, while Spock himself, now dressed in the same horrible green jumpsuit as the colonists, is stretched out on the grass with Layla, watching clouds. The communicator beeps away while Spock happily describes how one of the clouds looks like a dragon. "I've never seen a dragon," Layla says. BEEP BEEP. "I have." BEEP BEEP. "On Barengarius 7." BEEP BEEP. "But I've never stopped to look at clouds before." BEEP BEEP. "Or rainbows." BEEP BEEP. "You know, I can tell you exactly why one appears in the sky, but considering its beauty has always been out of the question." BEEP BEEP.

"Not here," Layla says (beep beep), and they smile dreamily at each other before going into another makeout session. Meanwhile, Kirk is still on the line, and not getting any happier about it. Layla finally picks up the communicator and holds it up for Spock, who takes a break from kissin' to say, "Yes, what did you want?"

Naturally, this throws both Kirk and McCoy for a loop. While McCoy stands there with a "what the fuck" look on his face, Kirk takes a moment to recover and then demands, "Spock, is that you?"

"Yes, captain, what did you want?"

"Where are you?"

"...I don't believe I want to tell you."

[ID: Three shots of Kirk and McCoy standing in front of the farmhouse, Kirk holding his communicator while McCoy looks on. Kirk has a stunned expression on his face and looks around with his mouth open, trying to figure out what to say.]

Kirk plows on ahead, telling Spock that, whatever the hell he thinks he's doing, he's got orders: they're getting the colonists out, and Spock is to meet back at the settlement in ten minutes.

"No, I don't think so," Spock says casually. "You don't think so, what?" "I don't think so, sir."

Kirk has to take a moment after that one. It's rather amazing that McCoy's made it this far into the conversation without saying anything himself. Presumably he's just in shock. Eventually Kirk tells Spock to report in immediately, but by now Spock and Layla have gone back to kissing, leaving the communicator open but abandoned in the grass once more.

"That didn't sound at all like Spock, Jim," McCoy says, putting in his bid for the Enterprise’s bi-weekly Massive Understatement contest.

"No, it--I thought you said you might like him if he mellowed a little."

"I didn't say that!"

"You said that."

"Not exactly,” McCoy protests, and then somewhat grudgingly adds, “He might be in trouble.”

I'm sure McCoy did say that, or something like it, but "I hope Spock has his brain taken over by alien spores" was presumably not where he was going with it. He obviously sees this sudden change of behavior as something to be concerned about--even moreso than Kirk, who seems more irritated than anything. But then, it's only been a couple episodes since McCoy had his own run-in with an alien influence making people act a lot more mellow than usual, and he didn't enjoy that experience at all, so it's not surprising that "trouble" is his first thought here.

Kirk tells McCoy to take over the landing party detail and start getting the colonists up to the ship, and to make sure the party works in teams of two, with nobody being left alone. Meanwhile, Kirk himself takes Sulu and Kelowitz and heads off to find Spock, using the open frequency from Spock's communicator as a homing signal. They follow a dirt path out of the main settlement and soon find said communicator, laying open and abandoned in the grass just off the path. As Kirk picks it up, they hear laughter nearby, and Sulu points in astonishment further down the path, where Layla is watching Spock dangle upside-down from a tree branch like a kid on a jungle gym.

[ID: A shot of Spock and Layla among some trees at the end of a dirt path. Layla is standing on the ground and holding hands with Spock, who is hanging upside-down by his knees from a large tree branch, laughing.]

For a moment all Kirk can do is stare weakly at this weird spectacle. Then he collects himself with a stern AHEM and marches over like a principal about to deliver some very serious detention.

Meanwhile, back at the main hub of the colony, the landing party seems to have gotten well underway with preparations for departure, with several colonists and crewmen piling up luggage and equipment in the middle of a field while McCoy stands nearby overseeing everything, a job I’m sure he’s enjoying since we all know administrative work is McCoy’s favorite thing. Then DeSalle arrives, carrying a couple of the spore flowers and tells McCoy to take “a good, close look” at them, because they’re very interesting. McCoy steps forward to check them out right before the scene cuts away again, leaving us with little doubt as to what’s about to happen next.

During that little interim, Kirk and his crew have made it over to where Spock and Layla are cavorting. Spock just grins happily at Kirk, clearly not bothered one bit, even as Kirk asks if Spock’s out of his mind. He didn’t report to Kirk, he says, because...he didn’t want to.

Kirk glances back and forth between Spock and Layla, who’s standing there smiling rather smugly, and tells Layla that she’ll need to come get ready to evacuate with the rest of the colonists. Spock cheerfully says that there’s not going to be any evacuation. “But perhaps,” he adds, “we should go and get you straightened out.”

That really doesn’t bode well, but rather than ask just what Spock means by that, Kirk tells Sulu that Spock is under arrest in Sulu’s custody until they get back to the ship. Which will certainly work out well because it’s not like Spock is strong enough to chuck Sulu all the way across the field barehanded or anything. Not that Spock seems especially perturbed about being under arrest; instead he just shrugs, drops down from the tree, and says, “Very well. Come with me,” before heading off across the field, leaving else to follow in confusion. That’s how you arrest someone, right?

Of course, Spock leads them right to another group of spore flowers, which the group stops and stares at obligingly for a moment. Then the flowers explode a bunch of spores at them. Somehow, even though he’s standing right next to Sulu and Kelowitz, Kirk manages to totally avoid getting any spores up his sinuses, while the other two are immediately affected. “Yes...I see now,” Sulu says blissfully, with that trademark Very High grin that George Takei does so well. “Of course we can’t remove the colony. It’d be wrong.”

Kirk grabs him by the shoulders—Kirk’s go-to method for snapping people out of it--but when this somehow fails to bring Sulu back to his right mind, all Kirk can do is say that he doesn’t know what these plants are or how they work, but “you’re all going back to the settlement with me, and those colonists are going aboard the ship.” This stern proclamation has absolutely no effect on anyone. The whole group just stands there happily watching Kirk stomp back toward the colony. “I can see the captain is going to be difficult,” Spock remarks.

Kirk’s day isn’t about to get any better, because upon making it back to the colony he’s greeted by McCoy, who we can immediately tell is under the influence as well because his accent is absolutely out of control. It’s so thick even the subtitles pick up on it.

[ID: A screenshot of McCoy walking through a meadow with his communicator out, saying, "Sho’nuf."]

“Hiya, Jimmy boy!” McCoy very happily says to a very unhappy Kirk. “Hey, I’ve taken care of everything. Now all y’all gotta do is just relax. Doctor’s orders!” With a very resigned look, Kirk asks how many plants McCoy’s beamed up to the ship, and McCoy says it must be going on a hundred by now.

So Kirk beams up to the ship and heads right to the bridge, where he tells Uhura to put him through to Admiral Komak at Starfleet, though what he expects Komak to do about all this I don't know. But it’s too late. Uhura turns around to show that she’s smiling as happily as everyone else, and says, “Oh, I’m sorry Dave, I mean, captain. I can’t do that.” She’s short-circuited all the ship’s communications, except for ship-to-surface, since they’ll need that for a little while yet. Then she leaves, pausing in the door of the lift to tell Kirk that it’s really all for the best.

Kirk stands there seething for a moment, then stomps over to grab a plant that’s been left in Spock’s chair. He throws it across the bridge, and the camera lingers ominously on it as Kirk heads back into the lift.

Things aren’t any better on the rest of the ship. Kirk soon finds a long line of crewmembers of all different shirt colors, patiently waiting to transport down to join the colony. Out of what I can only assume is some desperate futile hope that someone will follow his orders if he just keeps trying, Kirk orders them all to go back to their stations at once. Unsurprisingly, they all ignore him. Kirk points out to one of the redshirts that this is MUTINY! but it doesn't get him very far.

[ID: A gif showing a young white man with brown hair wearing a redshirt as he says, "Yes, sir, it is." The camera then zooms in very dramatically on Kirk's stunned face.]

So...they’re all going down to join the colony? All four hundred thirty of them? Or four hundred twenty-nine, I guess, if Kirk refuses to join the fun. That’s almost ten times the amount of people the colony currently has in it. That seems like it could present a bit of a problem, because if you’ll recall DeSalle told Kirk earlier that right now the colony’s growing enough food to feed their current population, with little left over. How are they going to handle such a large and sudden influx into their population? Do they have housing for all these people? Or are they just all going to eat dirt and sleep on the ground because they’re all too high to notice anyway?

After we’ve had a commercial break to contemplate this shocking turn of events, Kirk takes some time out to give vent to his feelings in a captain’s log:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.5. The pod plants have spread spores throughout the ship, carried by the ventilation system. Under their influence, my crew is deserting to join the Omicron colony, and I can't stop them. I don't know why I have not been infected, nor can I get Doctor McCoy to explain the physical, psychological aspects of the infection."

And indeed, just in case we had any doubt, we then see McCoy strolling through the field and happily telling Kirk, “I’m not interested in any physical, psychological aspects, Jim-boy. We all perfectly healthy down here.” Kirk grumbles about how much he’s been hearing about things being perfect lately. “I bet you’ve even grown your tonsils back.” “Sho’nuf!”

Kirk tries desperately to get McCoy to do something to figure these spores out—run a blood test, take a scan, type the symptoms into WebMD, something, anything—but McCoy is more interested in rambling on about mint juleps.  Meanwhile, back in the farmhouse, Sandoval’s having tea with Spock while they talk about how nearly everyone’s beamed down from the ship and things are “proceeding quite well.” Kirk storms in and demands to know where McCoy’s gotten to, and Spock says he went off to make that mint julep. Which could prove quite difficult unless this tiny half-assed farm colony has somehow managed to set up a working distillery around here somewhere, but Kirk’s got bigger concerns right now than where McCoy’s going to get his bourbon.

Sandoval wants to know why Kirk won’t join them in their private, spore-sponsored paradise. Kirk asks where these spores came from, anyway, and Spock exposits that there’s no way to know—they just drifted through space until they arrived at this planet, which is perfect for them because it turns out they actually thrive on Bertold rays. The plants act as a repository for the spores until they can find a human—or half-Vulcan—body to inhabit. No explanation is forthcoming as to how Spock knows any of this.

Spock and Sandoval insist that the planet is “a true Eden” with belonging and love and no needs or wants for anyone, but Kirk is skeptical. “No wants, no needs. We weren’t meant for that. None of us. Man stagnates if he has no ambition, no desire to be more than he is.” Of all the things wrong with this situation I’m not sure “BEING TOO HAPPY IS BAD FOR YOU” is the take I would go with, but okay. Spock says that Kirk doesn’t understand, but he’ll come around...sooner or later.

Kirk, disgusted with this whole conversation, goes back to the ship. The bridge is dark, silent, and utterly empty. We get a slow pan of the blinking lights and displays of the consoles, with no one left to man them. Kirk walks over to his chair, hits the intercom, and starts calling one part of the ship after another, with no response from any of them. With nothing else left to do, he sits down in his chair and starts glumly recording a captain’s log so angsty it could be a LiveJournal entry:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.7. Except for myself, all crew personnel have transported to the surface of the planet. Mutinied. Lieutenant Uhura has effectively sabotaged the communications station. I can only contact the surface of the planet. The ship...can be maintained in orbit for several months, but even with automatic controls, I cannot pilot her alone. In effect, I am marooned here. I'm beginning to realize...just how big this ship really is, how quiet. I don't know how to get my crew back, how to counteract the effect of the spores. I don't know what I can offer against...paradise."

Hold on hold on HOLD ON what do you MEAN the ship can be maintained in orbit for several months? Every time someone takes their hands off the controls for five seconds we get told that the orbit is decaying and they’re gonna plummet into some hapless planet within a few hours at most but now all of a sudden it’s fine to hang out up there for several months? MAKE UP YOUR MIND.

Kirk gets up to go sit at the helm, just to get a change of scenery mid-mope, and as he finishes his log/rant the camera slowly pans down to reveal the spore flower that he chucked across the bridge earlier. Which is weird because we just got a wide shot of the bridge and that flower definitely wasn’t there then.

[ID: Two shots. The first is a wide shot showing Kirk alone on the empty, darkened bridge, preparing to sit down at the helm. There is nothing in on the floor in front of the helm. The second shot is a closer shot of Kirk sitting at the helm with his chin in one hand, now with a large spore flower poking up in the front of shot.]

The flower promptly shoots Kirk in the face, and for a moment he just continues to sit there with spores in his hair and a “yeah, this might as well happen” expression. But then he slowly starts to smile, suddenly as happy as everyone else. Exactly why Kirk’s been unaffected by the spores up until now, even after hanging out for quite a while on a ship that’s supposedly been thoroughly contaminated by them, is never really explained. Maybe he's just on a lot of Zyrtec. But it seems even Kirk’s determination to not be happy can’t hold out against a point-blank spray in the face. He calls Spock to say that he finally understands now, which Spock is happy to hear. Kirk says he’ll be down just as soon as he packs up a few things, so Spock says he and Layla will wait for him at the beamdown point.

So Kirk goes off to his quarters to pack up a suitcase, the contents of which seem to mostly consist of uniform shirts. Apparently paradise for Kirk does not include one of those green jumpsuits, which, really, who can blame him. He opens a small vault by his bed and pulls out a couple of black cases, one of which he opens to reveal a medal. This seems to stir some sense of conflict because he sits down and stares at it for a long moment, but then puts it aside and heads to the transporter room, where he puts the suitcase on the platform and then prepares to set the controls.

But then Kirk hesitates, and stands there for a moment looking conflicted. Possibly he’s still having feelings about those medals, or maybe he’s having second thoughts about whether he packed enough shirts. In any case, he eventually exclaims, “No...No! I...can’t...LEAVE!” Then he punches the console for good measure.

Apparently this little emotional outburst is all it takes to cure the spores, because Kirk gasps a little, looks momentarily confused, and then seems to be back to his old self. “Emotions...violent emotions. Needs...anger,” he tells the empty room. “Captain’s log, supplemental. I think I’ve discovered the answer...but to carry out my plan entails considerable risk. Mr. Spock is much stronger than the ordinary human being.” Then he treats us to this remarkable line:

[ID: A shot of Kirk in profile at the transporter controls as he says, "Aroused, his great physical strength could kill."]

um

Down on the planet, Spock and Layla are still waiting at the beamdown point when Kirk calls Spock up and says he’s realized there’s some equipment on the ship that they’ll need for the colony, and he needs Spock’s help to get it all beamed down. Really, you’d think there’d be quite a lot of equipment on the Enterprise that a farming colony could make good use of, but I guess they’re really determined to stick to the whole no-technology approach. Despite this, Spock cheerfully accepts the explanation, gives Layla a quick smooch, and beams up.

But upon materializing, Spock is greeted not with a smiling Kirk ready to go move some equipment with his bro, but Kirk standing there holding some nonspecific heavy metal rod thing that he’s smacking threatening against his hand. “All right, you mutinous, disloyal, computerized half-breed,” he says, “we’ll see about you deserting my ship.”

Spock reacts to this bar-brawl-starter with nothing more than a nonplussed expression and polite correcting Kirk on his syntax. Kirk, determination unshaken, continues laying into him with a stream of insults that would have made that fucker from Balance of Terror go, “Whoa, hold on there a minute.” Undeterred by not being able to use any actual expletives, he compares Spock both to a machine and to various fairy-tale creatures, makes fun of his ears, and rounds it all off by having a go at the entire Vulcan race. He even insults Spock’s parents.

[ID: 1. A shot of Spock standing in the transporter room looking perplexed as Kirk, off-camera, says, "Whose father was a computer and his mother an encyclopedia?" 2. A gif from Monty Python and the Holy Grail of John Cleese as the French knight on the battlements yelling, "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"]

Spock stands there taking it all stoically for quite a while, even as the background music gets increasingly tense. He finally starts to crack when Kirk goes after Spock’s relationship with Layla, and when Kirk keeps going despite Spock angrily telling him, “That’s enough,” Spock finally flips out big time. You know what that means, it’s time for a STAR TREK FIGHT SCENE! This one’s got it all: close-up shots of the actors intercut with long shots of very obvious stunt doubles; cardboard props getting punched; even people picking up random unidentifiable bits of starship equipment that may or may not have ever been there before to use as weapons. The only thing we’re missing is Kirk doing some kind of weird wrestling move.

[ID: Three gifs showing a fight scene between Kirk and Spock. First we see a long shot where Kirk and Spock are clearly being played by stunt doubles, as Spock punches a metal rod Kirk is holding, bending it in half. He then punches Kirk in the jaw, sending him careening into the wall. Then a close-up of Nimoy and Shatner as Spock advances on Kirk and throws a punch but misses, denting the control panel in the wall behind Kirk. Kirk dodges out of the way towards the console, and Spock throws another punch that hits the side of the console. Then back to a long view with the stunt doubles as Spock throws Kirk into the opposite wall, which Kirk careens off of, falling on his back on the floor, while Spock picks up something resembling a square metal stool or stepladder and raises it over his head. Finally, we see Nimoy and Shatner again as Kirk lays on the floor looking up at Spock, raising the thing he's carrying over his head.]

We dramatically cut to black as Spock stands poised above Kirk, raising whatever-the-hell-that-thing-is over his head threateningly. Apparently the ad break gives him enough time to cool down, though, because instead of bringing the thing down on Kirk’s skull, he hesitates.

“Had enough?” Kirk asks. “I didn’t realize what it took to get under that thick hide of yours.”

Spock slowly lowers the thing, looking a bit regretful about having to do so. Kirk says he doesn’t know what Spock’s so mad about, anyway. “It isn’t every first officer who gets to belt his captain...several times.” Dude, you just stood there and unleashed a screed of personal and racial insults at your best friend here. A “sorry” probably wouldn’t go amiss here.

“You did that to me deliberately,” Spock realizes, and then realizes that the spores are gone. “I don’t belong anymore.” Kirk explains that since the spores are “benevolent and peaceful,” violent emotions overwhelm and destroy them—that’s the answer. Which...definitely makes sense, chemically speaking. Sure.

Spock, still looking pretty glum about all this, points out that Kirk’s method might have worked out alright for curing one person, but they’ve got over five hundred infected people down there, and trying to pick a fight with all of them probably isn’t going to go so well. But no worries, Kirk’s got another plan. He wants Spock to rig up a subsonic transmitter that they can hook up to the ship’s communications system and then broadcast to all the communicators. Spock says he can do that, but hesitates as Kirk turns to leave. “Captain. Striking a fellow officer is a court martial offense,” he points out.

Kirk mulls over that one for a moment. “We-ll...if we’re both in the brig, who’s gonna build the subsonic transmitter?” he says, and Spock concedes the point. Besides, it’s a bit late to be worrying about striking fellow officers now.

[ID: A gif from The Naked Time of Kirk and Spock standing in an Enterprise conference room. Kirk slaps Spock across the face, and Spock retaliates by backhanding Kirk so hard he is thrown across the table in the center of the room and falls onto the floor on the other side.]

But what with the insults and the punching and de-sporing and everything, it seems that something has clean slipped Spock’s mind: Layla’s still down there waiting for him to come back. As she stands around the field, McCoy wanders over and asks what’s up. When she tells him that she’s been out here for some time now waiting for Spock and Kirk to come back, he gentlemanly offers to fix that for her and calls the ship. Spock picks up, and Layla asks if everything’s okay up there.

With obvious discomfort, Spock tells her that yes, he’s...quite well. Layla, oblivious to anything being wrong, asks if she can come up there, because she wants to talk to him, and besides, “I’ve never seen a starship before.” Wait a minute, never seen a starship before? You’re on a planetary colony! What, did you drive here?

Spock asks if she’s still at the beamdown point, and if McCoy’s there. Layla says yes to both, so Spock tells her to give the communicator back to McCoy, since she won’t need it to transport, and he’ll have her beamed up in a few minutes. One might think that at this point they might take this easy opportunity to also beam up McCoy and get him cured (it shouldn’t be hard, McCoy is already 85% comprised of negative emotions to begin with), so he can start investigating these spores, just in case Operation Go For the Eardrums doesn’t work. But they don’t. Kirk awkwardly asks Spock if he’s sure about talking to Layla while she’s still spore’d, but Spock just nods and heads to the transporter room.

He beams Layla up, and she happily runs over to give him a hug—they’ve been parted ever so long, after all—but when he just stands there stiffly, not reacting at all, she slowly pulls back and says, “You’re no longer with us, are you?”

Spock says it was necessary. Layla begs him to come back to the planet and belong again, but he says he can’t. She starts crying and saying she loves him. "I said that six years ago, and I can't seem to stop repeating myself. On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. But we're happy here. I can't lose you now, Mr. Spock, I can't." Look, if the only time the relationship you want can possibly work out is when the other person is being mind-controlled by alien spores, I think it may be time to consider whether this is really a relationship you should be pursuing in the first place.

“I have a responsibility to this ship...to that man on the bridge,” Spock gently tells her. “I am what I am, Layla. And if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else’s.”

Layla soon realizes that all this anguish has resulted in her getting de-spore’d as well, and she’s not happy about it. “And this is for my own good?” she demands angrily. Well...yes, I mean, it is, but Spock doesn’t say that. Nor does he respond when she asks, “Do you mind if I say I still love you?” but she hugs him again anyway.

[ID: Layla tearfully embraces Spock and says, "You never told me if you had another name, Mr. Spock." Spock replies, "You couldn't pronounce it."]

ROMANCE

We’re obviously supposed to read this little story arc as the tragic tale of true love destined never to be, because Spock is only able to express his feelings for Layla under the influence of the spores. He has experienced paradise, but alas, he cannot linger there, and so on. It’s never set all that well with me, though. The problem is we never really get Spock’s side of the story and so it leaves open the question of how much he actually did want this relationship in the first place. Layla said earlier that “Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me” so evidently he never outright said “I love you but I can’t be with you” or anything of that sort to her. When they’re alone in the field before Spock gets spore’d he seems stiff, standoffish, awkward, and deflects all of her overtures with what appears to be discomfort, even annoyance. He clearly has no interest in talking about whatever history they had together, even when they’re all alone. For all that Layla goes on about how she can see a side of Spock that his crewmates don’t, we see interactions with those crewmates multiple times throughout the show that prove that Spock is perfectly capable of showing people that he cares about them, even if the ways he does it are usually a bit atypical. We don’t see any of that in his initial interactions with Layla.

If we accept the premise that the spores only make people act as they would if they had no inhibitions or fears holding them back, then yes, Spock saying he loves Layla after he’s been spore’d would indicate that he did secretly love her all along. The problem is that we know the spores make people do things that they would not ordinarily want to do. You think all of those four hundred thirty people on the Enterprise secretly longed for a quiet life among the soil but all chose to instead join the space navy for some reason? Should we believe Scotty is actually deep down perfectly okay with abandoning his beloved ship to a slowly decaying orbit? I doubt that Kirk has always harbored a subconscious desire to give up exploring the final frontier to pursue a peaceful agrarian lifestyle, but he very nearly does do just that. So the question of how much a relationship with Layla is what Spock “really” wanted seems to be a bit hazy.

Mind, I’m not saying this makes Layla an evil person who deliberately drugged Spock so she could have a relationship with him or anything like that. It’s clear throughout the episode that the spores induce those who are infected by them to spread them around to anyone nearby who’s not in the spore fandom yet, so there’s no reason to believe Layla would act as she did if she wasn’t under the influence herself. I just personally find it hard to buy into the tragic romance of a star-crossed relationship when the thing crossing the stars is that one of the participants is only enthusiastic about the whole thing when they’re not fully sober. It makes me question how much of their previous relationship really was Spock having feelings for Layla but being unable to express them, versus Layla projecting a lot of feelings onto him and writing off his disinterest or discomfort as denial.

Kirk and Spock go back to working on the signal, while Layla deals with her heartbreak by disappearing into thin air for the rest of the episode. Spock says that the sound they’re going to send out is on a frequency that won’t be heard so much as felt, but apparently it will be felt quite emphatically. Kirk compares it to putting itching powder on someone. Which may seem like another silly technobabble deus ex machina, but speaking from personal experience, driving someone into a frantic frustrated fit by playing an obnoxious noise just on the edge of hearing sounds totally legit. All they need to complete the sensory overload meltdown experience is find a way to simulate some flickering florescent lights and put tags on the backs of the uniform shirts.

And indeed, as the device starts to work, we see Sulu and DeSalle working in one of the fields—for a certain value of ‘working,’ anyway, they’re kind of just digging around aimlessly—when Sulu accidentally elbows DeSalle in the back. He apologizes, but DeSalle shoves him back, and before long they’re having a full-on brawl right there in the field, which can't be good for the crops. As the device on the ship hums away, two more crewmembers start their own fight over by the farmhouse, and when a third tries to break them up he promptly gets dragged into it as well.

The effects haven’t quite reached everyone just yet, though, as we see McCoy chillaxing under a tree with some unspecified concoction. Sandoval strolls up and says that he’s been thinking about what sort of work he could assign McCoy to. When McCoy protests that he does one kind of work and that’s doctorin’, Sandoval says that he’s not a doctor anymore—they don’t need any doctors here.

This does not go over well.

[ID: A gif showing McCoy reclining against a tree in a grassy meadow, a stalk of grass in one hand and a grass of something brown with several leafy stalks in it. Sandoval is standing over him. McCoy says, "Oh, no?" and then slowly stands up, tosses his grass stalk aside, looks Sandoval in the eye and says, "Would you like to see just how fast I can put you in a hospital?"]

Undeterred, Sandoval says that he’s the leader and he’ll be assigning McCoy whatever work he wants to, but when he tries to walk away McCoy pulls him back and snarls, “You’d better make me a mechanic. Then I can treat little tin gods like you.” Sandoval throws a punch at him, but McCoy dodges and whacks Sandoval in the stomach, putting him out flat on the ground. See, I told you it wouldn’t be hard to cure McCoy. Everyone else on the Enterprise was perfectly happy to give up their careers to go do a bit of light farming, but tell McCoy he can’t be a doctor anymore and no amount of spores are going to save you.

While Sandoval is busy rolling around on the ground, McCoy stands there looking confused for a moment, then—presumably having only just now noticed that instead of a mint julep he’s actually been drinking a coke with a bunch of cilantro in it—throws his drink aside and admits that he’s not sure why he just clobbered Sandoval. But Sandoval has other concerns for the moment. With a look of dawning horror familiar to all us chronic procrastinators, he abruptly realizes that they haven’t actually been doing anything all this time. “No accomplishments, no progress. Three years wasted. We wanted to make this planet a garden...”

McCoy points out that the colonists really will have to leave—they can’t survive here without the spores handling all that radiation for them. But the dream’s not over; the colonists could be relocated to start again somewhere a bit less deadly, if that’s what they want.

“I think I’d...I think we’d like to get some work done,” Sandoval muses. “The work we set out to do.”

McCoy calls Spock and says that Sandoval wants to talk to Kirk. Spock notes to Kirk that the crew are all starting to rather sheepishly call in by now. Sandoval tells Kirk that the colonists will fully cooperate with the evacuation now, and Kirk tells him to start making the preparations. Real ones, this time.

Sometime later, everyone’s back on the bridge getting ready to head out. McCoy reports that he’s examined all the colonists and they all remain in perfect health. “A fringe benefit left over by the spores.”

One would think that this would have been quite the eventful afternoon for the medical sciences, given that they just discovered spores with such incredible healing powers that they can make people regrow organs, and McCoy just confirmed that anything healed by the spores stays healed after the spores are gone. Sure, they’ve got some side effects, but Kirk’s already discovered a simple way to get rid of the things once they’re no longer needed. Strap someone to a bed, give em a facemask full of spores, let them lay there for a while having a nice buzz while they heal their cancer or whatever, then play an irritating noise at them until they sneeze the spores back out again. Boom. Done. You’ve solved medicine. Or, y’know, we could vacate the planet and never speak of it ever again, that works too.

Notably unmentioned by anybody during this little denouement is the fate of the other two settlements on the planet that Sandoval mentioned back near the beginning of the episode. The length of the timeskip isn’t specified, so it’s possible that the crew went and collected them as well in the interim, but we never get any details as to how that little adventure went, assuming that it did happen and that the Enterprise isn’t about to get halfway to the next starbase before Kirk realizes he forgot something.

As they watch the planet diminish behind them on the viewscreen, McCoy muses that this was “the second time man’s been thrown out of paradise.” Kirk disagrees. "No, no, Bones, this time we walked out on our own. Maybe we weren't meant for paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through--struggle, claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can't stroll to the music of the lute. We must march to the sound of drums."

Spock remains unimpressed by this bit of philosophizing. “Poetry, Captain. Nonregulation.” Kirk notes that they haven’t heard anything from Spock about this whole ordeal, since, y’know, that definitely seems like something Spock would want to talk about. He says he’s got little to say about Omicron Ceti 3.

[ID: A close-up of Spock on the bridge as he says, "Except that for the first time in my life...I was happy."]

oh my god someone needs therapy

On that INCREDIBLY CHEERFUL note, the Enterprise flies away and the episode ends.

It’s somewhat baffling to me that of all the quite reasonable objections available to the whole situation with the spores, the main problem that Kirk—and by extension, the episode—seems to have is that “the spores make things too EASY and mankind was meant to STRUGGLE!!!” I mean, effectively what we had going on here was people being drugged without their consent into a state that overwrote their own desires, ambitions, emotions and much of their individual personalities and replaced them with bland, happy conformity to a goal and lifestyle none of them actually chose. That seems a bit worse to me than “people weren’t working hard enough.” Kirk goes on and on about how the spores made things too easy, but what they really did was make people apathetic to whether they succeeded at anything or not. Sandoval’s horrified when he’s cured of the spores because the colonists had much different plans for their colony; far from making those plans easier, the spores made them impossible. The dreams and desires of the Enterprise crew for a life of exploration among the stars would have been forever unmet if they had permanently joined the colony, they just wouldn’t have been able to care. Kirk seems to believe that the ultimate evil of the spores is that they deprive people of ambition; to me it seems that the worse evil is that they deprive people of their individuality and their autonomy.

Then there’s the fact that while the spores make people happy and friendly, they also make them remarkably blasé about the well-being of anyone who isn’t part of their collective. They have to be—caring about whether someone else is upset or hurt would make them unhappy, after all. Spock and McCoy are completely unconcerned with the mounting distress of their best friend, and beyond peer pressuring him to get with the program and take the spores like everyone else, they don’t seem to much care if he remains the only unhappy person on the planet. The colonists seem completely unbothered by the fact that all the animals they brought with them died a rather grueling death by radiation poisoning. Everyone on the Enterprise is happy to abandon the ship and join the colony with no message left behind for Starfleet, with apparently not a thought to spare for any friends and family back home, who would only ever know that their loved ones disappeared into space never to be seen again.

Or at least, they would if things actually went according to plan, which they probably wouldn’t, because the spores also made everyone cheerfully oblivious to the idea that anything could potentially cause a problem or pose a threat to them. After all, if Kirk hadn’t had a recovery at the last minute, the Enterprise would have been left unmanned in orbit around the planet, with no way for anyone in the colony to get back onboard. Uhura also goes out of her way to make sure that they no longer have any off-planet communication. So it’s probably not going to be long before Starfleet notices that one of their prize starships has abruptly gone incommunicado, and I’m willing to bet they’d be a bit quicker on that investigation than they were about checking on a tiny backwater colony (although it is Starfleet, so who knows, really). And since they know exactly where the ship was headed on its last recorded mission, it probably won’t take them long to find it. If Starfleet sends another ship along to investigate quickly enough, they’ll find the abandoned Enterprise hanging out in orbit around the planet, and Kirk’s log clearly lays out what happened, so all the other ship has to do is figure out how to neutralize the spores and everyone’s going to get rescued from Omicron Ceti 3 pretty quickly whether they want to be or not.

If Starfleet doesn’t show up in time...Kirk says the ship can be “maintained in orbit” for several months, but then what? It can’t stay up there forever. Sooner or later, the orbit will decay and the ship’s going to crash into the planet, and if it crashes anywhere near one of the colonies, their magic healing powers are going to be put to the test. Also their magic agriculture powers--rich soil and mild weather is all well and good, but is that going to be enough to carry all those crops through the ensuing environmental effects of an impact that big? Especially since, as already mentioned, the colony has enough to feed them and that’s about it—so they really can’t afford to lose any crops for very long.

Sure, maybe the Enterprise wouldn’t crash close enough to any of the colonies to ruin them, but why take the risk? All they had to do was have a helmsman set it on a course out of orbit, then take a shuttlecraft back to the planet. Doesn’t occur to anyone, evidently. Nor do we see anyone bothering to bring any supplies or equipment from the ship to the colony, even though there’s gotta be lots of stuff up there that would be useful. All in all, it seems quite likely that Paradise would have eventually collapsed in on itself simply because the spores make people unable to pay attention to any potential threats or obstacles long enough to do anything about them.

So what’s the moral here? ‘Society can’t survive if everyone is stoned all of the time’? I mean, okay? Sure? Cool? Glad we sorted all that out.

That said, despite having ranted for the past nine hundred words about the weird moral, I’m not saying this episode is bad. As a serious point about human nature I don’t find it especially compelling—YMMV, but I just personally tend to side-eye stories that center around the idea of “wouldn’t it be awful if we all had it too easy??”--but as fifty minutes of extremely Star Trek-y silliness it’s glorious. We’ve got Spock hanging from a tree and talking about dragons while making out in the grass, McCoy going full Georgia and wandering about with something he thinks is a mint julep, Kirk stomping around in increasing agitation as he tries to get some sense out of somebody and then making emo log entries while he sits on the bridge alone...it’s great.

The original draft of this episode apparently had the romantic subplot be for Sulu, who would have been motivated to stay with Layla after having been diagnosed with a serious medical condition that was cured by the spores, kind of like the eventual plot with McCoy in For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky. D.C. Fontana rewrote the story to focus on Spock, since if you have an episode about something that causes a strong emotional reaction, throwing Spock and his ever-present internal conflict into the mix is kind of the most immediately obvious way to generate some pathos and drama. The spores originally granted those affected with them telepathic abilities, enabling them to link with everyone else who’d been spore’d and form a hivemind. There are some traces of this in the final episode with spore’d people talking about “joining us” and “being one of us” and so on, but without the telepathy part it just kind of makes it sound like they’re in a cult. Also, the cure for the spores would have been consuming alcohol, so presumably in that draft McCoy never got infected.

For the purposes of the Trek Tally I’m going to count the spores as a Space Disease, which might be broadening the umbrella of that term a bit but hey, close enough. Next time we’ll be looking for life, Jim, but not as we know it, in The Devil in the Dark.

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

[littlespoonevan]

I feel like we always see Mickey jealous of Ian and never the other way around! Fic idea maybe? Ian finally jealous of someone hitting on Mickey lol

mickey gets a promotion in this fic bc it’s what he Deserves so he’s no longer mickey, the scary old army security guard with the tattoos, but mickey, the hot mall security guard with the tattoos lmao enjoy!!!

*

Mickey’s gotta admit, making the step up from OldArmy security guard to overall mall security guard comes with some perks. Forone thing he doesn’t have to wear that ugly ass uniform with the lilac poloshirt anymore. The pay’s better and whenever he doesn’t feel like interactingwith people he can always spend a few hours in the back office watching thesecurity cameras. Not to mention the vague sense of smug amusement he gets atthe way his new uniform almost makes him look like a cop.

There is one downside though.

He’s acquired some…fans.

He gets it, sort of. The rest of his colleagues arebalding middle-aged men with beer bellies – well, all of them except Sharonwhose tattoos are even more questionable than his and who doesn’t exactly talkto shoppers so much as barks orders at them if they’re in her way – so he getsthat he’s probably the closest thing that qualifies as eye-candy for all theteenage girls with weird security guard fetishes that hang around the mall.

Doesn’t mean they don’t get fuckin’ irritating thoughwhenever they interrupt his lunches with Ian.

Ian, the piece of shit, finds the entire thingfucking hilarious and makes sure to tell Mickey as much every time he catcheshim trying to dodge one of them while he’s trying to take his break.

Honestly, Mickey would retire to the back officeindefinitely if it weren’t for the fact that he’s the only one besides Sharonwho can outrun the little shits that try to steal stuff. So that means heusually gets stuck on patrolling duty, stalking up and down the mall untilsomeone radios him about an issue.

The mall’s been relatively quiet so far today, prettystandard for mid-morning on a weekday. Mickey’s just considering taking adetour past the pretzel cart when Johnny radios him from back office.

“Mick, can you swing by Game Zone? The cashierpressed the panic button, looks like some kids are hassling him.”

Mickey holds in a sigh and unclips his walkie-talkie.“On it,” he says, turning on his heel to go back the way he came.

He’s so not in the mood to deal with teenage assholesthat should be in school trying to disrupt his morning patrol because they feellike stealing a fucking video game. When he arrives at the store he sees threekids, all about fifteen if he had to guess, cornering the cashier while afourth is shoving games into his backpack.

Rolling his eyes, Mickey squares his shoulders andcalls out a sharp, “Hey!”

The three over by the counter all snap their heads inhis direction and the one with the games freezes mid-thievery. Mickey marchesover to him first, grabbing him by the scruff of his t-shirt and snatching thebackpack from him. “I’ll take that,” he sneers, sounding menacing enough thatthe kid relinquishes the bag without a word. Mickey gives him a warning lookbefore glaring at his friends. “I’m gonna give you little shits five seconds toget lost before I’m bringing out the taser. Your choice.”

They don’t need to be told twice, hightailing it thefuck out there. Mickey pulls the kid he’s still got a hold of close and pitcheshis voice low. “I ever find out you or your friends step foot back in thismall, it’ll be the last thing you do. Hear me?”

The kid’s eyes widen in fear and he nods frantically,stumbling a step when Mickey releases him before running for his life.

Mickey watches him go with a faint smirk beforeturning back to the cashier. “You okay, man?”

The cashier stares at him, dumbfounded, before heseems to find his words. “Y-yeah! Yeah, I’m good, thanks! They just caught meoff guard.”

Mickey nods, suppressing a snort. The guy’s skinny asa beanpole, Mickey’s not sure how much good he’d be if he was on guard or not.He makes his way over to the counter then, upending the backpack full of games.“Have fun restocking the shelves, I guess.”

“Thank again, um…Mickey?” the cashier says, squintingat his nametag and holding out a hand. “I’m Robbie.”

Mickey nods and gives the guy a once over. He can’tbe older than twenty-one, probably some college kid just trying to make a fewbucks so he can get wasted at the weekend. Taking pity on him, Mickey shakeshis hand. “Those kids shouldn’t be coming back to bother you.”

“Thanks,” Robbie breathes, opening his mouth like hewants to say more but Mickey’s radio starts going off again.

“I gotta deal with this,” Mickey says, silentlygrateful he doesn’t have to stick around and socialise. “See you around.”

*

Mickey doesn’t think much of it when he starts seeingRobbie around the place after that. He just figures it’s one of thosesituations where now that he knows who the guy is he’s able to distinguish himfrom the faceless shoppers Mickey encounters every day.

And Robbie’s an okay guy. Mickey doesn’t mindengaging in a couple of minutes of small talk with him when he passes thestore. He gets that Robbie probably gets bored during his weekday shifts – old peopleand soccer moms aren’t exactly the target demographic for a video game store.

Honestly, he doesn’t think anything of it at all untilIan does.

Mickey is on his way to the food court to meet Ianfor lunch when he hears someone calling his name. He turns around to findRobbie jogging towards him.

“Hey,” he says with a slight frown. “Everything okayat the store?” He was just about to take his fucking break; he doesn’t needthis right now. Ian’s only got half an hour before he needs to get back to theambulance.

“Yeah,” Robbie assures him with a wave of a hand oncehe reaches him. “I just thought you might be on your way to the food court? Younormally take a break around now, right?”

Mickey raises his eyebrows. He hadn’t realised theywere at the point of learning each other’s schedules. “Uh yeah?”

“Cool,” Robbie says, falling into step beside him.“I’m on break now too.”

Mickey doesn’t recall ever seeing Robbie in the foodcourt at this time but then again, Mickey doesn’t tend to pay much attention toanything besides his lunch and Ian when he’s on his break. The walk is short andslightly awkward and Mickey breathes a sigh of relief when he spots Ian waitingfor him at their usual table, both their trays of food already laid out infront of him.

“I’ll catch you later, man,” he says, absently givingRobbie a wave before making a beeline for Ian and dropping into his seat.“Hey,” he greets, bumping his foot against Ian’s under the table. “Thanks forgetting the food.”

“Who was that?” Ian asks, an odd pitch to his voice.

Mickey looks up from his food with a frown. “Who waswho?”

“The guy you came in with,” Ian says, looking weirdlyintense at some spot over Mickey’s shoulder.

“Who? Robbie?” Mickey answers around a mouthful offood. “College kid who works at the video game store downstairs.”

Ian nods, mouth a tight line. “He seems…friendly,” hesays, voice all clipped and seriously, what the fuck is wrong with him?

“I guess?” Mickey shrugs, can’t say he’s ever thoughttoo much about Robbie’s personality before.

Ian nods again and Mickey fixes him with ascrutinising look. It takes him a second but he manages to place the pinched upexpression on Ian’s face. The last time he saw that was around Byron and…

“Holy shit, are you jealous?”

“Wh- no!” Ian sputters, face twisting into a scowlwhen Mickey laughs. “I’m not fucking jealous,” he insists, slumping back in hisseat and crossing his arms. “I just don’t like how he was lookin’ at you.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey says amusedly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian grouses, avoiding Mickey’seyes and suddenly appearing very preoccupied with his lunch.

“You realise we’re literally married, right?” Mickeypoints out, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of his voice. “Sometwenty-year-old hipster that can’t even defend himself against a couple ofteenagers isn’t gonna steal me away.”

“I know,”Ian huffs, rolling his eyes before meeting Mickey’s gaze with a pleading look.“Forget it, I was being an idiot.”

“Yeah, you were,” Mickey agrees, reaching across thetable to take Ian’s hand. “In case you missed the memo, I’m in love with you,dumbass.”

And finally, a reluctant smile spreads across Ian’sface as he squeezes Mickey’s hand. “I love you too,” he says and Mickey willnever get tired of hearing that. “Can we enjoy our lunch now?”

Mickey nods and releases Ian’s hand to pick up hisfork. By the time he has to get back to work, he’s all but forgotten the Robbieconversation.

*

A couple of days later Mickey’s shift is just aboutto end when he gets waylaid by Robbie.

“Hey Mickey,” he says, managing to corner Mickey justbefore he can get to the back offices to grab his shit. “You finishing up forthe day?”

“Yep,” Mickey says, impatient enough that he hopesRobbie will get the memo that he’s in a rush. Ian actually has the day offtoday and Mickey’s 90% sure they have the whole house to themselves and dammit,he wants a few hours alone with his husband.

“You got any plans?” Robbie asks hopefully,barrelling on before Mickey can answer him. “Because, you know, I still haven’tthanked you for helping me out that one time and I was thinking we could maybegrab a beer or-“

Robbie abruptly cuts off at the exact same momentMickey feels an arm settle around his shoulders.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian greets far too enthusiastically. (Mickeyisn’t gonna complain about the cheek kiss though.)

“Hey,” Mickey says, giving Ian an I-know-what-you’re-doinglook. “Get tired of waiting for me?”

“You realise how rare a free house is, right?” Ianasks, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “We need to take advantage of everysecond we can.”

Mickey lets a slow smirk spread across his face andis just about to let Ian lean in for the kiss when he hears a noise that soundsvaguely like a squeak and remembers Robbie is still standing there.

He looks away from Ian and finds Robbie staringbetween them with wide, bewildered eyes. He’d almost feel bad for the guy ifseeing Ian get needlessly jealous wasn’t so funny.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” Ian announces, all faux-politenessas he turns to Robbie. “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Ian,” he says,sticking out his hand. “Mickey’s husband.”

“Husband!” Robbie sputters, voice high-pitched andcracking, and Mickey makes a valiant effort to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, how lucky am I, right?” Ian grins, squeezingMickey’s shoulder where he’s still got his arm around him. And Mickey knowsIan’s only saying this shit for Robbie’s benefit but it still makes him preen alittle.

Robbie seems at a loss for words and Mickey finallytakes a pity on him, deciding to end the one-sided pissing contest.

“We better get going,” he says to Ian, touching hishand to the small of Ian’s back. He has to bite the inside of his cheek when hemeets Ian’s gaze so he doesn’t start laughing. “See you later, Robbie!” hecalls, hearing Robbie’s faint, “See you,” as Ian starts steering them away.

“You enjoyed that way too much,” he mutters to Ian assoon as they’re out of earshot and Ian scoffs.

“Says the guy who used to stand over me like a guarddog when I worked at the club.”

“Those guys were literally trying to shove theirhands down your pants!” Mickey argues, elbowing Ian in the side before lettinghis arm wind round his back again.

“Fine, so we’ve established neither of us likes toshare.”

“No shit,” Mickey snorts.

Ian hums, pulling him to a stop just before theyreach the door to the back offices. “I meant it though,” he murmurs, drawingMickey in close until there’s only a few inches of space between them. “I amlucky.”

Mickey watches him for a minute, feeling his cheeksheat up and attempting to cover it up with a casual. “Fuck yeah, you are.”

Ian only smiles, looking too fond and tooaffectionate and Mickey so isn’t prepared for those eyes right now.

Patting Ian’s arms, he looks up at him with asuggestive raise of his eyebrows. “Now how about you let me get my jacket so wecan go home and I can show you how lucky you are?”  

Ian’s smile transforms into something more and hesqueezes Mickey’s hips before releasing him.

Mickey hardly gets two steps away, however, beforeIan’s dragging him back into a kiss. He figures he’s pretty damn lucky too.

*

[soriseerakyra]

Flight of Fancy -5- (Black!Batmom)

“You know we haven’t gone on that date yet.”

Perhaps if this had been the first time that he had said something like that to you would have been surprised. However, it had already been three months since you had come to work for him. More than enough time to get used to his advances. Not that they were unwelcome in the first place.

“We did go on a date,” you comment feeling a smile across your face, gaze trained on the screen in front of you. You were waiting for his X-rays come in.

“That’s how I started working here, remember?”

“Mr. Wayne,” you say in mock irritation, hands on your hips. “No one is demanding you to be the first human test subject.”

“The only test subject, unless you’ve found some mice running around here that I don’t know about.”

“Just the ones native to the Gotham underground,” you quip back. “And besides, if you’re so worried about not being able to feel your arms in the morning, find me someone that has much less to lose than the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company.”

“And have someone try and plant a spy and figure out what we’re doing, not a chance.”

“You brought me here to make experimental tech, and it sounds like you’re saying that anything I make you want me to try it out on you first.”

“I don’t sell anything that I wouldn’t use on myself first,” he says with a shrug.

“A wholesome business practice,” you say looking at him skeptically.

“What can I say, I’m a decent guy.”

“If that’s what you call it,” you say with a smirk as you focus on the screen in front of you. A download prompt had just appeared on the screen, his scans had just arrived.

“You know you don’t have to be here today; the test is tomorrow. I’m just going to be calibrating the machine to focus on any areas that look weaker than the rest on your X-Rays.”

He had been planted in one of the chairs in your workshop since you had arrived this morning, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was anxious about you seeing his X-Rays. That or he just wanted the chance to the pester you.

“And miss the chance to ask you to dinner, no way.”

Seemed like it was that latter.

“Maybe when this is done,” you say non-committally.

In truth, when you had agreed to date and work for him, you had meant it. And while you had been glad about the job, the space, the access, and the ability to limit that amount of people you encountered everyday had been wonderful; you had been hesitant to date him.

Not that you hadn’t wanted to, you looked forward to him coming down to visit you and the smiles he sent you were enough to send you to cloud nine. Still, you worried about what it would look like if you had agreed to go out with him. There was the age difference was bound to be an issue, but not the only one. Sure, the fact that you weren’t like the tall model thin girls that he usually dated, but there was alse the unfortunate reality of the scrutiny and vitriol that you would have to deal with because of your skin color. And to make matters worse, those worries came second to your other feeling, guilt.

You felt horribly guilty about what happened between you and Kenya. One of your oldest friends simply cut out of your life, like the two of you meant nothing to each other. While you would never feel bad about taking a job that would be, in the long run, better for you than any of the others had been, the way you left things off had been bad.

If you gave into Bruce, and dated him like he wanted, wouldn’t you just be proving Kenya’s point? She knew that he would be attracted to you, and she used that to her benefit and you were angry at her for it. And yet here you are, almost in the exact same postion that she had predicted that you be in, and yet you were fine with it. Perhaps agency was the issue, in this case you determined your fate while in the other, she held all the cards.

‘And I want to be in control for once,’ you think to yourself slightly bitter.

“That bad, huh?”

The questions startle you out of your thoughts and your left blinking, looking at your employer stupidly.

“Sorry?” You ask somewhat sheepishly.

“The scans,” he clarifies. “Sorry, just judging by the frown on your face I thought that the results came in.”

“Oh, right,” you say flashing him an apologetic smile. “I was lost in thought, sorry.”

Oh, and look, the X-Rays just downloaded from your computer, but that can’t be right.

“I think that they sent the wrong ones,” You mutter.

“Why do you say that?” He questions.

Your eyes flick over the screen of your computer, barely registering the fact that he had stood and was making his way over to your desk.

“Well, firstly, the folder says these are from six years ago,” you say looking at the date on the folder before opening one of the scans. “I really should be working with something more recent.”

“Hmm,” He’s standing behind you now looking at everything on your screen. “I have a feeling everything would be pretty much the same, just slightly worse.

“And second, holy shit,” you say, with wide eyes, gasping at the sight. “How are you standing right now?”

While you weren’t an expert at reading X-rays you knew enough to see the severe trauma that had been done to his body. And if you were right, judging by the callousing around his joints, this wasn’t the result of a horrible accident, but this was repeated trauma of years. And if these dates were right, there was not telling how bad a shape he was in currently.

“Is this a joke?” You ask spinning around in your chair to face him. “You’re about to keel over any second. Are these really yours? You don’t have to trick me if you want me to use the machine, I’ll do it if you want it that badly.”

He gives you a smile, “It’s not a trick, I’m pretty messed up.”

“What are you doing to yourself?” You question worriedly, your thoughts immediately going down a dark route.

“I like to mountain climb,” he says with a shrug, hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks, “I’m just not particularly good at it.”

“But this doesn-”

“Why are you so worried?” He questions with a smile. “This just means if you can fix this, you’re guaranteed to be a wealthy woman and a certified genius.”

“But-” you start anxiously.

“If it bothers you so much you should come with me to dinner tonight, you know just so you can be sure that I don’t pass out in the middle of the street.”

"Mr-"

“Bruce.”

“Bruce, sir, this is serious,” you say with slightly narrowed eyes. “You need to go to the doctor like now or something, I don’t know.”

“Let’s say it is serious,” he says the joking tone leaving his voice as he addresses your concern. “If I am about to ‘keel’ over like you say what could a doctor do for me at this point?”

“I- nothing,” you answer sadly.

“So what would be the point?” He asks.

“There wouldn’t be, I suppose,” you relent. “But you have to be and pain.”

“Luckily for me, I happen to know a genius that just so happens to have a device that could possibly make at least some of my problems go away.”

“Manageable,” you correct.

“Manageable,” he agrees.

Your eyes find themselves looking at the pale polished linoleum on the floor and your lip drawn in between your lips in uncertainty. On one hand, he was right, if everything went well tomorrow, you could really help him. On the other you were really thinking about calling Mr. Fox and having him help you drag the man to the hospital. Although would he really help you? If anyone knew Bruce it had to be him, right? So, there was a high probability that he already knew what kind of condition the man was in and thought the same way he did about it.

“Alright,” you say with a sigh. “But if this doesn’t work you have to find something that does.”

“I’m touched really-”

“Also, if you die, how will I get paid?”

He looks at you blankly for a moment as if trying to assess the seriousness of your comment, “You’re lucky I like you enough not to fire you.”

“You wouldn’t fire me until after we on a date.”

“What happened to the timid girl that I hired, I remember her being much more agreeable.”

“Well, when you have to beat an old man off with a stick every day, you tend not to feel as shy.”

“You’re killing me,” he says fight the smile from coming to his lips.

“Not as much as you’re killing yourself with your _‘mountain climbing’, _” you counter back arms crossing.

“I could take you, I think you might enjoy.”

“No thanks, I more of a dinner and a movie type of girl.”

“Good then I’ll pick you up tonight for dinner.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” you say with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t think we’ll have time for a movie though, since you know, tomorrow is a big day,” he says backing away from you and phonily checking his watch. "Hmm, maybe a party instead."

“Did you hear me? I didn’t say yes.”

“Though if we have a party I'll need a little more time to plan everything,” he says weighing the options with a furrowed brow.

“I can’t believe you,” you say feeling a relenting smile coming over your face. “Does the word 'no' even register in those ears of yours?”

He eyes you curiously for a moment, "I'm sorry I missed part of what you said. It must be my aging ears."

You can't stop the snort the nearly erupts out of you.

You meet his eyes once again, the casual intensity of his gaze made you flick your eyes away from his, but you manage a relenting nod at his suggestion. He made you nervous, the same way he did when the two of you first met. The thought of subjecting yourself to that torment, seemed like madness. You had been denying yourself something that you had wanted from the first time you met and now you were giving in. Was that really the smartest thing to do?

“Next Friday it is, then, ” he says with a smile.

“If it works,” you stipulate feeling a need to give yourself an out just in case you changed your mine.

“It will,” he promises, clearly having more confidence in your abilities than you did.

He tosses you a wave goodbye as he exits your isolated workshop.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself.

What had you gotten yourself into?

"What if I kill him, Mr. Fox?" You ask the older man who is standing next to your console, hands positioned authoritatively behind his back. The both of you were watching your subject from the observation room.

Bruce lay on a medical table in what was sure to be a freezing room, only in his boxers.

This was it, the moment that all three f you had been waiting for, although Bruce probably more so out of the lot of you.

You were worried, for many more reasons than just your experiment. It seems Mr. Wayne was more than a little secretive. And while you were aware of that when you took the job, some of his precautions were starting to seem more than a little bit ridiculous. Trying to make sure that you could mitigate whatever horrible side effects that could happen, you had suggested the hiring of a few nurses and maybe an actual doctor, to watch over him and his vitals while the experiment.

He had refused. Reiterating that he had complete faith in your expertise.

'Doesn't meant that I won't accidentally kill you,' you had thought to yourself when he had flashed that winning smile of his that made you agree to all of his requests.

"It would be a problem if he doesn't survive," the older man eventually responds to your question with a chuckle. "Try not to kill him."

You knew he was joking and that he was jut trying to keep you loose, but it only made your shoulders tighten with more anxiety. Why did neither of them seem to see this as the big deal that this actually was? Why didn't they take the possibility of the horrible pain he was about to endure seriously? Sure, he probably wouldn't die, but he could be seriously hurt, you could render him immobile or worse. Seeing the brusies and scars on his body when he began undressing made you think that he was in worse condition then you could actually fathom.

Whit a shuddering breath you try to calm yourself down. If they weren't going to worry then there was no reason that you should.

"This is going to hurt, okay?" You call to your patient lying on the table in the other room. You wondered how your voice sounded coming through that speaker. You imagine it was robotic and cold, making the message you delivered even harder to digest than it already was.

Despite that, however, he leans up and flashes you a smile through the observation window.

"I've been through worse," he says with a mischievous glint in his eye. He must have been horrible to look after when he was a child.

"So you people keep telling me," you mutter to yourself turning your attention back to the knobs and switches in front of you.

You take a moment to center yourself and confront the reality of what is happening. Hovering a few feet of the man who was helping to finance your dream, is your prototype. Well, it's more than that now isn't it? It means much more.

Eight stainless steel mechanical appendages hang limply over the table, suspended by a long arm that goes from the table to your console that holds the medication that you would be pumping into the billionaire in front of you.

The medication: A concotion of manufactured stem cells, cortisone, and other regenerative properties. You were sure that it would help some, you just weren't sure how much. Not only did the damage that he suffers seem to be exceedingly extensive, but there was always the chance that he would react negatively to the new chemicals and fluid running through his system. You weren't sure how well he would be able to function if something like that should happen. There was also the possibility of rapid degeneration of the new cells in his body, meaning that he would have to constantly have to experience the trauma of the procedure if he wanted to retain the same level of functionality after an extended period of time.

In the bright room of your lab is perhaps what scared you most about the upcoming procedure. Attached to the spider like legs of your machine were eight large sterile needles that would be digging themselves into the space between his joints, injecting him with the concoction. He kept saying that he would able to handle whatever pain that you subjected him to, but you weren't completely sure that he understood exactly what all that entailed.

There is a clock in front of you and you watch it carefully. As soon as it reached 11, you would start the experiment and you would know if the life you had so carefully built up for yourself would come crashing down or not.

The ticking of the clock hits your ears like a hammer, and you feel your throat tighten with anxiety.

“We are beginning,” you say announcing he start of the experiment.

Your mind is whirring at with all the possible outcomes, and you barley register Mr. Fox’s “good luck” and the fatherly squeeze that warms your shoulder.

With a heavy sigh you type in a few commands to the monitor in front of your and execute the experiment. As the machine begins to whir to life in front of you, you find yourself grateful that you had the wherewithal to automate the program, you have now idea if you would be able to even man the controls if it was something that you had to do manually.

It doesn’t time take long from the arms to take their positions and begin the procedure that you had only seen in your mind’s eye up until that point. They move to align at his ankles, his knees, hips, and shoulders. You see the fluid flow from the console, feeling the syringes that each was holding. The covers that were keeping the needles clean are shed and they glint in the harsh white light with their sterile glory.

‘This is it,’ you think to yourself, biting your lip in anticipation. It occurs to you that perhaps you should offer some words of encouragement to your patient. Your eyes flash to his face and his eyes are closed and his body is completely relaxed, almost like he is in some sort of meditative state, clearly, he is more ready for this than you gave him credit for.

There is a ten second countdown that flashes in the corner of your screen. The needles are all hovering above their chosen targets. The AI would handle everything else, all you had to do now is watch.

As the number’s count down the needles a lowered down until they press against his skin, forming an area of depression. There is a slight hesitation in the machine as it waits for the clock to reach zero. When it does reach that fateful number, you find yourself having to swallow a gag as the flesh across his body is pierced. To your surprise the man doesn’t let out a grunt or even flinch when the needles enter his flesh. Clearly, whatever ever he had been doing to get his body in such a disastrous shape prepared him from the pain of the procedure.

Still, though, this is only the beginning.

You see, the moment that needles hit the target not only on the screen though, but also through the slightly convulsive flinch that runs through his body. They had hit the joints that they were supposed to be targeting.

There is a feral groan that rips itself from his throat next, and you only have to through a passing glance at the screen in front of you to know that the they are now digging through the damaged areas of his joints to find the optimal place to start injecting the fluid.

You can see the pain that is beginning to etch itself on his face. You feel slightly guilty because a part of you wants to mute the sounds coming from the room as the groans begin flowing from his mouth. While you knew the had pain had to get worse in order for him to get better, knowing that you were the one that was causing him that level of discomfort hurt your heart. You wanted to make him, and others, feel better not cause them pain.

You stop yourself, however, when you see the flexing of his hands and his toes. His body clearly, trying to adjust and fight through the pain.

“I know this is hard Mr. Way-, Bruce,” you say, speaking to him through the intercom, “But you are going to have to do your best not to move so they can have the best chance at to inject the medicine where it needs to go.”

At your voice he freezes, almost like he has been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Like he just remembered that he wasn’t completely alone. His eyes, still closed, seem to tighten. His hands ball into fists and then they fall limp, the same with the rest of his body. He relaxes and all traces of pain seem to fade as if he was never troubled to begin with.

_‘His force of will is amazing,’ _you think to yourself, more than impressed watching his heart rate calm down from its stress speed.

There is a clicking sound as the machine arms have locked into place, they have found their targets and are ready to begin. There is another countdown as the medication is primed and warmed in the machine, the fluid spinning rapidly in the syringes.

“So Bruce,” you start, pausing to make sure that the man is cognizant enough to hear you. He may be so focused on blocking out the pain that he might not register what you are saying to him. Luckily, you see him move his head in your direction, giving you the cue that he as listening to what you are saying to them. “We are about to inject you with the medication, it shouldn’t hurt any more than anything you have experienced already, but it’s going to feel… weird.”

“_‘Weird’ _she says,” he says scoffing slightly.

You can’t help the small smile that comes over your face, relieved that he is aware enough to respond, no matter how sarcastic it was.

“We are beginning,” you say once more as the countdown reached zero once more.

It starts. The fluid begins to be pumped into the man’s system.

He’s quiet at first, the only sign that he is feeling what’s happening a slight groan leaving his lips. His feet start to flex again before him regain control of them and forces them relax. And though you can plainly see that he is trying to control his body as best as he can, there are some things that lie beyond his control.

You see it first in the hands, the fists that are so badly trying not to rip out the needles that are inside of him, are turning red. In fact, all of his skin is turning a deep shade of crimson. There is a sweaty sheen that begins to encase his body and his mouth opens as he begins to pant, the heat rolling over him becoming more than uncomfortable.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Mr. Fox asks you curiously, but there no traces of panic in his voice. You doubt that you would know if he felt uncomfortable until it's too late though.

“The medication needed to be primed and activated for it to work,” you explain. “In order it for it it to activate it needed to be heated up. He feels hot, because the liquid is hot, as it begins to settle he should begin to cool back down.”

You manage to stop yourself from adding an “I hope” to the end of your sentence. There was no reason to doubt yourself now, it’s too far in for you to do anything but to ride the up and downs of the procedure.

Despite the boost of self-confidence that you just tried to inject yourself with in order to come yourself down, it is quickly outweighed by the dread that rolls over as the instruments of your console begin to blink red in warning.

Everything happens so quickly, you're surprised that you were able to keep your head from popping off.

As the alerts flash on the screen, mostly stating that his temperature was reaching critical levels, the man undergoing the procedure begins to thrash and groan uncomfortably, his body rising and arching of the bed.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself as you are forced to activate emergency restraints. Two halves of a large silver ring announce themselves with an aggressive whirring and a clanking sound as the connect over top of Bruce’s body. Once they connect, they slowly begin to press down to lock him in place, he begins to shake.

Panic consumes you as your eyes flash between to the screen and back to the man. There isn’t much left that needs to pump in and yet he is in so much pain. Should you stop? Would he want you to stop? Is it right for you to stop? Your finger hovers over a button to terminate the procedure and you feel yourself gulp as the idea of pressing it bounces back and forth between your mind. It’s then that you feel the familiar hand on your shoulder, another fatherly grip there to reassure you.

“Almost done, now,” Lucius says with a hum. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw a hint of worry flash in his eyes, but there is a confidence there that reassures you and you find yourself relaxing. You warned the man about what would happen, and he told you to continue. If he has that much faith in you, you should have faith in that he would be fine and pull through.

It’s an agonizing ten minutes, that feels like ten hours. The medicine emptied into him, the needles pause their movement, a pause given in an effort for the body to cool down and the patient to relax. He groans and twists as best he can for another five minutes, but soon, he falls quiet. His body falls still. The needles, pull back and the machine lifts back up moving back into a corner. The procedure had officially finished, and you’re pretty sure that you didn’t kill the billionaire that paid you to do it. You look at the monitor, his heartbeat is steady, and his temperature is slowly returning to normal.

“Bruce?” Your question was spoken through the intercom, he doesn’t respond and all you can see is the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

“I imagine he’s passed out,” Lucius says with a bit of a chuckle with his hand sliding into his pockets. His calm attitude makes you feel like that this is something that he’s dealt with before. What kind of people had you agreed to work for?

“I’ll come back in a few hours, I’m sure he’ll be awake then.”

“Wait your leaving?!” You balk at the older man looking at him with wide worried eyes. “What am I supposed to do about him? What if he’s got brain damage or he doesn’t wake up?”

The old man gives you a small knowing smile and it frankly pisses you off a little bit, why is it they have a habit of making your concerns seem trivial. “Trust me, he’ll be fine, he’s been through worse.”

“Been through worse than mountain climbing?” You question incredulously, arms crossing in irritation. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Mountain climbing, skydiving, base jumping,he’s adventurous”, he says making his way to elevate and summoning it. “Don’t worry, he’ll pull through. And I’m sure you’ll get a bonus for all your hard work.”

You're left alone both agitated and concerned, “Can’t get a bonus if he doesn’t wake up.”

You look back at the procedure room and feel guilt racking up in your chest. The medical instruments and restraints removed from the table, he looks like a cadaver. It didn’t help that the red flush is now gone from his body and he looks disturbingly pale under the harsh lights.

With careful steps, you rise from your desk and tiptoe over to the door separating you from him. With a sigh you resign yourself to the fact it’s your duty to care for him now. It really would have been so helpful if he had allowed you to hire a nurse or two.

You enter the room and immediately make your way to one of the cabinets to fetch a blanket to cover him. There would be no telling how long he'd sleep, but he didn’t have to be cold while he did it, conscious or not.

Draping his body in the blanket, you find yourself tucking him in like a mummy, the way that your mother used to when you complained about being cold. It always kept you warm, so it would do the same for him… right?

You feel a bit of relief wash over you when you look at his face. His pale visage was slowly starting to regain some color, the blue tips of his ears flushing pink as the body begins to acclimate his temperature once again.

For now, your experiment, it seems, is a success. You hadn’t killed your boss, hurray!

Looking at him he seems very much alive, although in a state that you had never seen him before. Unguarded. It’s a strange thing to see his face at rest. A part of you didn’t know it was possible. He usually kept a flirty smirk on his face, but the few times you had seen with anything but that look he had been sporting a heavy frown and furrowed brow. There was always something that seemed to nag you about him. While you enjoyed your time with him and loved your job, you were almost certain that the flirty banter and attitude he'd greet you with wasn't the real him. Perhaps that is why you denied his request for so long. If you had agreed to go out with him who would show up to that date? Bruce the flirt, or the man who let that angry frown form on his face when he thought no one was looking. You weren’t sure that you wanted much to do with either of those people.

Looking at him now though, he looked more real. You imagine it’s because when he’s like this he’s not in control and doesn’t have the ability to act in a way that he thinks he should.

Still, if he was awake, you would have liked that a whole lot more.

When he’s was as bundled up as you can possibly make him, you leave. Back to your observation room and sit and monitor his vitals and wait.

And Wait.

And Wait.

And…

Your neck hurts, it’s aching. Your thighs feel a little numb too, and your shoulders aren’t doing any better than the rest of you. Maybe if you roll around a bit you can get comfortable and go back to sleep.

Shifting your hip to the far side of your chair, you take some unwanted pressure off of your body and soon find yourself relaxing once again into a much needed slumber.

Well, you would have, but there is a deep chuckle bouncing around in your ears and you aren’t sure where it’s coming from.

Your eyes blink open slowly, they feel heavy and you knew you had been asleep for more than a few hours. Your vision is blurry at first, the shock of the white lights confusing their focus for a second and making you unsure of your surroundings. You were sure of one thing though, there was a tall figuring standing in front of you.

“Hello?” You question, voice heavy with sleep.

“Hello,” the deep voice almost coos at you amusedly.

You know that voice and that condensation.

“Bruce?!” You question sitting up straight in your chair, eyes suddenly as awake as the rest of you are.

There he is, standing tall and strong as if he hadn’t just gone through hell. There is a little bit of weary look about him, but he looks more than healthy. And judging by the smirk on the face, more than ready to get on your nerves.

“You’re okay,” you sigh out appraising him. Nothing looked broken or contorted, and he hadn’t grown and extra arm out his back.

“I think so,” he says, flexing his hands and rolling his wrists around. “A little sore, though.”

“You should feel like shit,” you say bluntly. “But in a few days, maybe a few hours even, you should start to notice a difference. And we should schedule a time for you to do follow up X-rays.”

He nods as if he’s listening to your advice, but you can tell he’s already fascinated with how his body feels. He rolls his shoulders back and you must stop yourself from staring at the tightening fabric of his back. He brings his hand up to his face and looks at the backs and the palms multiple times. You find yourself jumping slight surprise when quickly jab one of his arms out aggressively in what would have been a knockout punch if someone was on the other side. His mouth curls up as a satisfied smirk crosses his face.

“I think you just saved my life,” he says somewhat boyishly, a giddiness in his tone that you had never heard before. It leaves you slightly stunned.

“Were you trying to punch the mountains?” You ask slightly confused by the punch.

He gives you a deep, genuine belly laugh, and you feel a warmth spill over you when it happens. You’d like to hear him laugh like so much more.

He gathers himself with a calming sigh and gives you a rather affectionate look, “With this you’re going to change the world you know that?”

“Well, there are still a few kinks to work out,” you say, averting your eyes feeling heat scorch your cheeks.

“Don’t do that, you’re brilliant,” he reemphasizes earnestly. And you wish you could stop your heart from beating so fast, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. This time, though, you decide to take the compliment in full.

“Thanks.”

“I’m still throwing that party by the way.”

’Shit’

[batboysheadcanons]

This is your spoiler warning about Justice League Dark: Apokolips War. I’ll put it in the tags too.

But basically, I thought it was beautifully done. It was violent, heartfelt, heartbreaking, and I just felt so many emotions during it all. Truly, it was a master piece to me. Let’s start from the beginning.

John and Zatanna were great together. I love their chemistry, and knowing that they had seemingly worked out their issues since the first JLD, and it’s just lovely. The humor of Bruce being a cockblock was a nice touch.

When discussing Apokolips showing up on Earth’s doorstep, I think they did a good job of showing Superman’s trauma. He is the big blue Boy Scout, and is usually level headed and reasonable but you could see his encounter with Doomsday and Hank in Reign of the Superman, fucked with him and it showed there. To the point where he angerily damages part of their conference room, and is being stubborn with his plan. He didn’t want to take any chances with Darkseid again.

The jump from them flying into Apokolips and the paradoomen (that’s my new name for them), shattering their window to Earth, 2 years later, on fire and practically desolate, was harsh. It was like, they didn’t win. And it allowed us to get backstory, from multiple perspectives, which I thought was nice. John drinking was a good touch, as it shows his serious signs of PTSD, and guilt. Etrogen not even rhyming because he doesn’t see the point was just a hard hitting reminder that this world fucking sucked.

The first encounter between Superman, raven, and John was great. Raven’s annoyance, and “oh fuck this” were perfect. She’s already got a million things to be worried about, a drunk man and a drunk demon don’t need to be added to them. Also Etrogen just burping fire onto the paradoomen was great. A bit of humor to lighten up the dark bits. We also learned a bit more about what happened to the justice league, and got to see many of them visocusly ripped apart or seriously maimed. Knowing that Darkseid didn’t kill all of them either was horrifying, as you know many of them were actually better off dead at some point. John’s sarcastic nature was helpful to not make it too dark and depressing.

Next, to my best boy Damian, who immediately stops the battle with one word and threatens Superman, blaming him for the loss of his teammates and his father. This immediately stops when Raven collapses and we see a range of emotions cross his face, and we all saw those screen caps and they were every bit as good in the movie. He immediately sets aside his disdain for Superman and is worried about her. Finding out Dick died in front of him, protecting him from a paradoomen is super fucking depressing. Learning that he used a Lazarus pit to bring him back but it not working is even worse, and then we get gutted with the line of “he was my brother”. Like you can stop now, my heart can only bleed so much.

Next is the group going to see the suicide squad. First, seeing Lois Lane fight Harley Queen was hot as hell. Secondly, boomerang and John calling each other names and both ending on “wanker” was golden. Third, which this should have honestly been first but it just crossed my kind, is Damian, back in his Robin costume instead of his League of Assassins getup, was chicken noodle soup for my batboy soul. Honestly first thing should have been that king shark and John fucking is CANON. Continuing, Superman actively and positively cheering on Lois in her fight was adorable, and I liked it. Damian and Raven admitting their feelings for each other was great, and I’m really happy that this was the endgame.

Getting to LexCorp tower, and finding out Lex is the sleeper who was feeding Lois information was amazing, because we all wanted it to be Batman, and think that he had actually fought off Darkseid’s brainwashing, and was just in a deep cover until the right time came. But it showed that even Batman can break. They lost a lot of people in the tower, and watching a beast of a woman like Lady Shiva die was terrible, but I will say it felt almost meaningless. I do wish Damian had more of a reaction, as I’m sure he actually knew Shiva quite well, due to his time with the league of assassins since he was born, and when he went back to rule them after losing all of his friends and family. But I guess you can only take so many people to Apokolips. Story wise, it does make sense, it just seemed like it had very little impact on someone who I figured it would have a bigger impact on. Seeing all of Lex’s of kryptonite was good. “I had issues.” Was a great line.

The next part on Apokolips was horrifying. We get cyborg resemblances of what’s left of the justice league. It was physically awful to look at, and I’m sure for our heros, probably doing some psychological damage. The other part of that, took place in Darkseid’s throne room. I will say, I do not buy for one second that Damian would not avoid a laser beam. He’s not out of practice, and he’s been in extreme turmoil before. Back to the throne room, that was a masterfully thought out scene. And I would like to pinpoint the exact climax of the movie, which I found to be my second favorite part, the ending being my favorite part. But it’s not John debugging cyborg and the others, it’s not the beginning of the fight with cyborg, and not even Batman’s fight with Damian. The climax of the movie is when Bruce is getting ready to kill Damian and all of a sudden, he sees himself face to face with Joe Chill, at 8 years old, and dead parents in front of him. Bruce seeing himself in his blood son was the climax of the movie, because it set off the rest of the events for the rest of the movie. Batman breaks and throws the sword at Darkseid. He gets pissed and sends Omega beams towards Bruce, and Damian steps in front and takes it, which does kill him, and that breaks Raven, and she has John free trigon, who invaded Superman’s body, and it just continues from there, until they all got to leave and Darkseid and his paradoomens, along with trigon, end up stuck in the middle of nowhere. We get the damirae kiss at the end, and the flash starting another flashpoint, effectively ending this current continuity, and setting up another one, which I think really went well, considering this is the last movie in this continuity.

Now touching on the previous point of why the climax is my second favorite part of the movie, I never explained why it was that. And for me, it’s because it didn’t have any long winded “good man” speech to accompany it. Don’t get me wrong, I think it worked well with bad blood. But Talia only had him for a little over 2 weeks. Darkseid’s had him for at least 2 years. So it would take more than some words to get it together. But it couldn’t be just any action or any thought. The one thing that pulled him out of Darkseid’s control, is the event that created Batman. It was poetic, and it just worked for me. What better way to come to your senses than to just see the original, and just be like “this is who I am.” Damian mentioned this earlier in the movie too, that Dick’s death almost broke him, the key word being almost. I thought it was great, because Batman took Dick in, because he saw himself in Dick. Dick was the first Robin, and the next in-line to the mantel. Losing any of your children isn’t easy, but losing your first son, and the one who’s always been there is even harder. But it wasn’t enough to break him.

Now I’ll be talking about some things I really liked in this movie that I didn’t include up above, one of them being John Stewart’s last stand on Oa. John, is seemingly the last green lantern alive, the guardians are dead, and any green lanterns that were making a last stand were quickly and brutally dealt with. John is right in front of the source of the green lantern power, and he’s so close. He’s almost got it, the fist is raised, and Darkseid asks for a transfer of some of earth’s magma core onto Oa. He’s burned up, along with the power source for green lanterns. It’s super crushing because you were hoping, that even if he didn’t kill Darkseid, which he probably wasn’t going to, he could at least try to slow him down. But we never got there.

Another thing I liked is when Zatanna reveals that John didn’t run away on his own accord, and that Batman always has a contingency plan. Zatanna knew she was going to die at that point but made sure John made it out so the others could have a shot at eventually winning. First of all, holy shit that is traumatizing, watching someone you love die and you’re running away. But I’m assuming other magicians can feel when magic is being used on them, and so John is so upset with what’s happening that he doesnt even feel the magic being used. He just thinks he ran away, tail between his legs, because he was scared.

Raven letting go and using her demon powers to protect them from the laser beams and then afterwards “I will kill you boy” before immediately calming down and apologizing. Raven letting go to grab Luther and threatening him “no one will mourn you” was *chef’s kiss* everything I ever needed. Damian and Raven were so protective of each other this movie and it was so sweet to watch. You could really see that he did have feelings for her and it was just sweet.

Another part I liked was John offering himself up to Trigon to use as a host body and Trigon said “fuck that” and jumped into Superman, which if you look closely, burned the liquid kryptonite out of his body, which did allow him to return to his normal form when he watched Lois die, which holy shit. Wow. That was uh depressing. But it allowed Superman to gain control again, and it made sense on why Superman was back in his normal form. The other thing, is that Trigon is already a strong being, and from his past experience with the justice league, he knows Superman is strong too. It all made sense, and I do think it was done well.

Finally, John finding out that the Flash is the reason for this is amazing and also depressing, because at this point, if you’ve seen flashpoint paradox, Barry will have to sacrifice his mom to save the rest of the world. A world where everyone is alive. You also find out that their plan to blow up the generator won’t work because flash is the generator. They also use flash at the beginning to tell everyone that he’s seen what happens and that this may not be the time to do it. At the end, broken, battered, and utterly depressed, he knows what he needs to do. Create another flashpoint. I know I mentioned it above, but it really does bring a nice end to this animated universe and opens up the door for a new one. It does seem a little deus ex machina to me, but it’s not overly outlandish like time travel in the quantum realm using pym particles (looking at you marvel). The kiss at the end between Raven and Damian was perfect, because they truly were endgame and that’s all my baby bird heart wanted.

Basically all I wanted to say with this really long post is that I liked Justice Leage Dark: Apokolips War.

[not-the-cleavers]

Target II - Chapter 5

I’m back with another chapter - still on alert for evacuation here but writing takes my mind off all the anxiety around this fire. 

Underneath the chapter I have a little snippet of pure friendship that came up while writing this chapter! 

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette​ and @amy-brooklyn99​ - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, smoking, drinking, reader kissing a girl (read that how you’d like in terms of sexuality), mentions of sexual acts (including non-consensual but only briefly I promise), mention of arousal and hinting at masturbation.  Word count; 1.6k (total so far 7.9k)

Also I used an answer from this Ben Hardy interview in this chapter!

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

“You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. Four ran his hands through his hair again as a smile broke out across his face. “Alright I’ll start easy. What’s your favourite movie or movie series?” he asked. “Super easy! I love the Saw franchise” He laughed at my response “Hey I know that it’s not the best horror series but I love them” I said pushing his shoulder a bit. “If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?” “Led Zeppelin ‘Thank You’ because it’s a beautiful love song, and everyone loves a beautiful love song.” “That’s kind of adorable” I sighed, why did he have to be so damn cute? “It’s super adorable I’ll have you know!” he laughed After a few easy questions surrounding hobbies, he blurted out “Tell me about your first kiss” “Not a question, but I’ll roll with it” I said gently mocking him “I was 14 at it was at a school camp a bunch of kids all entered our cabin and we played spin the bottle…” “Oh so a pretty boring story” Four interrupted “Will you let me finish? Mary King spun, and it landed on me, I thought she would just spin again, as were the rules laid out by the boys in the room, but instead she pulled me up and we kissed.” The look on Four’s face said it all. His mouth was slightly open and he looked like he was far off in thought. I waited patiently, sipping at my drink until he snapped out of it, finally he shook his head slightly and downed the last of the beer in his bottle before cracking open another one. “Tell me about your first kiss” I said lighting another cigarette, not giving him time to say anything in regards to my story. “Um, well, I was 15, down at the pub back home with some mates, drinking and smoking, being stupid kids really. In walked Ashley Reid, she was easily the prettiest girl in school and I had the biggest crush on her. We started dancing and having a good time and then all of a sudden she kissed me.” He said with a shrug, seemingly past the whole I kissed a girl thing. “What was your first sexual encounter?” he asked hesitantly, maybe testing the waters to see how I’d respond. But seeing as I’m a woman with zero shame I had no issue answering him. “Do you mean sex or messing around, those are two very different things.” “I guess just messing around” he shrugged. “I was 16 and I was at a high school party, I had been chatting with Scott Davis for quite some time and one thing led to another and I ended up giving him a blow job in the bathroom of this persons’ house.” I said sipping my drink, leaving out the fact I was blind drunk and he had basically taken advantage of me, I was trying to keep things as light as I could. “So…you’re not gay?” he asked, again very hesitantly “No” I laughed, ‘you have a shot with me’ I thought to myself. “Same question right back at you” “No, I’m not gay” he replied, laughing when he saw my pissed off expression. “You know what I meant” I half yelled, his laugher only making me angrier “You need to be specific love, and now you’ve lost a question” he patted my leg “Did ‘Jack and Jill’ ruin Adam Sandler’s career?” he asked, trying to calm me down by asking a pointless question. “Did he ever really have a good career?” I replied with a grimace, I couldn’t stand the guy. “Wait that’s not my next question!” I shouted, not about to lose another question to a technicality. “Good point, I guess you’re right there” he laughed. “Now you can ask the question you really wanted me to answer.” “Alright, have you ever done anything sexual in public?” I asked, slightly changing the question to catch him off guard. “Honestly, Ashley Reid when I was 15…” “C’mon don’t fuck with me, you can’t be serious” I slapped his bicep but his face told me he was in fact, being serious. “Yeah, after she kissed me we danced some more. When we got tired we sat down in a booth and she gave me a handy under the table. I had to run to the bathroom shortly afterwards and ditch my boxers. Went the rest of the night commando” he said jerking his head to the side slightly before taking another sip of his beer. Honestly was not expecting that response.

We kept going back and forth asking each other questions, going well and truly over the twenty question limit, but we were having fun. Our questions kept getting sexual and then easing back into being light hearted and funny and then back again, but as we got drunker the sexual questions became more heated. I could see Four was holding back so I piped up “I can see you have a question, I have no shame so go ahead and ask me” “Alright, do you have any kinks?” he asked, his eyes darkening slightly just waiting for my response. “Domination, tie me up and choke me…” I started rattling off a few things bound to get me hot and bothered while looking at my hands. I felt Four shift slightly to reposition himself on the bed next to me as I talked ‘am I turning him on?’ “Oh and I’m into pegging” I joked, which caused him to tense up. “Oh…” did he think that last comment was serious? I wonder how far I could take this, so I kept a straight face and asked him “what about you, what gets you going?” “Uhhh…” he scratched the back of his neck, seemingly considering whether or not to answer “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to” I told him, rubbing his arm. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. “No it’s not that. I just haven’t really developed any kinks. I’m a pretty vanilla guy” he said shyly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well there’s still time to work on that” I told him, trying to put his mind at ease. “How? I’m dead remember?” “There’s some people out there into that” I joked, causing us to collapse in a fit of laughter. My side felt like it was on fire but I didn’t care, I felt a complete sense of relaxation with Four that I had never felt with anyone else in my life. I found myself leaning against his chest, my body seemingly melting into his chiselled one. I had never noticed just how muscular he was, he was always wearing his hoodies, hiding his figure.

He eventually stopped laughing, and I felt his hand find its way under my chin, lifting it up so I was looking straight into his jade eyes. My eyes darted towards his lips right before those exact lips gently collided with mine. My hands flew up and my fingers knotted themselves into his blond locks. A slight moan escaped his lips. Without him breaking the kiss, he started to slide his leg underneath me and leant backwards so he ended up on his back. I rolled on top of him so that my chest was flush with his. His hands played at the hem of my hoodie, and I became acutely aware that I still had no shirt on underneath, but even with this sudden realisation, I didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath. The rough calloused skin on his hands felt unusually comforting against my hips. He only broke the kiss long enough for us to catch our breath and allowing me to steady myself above him, before crashing his lips back into mine. His urgency grew at the same rate as mine, and then I felt it, right against my thigh through both of our sweatpants, he was hard. His hands started to slowly travel up my back and I was loving every moment, that was until his hands made their way to my sides, causing one to land right on my healing bullet wound, causing me to jolt in pain breaking the kiss. “Fuck!” my eyes stung and the room felt like it was moving, I sat upright and moved myself off his lap. Four took a moment of realisation, before scurrying to check I was ok. “Shit Eight I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me” he said hurriedly, hiding his head in his hands, his face turning bright red in embarrassment. “Y/N” was my only response. “Sorry?” he lifted his head to search my face for some kind of clue. “That’s my name, I think we’re well beyond calling each other our numbers” I laughed weakly “Billy” he introduced himself “and I’m sorry, I crossed a line” he said sheepishly “Don’t be sorry, it’s just this fucking bullet wound. I was having the time of my life” I winked at him, causing his eyes to darken. “Look I, um, I think I should call it a night” Billy stammered. What the hell was he talking about? One quick look out the window confirmed that it was indeed late. “Holy shit, alright” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek “sleep well. Come see me again soon” I muttered. Within moments he was out the door, probably needing to go ‘take care’ of things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s chapter 5! I promise there will be more about John Dough in the next chapter, and again I don’t know when it’ll be out but I’ll release it as soon as I can! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter all about Four and Eight getting to know one another, maybe a little more than they were expecting! I’d love to hear from you guys!!

Also huge props to @adrenaline-roulette​ for all her help and for this glorious moment when I realised I’m shit at 20 questions!

Also yes I forgot the term “straight people” and went with non bi, you are allowed to judge me for that - also before anyone asks, the best way to describe my sexuality is Bi or maybe Pan (I don’t fucking know honestly, everyone is attractive to me!)...Anywho...This post has gone on for long enough, enjoy and I’ll catch ya in the next chapter!

[stoopsbookstore]

Countertop -M-

Synopsis- Seonghwa and Y/N are friends with benefits, who are too stubborn to admit their feelings for each other. A romp during a pool party leads to a jealous Seonghwa, Y/N getting tipsy and a countertop that should be cleaned.

Warnings- Sexual content, Tipsy sex, Unprotected sex, Jealously sex

Seonghwa was laying on the floor of his shared dorm room, the blanket on Yeosang's bed draped over him as he stared at Y/N who was pulling her shirt down, fixing her bra straps. The noises and shouts of a pool party hosted by the Ateez dance crew at the KQ clubhouse pounded through the door.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Y/N reached for tbe doorknob, Seonghwa standing up his naked glory, "can you at least put on some pants?"

Seonghwa shrugged, wiggling his hips, his cock waving from side to side, "don't act as if you weren't just riding it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyed by the clothes-less male who started looking for his boxers. He looked at Y/N, confused by the sudden coldness of the girl who was moaning out his name in pleasure.

"You know I'm joking, right?" Seonghwa pulled up his boxers, finally wearing a piece of fabric on his body, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

Y/N turned the knob and walked out of the room, running into Yeosang.

"Hey, Y/N!" Yeosang waved at the girl who blew right by in, walking into the room and seeing Seonghwa standing on his blanket, "Dude! My blanket again?!"

"Not now, Yeosang," Seonghwa ran his hand through his hand, "has Y/N said anything about me?"

"I remember her and Hongjoong talking about you. If I remember correctly, she said she has feelings for you, but knew that you just wanted to keep it just strictly physical, so he offered to take her on a date," Yeosang pulled the blanket from under the older male's feet, throwing it in the hamper as Seonghwa threw on a tank top and basketball shorts.

"I only wanted to keep it physical because I didn't know if I had feelings for her."

"And now you do? Oh now that Hongjoong fucked her, you want her?" Seonghwa's jaw hardened at the wide-eyed boy's vulgarity, "you want her just because Hongjoong does?"

"They fucked?" Seonghwa seemed shocked, one of his dormmates and girlfr- friend with benefits fucked, "when?"

"When you went out with Sua and Joy and proceeded to try and have a threesome with them, Joy left because she doesn't hook up like that, so you just ate Sua out. In the bathroom. With the door unlocked," Yeosang gave a pity pat to Seonghwa, who looked at the verge of punching a wall, "Better talk to her soon."

Y/N had walked into the kitchen, immediately grabbing 3 of Hongjoong's legendary Bomb-Pop flavored jello shots, throwing back as the aforementioned male walked towards her.

"Holy fuck, girl, calm down! There's plenty of more drinks to try," Hongjoong handed Y/N a light green drink, a minty smell lightly whiffing in the air, "it's a mint julep, preapred by yours truly."

"Thanks Hongie, but I think I'm going to stick with a classic Bomb-Pop," Y/N threw another back, Hongjoong throwing his arm around her, fiddling with her plaid mini-skirt as she chugged the mint julep for earlier.

"Let me guess, Seonghw issues?" Hongjoong put his head on Y/N's shoulder, another shot going in her mouth, an attempt at one more shot Hongjoong intercepted, "You should take it easy now."

Y/N leaned on the counter, watching San and Sana battle Umji and Mingyu in a chicken fight, stirring the ice of the mint julep.

"My opinion, just do what he's doing," Hongjoong leaned on the counter, mimicking Y/N, "he fucks around and expects you to be waiting for him on your knees, mouth opened, legs spread, vibrator on your clit? No. At least when I fuck around, I never promise anyone anything."

Y/N elbowed Hongjoong, "At least you're honest about being a fuckboi. You fuck and leave."

"Unless it's you, then I'll cuddle," stifling a laugh, Hongjoong rubbed Y/N's back, leaning on her shoulder and nestling his head on the crick of her neck, lightly blowing on her ear, "I could help with some of the tension."

Hongjoong pulled Y/N closer to him, eventually leaning over her and rolling his hips, Y/N hiding a moan, "maybe it's just the party or the alcohol, but I'll be glad if you help."

Seonghwa hurried down the stairs, his feet stomping on each step as he ran by Sua talking to a boy he knows as Lee Know.

"Hey babe!" Sua grabbed Seonghwa's arm, "I've been looking for you, where have you been? I figured we could have a private party upstairs."

"Not now, Sua," Seonghwa brushed Sua's hand off his bicep, "have you seen Y/N or Hongjoong, preferably separately?"

Sua rolled her eyes, "Last I saw, they were getting touchy-feely in the kitchen."

"Outside or inside?"

Sua responded with a shrug as Seonghwa rushed to the outdoor kitchen, seeing his stepsister, Yuna, and her friend, Jeongin, mixing drinks as they giggled to each other. Empty bottles of liquor around the pairing as Seonghwa stole the one that Yuna was holding.

"Aren't you two too young to drink?" Seonghwa scolded Yuna as she put down a red solo cup in shame, "why are you even here? Don't you have homework due?"

"Jongho told us there was a pool party," Yuna flashed her puppy dog eyes, "can we please stay?"

"No, you're only 16 and I'm not going to be responsible if you get busted for underaged drinking. You two can hang out in the basement for now."

Yuna and Jeongin grumbled, admitting defeat as they walked through the backdoor as Seonghwa walked into the main floor kitchen, witnessing Y/N sitting on a counter, shirt pulled over her chest, head thrown back as Hongjoong started kissing her breats through her bra, his fingers under her skirt.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" Seonghwa shouted as Hongjoong and Y/N pulled away, Y/N jumping from the counter and fixing her skirt, "what the hell?"

Y/N grabbed another jello shot, throwing it back, not wanting to deal with Seonghwa's bullshit at this moment.

"Seonghwa, list-"

"Hongjoong, get the hell out," Seonghwa stared at Y/N as she went back to stirring a different blue drink, Hongjoong scurrying out of the room, "Really? Hongjoong?"

"You don't get to say shit, Park," Y/N sipped the drink, mimicking the tall boy, "Really? Sua?"

"Ok, listen. This sounds cliche as fuck, but Sua wasn't anything, she was literally just a fuck, something to get my dick wet," Y/N scoffed at Seonghwa, "I'm serious. I had to fuck my feelings out, not even fuck her, it was just oral."

"Oh, just oral! That makes it hurt so much less," Y/N clapped her hands together.

"You fucked Hongjoong! Hi pot, I'm Kettle!"

"I did! Because you did the exact same thing. Fuck a girl with nice legs or nice tits and then come back to me, wanting me to bend over backwards for you."

"I thought you bending over backwards was one of your kinks! You always seem so flexible when I fuck you, but maybe that's just because you've been humping Hongjoong, not even a goddamn fucking hour after you were just riding my cock!"

Y/N was stunned, accidentally knocking a glass on the floor, "maybe I wouldn't have fucked Hongjoong if you had just told me your true feelings? Or maybe I would have because you just want to sleep around?"

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't," Seonghwa looked at the glass, both parties feel horrible about what was said, "can we talk about this please?"

"I don't know, can we?"

Seonghwa walked up to Y/N, placing his hand on her cheek, both of them coming to their senses, "what if I told you anytime I fucked someone else, I was picturing you? What if I had to make sure I didn't accidentally moan your name out? What if I told you I'm a fucking dumbass who had to see someone else dry humping you to discover that I am madly in love with you and I'm dying to mark you up, so Hongjoong or any other guy doesn't fuck with you?"

Y/N looked at Seonghwa's face, sweat going off his eyebrow, she grabbed a festival summer colored napkin and wiped his face, seeing the sincerity on his words.

"What if I told you I love you too? What if I told you I wanted you to bend me over the counter, pull my tits out of my shirt, flip up my skirt and fuck me doggy style right here where anyone can see us?"

Seonghwa was shocked at the intense, dirty confession from Y/N. He pulled Y/N closer, spinning her around and flipping her skirt up, "I'm going to kill Hongjoong later. If I ever see him sucking on your neck again, I'll make him watch as I fuck you senseless."

Y/N pulled her shirt up and her bra down, exposing her breasts as Seonghwa pulled down his shorts, rolling his erected cock into Y/N. He moved Y/N's underwear to the side, pushing in with little resistance, thanks to the previous encounters from earlier in the day.

"I'm yours, Y/N" Seonghwa thrusted Y/N into the counter as she moaned, the music loud enough to disguise them, "thank God this isn't an open concept house, or everyone would see us."

Y/N grabbed Seonghwa's hands that were holding him up and moved them to her breasts, not saying a wors as she held them in place. Seonghwa's fingers making quick work of Y/N's exposed nipples as Y/N threw her ass back on Seonghwa's cock.

"I can't wait to fill you up, have you all to myself, making Sua and Hongjoong know we belong to each other," Seonghwa kept his thrusts in the beat of the pounding EDM music, the pleasure from their earlier tryst helping their high.

Seonghwa freed one of his hands from Y/N's grip, reaching under her skirt and underwear to rub her clit, biting down on her neck, leaving hickeys and marks as much as he can.

"Just a little bit more, babe," Seonghwa's thrusts started to lose their rhythm, pounding into Y/N as she started to shudder in pleasure, her high crashing as Seonghwa could feel her clenching around him.

Seonghwa felt his own orgasm releasing as Y/N kept pushing back onto him.

"Take every drop, babe. It's all yours," he saw the white liquid spill out of Y/N as she fell forward on the countertop, exhaustion hitting her from her second orgasm in a short bit of time.

Seonghwa reached for another napkin, pulling out of Y/N and wiping the mess from behind her legs, wetting the napkin so he doesn't irritate the sensitive skin.

Y/N gathered enough strength to fix her shirt and turn around, a sweaty Seonghwa caging her as he caught his breath. The pair looked at each other, wanting to say the first word. Finally, the loud silence was broken when Seonghwa spoke.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Do you think we can talk about this?"

"Yeah. I think we need to."