#its supposed to be used for work but the crew quickly stops being professional and it devolves into something more casual

[bumblingbabooshka]

Voyager Crew invents the internet again but only on their ship and sometimes as a deal with other species they also give them brief access to their shitty little internet messaging boards 

[whump-a-la-mode]

Gilded Cage - Part 4

Once again, A won in a landslide. I hope the choices this time around will be a little more interesting. As a result of A winning, Journalist will help Villain.

Both of the options from last time around led to separate twists. It may be a little confusing at first, but I promise, it’ll make sense!

Again, the suggestions I received this time around were amazing!

I hope you enjoy!

CW// Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, talk of torture, talk of blood, explicit discussion of injuries, medical discussion, deciding whether a person will receive medical treatment, mention of pneumonia, amnesia, panic, talk of law enforcement and criminal charges

The news segment began with its cheery jingle, starting with a light whistle, and crescendoing into an orchestral sound.

The video dawned on Journalist’s set. Behind the camera stood their crew. But the show’s usual host was nowhere to be seen. Instead, having been replaced by two other reporters, sitting behind their table. In their chairs.

“Hello, everyone.” One of the reporters spoke with a nod of the head. Their practiced, fine-tuned smile was present on their face, but there was a level of appropriately moderated sadness to their tone. “We hate to inform you that the previous host of this show, Journalist, has unfortunately left their post.”

The other reporter spoke with a similar tone, looking up at their cohost. “Shall we get right to it, then?”

“I suppose there’s no point in beating around the bush.”

“No. There’s not.” The reporter shook their head. “Your regular news for this segment will be moved to tonight’s News at 10. After much discussion, we figured it was only right to address the situation regarding this segment’s former host.”

“Yes. I am certain that many of you have seen this video on various social medias.”

In the corner of the screen, a panel faded into existence, showing a silenced video. Only a few frames long, looping every time it finished.

The video was of remarkably low quality, and taken in remarkably low light. The faces of only one of those in it could be made out-- that of a bloody, bruised, yet alive Villain. They who stood over the injured was little more than a shadow in silhouette, face never once turning towards the camera. After a few repeats, the video skipped around, showing different frames. Always in shadow. Never showing more than a hundred pixels or so.

The action within could only truly be seen if the viewer was to squint. Or, if they knew what to look for.

“This video was released by the Organization of Heroes, late last night.” One of the reporters spoke up, after the display was finished and faded away. “It was taken by one of the employees of their headquarters, shortly after this very news segment was filmed yesterday, in that very headquarters.”

“The Organization stated that it released this video to promote transparency regarding a current investigation. Though the exact details have yet to be revealed, this video is harrowing on its own.”

“We do not know why Journalist would do this.” The reporter’s gaze met with that of the camera lens. “We all have our own opinions about Villain, but no opinion can justify beating someone senseless. We all knew Journalist. We never thought there were capable of such a horrible thing. It is believed that, after filming an interview with Villain, Journalist led them to an unused room, and beat them severely. This video shows the incident.”

“The Heroes and local law enforcement have stated that they are currently pursuing a manhunt for Journalist on charges of assault and battery.”

“To dispel rumors that have been spreading: As of only a few minutes ago, the Organization of Heroes has reported to us that Villain is alive and well. Rumors of their death are greatly exaggerated. Journalist is not being pursued as a murderer.”

“Villain is currently under the care of in-house medical professionals of the Organization. They are in critical condition, but are expected to recover.”

“If you believe to have spotted Journalist, please call the number on screen. This is a tragedy, but together, we can at the very least bring this criminal to justice. Thank you.”

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“Can they hear us?”

“No, no. They’re asleep.”

Villain’s eyes twitched, the voices above them hazy, coming from behind a layer of fog. Still, they thought they knew them... Maybe. The effort of recognizing who was speaking when made their head hurt, but their heart was beating far too fast to allow them to fade back into sedated bliss.

“Good.” Teammate muttered, their hand shifting the hospital bed ever so slightly as they placed it upon the bedrail.

“Yeah, good.” Hero’s grunt dripped with sarcasm.

“They need their rest.” Villain didn’t quite recognize the third voice, though they could only assume it was a doctor. “They’ve regained consciousness a few times, but they‘re somewhat sedated, right now. We can’t risk them choking.”

Choking. Villain knew that word. They remembered it being shouted, over and over again, next to them. Their mouth tasted so much like copper...

“I wish they’d choke.” Hero growled. Villain didn’t need to open their eyes to feel Teammate’s glare.

“Well, we’re not going to let that happen.” Doctor shook their head. “What we need to do is talk about... well, you’re in control here. We’re under your command. We have them stabilized, but if you want them to do anything more than lay in a hospital bed, we need to talk about what comes next.”

There was a moment of hesitant humming, before Teammate asked, tentatively:

“How bad is it?”

Villain had heard that question before, in a tone of panic and screaming. Who had said it?

Again, hesitance.

“Bad. Really bad.” Doctor sighed, straightening their tone to something more official. “We’ve seen some possible early signs of pneumonia, but, well...” Another deep breath. “Their torso sustained several dents. There’s risk of internal bleeding. That’s not to mention three snapped ribs, five additional broken or fractured ribs, and fractured clavicle. And the leg.”

For a moment, the nerves in the doctor’s voice turned to fury.

Villain knew that fury. The fury of someone who was watching the person they tried to protect die. Why didn’t they remember?

“A spiral fracture. I’ve never- I have no damn clue how you managed to do that. It’s generally only seen in falls, or industrial accidents, but... yes. There is a spiral fracture in their left tibia. We believe it’s shattered into five separate pieces, though we won’t be able to tell for sure until we can perform exploratory surgery. Villain will need to be a lot stronger before that, though.”

“Okay.” Teammate gritted their teeth. “And that’s all... bad.”

“Very bad.”

“Well, they’re not dead.” Hero hissed.

“They may as well be.” Doctor snapped back.

“Hey, who here is paying you-”

“Shut up, you two.” Teammate growled. “Are they going to die?”

“As it stands now... no. We have them stabilized. Any external bleeding has been stopped. But if our suspicions of pneumonia and internal bleeding are correct, then they could very well die, if we don’t act quickly. That’s what we wanted to ask you about.”

“Whether or not to save them?”

“Essentially.”

“Do it.” Hero’s tone was firm, though still frustrated. “At least for a bit. The edited video will go out on national news tonight. If this assault investigation turns into a murder one, it’ll be more scrutiny than I care to deal with. The less anyone looks into it, the better.”

“Having them back on camera so soon may not be a great idea, sir.” Doctor’s voice had practically turned to a whimper.

“Well, how soon can we expect them to be healthy enough for it?”

“A month-”

“A month?!”

“One month for the initial recovery. And at least four for subsequent physical therapy. They should not engage in any strenuous physical activity for at least that long.”

“We don’t have a month. Much less five.”

“Well, I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker.”

“I need them on the air tomorrow. Either tell me a way to make that happen, or I’ll find a better doctor.”

Doctor’s footsteps could be heard against the tile as they stumbled backwards.

“I guess there’s...”

“What is it?”

“The miracle drug. That’s what they call it. It’s certainly not a miracle, but... I’m sure you’ve heard of Hollywood medicine. An injured actor getting up the day after a car crash, looking good as new.”

“You can do that?"

“Well-”

“Then do it!”

“It’s not that simple. There’s no such thing as a miracle drug. Painkillers and steroids won’t fix their injuries, but with the right mix of them, they can be as good as new tomorrow. Well, along with some seriously good makeup work. Those injuries are... not pretty.”

“Then do that. The news is coming back at 9. Now, was that so hard?”

“Wait.” Teammate interjected. “It can’t be that simple. What’s the catch?”

“The catch?” Doctor began. “The catch is kind of the whole matter of the thing. This treatment, it won’t actually do anything. We’d be blocking pain signals to their brain, and giving them enough strength to press on despite their wounds. But that’s all. The injuries will still be there. And the longer they’re untreated, the worse it’s going to get. Especially if Villain is up and moving.”

“But they’ll be able to appear tomorrow night?”

“Yes. They’ll be good as new.”

“Then...” Teammate hesitated. “You treat them like normal, and we just give them some kind of miracle drug whenever we need them on stage?”

“Again, it’s not that simple. This treatment, it’s going to destroy any possibility of a normal recovery. It’s either or, not and. Either we treat them like normal, or we have them ready to perform tomorrow. It’s your choice, but I’m sure you know what I recommend.”

“They’re performing.” Hero spoke with such a force that it was known in the room that no one could hope to oppose the decision. “Get them up and moving. How long will this work? This miracle drug?”

“There’s no way of knowing, really. They run the risk of collapsing at pretty much any time. We’re tricking their mind into thinking it’s unharmed, but we can’t do that with the body. The wounds are still going to be very, very real.”

“Just give me an estimate.”

“I don’t know, two weeks? Less if the pneumonia gets bad.”

“And then?”

“And then they collapse. Kaput. Gone. The human body has its limits, superpowers or not.”

“I can work with two weeks. I want them back in their cell by tonight, understood?”

“Understood, sir. They’ll be as good as new. And, lay off the collar, please.”

“That depends on if they choose to behave, or not.”

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Villain wasn’t sure when the rough linen of the hospital bed turned to a duvet made of plush, laid atop an impossibly soft mattress that sunk several inches under their weight. They must have been moved at some point, they certainly didn’t remember walking. They couldn’t so much as feel their legs, so walking would have been an impossibility.

One hand curling around the plush on which they lay, they fought against their leaden eyelids until they finally relented and opened. The ceiling above them was one they knew far too well, having spent far too many sleepless nights staring up at it.

They blinked a few times, waking up their mind, which was rapidly beginning to panic.

Had they been dreaming? The day before, had all of it simply been a horrid nightmare?

Sitting up took only minor effort, and as their lungs filled with air, they felt no pain. In fact, their whole body was absent of any pain at all. Even their leg felt to not have lost an ounce of its strength.

It couldn’t have been a dream, could it have been? The pain had felt so real, but...

They raised a hand, drawing it to their ribs. Pressing down prompted no pain, only a vague soreness. But even with their limited medical knowledge, Villain knew full well that ribs weren’t supposed to fold inwards like that.

Nope. Definitely not a dream.

At least, that part wasn’t. Maybe? Trying to think about it was so difficult, causing a horrible, gnawing pain at the back of their mind. Closing their eyes to aid their focus, they did their best to recount.

They had eaten lunch, they believed. There had been others at the table. Visitors. Government representatives? The mayor, maybe? That sounded somewhat right. But then, no, that couldn’t have been right. They remembered the burning of stage lights so strongly, it must have been a news crew.

And then...

Then pain.

They didn’t remember the circumstances in any detail, but they remembered exactly how it felt for a boot to collide with their flesh, crushing all in its wake. They remembered how it felt to have every nerve alight in artificial agony.

After that, there was shouting. Someone was touching them, helping them sit up. It mustn’t have worked, though, for a moment after, they were on the ground, and there was more shouting. More yelling. Screams.

Then nothing. Next thing they could remember, they were swimming through sedatives and painkillers in a hospital bed.

And now they were here.

They looked to the clock, noting it to be late in the night. After the time at which the Heroes would have eaten dinner. There were never any appearances at night, so they would be left alone until it was time for lunch.

It probably would have been best for them to go back to sleep, to rest and recover, but now that they were awake, they couldn’t help but feel that such a thing would be impossible. Warmth ran through their veins like alcohol, making them feel more alive than they could remember having felt in quite some time.

Villain couldn’t sleep, but perhaps they could do the next best thing. They felt around their nightstand, finding eventually the television remote, and clicking on the TV mounted on the wall before them. It was what they spent most of their time doing, anyways. Staring at the screen and rotting.

The screen blinked on, displaying something that caused Villain to do a double take. They looked at the info for the channel, double checking its number.

It was the news. The Heroes had always kept every news channel, or really anything that talked about current events, firmly out of their reach. Yet, here one was, playing right in front of them.

They couldn’t help but feel a dull ache in their neck.

Still, who would catch them? No one would be coming in at this hour. Perhaps they could, at least, peek into the outside world. Hell, they would have been grateful to know the weather.

But what was playing was not the weather.

A banner on the bottom of the screen read, in big white letters, “News At 9.” Two presenters sat behind a table, a brief moment of silence hanging between them as a video played in the top right corner.

Villain saw their own face. Their own bloody, beaten face.

“It is believed that, after filming an interview with Villain, Journalist led them to an unused room, and beat them severely. This video shows the incident.”

Journalist.

Villain did not know that name, but it made their stomach twist in on itself.

Their nausea turned to panic in an instant as they heard a quiet knock, echoing against the door to their room. Already shaking, they lunged for the remote, tapping in a random number and willing the channel to change faster. By the time the doorknob twisted and the door opened, they were sweating bullets.

They looked to the doorway, doing their very best to pretend that they had only been innocently watching an approved channel.

They had expected Hero, or perhaps one of the others on their team, and they supposed that they weren’t entirely wrong.

Hero had long since stopped having a singular sidekick, stating that such a thing was horribly inefficient. Instead, they had multiple at any given time, training each for several months before sending them off to other duties.

Sidekick was one of the newer trainees. Villain couldn’t quite remember what exactly their powers were, though they remembered that this trainee in particular was one of Hero’s favorites. They were younger-- not a kid, but firmly college-aged, though their stature was far too muscular to suggest such a thing.

They had painted on their face the same smile that Hero always presented to the media. It made Villain shudder.

After flashing that bright smile a moment, Sidekick turned, closing the door with notable care and approaching their bedside. Villain turned off the television, shifting to face their visitor. Sitting up straight, drawing their shoulders back, showing all the respect that a trainee of Hero deserved.

“Can I sit?” Sidekick pointed to a spot on the bed.”

“Yes! Of course.”

They nodded, sitting down. There was a remarkable care in the way they moved and shifted, as if they were terrified of making even the slightest noise.

“Turn the TV back on.”

“Um- okay. I promise, I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to, it just turned on, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, please don’t-”

“Shh, shh. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not going to hurt you. We need to be quiet.”

Villain nodded, turning on the TV. The noise practically drowned out Sidekick’s voice, and they couldn’t help but feel that that was rather the point.

“Villain. You know me, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that I know you very well.”

“That’s okay. I’m Sidekick, and we want to help.”

“What do you mean ‘we?’“

“Me and your friend. Journalist. They couldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous, but... I know you don’t know me very well. And to be quite honest, I don’t know you very well, either.”

Sidekick raised their hand, causing Villain to flinch back. But they were not struck. Instead, the hand was presented as if offering a handshake.

“Villain, I need you to trust me.”

They felt their mouth grow dry as they looked at the offered hand.

“I know we don’t know each other well, but what I do know is that you’re suffering, and you need help. In three days, you’re going to be at a live press conference, down on the East side. There’s going to be a signal. When the sun disappears, that’s your signal. You’ll know what I mean, okay?”

“I don’t know if I-”

“Please. When you see the signal, you need to cause as much chaos as you can, okay? I mean, don’t hurt anyone, or at least try not to, but do what you need to do to get them running. That’s all you need to do. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“W-Why?”

Sidekick moved their offered hand closer.

“Villain, do you trust me?”

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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!

There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.

To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!

I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon. The choices and questions for this part are as follows:

A) Trust - Should Villain go along with the plan? B) Refuse - Should Villain report the infraction?

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: rival 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: sumeragi tenma/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.9k words, 3 images

𝐚𝐧: two people from the filo discord (ty to sel & kai) gave me the idea for this! i meant to push this out a while back, but only got the time to finish it tonight! at... 5 am... sorry for the long delay, @chewie-santatoast​ ! 

If someone were to ask Tenma why he was stalking your Instablam right now, he’d be able to spout off various excuses— all with varying levels of believability.

His first excuse was that you were going to be one of his latest co-stars in a drama. Just because the both of you were going to be part of only a few episodes doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop being diligent. He’s just doing his best to be up to date with you and the other cast, for social reasons.

Why is he so focused on your page, then?

His second excuse would be that he’s only looking, following your account because you’re one of his rivals! Not only were you someone who also started acting at a young age, but you also recently started getting into theatre! Not only were you a threat to any possible awards he could get this season, but any notable troupe was a rival to Mankai for any possible competitions or awards! He’s only looking after the company by scoping out the competition!

Why is he so focused on a specific set of images?

His third excuse, actually still pretty believable, was that he was looking at your most recent posts wherein you were clearly promoting a new play, your repost of the poster signifying that you were the lead. Rival or not, he was still interested in plays or musicals— of course he was going to learn more about the production you were going to be a part of, right?

Why is he looking so intently at the caption and comments, then?

Even in his own brain, this is where Tenma began fumbling. You were just supposed to be promoting, so why were you posting a selfie with another actor, even mentioning that same person in the caption? And- and the people in the comments! Why were they talking about “shipping” you and that guy? Comments about how cute of a couple you’d make… were they fake fans of theatre or something? People who were more engrossed with the actor’s lives than the show?

That’s exactly it… he’s repulsed by people’s audacity. Fan service was alright, but you shouldn’t be feeding your followers anything unnecessary— and why were they so adamant in taking things too far and out of context anyway?

The door creaked open, and he quickly locked his phone as he hastily stashed it underneath his pillow, face unknowingly painted with a blush as though he was hiding something scandalous instead of a picture of you doing finger hearts at the camera.

… thank God it was just Misumi, who doesn’t mention anything possibly wrong with his appearance or attitude. The older boy mentioned something about eating triangle cakes together with the rest of the troupe, and he eagerly replied in agreement as he gets up from bed.

In his head, Tenma justified his actions by telling himself it’d just be a hassle if anyone (note: Yuki or Kazunari) caught him and automatically made assumptions.

When Tenma arrived on set, you were exiting out of your car as well.

‘I should probably be friendly and greet them, right?’ he thought to himself as his body was positioning itself to avoid you instead. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, you had already spotted him and with a loud “Tenma-kun!”, his gaze was forced to meet with yours.

You made your way beside him with a blinding smile, not giving him the time to formulate a greeting in return as you began talking up a storm.

“I’m excited to work with you again!” you said, briefly pausing to greet his manager as well before turning back to him. “The last time we’ve worked together was for a drama 6 months ago, right?”

“No,” he corrected immediately, the ‘you idiot’ that would have followed thankfully left out by Tenma. “We filmed a commercial 3 months ago, and then we had a magazine spread last month.”

When you blink up at him in surprise, he found himself getting a little conscious. “It’s… it’s not like I memorised it because of you, though!” he said, beginning to explain himself, “obviously a good actor remembers the things they’re a part of, right?”

When you giggled in response, a part of him started to feel… no, not worried, but something.

“No, no, I totally get that!” you raised your arms up in surrender, “I just meant like an actual acting gig, I guess? Nothing beats having a whole new script to learn, and getting to act with the people you admire. Right, Tenma-kun?”

Inclined to agree with you, he nodded in agreement. “Right…”

You looked at him with a blank stare on your face, like he was missing something (what was there for him to miss, though?) before quickly turning away to greet some of the production crew passing by with a wave and grin.

He, for once, managed to tune out the coos and comments of, “it’s so cute that they stayed friends after all these years!” and “aww look they even entered the set together!” in favour of wondering if there was something he said (or didn’t) that ended the conversation.

…

After filming finished for the day, he decided to lag behind instead of immediately leaving. He’s worked with a bunch of the cast beforehand, so it was a good thing to catch up with them.

“Mini Sumeragi,” one of his more… out there seniors, a friend of his father, began “are you gonna keep staring at their dressing room?”

Freezing up, he mentally took note to stop darting his eyes in that direction before anyone could make something out of it; it was too late, though, when the lead actress asked who occupied that room and several people replied your name in chorus.

“Ohoho~ our young boy is finally growing up,” the lead actor said with a grin, and the whole cast amusedly watched Tenma’s cool mask forming cracks.

“Could it be you’re waiting for them to go out? Is that why you’re staying behind to chat with us oldies?” none of them look the least bit offended, but while he was safe on that aspect, the little smirks and chuckles that escaped the others made him want to justify his actions somehow.

“It’s- it’s because I— have something to tell them!” Tenma explained, despite not knowing a) what he would even say to you, and b) that he was planning on talking to you in the first place. Even though all the signs were pointing to him wanting to do so, at least to an outsider’s perspective.

With widened eyes and an over-dramatised look of shock, the show’s director herself let out a gasp. “Sumeragi-kun, you don’t mean… you’re going to…“

Tenma’s perceptive after all, especially when it came to body language. He had to be as the Summer Troupe’s leader! He could tell there was something bothering you a while ago. As co-workers, he just doesn’t want you to have an issue with him is all! Not— not that he was super concerned about what you thought about him though, it was just—

“Tenma-kun?”

The whole group turned to look at the source of the voice, and who else could it be other than the devil itself.

“I’m glad you’re still here!” you exclaimed, a smile gracing your face as you approached the ginger. “I actually had something I needed to ask you about.”

“Huh? Oh, of course you did,” he crossed his arms, averting his eyes from your expectant gaze. “What did you want?” What— what else was he supposed to say?

Unexpectedly, you bring out your phone and hand it to him. Hold on, wasn’t this like those scenes in the dramas he acted in? Or Muku’s shoujo mangas? Where the main character would hand her phone to the guy she liked and asked for his number?

“Could we start chatting on LIME?” Tenma stiffened at your words, until you followed up with “Since you got into theatre before me, you’d probably have some tips or advice, right? I’m still inexperienced, so…”

After what felt like minutes, his thumbs quickly moved to enter his phone number, adding himself as a friend on your phone.

“I’m only doing this because it’s theatre related, okay? There’s no other reason!”

“Yes, yes, I know… Tenma-kun is always very nice to me,” with a closed-eyed smile making its way to your face, the both of you remained unaware of two things. First, the reddening of Tenma’s ears, and second, the hushed commentary of the others in the room.

“… that felt like a scene from a high school drama,” the director commented as soon as the both of you were out of earshot, looking contemplative, “they’re cute. Maybe I’ll cast them as the leads in my next show.”

Several laughs come out of the group, knowing glances thrown around from one person to another. The usually professional Sumeragi Tenma finally acting his own age, and the one who caused him to act that way. Whether you two knew it or not, you two’d become the hot topic amongst the crew for the next few filming sessions.

Unsurprisingly, Yuki’s the first one to notice something was up; while Tenma was good enough to be able to hide whoever it was he was chatting with on his phone, he was not slick enough to hide how affected he got upon hearing his phone ping, or the look on his face as he read and his fingers poised themselves to reply.

What kind of person gets smiley so early in the morning without eating breakfast, just because of a text message? Disgusting, really.

Also unsurprisingly, Kazunari’s second to notice, but unlike Yuki he’s the first to properly try and figure out who Tenma’s talking to instead of just making comments here and there.

After all, the blond can only conclude two things— first, they must be a special enough person to have the always busy actor chat with them consistently during his free time; second, Tenten… probably hasn’t noticed that he’s being so, so obvious to the point that Misumi thought their very own leader found a “very special triangle”.

Kazunari found it was a little difficult, trying to figure out who it was exactly that caught Tenma’s attention, especially with the latter keeping a tighter on his phone than usual.

However, it was not impossible.

It wasn’t uncommon for several members of the troupe to gather around the living room to watch the latest episode of whatever drama Tenma was currently in. It wasn’t that uncommon either for him to watch with everyone as well, judging his own acting and seeing how it turned out through the camera.

Tonight was different though, and it would seem that always having his phone on his possession had become his own boon… or perhaps the true boon was sitting in front of Kazunari, giving him the perfect view to have a bit of a peek without being evident about his intent.

…

Tenten—

Tenten, why—

Kazunari found himself sending a mental prayer to whatever deity existed in the universe, not just for his own sanity but for…

His eyes go to the one person on screen that Tenma’s clearly been hyper focused on. ‘Yes, I pray for your sanity, too…’ he thought to himself. It was so clear that you had some semblance of more-than-friendly interest towards his friend, and you were clearly fishing a compliment out of him— if not just for the sake of a compliment, then to gauge his interest level in you.

Honestly, he can’t let this go any further— him snooping getting revealed be damned. Tenma’s been typing and hitting the backspace key for a solid two minutes now, he was clearly hopeless, and Kazunari? Why, he was a texting MASTER— it was his duty to help out his poor disciple.

“Tenten~♪,” as soon as the ginger’s attention broke from the phone, he quickly grabbed the device out of said person’s grasp, ignoring his indignant noises as he quickly typed in a response that seemed in-character enough for Tenma, but enough to pander to you.

When Tenma finally got his phone back, Kazunari resisted the urge to take a photo of the former’s face, morphing and reddening as he registered the rest of the messages.

“Why’d you… why’d you call them cute?” Tenma whisper-shouted, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation, before turning back to Kazunari.

“Awww, so you don’t think they’re a cutie?” Kazunari asked, clearly baiting Tenma to refute.

“That’s not what I— that’s not the point!”

Unable to hold himself back, he let out a laugh while one of the more serious parts of the show was playing out, causing several people to look at him in wonder. He doesn’t really have an explanation without exposing Tenma, so he gave the vague excuse of seeing something funny on his phone.

Not his phone, but hot diggity dog, did he see something funny alright.

There was no way he’d ever admit this to you, or to anyone for that matter, but he genuinely doesn’t understand you. You were rivals, weren’t you? Sure he expected you to be civil, but you were being so friendly and kind… and even worse, you were making him feel weird. You were making him do things he normally wouldn’t do.

He glanced down, the newly bought bouquet of roses seated on his lap as he waited for the play to start— the opening night of the play you were going to be in.

Opening night… when the others found out about it, they gave him knowing glances, playful nudges, teasing comments but really, what did it matter if he just so happened to watch on opening night of all nights? It was the night he was free on!

Besides, you were his rival in acting! Obviously, he was going to watch your performance to simultaneously check out your strengths and weaknesses as an actor— how you differed on set and on stage.

… no, that didn’t sound right, even in his head.

Then, he’s watching you because you went through the trouble of asking him for tips about acting on stage, and getting into theatre. He’s kind of like your teacher, right? So he has to support you

… that didn’t sound right, either.

Even after the play ended, he waited for the audience area to be mostly deserted before coming to find you backstage, the stage manager apparently recognising him and letting him pass without much questioning on who he was here to see.

When he finally found you, he stilled in his spot. Oh, you were with…

For a few seconds, his stomach churned, like a fiery pit burning his insides on fire without so much a regard towards any pain he’d fill and—

“Tenma-kun!”

As quickly as it arrived, the fire gets extinguished at the familiar shout of his name. That person turned to you, quickly muttering something that made you giggle, the forming frown on his lips only leaving as the other man did.

“I’m really happy you came to watch me~” you told him, a little bashfully. “My parents couldn’t come tonight, so it was nice to have someone I recognised other than my manager in the crowd.”

Right, opening night was… a lot for him, too. Tenma nodded understandingly. “Obviously? Oh and congratulations, by the way, you did really well,” he added in, watching you gingerly take the bouquet of red roses from his grasp. Your eyes turned a little softer at the present, stuck on the little tag even though all that was written on that pre-made to and from card was your name and his respectively.

“I said I’d watch you, right? Besides, just because you’re my rival doesn’t mean I’m gonna go break a promise.”

You remained silent for a minute, and he worried again if he somehow found another thing that would cause you to stop talking to him, at least for a little while— a time period just enough to bother him.

When you break your silence, you make sure to make direct eye-contact with him.

“… rival?”

“Yes?”

With a heavy sigh, you began muttering to yourself. While he wasn’t able to pick up on comprehensible sentences, your expression was enough to tell him you were annoyed.

Before he could question you, the smile returned to your face.

“You think we’re rivals? That’s a shame… I don’t see you that way at all,” you remarked offhandedly, watching Tenma’s face morph into a mixture confusion and hurt.

“What? Do you not think I’m good enough to be your—“

“Okay! Stop the thought right now!” you interrupted, shaking your head vehemently. What kind of derivation was that? “I think of us as more than rivals, is what I mean.”

Tenma’s blush seared through his cheeks, looking almost as though his face was lit up on fire. Despite this, he made no attempt to move to shield his face from your gaze, or any movement at all really— save for how he sputtered in search of some semblance of a viable reply.

“What do you… what are you trying to imply? Are you saying you think of me as a friend or—“

He gets interrupted by the sound of you giggling. “Well, the meaning can be whatever you want it to be!” you exclaimed, the tone of your voice a little mischievous as you continued, “so just let me know which one, okay?~”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs “Preparations.”

I’m getting ready for an interesting new arc, I think, so we shall see. I never know what my brain is going  to want to write. 

“Lieutenant, command is yours. Keep the ship operational till I get back. I want low orbit just in case we have to bail out quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

Boots clattered on metal as Commander Vir clattered down the stairs and moved quickly down the hallway. A small entourage of figures walked at his back, “I’m not sure I like this commander.” One of them was saying, “It could more than easily be a trap.”

He sighed, “I know, but the GA wants it done.”

“I would much rather do reconnaissance for a while-”

“And so would I, but the chairwoman made it very clear that we needed to speak with them as soon as possible. I’ve already tried establishing radio contact, and nothing. The only way to go now is the old fashioned way.”

They took a sharp corner, “Tell the council to meet me down in the docking bay.”

“Yes sir,” They scampered off leaving another subordinate to fill their place.

Most of the council was already there when he reached the docking bay. Dr, Krill, Sunny, Dr. Adric, Ramirez Narobi etc. etc.” He paused before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“You shouldn’t go alone.” Came the first announcement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, which means I want at least six marines, and a group from the diplomacy team. I know I’ve been taking lessons, but I don’t trust myself nearly as much as I trust them.”

“Are we sure it needs to be you at all?” Krill pointed out getting to the heart of the issue on first try, as was usual for him.

Commander Vir turned to look at the little doctor on the spot, “The Kree have demanded a high ranking representative.”

“Then lie to them, send down someone not important and pretend,” Krill said 

He crossed his arms, “We aren’t going to lie. Starting out diplomatic relations with a lie would destabilize the entire foundation of what we are trying to build, no we need proper protection is all.” He turned to look at the others, “Any objections? If so raise your concerns now?’”

Sunny raised a hand, “You're Not going unless you bring proper weapons, otherwise, I say we shouldn't meet them.”

“I agree….. And I have an idea.” The group looked nervously around at each other, “No, you are very much not going to like it, and you will probably argue with me.” He turned to Dr. Adric, and motioned hi to follow, “Ramirez get your marines and-”

“Already done commander.”

“Nice and fast of you.” He turned to look at Ramirez one last time placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are these the marines that have…. Uh…. trained with the new equipment?”

Ramirez  nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir.”

“Good.” “New equipment?” Krill wondered rather suspiciously.

“Yep you're going to hate that too.” Commander Vir announced knowing that he was going to argue and knowing that people would assume his decision was poor. But he had talked it over -- seriously -- with Ramirez, and they had both agreed it was too good a strategic advantage not to. Ramirez had then talked with the requisitions officer and so on and so forth until the package had been loaded onto the ship not a few days before, but that he thought he might be able to get away with, it was this next thing, they were going to hate.

Floating at the back of the group Conn knew what he was thinking, “They’re going to lock you up.”

“Are you exaggerating, or is that seriously what they are going to do?”

The starborn kept silent  leaving hi on edge as he moved forward and into the equipment room. He knew where it was, they had hardly hidden it as well as they thought they had, and he could tell by the nervous movement of the rest of the crew that they knew too.

Ight as well not keep them waiting.

He walked over to one side of the room, pushed a rack of guns out of the way, reached down and dragged the large silver box onto the open floor.

Immediate uproar.

“No!”

“Not on your life!: “What are you thinking!”

Commander Vir crossed his arms, planting himself before the box with feet spread wide. He let them continue to rant, sunny even tried to pull hi away, but he ducked past both of her arms and stepped back, so he was now standing on the box.

“QUIET ALL OF YOU!”

That made them shut up, at least for the moment.

“Commander, we won’t let you.”

“I know.” 

“Than why even bother bringing it up.” Sunny demanded 

Even Ramirez was looking a little put off..

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “That is why he is here. I know for a fact that I can do it, and not cause harm to myself. I’m healthy enough mentally to manage, but if the good doctor decides that I am wrong, than I will put it down and stp arguing.”

Below him, the Iron eye logo glinted in the yellowed overhead lights.

Dr. Adric looked on in concern, “What is this about?”

Krill and a few of the others turned to protest, but commander Vir stopped them with a raised hand turning to look at the doctor, “You are aware of my time in operation steel eye?”

He nodded.

“And were you aware that I put the armor back on for the burg war not some months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the project.”

He laced his hands together before him, “I published a paper on it. I know that it was a volatile experimental pice of technology that the government attached  directly into the spinal columns and muscles of the forty surviving soldiers. Each machine was powered by the steel eye prosthetic which contained the suit’s power source. I know that they used drugs to stop the excruciating pain, and that they added amphetamines to cause aggression and allow the soldiers to stay up longer…. And I know that more than three fourths of those soldiers are dead now and only have of that fourth is….. Operating functionally as people.”

Commander Vir smiled, “Yes, than you do know. IT took me years to recover from the suit, than I went and put it on again, and that caused a relapse in y mental health to a degree that I almost got myself grounded and , likely, discharged. However, during that time I also spoke to a group of people who were working on a similar project, operation Iron eye.” There was a nervous shifting around the room, “ITs the same thing as stell eye, though it requires no drugs, and no pain. The Trade off is, I had to go in for surgery because the attachments are permanent.” 

He turned around and pulled down the collar of his shirt so Dr. Adric could see the first port just below the base of his skull, “I had these done at a time where I honestly shouldn't have, but I thought this was my only option.” He turned back around, “I am well aware that is not true, but what’s done is done. I have the implants, they cannot be removed, and I have the suit. I might as well use it to protect myself. That is the point? To protect myself and the rest of the crew?”

There was silence for a moment.

“We can’t let you do this.” Dr Katie was saying.

Narobi was shaking her head emphatically .

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “I leave this decision up to you doc. If I’m not mentally healthy enough to handle it, than I will stop, but you are the expert here and the most unbiased among us.” Dr Adric shifted on the spot nervously. He could see where this was a problem. The unhealthy associations that soldiers were bound to make after an experience like that was…. Horrible to imagine, but the Commander seemed calm, so he supposed there was no issue with trying.

He was a bit nervous about all the eyes that his decision caused. Sunny looked like she was about to beat him to death with her spear, and Dr. Krill seemed intent on poisoning his drink the next time he had the chance.

They took the Iron eye box back to the medical bay, and The three doctors observed the process.

Commander Vir was feeling pretty good as he slid back into the box listening to the connections click into place. Were there some bad memories? Yeah, sure, but he could handle those well enough.

Dr Adric kept a close eye on him as he stood the whirring of hydraulics accompanying his movement. He flexed his fist inside the iron eye suit and turned to look at the others.

Krill was frowning. Sunny was glowering , Dr. Katie wouldn't even look at him. Ramirez looked very, very nervous.

Dr. Adric walked over and checked his pulse, asked a few questions, but finally decided there was no reason to tell him no. 

That pissed off almost everyone else in the room, but commander Vir pulled on the specially made iron eye gear, “You wanted me safe, and this is as safe as I can think of being, and I trust Dr. Adric’s judgement.” With each footstep, metal clattered against metal, and the soft hiss of the hydraulics accompanied him up the hall.

THe others followed in concern and anger.

The crew turned to look their eyes wide looking nervous.

They expected him to do something stupid.

What they didn’t know is that he actually had a practicing mental health professional on his side now, and truth be told, he didn’t feel anything really. Yes he could just as easily compare the experience to the steel-eye suit, but without the pain, the experiences were too different.

Reaching the docking bay for the second time. The marines were already waiting as were the diplomacy team.

Dr Krill cursed, “You arent serious.”

“Krill, I appreciate your opinion as a doctor, but in areas of equipping marines, I trust Ramirez more.”

The line of marines saluted as he drew nearer, their bodies covered by their combat ACUs, and each one wearing a matte black painted jetpack.

He turned, just in time for Ramirez to step forward with another, mounting it to the back plate on the Iron- eye suit, where it clicked satisfyingly into place.

Krill and Sunny both looked as if they were about  to have a conniption. 

He withdrew something from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I did my homework, and read the manual. I don’t plan on even using it if this all goes well.” he looked at the group of them seriously, “This isn’t for fun, everyone, this is for the safety and protection of myself and others. I have a panic button ready in case anything goes wrong, and I will have two more teams of marines on standby in low orbit in case something decides to happen. I have the diplomacy team to speak when I don’t know what to do, and I have the marines for a firefight if it comes to that. THe first sign of trouble and we fly out if we have to.”

He stepped forward a bit, looking around at the concerned and angry faces, “I understand you all are worried, but I have thought this through. I have taken your suggestions, and I am doing everything I can to stay safe.” He looked up at Sunny, “I will be equipped in the way that you suggested.” he turned to Krill and Katie, “We have the medical supplies that you ordered in the bags that were placed in the ready room.”

He turned to Narobi, “You sent in one of your best people to service all of the equipment days ago. I, and these men are as safe as we can be.” 

Maybe one day he wouldn't have to explain his actions to these people, but he understood that, in the past he had made a bunch of poor decisions. This time would not be that time. He had thought of everything, and he had talked to everyone else to consider things he hadn’t thought of. He was listening to his crew, and differing to the knowledge of experts. He didn’t pick the team, he didn’t pick the equipment, and he was going to allow the knowledge of others to carry through this time.

Yes, one day he would be able to make a decision without explaining everything, but today was not that day.

He looked around, “Are there any objections?” He held up a hand to cut Krill off, “On the basis of logic and not being angry at me?”

Krill shut his mouth.

One of the floor technicians jogged up, “The shuttle is ready commander.”

He nodded and turned to the marines, “Load up!” He then turned and ordered a second pilot onto the ship so as not to leave it unmanned when they were gone.

In the confusion, he turned to head towards the ship, but something caught his hand.

He turned and looked up to find Sunny’s golden eyes staring down at him. He could tell she was mad, displeased, and even a little hurt, though she didn’t say any of that.

The one day he thought he had made no mistakes…. And he had.

He looked around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, he took one of her other hands.

The Iron eye armor impeded a good connection but it would have to do, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

SHe remained quiet.

“I know…. I should have told you, and you can kick my ass later, ok?”

His smile fell from his face as she continued to glower.

He squeezed her hands, “Back before you can say Adam is a dipshit.” He squeezed one more time and let go turning towards the shuttle and flexing his shoulders with a hydraulic hiss , the iron eye clattering hungrily with every movement

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter Two

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 1,539

Warnings: Language, big anxiety, hint at being used

A/N: I am so sorry I forgot to upload last week! It was my birthday last Saturday and... I had a good time haha. But here is chapter two! Okay, so the “original songs” aren’t actually originals, and I put the lyrics in the actual writing because I know that sometimes people can’t listen to the songs recommended for a fic, so yeah. The songs are “Seventeen (Reprise)” by Troye Sivan and “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight” by Birdy. If you wanted to listen while reading, that would be cool, but it’s not required! Either way I hope you enjoy!

UA Idol Masterlist

───────────────────────────────────

“Oh well aren’t you just the cutest little thing!”

“Midnight, please stop calling every single contestant cute.”

“Why don’t you beg me to Aizawa.”

“No.”

“I gotta agree with her on this one, Aizawa. She’s cute.”

“Hawks, could you at least try to be professional.”

“Ha! Funny! Hi there, chickadee!” Hawks winks, and you grin. “Hello.”

“Alright, so give us the run-down of everything, you know name, reason you’re here, all that. I’m sure you’re tired of being asked, but it would be nice if we knew,” Toshinori says, giving you a wide grin. He seems like the most levelheaded out of all of them, but you know just how goofy he can get. Especially when he’s egged on by Midnight and Hawks. “Ah, I’m (F/n) (L/n), I’m here because well, my roommate Mina talked me into it.”

“The girl we just saw?” “Yeah, she didn’t want to audition alone and she knows that I write songs, so she pushed me to audition, mostly because I’ve been kind of out of the music scene for a hot minute because my ex-boyfriend didn’t like that I did it, so this is like diving right back into. Headfirst. Without taking any diving classes,” you say, and Midnight cocks her head to the side. “Ex-boyfriend? Didn’t like that you did music? Why?”

“He said it was childish and that I need to get a job that will actually provide for me, and since he was older than me, he thought he knew everything. And that’s how I ended up working at some boring ass retail job. Oh, sorry I just swore,” you say, covering your mouth with one hand, eyes wide. Luckily, they all (except for Aizawa, no one knows if he actually smiles since he’s never… done it) chuckle at your reaction. “Don’t worry, they can censor it in post-production,” Midnight says as she leans back in her chair. “I see you brought your own guitar, too! how wonderful! I can’t wait to hear what you’ll be singing for us!” Nori says, still smiling at you, and you feel your nerves slip away. Even though they’re literally legends, they’re actually nice. Wild.

“Speaking of, darling, what will you be singing for us?” Midnight asks and you bite your lip. “Well, actually I have an original that I wrote,” you say, and their interests are visibly all piqued by that. “What’s it called?”

“Seventeen.”

“Alright! Whenever you’re ready!”

You give them a small smile before beginning to strum your instrument, quickly changing between chords. You had a longer version to this song, but you were supposed to cut down the song you were auditioning with to a smaller portion. This was the original poem that you wrote and transformed into a song, so you decided to turn that into your audition. Maybe if you get through, you’ll be able to perform the full song.

“I got these beliefs that I think you wanna break,

Got something here to lose that I think you wanna take from me.

You tell me I’m asleep but I wanna be awake,

Got something here to lose that I know you wanna take.

And he said age is just a number, just like any other,

We can do whatever, do whatever you want.

Girl becomes woman now, can’t tell a man to slow down,

He’ll just do whatever do whatever he wants.

Here he comes,

Like he just walked out of a dream

Doesn’t care you’re seventeen

Or maybe he forgot what it means?

Oh, but here he comes.

Here he comes.”

Your playing is flawless, and your voice is on its A-Game today. You finish up the song, finally looking at the judges who are all just... staring at you? Intensely? Is… that bad…? Suddenly, Midnight speaks. “Do you play piano, too?”

“Uh, yeah. Not as well as guitar, but I’m okay at it...”

“Give us another song.”

“What?!”

“(Y/n), no songwriter who writes something like that only has one song. You definitely have another one,” Aizawa says, and you shrug, scratching the back of your neck. “I may have another one...”

“Please, play it for us!” Nori insists, enthusiastically banging on the table like your drunk friend who sees your waiter bringing their food. Ah. There’s the Toshinori Yagi everyone knows and loves. “If you insist,” you say, nervous, but excited to have the opportunity to perform another one of your songs. “What’s this one called?” Aizawa asks as you hand your guitar to a crew member, making your way over to the piano. “Uh… it’s called The District Sleeps Alone Tonight.”

“Interesting name,” Midnight says, grinning at you. “I’m warning you my piano skills are rusty, so this may be really bad,” you tell them, earning a chuckle from Hawks, Nori, and Midnight before you start to play a second song. You play the opening, beginning to sing.

“Smeared black ink.

Your face is ashen, and I'm barely listening,

To last demands.

I'm staring at the asphalt wondering,

What's buried underneath.

Where I am?

Where I am.

I'll wear my badge.

A vinyl sticker with big block letters adherent to my chest.

Tells your new friends,

I am a visitor here,

I am not permanent.

And the only thing,

Keeping me dry is.

Where I am; in this gaudy apartment complex,

Explaining that I am just visiting.

And I am finally seeing,

Why I was the one worth leaving.

D.C. sleeps alone tonight.

D.C. sleeps alone tonight.

In this gaudy apartment complex,

Explaining that I am just visiting.

And I am finally seeing, why I was the one worth leaving.”

All of your songs are sad, but I mean. You’ve been through some shit. Of course, they’re going to be sad. You literally can’t think of the last time you wrote an actual happy love song. You’re always writing, but love is just a foreign concept to you at this point. At least the good parts of love. You were far too familiar with bad parts. You shorten this one as well, cutting it off smoothly. You didn’t play the piano half bad, which was a relief. You stand back up walking to where you were before taking your place at the piano, retrieving your guitar from the crew member. “Were those by chance both about this ex that you mentioned?” Hawks asks, and you nod. “Yeah, he gave me… quite the material to write about,” you say with a small laugh. Before you know it, Midnight has engulfed you in a hug. Damn, she smells good. Since you’re holding your guitar, you only use one arm to hug her back. How did you end up in this position? You never thought the Midnight would ever hug you. Honestly, one of the best feelings. Ever. She smiles at you, squeezing your shoulder before going back to her seat. Oh yeah, I guess both of those songs did kind of confirm some… not so good things about him. Well that makes sense now. “Well, chickadee, I don’t think I can actually judge you. You’re a better songwriter than I’ll ever be.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“It hurts me to say it, it really does. But I’m being one hundred percent genuine with you.”

“Did you know you’re actually the first person to ever get his prideful ass to admit that he wasn’t as good at something as someone?” Aizawa says, and you just give a small smile. First, they ask you to sing another one of your original songs, and then Keigo Takami tells you you’re a better songwriter than him? This is all way too much. You expected them to like, maybe say your songs were okay but here you are, receiving extreme compliments. From your literal idols. You’re fine. It’s fine. This is cool. This is normal. “Seriously, though. Your song writing skills are on par with all of ours, if not even better. And your voice is one of the best we’ve heard in the competition so far. Top two material if you ask me. Good job,” Aizawa continues. Okay. No longer fine. This is not cool. This is crazy.

“Also, rusty on the piano my ass!” Midnight exclaims and you laugh. “I think I speak for all of us when I say yes. Anyone want to lie and say I’m wrong?” Nori asks, and your eyes go wide when none of them say anything. You even got Aizawa’s yes? He’s literally there to keep people in check, he barely ever says yes to anyone. And he was saying yes to you? Hawks holds out the ticket with a smirk, and you just stare at it with wide eyes. “Wait… really?”

“Yes, really! Now take it! We’ll see you in Hell Week,” Midnight says, and you walk forward, grabbing the ticket and thanking all of them. As you leave you hear murmurs from them, but only hushed words like “unbelievable” and “amazing.” You walk out of the doors, still shocked, honestly. The first person you see is Mina, and you slowly hold up your ticket. She literally, literally tackles you in a hug. She’s also kinda screaming. And Present Mic joins her. This is what purgatory is, isn’t it?

[theshopkeepofremnant]

Genre: Sci-fi/cyberpunk AU

Length: 33k

Rating: Teen

Summary:

What would you do for family?

For Yang, the answer is everything. Anything. Pulling jobs on the dangerous streets of the sprawling metropolis of Vale with her do-gooder sister at her side, she has plenty of opportunities to prove it. But she's ready to get out. To take Ruby and leave the city behind. When the opportunity of a lifetime comes their way, Yang is all in, despite Ruby's protests. One last job, then they'll be set for life. Free. Simple.

But when you let yourself get tangled in the glossy and duplicitous games of the rich and powerful, things are rarely simple, and they're never free.

(Chapter 1 below the cut)

“I still don’t understand why we’re going to work with some corporate princess,” Ruby muttered.

Yang scanned the busy street through her aviators. Not that she needed them.  Sunlight hadn’t found its way down through the towering buildings crowded around the dirty streets of Vale in decades. Maybe in the city center, depending on the day. But not in their neighborhood. At most, the dark glass protected her from the occasional glint off an oil slick left behind by one of the rust buckets parked on the curb. She liked how they looked, though. Cars hummed by, still no sign of their client. “It’s not complicated, Ruby. We need a real job.” When her little sister looked ready to protest, she clarified, “That pays real money.”

Ruby pouted. She may have long since stopped being a child, but even at twenty-two (nearly middle-aged for someone raised by the streets of Vale), Yang still thought of her as her kid sister. Her naive, do-gooder attitude didn’t help any.

“What about that shopkeeper last week? That was a real job,” she argued.

“He paid us in canned beans and ammunition.”

“Both of which we sorely needed,” Ruby remarked, her grin only slightly embarrassed. “Besides, he really needed someone to help him. We did a good thing.”

“Good things don’t pay bills,” Yang said. She tried not to think about the angry notices she’d received from their apartment complex. She failed. One more, and she and Ruby would be out on the street. Her worry was interrupted by a sleek limo gliding up to the curb. Car like that couldn’t idle long on a street like this. Like as not to find itself on blocks and missing everything but the frame. Maybe even that.

“There’s our ride,” she said, taking off her shades and slipping them into a pocket in her bomber jacket. The move was practiced but looked nonchalant. Cool. Shiny. She hoped. “Try to act professional.”

Ruby grumbled but kept it to herself as a stout man sprang from the driver’s seat and raced around to open the rear passenger door. “Ladies,” he said, his voice oddly respectful. “If you would?”

Yang elbowed Ruby as she snickered at the formal address, thanking the man and sliding into the dimly light interior. She couldn’t help but notice the feel of the glossy seat, and she ran her golden hand across the material as she settled in. Text popped up on her HUD: genuine leather. She fought the urge to whistle as Ruby plopped down beside her and the door shut with a solid thunk. Her eyes quickly adjusted, revealing the prim and perfectly still woman seated across from her.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” the woman said, her diction as crisp as the lines on her expensive-looking blazer. “I’m…”

“Weiss Schnee,” Yang filled in. “We’re not amateurs.” She looked the woman up and down again. From the famously white hair to the feint scar slashed across one of her two icy-blue eyes, she was unmistakable. Even if their Uncle Qrow hadn’t tipped them off on their supposed mystery client (“Hey, I’m the best fixer in Vale, you think I’d send you in without doing some digging?”), a blind person could identify those ringing tones from Weiss’s singing days.

“Fine, you know who I am,” Weiss huffed, leaning her head back and looking down her perfect nose at them. “Sadly, I can’t say the same. I was only told that you’re the best at what you do. I hope I was not led astray.”

“I’m Yang. This is Ruby. If a job needs doing, we do it. Period.” She leaned back, doing her best to match the haughty pose of their client. It almost worked.

“So it’s just the two of you?” Weiss asked, looking doubtful. And more than a little disappointed.

“Not exactly,” came a robotic voice.

Weiss snapped her head around, her eyes landing on a small pin on Ruby’s collar. Yang realized she must have high-grade optical implants to zero in on the speaker so quickly. Only the best for the Schnee heiress. “I don’t appreciate eavesdroppers.”

Ruby held up her hands, trying to placate the frosty woman. “That’s our netrunner.”

Weiss nodded, almost as if she’d expected the response. Hoped for it. Yang didn’t like the strange light in her eyes as she spoke. “The Winter Maiden, if I’m not mistaken? Best crafter and cracker of ICE on the net. Or so the stories go.”

“Yeah…wait. How did you know her and not us?” Ruby asked.

Weiss’s lips pursed smugly. “I am also not an… amateur.” She let her words hang before sighing and dropping the act. “We tried to recruit her at SchneeCorp a handful of years ago, shortly before she seemingly vanished. It was believed she’d either burned out or finally hit it big enough to retire. I had my suspicions those rumors were false. You’re a hard woman to find, Ms. Polendina.”

“I…” Penny wasn’t often caught off guard, but hearing her real name spoken by a suit must have been a shock. She quickly recovered. “You may address me as Winter Maiden. We are not friends.”

“Concerned that someone else might be listening?” Weiss probed.

“Of course not. The first thing I did when my friends entered your vehicle was sweep it and then isolate it. No listening devices were present, and you will notice that none of your personal devices have signal at the moment.”

Weiss simply smiled. “I expect no less from the best. Though I must say, I thought someone of your singular talents would be running with a more…impressive crew.”

Yang bristled but tried to swallow her pride. She couldn’t make an enemy of this woman. Not yet. “Much as I’m honored to ride around in luxury and be insulted by the daughter of the richest man on the planet, is there a point to all of this?” Maybe she hadn’t swallowed hard enough.

Weiss’s lip curled slightly, an instinctive show of rage, but she tried to hide it. Yang made a note of her reaction as the woman fussed with her skirt and settled herself. “I need you for a job.”

“So I gathered,” Yang replied, almost biting her tongue to tamp down her sarcasm. “What kind of job?”

“The impossible kind. The kind that wouldn’t even have a prayer without someone of Ms. Po…of the Winter Maiden’s caliber.”

Yang slumped back. “So you don’t need us, just her.”

Weiss examined the bed of her fingernails. “Not exactly. This job has a rather large and not uncomplicated physical component as well. Though frankly, I was hoping that she might be working with more experienced associates.”

Before either Ruby or Yang could retort, Penny’s voice piped up. “They are my team. I trust them, and they, me. I will not work with anyone else.”

Weiss sighed, then settled back into her seat and regarded the women in front of her shrewdly. She gave a graceful shrug. “Fine, if that’s how it is, then let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, we’d hate if you missed your evening spa treatment,” Ruby sniped, glaring up at Yang after receiving a metallic elbow to the ribs.

“Don’t make me regret my decision,” Weiss snapped. “You’ll each find a shard in the armrest nearest you. Please slot it in so we can begin.”

Yang and Ruby looked at each other, then reached for the small silicon and copper sticks. Yang ran her ‘ganic hand up under her waves of golden hair, finding one of the open slots on the shaved side of her head and slotting it in. Ruby smirked at her and stuck out her tongue. She kept her dark hair reasonably short for quicker access to her slots and frequently gave Yang shit for her ungainly mass. But Yang never yielded; what was the point of being a badass if you couldn’t look great at the same time?

Besides, Penny had long hair, and Ruby never gave her grief about it. Though Yang suspected she knew why the console jockey might get special treatment. Not that she’d ever say anything. They’d figure it out. Eventually.

Yang’s mind snapped back to the present as her HUD was replaced by schematics, a wireframe of a vaguely familiar building that scrolled across her vision-

“Want to tell me why we’re looking at SchneeCorp’s Vale Headquarters?” Ruby asked.

Of course she had seen it first. Yang knew it wasn’t just because of those fancy eyes she was rocking, though they probably didn’t hurt. Ruby had an incredible visual memory. She probably had most of the sprawling skyline of Vale memorized.

“That’s where you’ll find our target,” Weiss replied as though she thought this was perfectly reasonable.

Ruby reached up and yanked the shard from her socket. “Well, this has been preem, but you can let us out now. Thanks for the ride.”

“You haven’t heard me out.”

“We’ve heard enough,” Ruby replied. “Right, Yang?”

“I mean…”

Ruby whipped her head around, and Yang told herself that the look of betrayal would fade. Ruby would forgive her, but they couldn’t just leave. “Yang, come on.”

Yang swallowed. “No, we’re going to hear her out.” Ruby went from shock to fury to fuming resignation quickly enough that anyone unfamiliar with her mercurial moods would’ve suffered serious whiplash, but this wasn’t Yang’s first day. She rode it out and turned back to their potential client. “Go on,” she said. It was an effort to ignore the smug look on the woman’s face as she did.

“As you so accurately surmised, the target is within SchneeCorp’s local headquarters.”

“Which means it may as well be on the fragging sun,” Ruby muttered.

“Which means,” Weiss cut in. “It’s good that you have someone with so much insider intel. Those schematics include security measures and all other pertinent information needed for the extraction.”

“How recently was this data acquired?” Penny, asking the useful questions, as always.

“Yesterday,” Weiss assured her.

Ruby sighed and slotted the shard again, sulking as her silver eyes unfocused and she went over the data. “Penny, did you get my upload?”

“Yes, but even with this data, I see no good way to get inside.”

Yang knew that being jacked in like Penny meant she was processing things much faster than the rest of them, but it was always disconcerting how quickly she came to conclusions over the wire. Still, it never paid to doubt her. She looked up at the maddeningly calm woman across from her. “Got anything else for us?”

“Naturally. Does this mean you’re in?”

“It means we’re considering it,” Ruby said before Yang could commit them.

Weiss cocked one perfectly trimmed eyebrow, sensing the discord but smart enough not to say anything. “Fine. My father is hosting an exclusive party next week in the ballroom that occupies the top floors of the building. Only the biggest SchneeCorp investors are invited. I can get us in. From there, we simply need to slip-”

“Hold on, us?” Ruby asked.

Yang couldn’t argue with her sister’s reaction. “Look, Ms. Schnee-“

“Weiss is fine.”

“Ok, Weiss,” Yang said, feeling more than a little weird talking to a suit like they were chums. “No offense, but we don’t bring clients with us on jobs.” It wasn’t entirely true, but telling her they didn’t bring amateurs with them on jobs likely wouldn’t have gone over well.

“If I don’t come, there is no job. End of discussion.”

Yang ignored the blatant look of I-told-you-so from Ruby and did her best to only groan on the inside. She reminded herself that all of these annoyances were just going to lead to a bigger payday. A payday they desperately needed. “Fine, you come. What are we stealing?”

“Liberating,” Weiss corrected. “It doesn’t rightly belong to my father, so it isn’t theft.”

This time Yang couldn’t hide her annoyance. “I doubt security will care about that distinction. What is it?”

Weiss looked ready to retort but decided to answer the question instead. “A particularly valuable prototype. That’s all you need to know.”

“Ok, but are we talking a prototype tank or a prototype chip?” Yang asked. “That kind of makes a difference.”

“It’s,” Weiss fumbled, just for a moment, but then she recovered her composure. “It’s the size of a shoebox.”

“Why would you put a shoe in a box?” Ruby asked.

“No, you put a pair of…” Weiss looked between the equally mystified sisters. “Shoes come in boxes.”

Yang looked down at the boots that had been 3D printed for her at a dirty kiosk in a dirtier alley. “Clearly, we shop at different stores,” she deadpanned.

Weiss held up her hands, less than shoulder-width apart. “A box, this big. A shoebox.”

“If you say so,” Ruby said with a shrug. “How heavy? Feel free to give the weight in gold bars. You know, something relatable.”

“Assuming your head is full of lead,” Weiss snapped. “Lighter than that.”

Yang fought the urge to laugh at the frustration flushing Weiss’s face. Time to get back on track. “Ok, ok. Why is this ‘shoebox’ so important?”

”If this piece of tech works out, SchneeCorp will no longer just be the biggest company on the planet; it will become untouchable.”

Ruby shook her head. “Why would you want to sabotage your own company?”

Weiss bristled before going back to examining her expensive manicure. “It’s not my company. It’s my father’s.”

But Ruby wasn’t satisfied. “Still, why-?”

“Let’s just say he and I don’t always see eye to eye,” Weiss said. “Besides, I…I was recently disinherited.”

“Sounds like we’re getting in the middle of family drama,” Ruby snarked.

Weiss narrowed her eyes, but there was something sad there. Her voice seemingly didn’t get the memo, however. It was all ice. “Will you take the job or not?”

--

“I don’t like it,” Ruby muttered as they waved their way past the familiar bouncer. They were regulars at the Nest, the bar their uncle ran mostly as a convenience to host his real business.

“Yeah, Rubes, you’ve said like a million times,” Yang replied, striding through the mid-afternoon crowd toward the back. “But you know what I don’t like? Living on the street and scraping food out of dumpsters. Which is what we’ll be doing without this job.” Ruby grumbled. Like she had every time they'd circled this particular block. She let it drop when they approached their uncle’s table.

“Hey, my favorite nieces!” he called, waving a glass that Yang doubted was his first. She worried that his ever-present five o’clock shadow and disheveled hair were going from intentionally rakish to unkempt. But his drinking didn’t seem to be interfering with business. Yet.

Assuming this job didn’t go down in flames.

“We’re your only nieces, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby laughed, apparently oblivious to the reek of alcohol as she gave him a quick hug and flopped into the seat next to him.

Qrow chuckled and tussled her hair. “So you are. Did you meet with our illustrious client?”

Yang spun a chair around and straddled it, her arms crossed over the back. Ignored Ruby’s sour look. “Sure did,” she replied, searching his glazed eyes for the cunning intelligence that she hoped was still in there somewhere. “You sure this is on the level?”

“The money’s on the level,” he said as he took a long draw from his glass. “What else do you need to know?”

“It would be nice to know that we aren’t about to get flatlined helping some suit get back at daddy,” Ruby offered.

“What she means is,” Yang corrected, glaring at her innocently smiling kid sister. “We want to make sure this is done right, so we can collect our credits and walk away.”

Their uncle swirled his dwindling drink a few times, then raised it and rattled the ice. Moments later, a waitress placed a fresh glass in front of him. He thanked her. “Look,” he said, sampling the contents of his new cup. “I checked her out, asked around. I mean, she’s Weiss Schnee. It’s not like it’s hard to get info on her.”

“Did you know she got booted from the family?” Ruby asked.

Qrow nodded. “Of course, why else do you think I sent you two to talk to her? Sure, this is some corpo bullshit, no question, but she has real beef with her family. The job’s legit. Besides,” he added, smiling with his eyes over another gulp of the colorless liquid. “Her creds spend well enough. She paid my finder’s fee upfront, and I suspect her offer to you two was…generous.”

“It was,” Yang agreed.

“It has to be!” Ruby shot back. She turned to their uncle. “She wants us to break into,” she looked around, then lowered her voice. “SchneeCorp headquarters here in Vale.”

Qrow shrugged. “I know.”

“You know?” Ruby demanded.

“Hey, at least it’s not the main headquarters on Atlas station.”

“It may as well be!” Ruby retorted. “I don’t see how hijacking a shuttle and going to fucking space could be any more insane.”

“Calm down, kiddo,” Qrow said, a frown tugging at his lips. “It can’t be as bad as all that.” He turned to Yang, obviously looking for support. “What do you think, Firecracker?”

Yang had long since stopped correcting him when he used her childhood nickname. “It just feels…too big, you know? Don’t get me wrong, we need the creds, but why us?”

“She asked for the best, so I gave her the best.”

Yang shook her head. “Uncle Qrow, I know we’re family, and I appreciate the sentiment, but-“

“We’re not even close to the best,” Ruby supplied.

“Not with that attitude,” Qrow admonished playfully, but his grin faded under their twin glares. “Honestly? She asked for the crew with the best netrunner, and there’s only one I know personally that can claim that title.”

Ruby crossed her arms. “So she does just need Penny.”

“Look,” Qrow said, fishing for words of wisdom he didn’t have and settling on the truth instead. “The gig needs an all-star deck jockey and some competent bodies. You three fit the bill, and you need the money, so I gave you the nod. That’s all.”

Yang sighed, but none of what he said had come as a surprise. She knew where they stood in the pecking order, and she and Ruby both knew that Penny was way too good for them. “Good enough for me.” She looked over at her sister, still slouched in her seat with her eyes scanning the ground. No doubt memorizing the pattern of microscopic cracks in the aging tile.

Eventually, Ruby gave up pretending she didn’t notice Yang’s gaze and looked up, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever, I’ll do it. Penny?”

“I am in,” chirped Penny’s voice, the barest hint of excitement in her tone.

Qrow smiled and polished off the remainder of his drink. “Shiny. Now tell me how you intend to pull this off.”

--

“We’re being followed.”

Yang gritted her teeth to stop herself from swearing out loud. She had suspected they would be at some point, but it bothered her that she hadn’t spotted them. She supposed she should be grateful Ruby had. “How many?” she asked, pitching her voice low and not moving her lips.

“At least three,” Ruby replied, hawking a loogie and using it as an excuse to look over her shoulder. “About two blocks back,” she added.

“Fangs?”

“Probably. They’re definitely Faunus.”

“Well, I suppose we knew we’d be spotted when we crossed onto their turf.” Yang pushed forward, dragging them deeper into the Fang’s territory. She hadn’t had many pleasant interactions with the Faunus gang, but the same could be said of most gangs that had held sway in Vale. She had no specific beef with them, and she’d always gotten along as well with her Faunus neighbors as anyone else. It wasn’t their fault that their great grandparents had killed time messing around with their genes before passing them on. So now some of them sported extra ears or claws or whatever, who cares?

But Yang wasn’t naive. She knew that many did, in fact, care. That was why most Faunus preferred to live in cloistered communities where they could protect each other from the assholes who saw them as less than human. It was why she and Ruby were receiving a lot of suspicious glares through mostly shut windows and doors.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the unwelcoming stares. “Maybe we should get out of here,” Ruby suggested lightly, trying and failing to play off her growing unease.

“We can’t,” Yang replied. “Uncle Qrow is right; we need this chick.”

“Why? The three of us have always managed in the past.”

“We need someone who can slip past a state of the art surveillance system. Unseen.”

“We can do that.”

Yang snorted. “Please, when have we ever done anything quietly?”

“What about the job for that guy? What’s-his-name…Port? No one even saw us.”

“Yeah, because Penny hacked the signal on their optical implants and literally blinded everyone.”

Ruby tried to look offended but only barely stifled a chuckle. “Ok, but how about that time down at the docks?”

“The time when you set off an entire crate of flash-bang grenades?”

Ruby grinned. “I mean, technically no one saw us that time either.”

Yang’s lip tugged upward. “Yeah, and I couldn’t hear for a week.”

"It wasn’t that bad. Oh!” Ruby exclaimed, seemingly unconcerned with their tail save for the furtive glances she stole when they turned the next corner. “How about the-“

“I swear if you’re about to claim the Oobleck job was anything but a disaster, I’m going to scream.”

“We got away clean!” Ruby protested.

“We set the building on fire.”

“The fire suppression system came on almost immediately. There was hardly any damage.” Ruby’s smile faltered under Yang’s glare. “Ok, maybe we could use someone a little more…discrete.” Yang rolled her eyes at the colossal understatement. “But how do we know she’ll even help?”

“If what Uncle Qrow said about her is true, she’ll help.”

“Assuming we even get a chance to talk to her,” Ruby muttered.

Yang looked around. “We still being followed?”

Ruby’s lips were tight as she replied, “Yup, one more just joined up.”

“Well, we may as well kick this party off.” Yang flipped her optics over to infrared. She only had lens implants, nothing as fancy as the wonders Ruby was sporting, but they did alright. At least she could tell that the next alley was deserted. “In there?” she said, raising her chin.

Ruby sighed. She’d never liked close-quarters fighting as much as Yang, but there was no time to set up a proper ambush, and numbers were not on their side. “Yeah, looks as good as we’re going to get.”

Yang nodded. “Let’s do it.”

--

“‘No Ruby, we don’t need weapons, we aren’t looking for trouble,’” Ruby mocked, grunting as she dodged a massive fist that passed right through where her head had been a moment before. “Great idea, Yang!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Yang replied, catching the arm of her own attacker and twisting it painfully behind his back until he stopped struggling. “Tell your buddy to stop attacking, or I break your arm in at least seven places,” she added to her captive.

He sneered up at her until she gave his arm a gentle tug. Once he stopped crying out in pain, he quickly begged the other man to stop. Their two friends were already unconscious on the ground, caught unawares by the pair of sisters after entering the alley.

“Look,” Yang said. “We aren’t here for a fight.”

“Tell that to those two,” the man struggling against her grip growled.

“Oh, so you weren’t about to jump us?”

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Yang snapped. “We didn’t want any trouble.”

“Then what are you doing in Little Menagerie?”

“Looking for someone,” Ruby supplied, stepping away from her own assailant, just in case he got any ideas.

“Who?”

The sisters looked at each other. Discretion really wasn’t their strong suit, so Yang decided not to overthink things. “Blake Belladonna.”

The man’s face darkened. “Why?”

“We just want to offer her a job. That’s all.”

“And what if I’m not interested?”

The alley went deathly silent. The woman’s voice sounded so close, but there was no one else there. Yang flipped her vision to infrared, saw nothing, flipped it back, and found the same. She watched as Ruby as searched as many spectrums as she could. She shrugged.

Yang shoved the man away from her and raised her empty hands. “So that’s why they call you ‘the Shadow,’” she remarked.

“They call me many things. What do you want?”

“We just want to talk.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” the voice replied as the air in front of Yang rippled and bent until a dark figure stood before her in a mimetic suit. Yang had never seen one in real life, but it lived up to the hype. One gloved hand reached up and pulled off the hood and mask obscuring her face, revealing a set of golden eyes beneath a splash of midnight hair and two pointed, cat-like ears.

Yang gaped. She’d been given a physical description, but her uncle had failed to mention that the woman was breathtakingly beautiful. A second look at the skin-tight suit showed she had the lithe body of a dancer or a gymnast to go with her perfect face. Yang was mortified as she felt blood rush to her cheeks as well as other, mercifully less visible places.

The woman, Blake, shrugged. “You want to talk? Talk.”

“I, uh, right,” Yang stammered, then forced her wandering mind back on track. “We want to hire you for a job.”

“I told you, I’m not interested,” Blake replied coldly before addressing the man at Yang’s feet, “Yuma, get those idiots off the concrete and go home. We’re done here.”

A thought occurred to Yang. “If you’re not interested, why are you here?”

Blake’s lip curled. “A couple of outsiders wandered into my turf. I came to ensure you didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh please, you could have let these guys chase us off. Admit it, you’re curious.” Yang hoped that her charm hadn’t strayed from playful into desperate, but it was hard to stay focused with those golden eyes boring into her soul.

Blake snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, but there was no venom in it.

Ruby, however, was done watching her sister flirt. “Yang, she said she’s not interested.” Yang was about to argue, but she saw that sly expression Ruby often got when she was being clever, so she decided to let her take her shot. “Besides, we don’t need her.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed as she turned toward Ruby. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Ruby asserted. “We came here thinking you were something special, but you just have a fancy suit.” She shrugged and looked at Yang. “Come on, we can just buy one. That's cheaper than splitting the take with someone else.”

Yang’s instinct was to come up with some excuse to keep this shadowy beauty around, but she wasn’t going to mess up Ruby’s play. Not that she had time to anyway. Blake arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you think? That I just put on this suit and it does the work for me?”

“You telling me it’s not?” Ruby shot back.

“Aside from the fact that it was handmade for me specifically, there’s more to it than simply turning it on,” Blake explained.

Ruby crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“You’re right, and we don’t have to tell you why we came. Come on, Yang.”

Yang fought a laugh as she followed her sister back toward the mouth of the alley. She was only a few strides from the exit when she was stopped short by an invisible hand in the middle of her chest. She looked down, barely able to discern a ripple in the air in front of her where she assumed Blake’s arm was. The fingers on her collar bone retreated slowly, almost a caress. Yang's breath caught, but not before she inhaled a trace of something wild and dark; the scent of moonlight cascading through clouds on a rain-soaked night. Of freedom and open spaces that Yang had never seen but could suddenly feel in her bones.

Blake chuckled and shimmered back to reality and pulled off her hood. “As I was saying. Anyone can wear a mimetic suit, but not everyone can move without making a sound, without rippling the air, or otherwise looking like a big, dumb, person-shaped distortion of light. I saw you searching for me. How many spectrums did you go through?”

Yang shook her head. “I only have visible and infrared.”

Blake made a face. “Child’s play.” She turned to Ruby. “How about you?”

“Those two, plus microwave, and UV for passive. I didn’t get around to active scanning.”

“And?” Blake challenged.

“Nothing,” Ruby admitted. “I suppose we could use you.”

Blake smirked. “You undoubtedly could.” Then she seemed to remember herself. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not interested.” In a flash, the hood and face-covering were back in place, and she vanished.

But Yang knew she was still there, could feel it, and it was time to show her hand. “What if I told you that the job involved stealing from the Schnees?”

There was a long beat of silence. Yang began to worry that Blake had already ghosted. Then her face reappeared, hanging in midair above seemingly empty air. Her mouth was drawn in a frown, but excitement danced in her eyes. “The Schnees?” she prompted.

“That’s right,” Yang said. “We’re going to rip off their next big prototype. From right under their noses. It will probably cost them billions.”

Blake’s eyes positively shone at that. “Well,” she said, her body shimmering back into view as she held out her hand. “Why didn’t you say so? When do we start?”

Yang took her hand, the fluttering in her stomach driven by more than excitement over a plan coming together. But she wasn’t going to think about that. Instead, she simply replied, “Now.”

--

Ruby marveled as Blake demonstrated her suit’s capability on their walk through narrow streets to the address Weiss had given them.

“See?” Blake said, going from completely invisible to a bouncing jumble of distorted light and back again before emerging back to full visibility. “It’s not just about the suit. The wearer has to know how to move. Otherwise, it’s nearly useless.”

Yang shook her head, pretending not to watch the display as she tried to focus on their surroundings. She still wasn’t completely sure about their client, and the last thing she wanted to do was march them into an ambush.

“Too bad it’s a bit of an odd fashion statement,” Ruby commented, indicating the strangely patterned black on black. Yang resisted the urge to voice her thoughts on the skintight outfit. Instead, she turned her head and took the chance to clear her throat.

Blake looked down at herself and shrugged, then reached up into a small pouch on her back and pulled out jeans and a long white jacket that really didn’t seem like they could have been hidden away in so small a space. She somehow stepped into the pants without breaking stride, then twirled the jacket around her shoulders. All of it effortless, fluid, and so cool that Yang nearly had a coughing fit as she tried not to visibly drool. Blake smirked up at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, shiny,” Yang wheezed. She stopped. “We’re here, by the way.”

The trio looked at the rusted steel door before them. The building was one of countless nondescript towers on the block, all packed in so tightly it was impossible to know where one ended and another began. The address was right, though, so Yang reached up and knocked twice, hard, wincing at the loud clang of metal on metal.

They stood in silence, waiting. As the seconds dragged on, Yang began to feel more and more like an idiot. Just as she was preparing a line to act like she’d planned on getting stood up, an unseen speaker squeaked to life, carrying the cold tones of their client. “That’s not the Winter Maiden. Who is she?”

Yang looked around but saw no obvious place for a microphone, so she addressed the door. “We needed an extra hand to pull off our plan. I’ll personally vouch for her.”

There was a long pause before Weiss replied, “Fine.” Then the door unlocked with an audible click.

Yang swung it wide and waved the others through, stopping Ruby as she passed. “Is Penny wired in?”

Ruby shook her head. “No,” she replied, “She’s going to join us.”

“In meat space, seriously?”

Ruby shrugged and stepped through the door. “Yeah, she said this is too important not to be here in the flesh.”

“Huh, crazy. She almost here?”

Ruby blinked, her eyes unfocusing as she accessed her HUD and sent a message. A moment later, she responded. “Yeah, she’s a minute or two out.”

“Preem,” Yang said, looking up and down the street.

Ruby grabbed her arm, pulling her inside. “She’ll be here,” she insisted. “Come on. Where’s Blake?”

The pair wandered into the darkened building, the remains of what used to be some sort of office but had long since fallen into disrepair. Muffled voices were coming from a room in the back, one of which seemed increasingly frantic. It occurred to Yang where Blake may have gone. She took off at a sprint through the empty hallways, making her way toward the sounds of distress, Ruby hot on her heels.

“Blake, what the fuck?” Yang cried. Their newest recruit was holding a gleaming, black sword. Its razor-sharp tip rested lightly against the throat of a very still, very wide-eyed Weiss.

“You said we were stealing from the Schnees, not working with them,” Blake hissed.

Yang faltered. She had considered telling Blake the whole truth but figured it would be easier to explain after she was in. She apparently hadn’t thought that line of attack through all the way. “Yes, we’re working for Weiss Schnee.”

“For?!” Blake demanded.

Yang cursed herself but pressed on, “But she’s the one who wants to steal the tech from SchneeCorp.”

“So I’m just helping one Schnee in a powerplay against another? No, fuck that, and fuck all of you. I thought maybe you two were on the level, not just a pair of grimmgirls working for corporate scum. For a fucking Schnee.”

The accusation hit Yang like a slap in the face. She’d been called a lot of things in her life. Many of them unpleasant. But to be equated to those soulless killing machines that traded flesh for chrome until they were barely human, anything to get better at zeroing targets, all for a quick buck… She looked down at her arm, gold and black and nothing like the one it had replaced. Then she looked at Ruby, at her wide and shining silver eyes. Those inhuman eyes. Those expensive eyes. She felt her blood begin to race, to boil, but she forced it down. She couldn’t let this fall apart. Not now. Not when they were so close to getting out.

She took a breath. “Look, I get why you don’t like the Schnees-”

“You don’t know the first thing about why I hate the Schnees!” Blake cried. “The things they’ve done to my people.”

“I know, you’re right. I don’t. Just like you don’t know my life story. And none of us know the full version of Weiss’s. But we’re all on the same side here.”

“Stop.” Blake leaned forward but didn’t pierce the porcelain skin under her sword. “The best you can hope for now is to convince me not to kill her where she stands. Go ahead, give me one good reason.”

Yang’s mind raced, but Weiss had apparently had plenty of time to think. “Because I want to destroy Jacques Schnee and everything he’s built,” she said, her voice tight as her throat moved against the blade.

Blake narrowed her eyes, and for a desperate moment, Yang worried that Weiss’s gambit might fail. Then the sword lowered with a snap. Blake pressed a hidden button on the hilt, and Yang watched in fascination as the blade collapsed into it. Blake stashed the weapon back in her small bag. “Either you’re the best liar I’ve ever met,” she remarked. “Or you have a truly screwed up home life.”

“You have no idea,” Weiss murmured, massaging the angry red spot on her throat. “Are you in?”

Blake curled her lip and crossed her arms. “I’ll stay to hear the plan. No promises.”

Weiss blew a breath out through her nose but didn’t press the point. Instead, she turned to Yang and Ruby. “Is there anyone else you’d like to bring in who might want to kill me? Or is it just her?”

Yang grimaced as she and Ruby finished entering the room. “Just her,” she assured her. “Penny’s generally not much of a killer.” Weiss glared at her, her eyes flicking over her shoulder when they heard the outer door open and close. “We’re back here!” Yang called. Ruby would have let her know if it was anyone but Penny.

Their favorite runner ambled in a moment later, all red hair and freckles and green eyes. “Salutations,” she said, looking around the ramshackle room. She didn’t seem to notice that her chipper greeting was completely at odds with the strained air in the room, but that was Penny for you. Yang gave her a wave, impressed that she had at least remembered to change out of her cryo suit before coming over. Truly jacking into the net was dangerous business, with heatstroke from neural overload one of many potential causes of death for the unwary. Longtime runners, like Penny, didn’t need anything too extreme, like an ice bath. But she still spent most of her waking hours in a suit meant to regulate her body temperature. More than once, after a job, she’d forgotten to change out of it before she came out to join them for drinks. At least she always took their ribbing in good humor.

“Hello, Ms… Winter Maiden,” Weiss corrected. She looked relieved that Penny was there, and Yang was reminded again why their team had really been selected. A job’s a job, she told herself.

“Ms. Schnee,” Penny responded, sidling up next to Ruby, of course. It was only then that she seemed to notice the extra body in the room. “I do not believe we have met,” she pointed out.

“Blake,” the Faunus offered, looking Penny up and down.

“My name is Penny. I am the netrunner for this crew. As this is a job, I prefer to be referred to as Winter Maiden.”

“Noted,” Blake responded, still giving Penny an odd look.

“You expect me to be heavily chipped?”

“I…yes,” Blake admitted. “Every netrunner I’ve ever met has been heavily modified.”

Ruby laughed and looked at Penny fondly. “She doesn’t need anything more than a basic link. Penny’s got everything she needs in that big brain of hers.” She reached up and patted her friend’s head.

Penny rolled her eyes. “I have told you, my brain is a completely normal size, it simply-“

“This is fascinating, really, but I’m on something of a tight schedule,” Weiss cut in. Ruby made a face but held her tongue when Penny squeezed her hand. Blake still looked less than thrilled, but she wasn’t pointing a sword at anyone, so that was a win. Finally, Weiss’s eyes landed on Yang. “Well, do you have a plan?”

Yang smirked and rolled her eyes. Working with this suit was going to be such a pleasure, start to finish. She tried to visualize a stack of credits as high as the stiff woman before her. It helped, a little. “As a matter of fact,” she said, smiling broadly. “I do.”

[cherryfi]

Blame it on the Bokbunja

Requested: Anon asks:  haii!!! could you please make ateez san agent au? the concept is up to youuu thank youu

 Plot: The mission objective was simple - take Choi San down by any means necessary. What you didn't expect was how it was to get him alone. You also didn't expect him to be this endearing.

A/N: I got so much inspiration for this wow, I didn’t expect it to be so long, I hope you like it anon! I hope the rest of you like it too aha!

TW: Alcohol drinking, drugging, mentions of violence

Word count: 9462

The mission’s objective was short and simple: Eliminate Choi San– make his empire crumble from the top, down. It would be like cutting the head off a snake, the body wouldn’t be able to sustain itself.

What was not simple, however, would be to actually make that happen.

Choi San was not only one of the most dangerous men in the city, He controlled at least half of the country’s black market and most of its organised crime could be traced back to his syndicate, Ateez. San had inherited this legacy from his father, Jisung, who had ruled the mafia with an iron fist.

Choi Jisung had been an orphan who grew up on the streets and who, together with seven other ‘friends’ built themselves one of the most heavily controlled and untouchable gangs the country had seen. He was highly intelligent and had an impeccable eye for detail. Nothing got past him and no one was able to double-cross him without ending up dead.

Contrary to how he ran his gang, Jisung’s family was his sanctuary and he always pandered to their every need – they wanted for nothing. This could be seen by the countless evidence photos showing family holidays; where he doted on his wife and only son, San.

According to the evidence file, San had been trained from birth to take over the leadership position from his father. And along with the syndicate’s seven other sons they were taught the skills necessary for running a ruthless and successful gang.

Taking over the ‘family’, unfortunately, came earlier than was anticipated for a 16-year-old San when his parents were murdered by a group of upstarts hoping to take over their territory. Jisung had been betrayed by one of his soldiers (Lee Sungjoo, who was paid off for information about Jisung’s whereabouts), who was quickly ‘done away with’ by the other men in the syndeo.

The Lee family were offered a rare show of kindness by San and Sungjoo’s son, Taeyong, remained a close friend. Taeyong went on to run an equally dangerous gang NCT, although both groups deferred to each other.

San’s first order of business upon receiving his crown was to obliterate the would-be rivals, making sure that any other competition knew that he would not take kindly to any threat towards his territory or family. His reputation had quickly been set and in no time,  he was known across the country as being even more ruthless than his father had been.

Whether it was his training from a young age, the need to prove to his doubters that he was as good as his father, or being fuelled by pure revenge – no one could tell but, what they did know, was that Choi San was not a man to be messed with.

And even so – he was fiercely untouchable. Despite being able to hold his own in hand-to-hand combat and knowing his weaponry, San was never alone. The other members, having been friends since childhood were all protective of each other.

So, how were you supposed to take a man like that down?

It wasn’t going to be an easy feat and that’s why they’d called you in. You were a top operative but, you were only ever behind the scenes. Part of the ‘clean-up’ crew, your job was to go in after the field operatives had done their jobs and tie up any loose ends but, every field assassin that had been sent in after San had ended up dead.

It was time for a new strategy, and they hoped that sending in a fresh face with all new ideas and a whole different skill set would be what they needed. There was also a hope that it would flush out the mole that was sending San their mission information. After all, there was no way that he could foil all their plans without inside help.

How you fit into that, you weren’t sure. Technically, clean-up was less qualified than field crew, you were all combat trained, but clean-up didn’t use it as often nor did they go undercover as often but; somehow, they expected it to work.

It wasn’t working.

You’d gone over every possible point of entry into Ateez and none were viable – you’d eventually end up dead or discovered in all of them. They’d all been tried by other operatives and had failed.

Not that the corporation cared. They were putting pressure on you to succeed.

Thankfully, after 2 months of trying to find your way in, an opportunity dropped itself in your lap – as if by magic. And who were you to turn down a good opportunity?

What does a mafioso do when he’s not being a mafioso? He runs a ‘legitimate’ business.

And San was the silent owner of an exclusive bar: ‘The Noir Lounge’.

The Noir lounge was a swanky speak-easy that was a member’s only bar. People only knew about it ‘by word of mouth’ and so, it’s customers and clientele were often very important and high-class, according to the case file even the city mayor and a few city officials were members.

Although it was a bar, the lounge also had a selection of private rooms and a sex club. So, it was important that members remained unknown to the general public. Some of these men and women were married, after all.

It surprised you that they’d be advertising a position for a new bartender but, you weren’t about to let it pass you by.

You applied.

The application process was unique, it constituted of an extensive background check and multiple interviews but, that was to be expected.

None of those interviews had been with San.

It was a Wednesday morning when you got the call.

“Hello Ms Y/L/N? Your application to join the staff at the Noir lounge has been successful. Congratulations. Your start is immediate and so we will expect to see you tonight at 7pm before the bar opens to collect your uniform and go over housekeeping. Please bring with you comfortable, black, smart shoes. You’ve been sent an email with the address. I look forward to meeting you tonight. Enjoy the rest of your day.” That was it. The voice on the other end was soft-spoken but deep and masculine. He also didn’t give you his name.

He was highly professional and curt – giving you no opportunity to respond, you barely got out a ‘hi’ before he spoke.

But that didn’t matter because you got the job. A chill ran down your back both from excitement and terror.

Now it began. You would have to fit into the bar like any other employee – naïve to what was going on behind the scenes but, also interesting enough that you would somehow be allowed to enter the inner circle .

From the outside, the bar looked like any industrial building and you would never be able to suspect that it was teeming with activity underneath. If you didn’t have intel telling you where it was you would’ve gotten lost.

You arrived at 6:45 – 15 minutes before you were required to be there and buzzed on the door 3 times slowly, just as you’d been told to do. It opened and you were wordlessly led down into the lounge.

It was beautiful and crafted in a style that you would’ve expected of Choi San, classy, expensive but, simple.

“Ah Y/N. You’re early which is a good sign. I’m Park Seonghwa, I spoke to you on the phone, it’s good to finally meet you. I’ll be your manager while you’re working with us.” You took his outstretched hand and shook it firmly, smiling.

“Hi Mr Park, Thanks for the opportunity, I look forward to working here.” Of course, you knew who Park Seonghwa was.

On the surface he appeared to normal. Seonghwa was tall, handsome and friendly. It would be easy to fall for him but, he wasn’t a man to trifled with. Seonghwa was Ateez’s resident doctor, if any of the members of the syndicate were injured, they went to him to be fixed up but, that was only the half of it. If there was a poison, best believe that Seonghwa had experimented with it and he was often called in when Ateez needed someone silently ‘taken care off’.

“Ha, that sounds so formal, just call me Seonghwa. We’ll be spending enough time together working that I’ll get to know all about you. We’ll be best friends, just you watch. It’s better that we start off casually.”

‘I’ll get to know all about you.’- I certainly hope not.

You smile shyly – “Okay.”

“Seonghwa, stop flirting with the staff, even if they are gorgeous.” You almost let yourself swoon but remember who you’re talking to -Kim Hongjoong.

Seonghwa was low-key in his work and despite his extensive knowledge of poisons – he rarely got his hands dirty. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was covered in it.

Hongjoong was the ‘answers man’. You’d been disgusted almost to the point of physical sickness when you’d seen his case file. Hongjoong was the king of sadists and incredibly thorough. When Ateez needed answers and had particularly difficult adversaries, they sent them to Hongjoong. The things that man could do with a scouring pad and some hydrogen peroxide were terrifying and he took great pride in that.

But here he was, smiling at you with an almost innocent curiosity, no sign of the sick bastard that he really was.

“I’m Hongjoong. We just had a meeting here so the rest should be filing out soon and then you can open the bar. There’s another bartender working with you tonight but, it won’t be too busy. It’s never too busy on a Wednesday.” He smiled and shook your hand.

I wonder how many lives those hands have taken.

You try not to shudder at the thought.

Hongjoong was right – things were slow that night, which was good because it gave you he opportunity to get used to mixing complicated drinks and taking orders.

Your patrons ranged from well-known politicians to celebrities to other mafia members that were known to your organisation. But no San.

As a matter of fact, over the next 2 months, the only member you saw was Seonghwa and he was often distant.

The promise of casual conversations and time spent together was quickly forgotten and Seonghwa was business as usual. You only saw him at opening and closing time – he was always in a private room at the back of the club – probably with the other members but, they had their own bartender and so, you never saw any of them.

This didn’t bode well for you. It had been 4 months since you’d been given this mission and you were no closer to completion, the bosses weren’t happy to hear this.

Your work phone rang; and it sent a shudder down your spine – you knew you were in for it now.

“Status report?” Well hello to you too…

“No change. The target is yet to be seen. I’ve acquired new work but, no further advancements have been made.” You could hear the disapproving noises from the other line.

“This is unfavourable, we would have expected some status update from you other than a bartending job Y/N. Are you sure you’re the right person for this job?” Now, you were angry, first they leave you to take care of this alone and then they question your methods.

It was true that you were stumped as to your next move but, they didn’t know that. They had no place to criticise you, given how many operatives they’d already lost.

“Am I the right person? You tell me. Given the fact that I was threatened with forced resignation if I didn’t take this job, I can assure you that I wasn’t the one that made the decision to be here. The target is dangerous. I need to play the slow game. Rome wasn’t built in a day and given the amount of lives that have been lost trying to destroy them, I’d expect a little more support.” The line goes silent.

“We’ll call you for another status report in 3 months we expect progress.” And just like that, the line was dead. If you didn’t tread carefully – you would be too.

It was another month before anything happened. It was like you’d completed some probation period because suddenly, you were being told that you would be a personal bartender.

“Y/N. Just the girl I wanted to see.” Seonghwa’s wide smile greeted from the other side of the bar where you stood, restocking it. You turned to look at him.

“Hey Seonghwa, what’s up?” You returned the friendly smile.

“I have a new position for you. We’re having a separate event in one of the other private lounges and I figured you could use the experience of being a private bartender. It’s a little different to being behind the general bar; it’s more intimate and the people you’ll be serving will expect a lot more of you but, no pressure. I’ll be there if you need some guidance.” He leans on the table, his sleeves rolled up and you catch a little glimpse of a tattoo.

“Can I ask what the special event is?” You really have no clue what it could be.

“A birthday, that’s all I’ll tell you now. Don’t look so scared, you’ll be fine.” He reaches across the bar and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

You’re scared for another reason. The realisation hits you like a bucket of ice water as your mind runs through all their files.

It was San’s birthday.

You were finally going to meet San and for some reason, it felt too soon.

They were different to how you’d expected them to be, their case files and photos had not prepared you for how normal they appeared. They were friendly and jovial.

Even Jongho, who was known to be quite cold was actually friendly, if not a little awkward.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your thoughts became completely scattered as you came face to face with your target.

He smirked at you and laughed a little your shock, his dimples on full display.

“Uh, sorry, I was spaced-out. What can I get you?” Play dumb Y/N – you’re not supposed to know this man.

“Yeah, I could tell, it’s not busy in here so I guess you’ve got a lot of time on your hands. I’ll have a French 75.” You balk. A what?!

“Let me guess, you’ve never made one of those? It’s not a regular one to get ordered despite it being a classic. Get a champagne flute.” You do as order and automatically go to put a cube of ice.

“No, no ice. It’s served straight-up. Pour 2oz Champagne, ½ oz of lemon juice, 1 oz gin – the Santamania is the best for this one and normally it’s 2 dashes sugar syrup but, I’ve got a sweet-tooth so give me 4. Rim the glass with some sugar and you’ve got yourself a classic.” He finishes with a wink and you follow his direction, Finishing it off with a lemon slice.

You slide it across to him on a napkin and wait expectantly.

San is not the kind of man you want to disappoint.

I hope I make a good impression.

“That’s a good 75. You know it’s supposedly named after a WW1 gun. It was the Howitzer 75mm, the French and Americans used it all throughout the war. Apparently, the cocktail’s got a kick just like the gun. By the way, if it’s in a slim glass, like the flute, never put ice with it. Ruins the experience. A flute glass is used when you want to keep the texture of the drink,  you want it to keep the bubbles. That’s part of the experience.” His eyes glint boyishly; and you smile as he explains more information about the cocktails.

In another life you might have found yourself falling for a man like him, he was oddly cute.

“You know, it’s not ordered regularly but, it’s a classic cocktail, perfect for bringing in the new year or celebrating another one. I’m San by the way.” He smiles for real this time, dimples on full blast, and you can’t help but, smile back. He shakes your hand.

Damn, he was charming.

“I didn’t think I’d meet a cocktail nerd.” He barks out a laugh.

“You have to be when you run a bar.” You put on your most shocked face.

“You own this place?” He nods.

“It was mean wasn’t it? Not telling you that I’m the owner but, Seonghwa talks about you so much, I had to see what was so special about you.”

“Well, did you find what you were looking for?” You answer him, a little flirty, hoping that that would open him up to you.

He only laughs.

“I’m not sure yet but, we’ll see.”

Your next status report goes a lot better.

“Update Y/N.”

“I’m almost part of the inner circle. A rival gang offered me money to rat on them and I told my manager so, they had no excuse but to tell me what was going on. The members have been conducting business around me now so, it’s a sign of good things to come.” The line is silent again but, you’re not in fear of the response. They wanted progress, they got it.

“And what about the target?” You sigh.

“I can’t get him alone. None of the members will leave him alone, he’s always surrounded.” It was true be it Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, San was always with someone. If San was around, you could easily find Wooyoung somewhere nearby.

Besides the only times you’d been within killing distance of San was during the meetings, where you would serve drinks. You served drinks ,and they talked.  

“What’s your next plan of action?” You sigh again.

“The only thing I haven’t tried: overt flirting.”

“Okay but be careful.” The line went dead again.

You had to put your plan into action.

The only time you got to see San on his own was during select night when he would randomly enter the bar. He’d spend the whole by your bar, just taking in the scenery and occasionally talking to the patrons but, rarely did he speak to you.

To top it all off, Wooyoung or Mingi were always in earshot of you.

How am I going to pull this off?

Your mission’s completion was so close you could taste it. All you had to do now was make San want to get you alone and you’d have him but, you had to tread lightly. It was around this point in the mission that a lot of operatives had lost their lives – they got cocky or crumbled under the pressure of the corporation’s demands.

You wouldn’t end up like that.

Your chance came 2 months later.

“She was cute.” It was a Friday night, but it was at the start of service, so the bar was still quiet. A few of the bar’s members had already arrived; tired and weary from their work weeks (or from the debts they owed to San).

Like the city mayor. He was in the bar and had been downing straight vodka for the last half hour but, you knew why.

He’d just walked out of a meeting with San and Hongjoong. Hongjoong had a wild grin on his face and San was fuming. The mayor’s re-election had been an odd one. Odd because nobody expected him to win so, when he clinched it, eyebrows were raised but, no one said anything.

San had bought him the election and now he owed San.

You almost felt bad for him but, he deserved it and now wasn’t the time anyway – San was finally alone.

Well, he was, a pretty girl in a blue, velvet dress swayed up to him, taking the bar stool next to him. He made eye-contact with you and you quickly busied yourself; shining glasses. He paid her no mind.

He didn’t even respond to her flirtations. She eventually huffed and walked off.

“Yeah, she was. See that guy over there? That’s Son Hyun-woo. You don’t need to know about who he is but, that girl, is a gift from him. He’s trying to keep me sweet Y/N. I’m not interested. I’m not an easy man to buy.” His stare is intense, and you find yourself struggling to look away.

He breaks out into a slow smile.

“What time are you working tomorrow Y/N?” You don’t really know where he’s going with this.

“I’m in at 7 – same time as always.” You shrug, keeping your tone light and San looks around thoughtfully.

“You’re a good bartender but, I want you to learn some of the more unique drinks. Come in at 5. Don’t worry it’ll be paid. I’m giving you a one on one cocktail class.” He flashes his dimples at you, and you agree.

Time  to put your plan in action.

You head into the bar at 5 to find San already there.

“Y/N! You ready for your masterclass?” He clasps his hands together and rolls up his sleeves, you sit across from him – curious about the array of glasses and alcohols.

One thing was clear – San didn’t respond well to obvious flirtations so; your plan would need tweaking. Maybe you could charm him with your intelligence?

“Get behind here Y/N. You can’t make drinks from that side.”

“Alright. I’m here.” He smiles at you again.

“The first one we’re going to make is a clover club. This one predates the prohibition era in America. It was popular in Philadelphia; where it was created. It’s a classy, aromatic drink; reportedly drunk by literary experts and high-class men. That’s why it’s served in a cocktail or martini glass – so you can take in the aroma before you sip it.” You watch him expertly mix the drink.

“ ½ oz Gin, ¾ oz lemon juice, ¼ oz raspberry syrup or grenadine and one egg white. We make it thick by shaking the ingredients up in a shaker with ice but, serve it dry. Rim the glass with sugar and some frozen raspberries. Go on try it.” He nods encouragingly and you take a sip, he pours himself a glass as well and you look at him curiously.

“What? Shouldn’t I be able to savour the fruits of my labour?” You roll your eyes and he winks at you.

He’s right – you smell the gin and the raspberry syrup. It’s sweet and tart and surprisingly its thickness doesn’t take away from its enjoyability.

He takes you through other cocktails, making you try each one: La Paloma, the Penicillin, The Martinez, the Corpse reviver – you try them all and eventually you’re a little tipsy. He seems completely unaffected by the alcohol.

Bad move.

San looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I made this one myself. Have you ever heard of Bokbunja?” You shake your head, no, and try to steady yourself; giggling when San stands close to you from behind, whispering in your ear.

“It’s a wine that we make from Korean Blackberries. It’s made in the same way as wine but, it has a higher alcohol content. Its acidity makes it perfect for seafood.” You sigh when he wraps his arms around your waist, his breath fans across your ear and jaw. It smells like the last cocktail.

“It’s also perfect with fresh mint, I like to add it with sour mix and elderflower as well. You know why it’s so popular in Korea? Apparently, it’s an aphrodisiac. I don’t know about that but, I know it makes you quite hot under the collar. If you plan on getting fucked later in the night – Bokbunja is the way to go. Now that I think about it, maybe it is an aphrodisiac. Try it and tell me.” San’s lips ghost across the shell of your ear and he pulls away to guide your hands.

You haven’t even sipped it yet and you’re already hot under the collar.

“Take a sip. Do you like that Y/N? Does it make you feel hot?” You moan quietly.

You finally come to your senses when you feel his lips on your neck.

This wasn’t part of the plan – you were supposed to seduce him not the other way around.

“San, I don’t think this is a good idea but, thank you for the lesson.” You pull away from him and he only laughs. You put your hands on his chest. His grey, silk shirt feels good under your palms.

He obviously has expensive taste.

“Maybe you’re right but, you can’t say you don’t want it, want me.” He’s right and suddenly, you don’t think you can carry out the rest of your mission. If you keep feeling this way, you might end up compromised.

You almost fell under his spell and if you didn’t get a grip soon, you’d fail your mission.

Failure wasn’t an option.

But San didn’t make it easy.

Somehow, he’d only gotten worse. Before, you couldn’t get him alone but now? You couldn’t keep him away. Every time you came to work San was there.

He was sweet, he was kind, he was flirtatious.

And those damn dimples.

“Status report, Y/N.” God, where do I begin?

“In the last month, things have advanced a lot. San, I mean the target and I have spent more time together.” There is a pleased sound on the other line.

“This is good. You should complete your mission soon then I assume?” You cringe.

“There is a slight problem – the target has been pushing his sexual advances heavily. I fear I won’t be able to complete my mission without giving in to them.” There’s a huff on the line and you sigh.

“Do you know what ‘by any means necessary’ means, Y/N? We gave you a mission to complete. If that means giving into the target, then do it. Don’t be shy now – these things are often necessary and expected of our field operatives. Make yourself pretty, visit a spa if you must. But, your mission must be completed within the next 2 days or we’re pulling the plug on it and you.”

“2 days?! How am I supposed to do this in 2 days?” You’re beside yourself in anger and bewilderment.

“By any means necessary, Y/N.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“We don’t make threats, it’s a warning. Y/N if he wants you then it should be easy to strike him off. We expect you to deliver in 2 days – we will be in touch.” The line goes dead as your heart drops to your feet.

You have no choice, but to do as told.

As usual, your shift doesn’t start until 7 so, you spend your day at the spa.

You get everything, from a full body wax to a shiatzu, to a manicure – all on the corporation’s dime but, none of the treatments are enough to ease your nerves.

You’d expect that after a day of hot stone massages and saunas, you’d expect all your kinks and sore muscles to be worked out but, instead you feel like a taut rubber band; ready to snap.

It’s now or never.

You wear a new set of lingerie under your uniform for later that night. It’s lacy and rubs against your skin airily and a little rough; the colour complements your skin perfectly. It should make you feel sexy but, you feel filthy instead.

You feel like a whore.

Your hands shake as you place the gun under your clothes and it’s never felt heavier. When you get to work you put it in your bag and in your locker instead, the feeling of the metal on your body making you sick.

As if the universe wants to play a sick joke on you, all the members are unexpectedly at the bar. They’re finishing up on their meeting as you step in and they all greet you once you step behind the bar.

“How are you Y/N? You’re looking a little green.” Jongho studies you but, drops it quickly when you tell him that you’re just not feeling well.

As a matter of fact – all the members were studying you, aware that you weren’t your usual self but, San told them all to step off.

“You’re so used to people acting suspicious that you’ll give this poor girl the 3rd degree? She’s just a little unwell, right Y/N? I think something’s going around, the other bartender called in sick today.” You can only nod, scared that your voice will betray you.

“You know what’s good for that gin and tonic. Here drink up.” He makes you a single with ice and you down it quickly, trying to cover how much your hands shake.

Can you really kill Choi San?

The answer is no, no you can’t.

Your shift goes by uneventfully and you leave work, disappointed.

The ball of tension in your stomach has grown tighter and you’re thankful for your day off but, it’s also your deadline day.

You only had one day to finish your job and you’d failed – you were screwed.

Yeosang calls you in the morning.

“Y/N? This is Yeosang, San would like to see you at his home this morning, it’s to discuss your job. A car will be by your home in 20 minutes.” You nearly collapsed; San wanted you to visit him?

“Yes, thank you. I’ll be ready.” You said your goodbyes and Yeosang hung up.

Were you getting fired?

You didn’t have time to ruminate on it – you quickly got ready for this impromptu meeting placing a small blade in your shoe.

It wasn’t what you would have planned but, you had to improvise.

 The car journey was deathly silent. Wooyoung picked you up and after a short hello, he didn’t say anything else.

He knows. He has to know.

Wooyoung kept stealing glances at you in his rear-view mirror but, wouldn’t say anything, his expression was blank. There must have been a reason why he’d been the one to pick you up, given how close he was to San.

“We’re here Y/N. Just head up to the front door, the butler’s waiting for you.” Wooyoung turns to you and holds your stare for longer than expected. It makes you squirm under his gaze, while he searches your eyes. Your body’s tense with anxiety.

After a moment of you sitting frozen, he laughs shortly.

“They’re waiting for you inside Y/N.” You get out quickly, taking your bag with you.

You’d decided to pack a gun in the end as well, hopeful that you’d be able to end it all quickly, it felt heavy in your bag.

There was a lot more to Choi San than you’d read in his case file. Behind all the bloodshed and cruelty of his world, was a charming man that just wanted to live a normal life.

Could you really blame him for how he ended up, given that this was the only life he’d ever known?

You shake your head at the thought. A criminal was a criminal, regardless of how they got there.

You had a mission to complete, you steeled yourself as you walked up to the front door. Wooyoung drove away once you were at the top of the stairs.

San’s home was completely different to the bar. Where the Noir Lounge was cool and chic with its black interior and classy upholstery, San’s house was light and airy: it felt like a home. Even from the outside, the large, gated state-home looked inviting.

With its lush gardens and gravel driveway, even the wall surrounding the home was unintimidating. You could imagine San entertaining friends and gusts in his home or relaxing in his front room. You could almost imagine yourself right there beside him.

As you walked to the front door, it opened.

They really are waiting for me.

“Miss Y/N, Mr Choi is waiting for you in the dining room. I will bring you to him now. My name is Jiwon, I’m the personal butler for this home and I hope you’ll be enjoying your stay with us.” He guides you through the door, walking you across the marble floor after asking you to remove your shoes and giving you a pair of house slippers.

Jiwon is efficient and he moves fast. As soon as your slippers are on, he guides  you to the dining room giving you little time to get look at the house (or recover your knife) but, what you took in was gorgeous. The doorway led to a large staircase on your right but, Jiwon led you down back, and as promised into the dining room.

It was beautiful.

You breathe deeply to ease your panic. It doesn’t work.

The dining room was an extension of the kitchen but made completely of glass, the sun rays shone into it and you could see another lush garden outside.  In the centre stood a large mahogany dining table big enough to sit at least 20 people. But for now, it only sat one.

San.

“Mr Choi, your guest is here.” He turned to look at you, a dazzling smile on his lips, his eyes practically disappearing. Your heart sped up just looking at him.

He was dressed casually today, in joggers and a t shirt but, that didn’t take away from how beautiful he was.

“Thank you Jiwon. Y/N. Come have a seat by me. Let’s talk.” He pats the seat next to him and you take it, a shaky breath leaving your body. You were going to be alone with him.

Silently, you hoped that Jiwon wouldn’t leave.

“I will be by shortly, with today’s brunch, we have a selection of light foods, such as smoked salmon and cream-cheese bruschetta and some Scandinavian pastries for you to try miss Y/N as well some palette cleansers.” Jiwon smiles at you directly and you return it. In the little time you’ve seen him, you liked him.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“The chef is incredible Y/N, you won’t be disappointed. Thank you Jiwon, I’m giving you the rest of the day off so please, go and enjoy yourself.” You panic a little.

You’re definitely going to be alone with Choi San. Your training kicks into overdrive as you try to casually look for all possible escape routes in case things went south.

It was now or never – you’d never have another opportunity to finish your mission.

“Now Y/N. I’m really sorry to call you here on your day off but, don’t worry, you’ll be paid. I wanted to discuss how things are going with your work. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

A proposition? Your ears perked up. What kind of proposition could he have for you and what did it have to do with the job you already had? Whatever it was, you were sure that it wouldn’t bode well for you. You’d have to put your mission on hold even further, much to your own chagrin and worse - you’d have to report it back to your superiors. Would they give you the benefit of the doubt? You could only hope that you’d be able to convince them that this new job would be a good opportunity to not only take Ateez down but, to take down their associates as well. As long as you spun this roadblock into an opportunity, you’d be able to come out of this on the other side but, whether or not it was unscathed was left to be seen. Up to this point, you hadn’t actually gotten involved in the seedy underbelly of the ateez syndicate - after all you were just a bartender and aside from San’s constant flirtations and being privy to some of the more intimate details of their work, you hadn’t really been involved in dealings. Hell, the members aside from Seonghwa and occasionally Hongjoong hadn’t had more than light conversation with you. This would be a perfect opportunity.

Your musings were quickly interrupted when Jiwon came back in, followed by the rest of the staff. There were 2 other staff members, one of whom you assumed was the chef: given his uniform. “Brunch is served. We have a selection of charcuterie and sandwiches as well as the palette cleansers, as promised. I recommend the gooseberries over the hazelnut coffee for this particular selection but, I’ve put both here as I know how you enjoy your caffeine, San. Please also enjoy, the selection of cakes.” The chef bows to signal his end and San dismisses the staff with a quick smile.

“ I’m sure that Jiwon’s told you, you have the weekend off. I’ll clear the table myself. Don’t worry. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I’ll see you all Monday morning. ”

Now you’re really scared.

The whole weekend? This must have been big. You watch them file out of the room, a sense of heavy dread filling you as they go. “Now that I have you all to myself; let’s talk business.” He rubs his hands together, smirking at you.

“As you know, you’ve been working with me for a little while and I’m impressed with your work. But,  I’m also quite fond of you Y/N; which makes me privy to a little bias, don’t you think?” He smiles a little and pours himself a cup of coffee. You watch the liquid fill the glass mug, too scared to meet his eyes. The liquid swirls disturbed by the movement and you watch as it settles.

San blows on the mug and takes a tentative sip. “I, uh guess.” you say dumbly. San Laughs. “That was rhetorical Y/N. Please eat something. I want you relaxed. You’re as stiff as a board.” You try to laugh it off when he reaches out to touch your shoulder, but the sound is weak and pathetic.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to brunch dates.” You could kill yourself. You cringe as soon as the words leave your mouth. Dear Lord, please let the ground open up and swallow me whole! Date?! Why did you say that Y/N?

“Is this a date Y/N?” He’s back to teasing you again, his tone mischievous and you know there’s no way he’s going to back down now.

You swallow your pride. “I uh, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You cringe and turn your attention to the Danish pastries, trying to distract yourself. “Because I would like that very much. Actually, you beat me to the punch. That’s what I wanted to talk about.” You look at him in shock. You lean forward curiously and San places a bottle of bokbunja on the table in between you.

You glance between it and him, a little perplexed.

“You remember what happened when you and I had this drink don’t you? And since then, we’ve been dancing around each other, playing a very dangerous game. I don’t like games Y/N, I like honesty. And honestly, I want you and I’m no psychic but, I know you want me too.” He leans into you and rests his hand under your chin: his thumb resting on your lips.

You don’t pull away, instead your lips part instinctively. Your eyes are still downcast, looking at the pastry in your hands. “Look at me, when I’m talking to you Y/N. Let me see those beautiful eyes. You can’t hide from me anymore.” You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are intense. They’re ablaze with passion and fondness.

He pulls away from you and your breath stutters. He was right. You wanted him but, a mission was a mission. It needed to be fulfilled.

Yet, somehow, you’re starting to think that it’s not all that important anymore.

“Now, as much as I want you, I also know how dangerous it is to mix business and pleasure. So, I have a decision for you to make. Would you like to be mine?” You gasp.

He remains unfazed and carries on. Your eyes bug out.

“If you say no that’s okay. We’ll carry on as normal and you won’t have to bother about any awkwardness between us, I’m a professional man after all. But, if you say yes, you’ll have to quit. I won’t be able to keep my hands off you at work once I’ve had a taste of you and I won’t want to. I also won’t be able to hold my tongue if one of those disgusting men flirt with you, I can barely restrain myself as it is. If only you knew how vile they were. But I promise I’ll help you find work somewhere else if you’d like. I also promise to cherish you for everything you’re worth, I’ll take such good care of you.” Your heart swells at his words. The look of seriousness in his eyes has you breathless.

“San can I, can I think about this?” Your eyes gaze at him, pleading for him to understand how hard that decision was to make.

Even harder, given that you’re supposed assassinate him, right Y/N? This wasn’t fair. Life just wasn’t fair.

Why couldn’t he be like every other high-stakes criminal? A pig who wanted nothing more than to fatten themselves up off the back of everyone else’s work. Why couldn’t he be 2 dimensional? Black and white? Just pure evil? Why was Choi San so god damned loveable?

His casefile spoke of a deeply troubled and highly dangerous man who had no issue with disposing of anyone. People were pawns to be used and boy was he good at using them. But the man before you was nothing like that. He was fiercely loyal and passionate. Driven, hardworking, and kind.

San was everything you’d ever wanted in a man and then some and it was your job to kill him. You’d been compromised. There was no way that you’d be able to do harm to him now but, there was also no way that you could go into corporate HQ empty handed.

Your mission statement had been clear: failure meant being burned. Which meant definite death for you. If you could stall San, it would give you the chance to run. You’d disappear into the wind probably somewhere where they couldn’t find you. You’d leave him a warning and disappear for good.

Yeah, you could do that… Except- San’s eyes darkened. His face set in determination “No. No Y/N , you don’t get time to think about it. This is a onetime offer. I’m not going to let you keep running from this."  He held your wrists in his hands shaking them lightly; prompting you to look directly into his eyes.

"I’m putting everything that I am out there, I’m offering you my heart Y/N. I don’t think I can sit around and wait while you decide whether or not I’m worth it.” This was new. San looked so vulnerable as he held your hands in his.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no. Screw your mission - somehow, you’d make it work.

Eventually, you’d have to tell him that you were a plant but, that could wait.

“Okay San, I quit. I’m all yours.” Your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. But he hears you. San pulls you forward, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you with a kiss. You taste the hint of coffee left in his lips and the sugar from your pastry: sweet and bitter, just like the situation you were in now.

Your lips move against each other slowly, San takes his time with you, running his hands over your body; caressing every inch that his hands touch.

When San pulls back, he looks like a dream. His dimpled smile stretches across his face, eyes almost disappearing, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it. His lips are spit-slicked and swollen and the prettiest shade of cherry red.

You feel like a teenager experiencing their first kiss all over again, except this time it’s not disappointing. You’re giddy and you can feel your face heating up.

“I’m really happy that you’re here with me Y/N. We should celebrate. How about a drink?” He holds up the bottle of Bokbunja and shakes it.

“Yeah, let’s celebrate.” You sigh, the gravity of your decision finally settling in on you. There was no way you were going to be able to get through this. If you ran now, the corporation would find you and if they didn’t you were certain that San would.

“Let me get us some wine glasses.” He pats your thigh and gets up, taking the bottle of wine with him.  Being alone with your thoughts for that short time was driving you crazy.

How were you going to get out of the situation you’d put yourself in? You’d been trained for almost every possible situation but, there was no training for what to do when you fell for your target.

You’re pulled out of your stupor when San returns with the 2 glasses of wine, placing 1 in front of you.

You try to smile convincingly but, it felt more like a grimace but, you still try to play your role. “What should we toast to?”

San thinks for a moment.

“We should toast to something cheesy like, ‘new beginnings’ or to ‘us’.” He laughs at how cheesy it sounds and your heart swells at his sudden shyness

“Okay, to us it is. To us.” You both raise your glasses together, clinking them and then you drink.

You chug the wine, hoping that a little liquid courage would help you relax.

“Woah slow down there Y/N.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, it’s a really nice wine.” You smile sheepishly and rapidly blink – your vision going a little hazy. You try to hide how nervous you are as you pour another glass for yourself.

San pulls his chair back from the table and sits across from you. You try to reach out for him, but your arm feels heavy.

San just watches you, his expression distant.

“I’m glad you liked the wine, I added something a little different to yours though. Can you feel it Y/N? Seonghwa said you would, he said it was fast acting. It really looks like it’s working. I’ll have to thank him.” You look at him quizzically and try to shake off the brain fog, but  you can’t. Your mind is hazier than ever.

You didn’t drink that much, what did Seonghwa have to do with the wine?

It clicks in your mind and you watch as San’s sombre expression. Your mind runs back to your fact files. Seonghwa was a chemicals expert. He played around with poisons.

You try to convey your alarm, but your head and eyes are too heavy.

“whaid you doo tme?” Inside your head, you’re panicking but, outside you can’t move, you’re slowly losing consciousness.

“I didn’t do anything to you Y/N. You did this to yourself.” You try to fight back as San picks you up bridal style but, your body isn’t working with you. Mounting panic gives way to artificial indifference and your vision narrows down to a pinhead. Everything goes black.

You came to, slowly. The first thing you noticed was that you were sprawled out on your back and that your arms were aching. Trying to stretch them out, you realise with a start that they’re bound to bed posts. Your body slips on black satin sheets as you try to sit up. “Keep calm Y/N, keep calm.” The panic is setting in, freezing your body and you know if you let it take you over that logic will leave.

“Yeah Y/N, stay calm. I’m sure this will all blow over.” In taking stock of your current, bound state, you didn’t even realise that San was watching you. He regards you silently but, coldly. His eyes holding none of the previous love and softness.

You’ve been had. You realised it too late. And now you’re going to die. But you don’t want to die.

Your breath comes in short puffs, quickly increasing and your head is beginning to spin. The feeling of pins and needles travels across your fingertips. Tears start to prick at your eyes.

San quickly gets up from his seat in the middle of the room and sits next to you on the bed. “Calm down Y/N, I need you to breathe slowly. Especially because I need you to be coherent for what I’m going to say."  You try to do as your told and flinch when San reaches towards your face and wipes away your tears.

"I don’t like games Y/N but, that doesn’t mean that I’m not good at playing them. I always win. You’ve been playing a slow game with me and I’m really not happy about it.” He leans in close and you try to back away from him, but the sheets aren’t on your side, you’re still groggy.

“I know who you work for. I’ve always known.” Your heart rate picks up at that. You’d had a feeling that he would’ve found out but, not that he had always known.

“Now, before you go getting yourself into a panic. I’m not going to kill you. No, you could be of some use to me. I’m going to ask you some questions honey and if I think you’re lying, I might have to send you to Hongjoong and we both know what will happen if I do. But, if you’re good and you tell me the truth, I might just let you off the hook.” San’s hand grips your inner thigh and then he pulls back; getting up from beside you and pulling his chair to the end of the bed.

You can only watch him, your mind running through all the possible ways you could get away from him. Your mind comes up short.

“The corporation put another hit out on me, yeah? It doesn’t surprise me but, what does is why they would send a lower level spy so, why you? And remember princess honesty is the only thing that will keep you safe.” He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and looks at you expectantly.

“They couldn’t figure out why every assassin they sent was getting killed so they figured you must have insider info on who they were sending. Lower level means less clearance so they sent me in because it would be hush hush. Less people to get permission from, meant less people involved, lower chance of failure.” He nods and furrows his brows.

“So, was the aim to still kill me?” “Yes.” You’re surprised to see the flash of hurt pass by his features but, it surprises you even more that it affected you so much.

Killing someone was one thing, telling them was another.

“When.” He watches you carefully, daring you to lie to him. “My deadline was today.” He sighs, nodding.

“What stopped you?"  You can’t answer him. Because I fell in love, was such a cliché response and it would’ve sounded 2 dimensional given the situation you were in now.

San was clearly hurt so most likely wouldn’t believe anything that sappy but, it was true.

Even after being mildly poisoned and tied up your feelings didn’t waiver and even before this, you’d been planning on how to leave him unscathed.

"You’re taking too long Y/N, don’t li-” “I fell in love with you.” You blurt it out before you can second guess it. He looks at with a blank expression, his lips pressed tightly together.

He doesn’t believe you.

“You wanted honesty so here it is. I started doubting my ability to carry out the mission as soon as you guys started letting me into your inner circle. I didn’t get that close to your business, but I got close to you guys; I have so much in common with Yunho and Jongho showed me all his tech stuff and I had lunch with Hongjoong and his mum. His mother, San. The closer I got to all of you the more I didn’t want to carry this out. I was meant to do it yesterday but, I just couldn’t. I can’t hurt you. ” A fresh wave of tears flow from your eyes.

San gets up, wordlessly and walks away, shocking you. It’s over.

“Don’t look so panicked.” He sits by you, tissues in in hand and wipes your tears. “I’m not going anywhere but, I don’t think you want tears drying on your face.”   He’s smiles at you tenderly.

“Untie me San.” The smile drops off his face.

“Why would I do that? Thank you for your honesty but, that doesn’t let you off the hook just yet. Do you have any idea who, exactly, you’re working for Y/N? Because I do.  Your boss has been living on my dime for years, he was even on my father’s books.”  

“For what exactly?” You’re shocked but, not exactly sure what this has to do with you.

“Let’s just say that your boss has a few extra-curricular activities that would put a damper on his career goals. He wants to run for government one day and there’s no way he can do it if the info I have on him gets out.” The cogs are turning in your head, hearing what he’s saying.

“You’re telling me, that Kim Jinyoung, the same Kim Jinyoung who’s been strait-laced his whole career, who’s been responsible for removing some of the worst careered criminals off the streets, who has a doting wife and 4 kids; is in the back pocket of your gang? That’s not possible San and I’m not playing your game. Just hurry up and kill me.” Oof, you don’t know where that came from, probably the frustration of being tied up and realising that you’ve been had the entire time.

But think about it, Y/N, if San can be good despite what his casefile says then, Jinyoung has every possibility of being vile.

San gets up and reaches for a manila file in the bedside table.

“I thought you’d say that. I normally have these files stored away but, I bought this one just for you. Let me show you what he’s been up to. Here’s one of him doing cocaine. Here’s one of him drinking with Taeyong at one of Taeyong’s parties; I’m sure you know who Taeyong is. And, this one’s my favourite: him being spanked by a girl at Mingi’s strip club. So, tell me again that I’m lying.” You’re left speechless, unsure of what to say and having no clue where to even begin.

San pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs again. You only look at him in bewilderment.

“Look, I’m not going to kill you Y/N. If I’d planned on doing it, I would have killed you already.” He pulls the key from his trousers and undoes the cuffs around your wrists. You rub them gingerly and flex your fingers – trying to get the feeling back into them.

He unties your feet as well and sits back in his chair.

“I’m also not letting you leave. I’ve had a mole in the corporation for a while, I’ve known this was coming. But I wasn’t expecting to get feelings for you. The plan was to play with you and Jinyoung, make him think he’d finally gotten the one-up on me and once he’d gotten comfortable or you thought you were close enough, I was going to send you to him in pieces.” Your body runs cold and you start to shake.

San had planned on mutilating you?

“Well what stopped you?” You want to look defiant; you want to appear strong but, the question comes out in pathetic whisper.

“You were only doing your job. As were all of the assassins. They were given choices. Stay or die. 4 stayed and they work for Ateez now and 1 was disposed of. You’re the only one I’ve fallen for and trust me when I say that I love you. My proposition still stands Y/N, although in a different way. I want you by my side but, obviously that means quitting your job – your real job. If not, I’ll let you go; I can’t hurt you and I won’t let anyone else, not even your boss.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb lovingly.

You lean forward, closing the distance and kiss him slowly.

When you pull back, his cheeks are dusted with pink but, he still looks unsure.

“Choi San, I quit.”

[heartwoodventures]

Lightning Strikes Twice

This time, Red Argos had hit close to home. Earlier in the week Momori had brought word to Heartwood Ventures that the pirate crew had been spotted in the Black Shroud. There had been reports of kidnappings as well as rumors of one paranoid man who, being convinced he was next, had barricaded himself within his home near the Honey Yard. 

It was a rainy day in the Shroud but those who had been summoned to the Company House didn’t bother to go inside. They knew they’d be leaving just as quickly as they had arrived. Instead they gathered under the cover of umbrellas in Heartwood’s front yard. The weather seemed to keep the conversations muted, subdued. 

Suddenly a young midlander girl darted out from the company building, her long black braids bouncing as she giggled uncontrollably. She held a pair of red tinted glasses aloft in her hands, and she was soon followed by a very angry lalafell that came chasing after her.

“INGA. Give those back! I swear, if you don’t drop them right now...” Momori growled at the girl, who scampered up a tree laughing. 

It was at that moment that Momori noticed the company’s presence, and immediately shifted to her professional composure.

“Hello. Ahem. Thanks for coming today. Nice weather we’re having.”

Lumarto kept his eyes on Inga as she ran off, clearly used to it. "Dreary, but aye." he said, glancing back to Momori.

A ripple of agreement moved through the group. 

The lalafell wasted no time and began to explain the situation at hand. Red Argos had been seen in the Shroud. Two Honey Yard workers have disappeared and a local madman claimed he was the next to go. When there was noise among the group in favor of paying this supposed madman a visit, Momori made it clear she thought that lead was a waste of time. It was a strange situation, to be sure. But the authorities had said that Ser Stone, as that was his name, had a history of grand delusions. 

"Well, if he's not what you want to pursue, who then?" Muneshige gruffly asked. 

The Raen swordsman made a few of their company nervous. He was loud, brash and always seemed to be itching for a fight. There was little doubt that if there came even the slightest whiff of the possibility of violence during this endeavor, he’d charge at it like a bull at the sight of the color red. 

"Two other leads. Could ask workers at the Honey Yard, see if they know where Argos is hiding this time. Or even Little Solace. I am aware the pirates are....somewhere, in the Sylphlands, though exactly where is uncertain." Momori explained. 

"Sylphlands..." He repeated, seemingly mystified by the name. 

Zorah shook her umbrella a bit, closing it up as the rain finally stopped. "I like the Sylphs.  Cute little creatures."

"Creatures? Are they...native to this wood?" Muneshige was definitely curious now.

Aislinn weighed the options, considering which one would bring them in contact with the pirates the quickest. Because, ultimately, it was the pirates she was after. "Aye, and if we know the pirates are in their lands, I say we go there."

"Whatever you choose, I will be tagging along....virtually, of course.” Momori produced a handful of the modified linkpearls and passed them out among the group, explaining to those who had yet to see the devices how they worked. “For the unaware, aside from normal linkpearl functions, this device captures data about an image and aetheric levels at the time of taking it. Press the button on its side to snap a photo. It’ll save the last one you take.”

With that done, she dove into debriefing the crew on what she had learned from the information they had collected during their last endeavor. She paused in particular on the matter of the Allagan artifact, the Helm. 

“Now, the artifact. The Helm. It’s not so useless after all! The crystal at the center of the artifact has unlocked its capabilities. Unfortunately, the snapshot Lumarto took has too much noise in it. If you could get a photo of just the crystal at the center, before the ritual has happened, I would better be able to pinpoint what it’s composed of.” she said with a look to the miqo’te. 

"Something that strong and heavy with aether wouldn't be so easy to approach just like that... depending on who has it, at least..." Luma said, scratching his head as he tried to make heads or tails of even the realistic nature of such a request.

He wasn’t wrong. What Momori was asking simply wasn’t feasible. 

Aware of this fact, Aislinn shifted a wry glance to Lumarto as he stood next to her. "Ask if you can get a close-up shot next time. I'm sure they won't mind." she said, all but deadpan.

Lumarto glanced at her and scoffed. 

“I believe in you.” Momori returned. Also deadpan.

Aislinn shook her head at the lalafell. 

From there the talk devolved into more discussion as to the origins of the Helm, the artifact’s history and it’s possible purpose. 

"Do we think the elements surrounding that in the center correlate with the brands we found?" Lumarto asked, glancing back at Inga in the trees before rubbing at the burn on his hand. "If so, there may be more missing that answer the puzzle."

Momori nodded at Luma. “This one carries the brain cell, I see. Yes, the brands, the artifact, the core...they’re all linked, somehow.”

Thankfully, the rest of them refused to rise to the bait. Zorah bit her tongue while it took a considerable amount of self-control on Aislinn’s part not to roll her eyes. Hard. 

“We use our scant resources wisely.” Rolanda quipped. 

The lalafell flipped to a different page in her journal, where she had sketched two marks. One shows the sigil of fire, and the other, earth. Both are surrounded by six wings.

“The mark of fire was found burned into a skeleton’s wrist. The mark of earth, currently found on young Inga. Both recovered from Red Argos’s old campgrounds.” Momori glanced at Inga, the young midlander girl who was busy climbing in the treehouse.

Zorah looked toward Inga, "Is she going to be buried alive? Is that the hint?"

"Haha, who knows? Not us, not yet." Momori smiled.

Zorah blinked, ears flattening.  "Well, hopefully we'll prevent that."

"As for the rest, let me be brief. I showed the Yellow Jackets Aislinn’s photo. The one she took of Aiswyda’s evil twin. No dice. Perhaps if we found more evidence..."

Aislinn compressed her lips together at the mention of the intractable Yellow Jackets.

"Now, I leave you to your work..." Momori said, sending them off.

The group traveled through the Shroud, the journey blessedly uneventful, until they arrived at the small camp at the very edge of the Sylphlands. Little Solace. There were sylphs galore and none of them seemed particularly concerned or alarmed. At least here, all was well. 

Muneshige was taken aback, really, the forest of the Black Shroud was nothing like he'd ever seen out east, and the mystical aesthetic of Little Solace and its small population briefly captivated him. But only for a moment, for he was already looking around for signs of strong opponents, "Well, this is quite a location..."

Two slyphs by the red tent were deep in gossip. Others flutter about, warming their cabbage bodies by the campfire.

Zorah clapped her hands together as the band arrived. "Look how cute they are." She spoke quietly, reaching for her chocobo’s reins.

"First order of business was to gather information, yeah? These gossipy little creatures are sure to have heard a word or two in the forest." Lumarto said, getting down to business. 

Aislinn tucked her gemstone into her pouch as the carbuncle dissipated. Looking around, she noted the general air of calm around the camp. "Don't seem to be too agitated. But aye, we should probably ask around. See if they've heard anything." she said in agreement with Luma.

Zorah had dismounted and now nodded, stepping forward, "Oh most likely.  Let's go talk to those ones." She gestured to the sylphs near the red tent.

As the Company approached, they overheard snatches of conversation. Giants. Gunfire. Komuxio’s secret sauce. Nosey outlanders. They turn towards the group, now aware of their presence.

"Hm. I'll let you handle the talking." Muneshige huffed. 

Zorah smiled, bowing her head to the two talkative Sylphs.  "Hello! Might we inquire further about this gunfire?"

Aislinn raised a hand in greeting from just behind Zorah’s shoulder. 

The sylph on the right crossed her arms. “Walking ones ask with much rudeness! This one prefers more polite company.”

"Polite or humorous? If I recall, you and yours prefer outlanders with hilarity to offer?" Lumarto said to the sylph in question.

Zorah’s ears flattened, the smile disappearing.  "I do apologize," She spoke quickly, heat rising in her cheeks, letting Luma continue.

The slyph nodded eagerly at Lumarto. He seemed to have struck a chord.

Aislinn dropped her head. "Dancing. I bet it's dancing." she said under her breath.

Lumarto shuddered at the thought. "Dancing..." Luma said. He began doing his best impression of a dance he would do for his son Rohmio; ignoring the embarrassment.

Rolanda quickly joined in with a dance of her own. Aislinn watched the two for a moment before she inhaled a breath and steeled herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t dance. She could. Very well. But it was rarely something she had done in the presence of others. But, dancing it would be. She joined in and like Lumarto, tried to ignore the embarrassment. 

The slyph clapped her hands together excitedly. “Walking ones have pretty dances! What about those two?” She looked at Zorah and Muneshige who still had not joined the dance. 

Muneshige was not going to dance. In fact, he began to distance himself. He didn’t want to be seen with these weirdos.

Lumarto tried staring over at Zhora amidst his dancing. "Hurry and dance so we can stop being in this ridiculous state..." Luma muttered, clearly at his edge.

Zorah shook her head and hurriedly joined the trio.  

The slyph seemed appeased by the dancing. “Hehe, such moves. What can this one do for you?”

Aislinn stopped almost immediately, her cheeks aflame. "Oh, thank the Twelve."

Lumarto stopped dancing, and cleared his throat. "We were hoping you had some more information about that gunfire you heard? We're looking for... bad... outlanders?... Metal machinery, pirates, etcetera..." Luma said, questioning the sylph.

The slyph nodded. “This one has seen the green giants and their small, gun-bearing mascots. This one mostly stays out of the Sylphlands, but has an idea of the direction that they went.”

Rolanda noticed everyone had stopped dancing and stopped as well. "That was surprisingly fun."

Lumarto nodded to them, opening up a small journal and jotting down the Sylph's words. "And where did they go? Further northeast?"

Aislinn touched the back of a gloved hand to one heated cheek and then the other, listening intently to the exchange.

The sylph nodded again. “This one heard a big wind fly overhead, northeast. And then saw many of them enter and exit the Sylphlands.” The other slyph interjected. “And /this one/ saw a big group of them split from the rest! Deeper into the woods!”

The miqo’te nodded to them both, smiling lightly. He added the notes to his journal. "So two groups? Do you know where those groups might be now?" Lumarto asked.

"The ones that split away...perhaps they did so to start another ritual. Much like last time." Aislinn hummed in thought. 

Lumarto nodded to the woman’s train of thought, agreeing with her.

Despite distancing himself, Muneshige still listened in on the information. If all else failed, he could just follow the group. The rumor about many somethings and a big creature...that sounded like it could be fun. Hopefully.

The two slyphs looked at each other, and then looked to the party. “This one...is uncertain. But this one can lead walking ones to where the split happened."

"Please if you wouldn't mind, you're being such a great help right now. I'll be sure to return by to repay the favour." Lumarto said, closing his journal and stashing it away.

One of the sylphs, the braver one by the looks of it, nodded. It fluttered ahead and beckoned for the party to follow. The other stayed behind.

As they ventured deeper into the Sylphlands, they all felt the air grow thicker. It was as if there were sparks in every breath. The slyph carefully helped the party avoid any monsters and patrols, and finally came to a halt at an intersection. “This one last saw the outlanders here. This one...is scared.” It looked left and right, and then fluttered back to the safety of Little Solace.

Aislinn turned and looked off to where the little slyph had left a trail of dust in their wake in their haste to return to Solace. "Well, then." she scanned the forest around them, keeping a careful eye out.

There were clearly two paths. One that headed further north, and another that headed east. Nothing but lush, deep forest surrounded the band, and all around them were the ominous sounds of aggressive wildlife and giggling sylphs, touched by Levin.

Lumarto made sure to thank the Sylph for its help before pressing against the pearl attached to his collar. "We followed a helpful sylph to where they last saw the potential pirates or garleans; basically, we have a lead. Two paths ahead of us with the differing states.” he reported to Momori. 

Muneshige glanced down each path, the giggling more or less an irritant, "Well, pick a path. I've half a mind to just start cutting things down."

Somehow that came as no surprise to Aislinn. 

A crackle. Momori’s voice came through. “I’m unfamiliar with the Sylphlands. Perhaps scout the area, or split the party?”

"Splitting sounds best, we can cover more ground and ease the search." Lumarto said, looking to the group for agreement; or for any issues.

"So who wants to interrupt a ritual and who wants to chase an airship?" Aislinn asked with a measure of black humor.

After some discussion it was decided. Khora, Muneshige, Zorah and Aislinn would track the airship while Lumarto and Rolanda would follow the pirates that had traveled north, further into the wood. 

"Sounds good. Lumarot, we must be cautious, we won't have much backup." Rolanda told the miqo’te. 

"Last time we encountered the airship it was chalk full of Pirates and Garleans, Muneshige. So you'll have your hands full." Lumarto informed the Raen. Most likely in a bid to advocate caution. 

Muneshige nodded, "Finally, something of actual interest."

Aislinn glanced between Lumarto and Muneshige "Or....we could maybe not? Maybe reconnaissance first."

"-You- can do your recon. I'm not here to sit around." Muneshige returned loftily. 

It had been worth a shot. 

"Considering what you found back then, talking first is better if she's there." Lumarto said to Aislinn, offering a rather concerned look.

Aislinn returned the look and with that, the parties split, each following their own leads. Rolanda and Lumarto disappeared into the dark of the deeper forest heading north while the rest made their way east. 

Lumarto held his hand to his collar, speaking with the group, his voice crackling over the linkpearl. "Remember, we need to take a picture with the device if we come across anything. Considering our numbers now, we should get a lot of evidence." He paused. "...Someone should probably take Muneshige's before he breaks it..."

Aislinn gave a derisive snort.

Zorah looked toward Mune, holding her hand out.  "Hand it over."

Muneshige made no effort to keep the device to himself, and tossed it towards Zorah. "Take it. I've no interest in these...devices."

The Ritual 

As Rolanda and Lumarto headed north, they could hear....footsteps through the undergrowth. Up ahead they could see a large patrol of pirate seawolves, transporting a large, covered cart. It was in that moment, the worst possible time, that Rolanda stepped on a stick. The pirates all looked towards the source of the sound.

Lumarto immediately held Rolanda back some, pulling her behind a nearby piece of lumber to hide their bodies from the nearby patrol. "Be careful next time... there are all sorts of natural traps like that lying around..." Luma said, catching a breath before letting out a soft sigh. "We're hidden, but we can't see much from here."

"I am normally quite agile, I do apologize. I will be quite careful. We need to get into a better position if we're to have any hope of discovering something useful." Rolanda whispered. 

Lumarto nodded, peeking around the lumber and trying to best decide about their next choice of action.

The pirates muttered among themselves, unnerved. But they continued to travel north, lugging their heavy cargo close behind. For a moment, both Rolanda and Lumarto seemed to catch sight of something strange. Did something under the carriage's cloth covering just move?

"Good gravy that looked like a person in there! Let's follow them and see if we can stop this." she hissed. 

"Follow them /carefully/" Luma added to Rolanda, choosing to stick to areas with cover as they tried to get a better look; or discern if their hunches were correct about the cart.

Rolanda glared at Luma's back as she creeps forward. "CAREFULLY!" she whispered to herself. She followed along a few paces behind the miqo’te. 

As the two trail the cart without being noticed, they could overhear bits of idle chit chat exchanged between the pirates. “Don’t know why we go through all this trouble, finding special folk...but if Kurr says it's worth it, then it must be so.”

"So this answers the question of the contents... they are probably the source of kidnappings too..." Lumarto whispered over to Rolanda, "I don't know if they are more patrols up ahead, but if we both take one we can probably save a few souls... or just wait it out and find out more... I'd rather save a life if I could." 

"Agreed. We have an opportunity to possibly save someone here, I think we need to take it. If we must flee afterwards, so be it. Perhaps we can be quiet and avoid alerting the others." Rolanda replied. 

After a moment’s consideration, Lumarto turned to the Au Ra. "We can't just sneak and get them out... and there are only those two pirates... we need to act now before they meet up with more." he said, readying his rapier before pulling out a small focus by his hip. "What do you say?"

"I can start by loosing an arrow at the guards from cover, and you can move in and take them by surprise while they are distracted. What do you think?" Rolanda suggested. 

"I think that sounds like a good enough idea, so let's go with that." Lumarto said, facing the group. "Shoot. I'll come from behind." he added, already breaking away from Rolanda as now was the time to act, not talk.

Rolanda drew a deadly looking arrow and nocked it silently. With a nod to Lumarto, she pulled back on the bowstring. She took a deep breath, and loosed an arrow at the first guard, quickly moving to draw a second to mop up whatever remains.

Lumarto approached from behind, dashing forward as Rolanda fired. His rapier impaled the distracted pirate from behind. 

The element of surprise was on the pair’s side. Rolanda’s arrow pinned the pirate to the ground, while Luma’s thrust hit true. They weren’t dead, but they were pinned to the ground by the blows. “Aye! Leviathan’s scaly arse!”

Before they were given a chance to call for aid or make more noise; Lumarto held his focus to the butt of his rapier and hurled a rough rock to both heads of the pirates to knock them out cold. The effort saw to it that both of the pirates were knocked out cold. 

"That's that." Luma said, sighing some as he sheathed his rapier before quickly hopping atop the cart. "Lets see here.." he carefully took hold of the ends of the tarp before lifting it slowly to the side. 

Underneath the tarp were two hyur, their arms and legs bound. Both had a sack over their heads, and feebly struggled against their bindings. As clear as daylight, a brand on each of their wrists. Purple, and the symbol of lightning etched in the center.

He stared at the two in the cart, carefully taking the sacks off their heads to let them get adjusted to the light before offering a sigh of relief. "We're here to help, hold on." he explained, taking a knife from his belt and cutting one hyur's bindings off; moving onto the next after the first had been freed.

"I can take these hyur to safety if you can help me carry them to the edge of the camp. My whale should easily be able to hold us all" Rolanda said as she shouldered her bow. 

Lumarto nodded to Rolanda, then glanced back at the hyurs. "That would help, but we gotta be careful still." he said as he checked the two over.

The two hyur flopped around, as if struggling on instinct. But they seemed to be in a trance of some sort, violet eyes aglow. One of them muttered vacantly... “She calls for us...Our lady.”

"This doesn't look good. I doubt we will be able to keep them quiet" Rolanda murmured. 

Lumarto nodded. "I'm not about to cover their heads again with the sack, but we have to try our best to get them away from here at least... This kind of trance is not going to go away immediately; especially in this highly aetheric area." he said, carefully taking one of them and carrying them on his back. "Try your best to carry them, if we struggle you go and fetch your whale and I'll wait for you."

Rolanda did as he said and carefully lifted the other hyur over her shoulders. "Let's get out of here."

As they made their escape they could hear the faint sounds of fighting and gunfire in the distance. It sounded as if the other party had run up against Red Argos in a bad way. 

And indeed they had. While Lumarto and Rolanda were freeing the victims they had found from the clutches of the pirates, the party of four had tracked the airship headed east, and had managed to hide just as they came upon a small patrol of garleans and pirates making their rounds. 

From their hiding spot, Aislinn peered further into the forest. Patrols appeared to be staggered all along the route ahead. She could see bodies moving between the ancient trees. 

"Suppose the airship lies that-a-way." she said quietly before looking back towards the others. "If we stay to the shadows we should be able to get closer. If we're quiet." she added, eyeing Muneshige like he was a loose cannon.

For his part, Khora made every effort to remain quiet upon Aislinn's recommendation.  "If there is anything one should know about me, it's that I'm am not very discrete."  He admitted before quickly following Aislinn’s glance toward Muneshige. "Yeah we're screwed..."

She inhaled a breath. Was the quiet and subtle way even worth it? "Or...some of us could cause a distraction while the others slip through?" she suggested.

The Raen of course, cared not for stealth. He stood from the grass and began walking towards the thick of it, utterly unafraid of the sheer number of soldiers. He drew his blade and stuck it into the ground, "Hey hey HEY! What's goin' on here?!" He -bellowed-, throwing away all subtlety, "Looks like there's a party here, and I wasn't invited?!" 

"Gods." Aislinn hung her head and wiped a hand over her face in utter exasperation. “Right. Guess we're going with option #2.”

From her hiding place next to Aislinn, Zorah's ears flattened.  "It's always an Au ra...." She muttered, shaking her head.

The ink upon Khora’s arms began to burn a bright orange, and with a flick of his wrist, so did the steel of his blade.  "And here we go!" The Miqo'te yelled at the top of his lungs while lunging forward.

The patrol turned to look at Muneshige and Khora, before exchanging bewildered looks. Who were these random guys, challenging them to battle? It was suspicious, either way. The two dressed in Garlean blacks drew their guns, while a seawolf pirate drew a rapier. The last pirate hung in the back, making a call on a peculiar black linkpearl.

Aislinn resolutely stayed where she was, low to the ground, hiding. If the Raen wanted to call down every garlean and pirate in the area, she wasn't going to stop him. She was, however, going to wait for her window of opportunity. Idiot. 

"Alright, let's get to business! Akaitaiyo thirsts for blood!" Muneshige yanked the sword from the ground and charged in with Khora, finally something interesting was happening!

The garleans fired off their guns at Muneshige, while the pirate dashed towards Khora, rapier drawn.

Muneshige charged -directly- towards the closest gunner he could find, apparently caring not if he got shot, winding back his blade and swinging wide and hard, with enough force to cleave through bone. The bullets simply glance off what little armor he wore, causing minor bleeding in his side.

Deft was perhaps the wrong word in which to define Khora’s movements.  He still needed work on his up-front-and-personal skills.  The pirate's ability with the rapier caused Khora to stumble back and nice little poke upon his left arm.

As the scuffle began in earnest, Aislinn took advantage of the chaos to nod at Zorah and moved low through the undergrowth, maneuvering further into the wood. The Seeker nodded and followed behind her, keeping low to the ground.

With the help of the boys’ distraction, Aislinn and Zorah made it past the occupied patrols and soon found themselves deeper into the woods. They found a place to hide, which overlooked a /large/ gathering of garleans and pirates. Below, next to the grounded airship were also two elezen with their heads covered, surrounded by several open crates of ...flower petals?

Zorah looked down at the gathering, slowly taking in the scene before her.  Seeing the crates of flower petals, at least she hoped that was what they were, she immediately had the urge to jump in them. She kept her composure, however, ears flickering as she listened around her.  It was then that she finally noticed the two that looked like possible prisoners and glanced questioningly at Aislinn.

The highlander leaned forward, peering down at the gathering with a flummoxed expression. Flower petals? "The brands we've seen have petals but...I assumed it was symbolic." she murmured to Zorah. Aiming her aetheric linkpearl at the gathering, she snapped a picture and continued observing the activity below.

One of the Garleans put his hand to his ear, and afterward, directed a large patrol of pirates and men away from the camp. The ones that stayed behind quickly begin to usher one of the prisoners onto the ship. They seemed to be making preparations for a quick liftoff.

Zorah leaned forward, ready to push herself off the ground as the group left.  "Now, we can get in and out quickly between the two of us."

Aislinn eyed the activity below. "Nymeia's Blood." she cursed, under her breath. Pressing the linkpearl she attempted to alert Khora. "There are a lot more headed your way." she said before nodding to Zorah. "Let's go."

Disturbingly, there was no reply forthcoming to her warning. She tried not to think of why that might be as she and Zorah slid down the overlook and snuck towards the airship. But Zorah clearly thought the same, as she kept glancing back towards where they had left Khora and Muneshige, trying not to feel sick to her stomach. 

It was then that they heard the explosions. They came from the direction of the fight. Aislinn turned toward the sound in alarm. Glancing towards Zorah, she hesitated. Torn. The dogged part of her wanted to press on. It hadn’t been her decision to charge the bloody patrols, after all. Damn it all. She gritted her teeth and continued on, sneaking into the camp, and headed straight for the crate of flower petals. Zorah’s ears flicked as if they were on swivels, listening to every little sound as the two crept close to the crates. 

From their vantage point they could see that Red Argos had moved one of the prisoners onto the ramp of the airship, but the prisoner was putting up quite the fight, and distracting the remaining gunners. The other remained by the flowers, sobbing silently.

Zorah had grabbed one of the crates, pausing as she heard the sobbing close by.  She felt and overwhelming need to return to the fight immediately, but she couldn't just leave this one here.  She glanced toward Aislinn as she set the crate down, reaching for the hood over the prisoner's head, ready to shush him before he'd give away their presence.

The hooded elezen turned towards the sound of shushing, but he couldn’t see anything due to the bag over his head. Meanwhile, they could hear the angry yells, echoing throughout the airship, and heard a few words. “Hurry...Just go...We’ll find more...It’s about to begin!”

Those words sounded like they were out of time. The smart thing to do would be to take some of the petals and go. But Aislinn found she just...couldn’t. She gave a sharp shake of her head and reached out, grabbing the hooded victim by the wrist. "Please. Listen. Stay quiet and come with us. We can get you out of here." she whispered hurriedly.

Zorah took only a handful of petals, and then helped the prisoner up to his feet.

The victim allowed himself to be dragged to somewhere hidden, and not one second later, four gunners dashed out of the ship. Upon seeing that the other prisoner is no longer by the crates, they let out a string of curses, and instead busy themselves by moving the crates of flowers onto the ship. The ship flickered, rose into the air and then disappeared, the cloaking enabled. A strong gust of wind, and they were gone…

From their hiding spot, Aislinn watches the ship flicker and disappear. She lets go a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. That was close.

Zorah glanced back as the airship disappeared, pressing her lips together before turning back to Aislinn and their one rescued prisoner.  "We need to check on the guys." She spoke quietly.

Aislinn looked to Zorah and nodded. "Go. I'll help this one and follow as soon as I can." she said, reaching up to undo the hood that still blinded the elezen.

Zorah nodded and without wasting a moment she raced back toward where the fighting had been, "Khora?!" She yelled out as she ran, looking through the disheveled earth they had been fighting on. Her ears flickered slightly, hearing familiar voices and following them until she eventually came upon Muneshige and Khora.  "What the hells..." Zorah growled. 

Both of the men looked worse for wear but Khora clearly took the brunt of the fighting. He lay in the grass, clutching his side and bleeding from a number of rapier cuts. 

"Don't worry too much, he's alive. Might not have made it if I hadn't ran back here with him, had a whole firing squad on our tails." Muneshige smirked up at the woman from his spot next to Khora, "Can't say I've been shot this many times."

Zorah’s ears flattened at Muneshige’s words, as she knelt between them.  One hand came to lay on Khora gently while she looked over the Au ra's own body.  "Well, you can say that now, I suppose." she shook her head with a sigh, "We need to get you both to the medics.  Those bullets need to come out of you." Zorah turned to Khora, pressing her lips together.  "Are you -trying- to die?" 

Khora struggled to raise his arm, trembling as it extended upward to give a thumbs up.  "I'm okay!"  There was an obvious strain in his voice.

This elicited a grin from Zorah and she rolled her eyes at his comment.  "Yeah, you look like shit, actually."

Khora trembled amidst a weak bout of laughter.  "Yeah, well I feel like shit."  Blood ran down his arm and soaked at the cloth of his outfit from the stab wounds.

It was then that Momori’s voice crackled over the linkpearls. "Lumarto. What's your status?"

"We stopped a cart from hauling two Hyur prisoners further into the Sylphlands and are currently carrying them back to the entrance." Luma said, the effort in his voice lending credence to his words. "They seem to be in a trance; violet eyes, lightning brand on their wrist, probably because of the lightning aspect in these woods." He continued, glancing at his side where Rolanda was holding her own as they just made it to Little Solace.

“A brand and violet eyes....?” There was a long pause from Momori’s side. “Like Inga.”

"Inga has amber eyes, do you think their eye color is related to their aspect?" He added. He was muddled with thoughts and kept trying to figure out the links; he had his own side mission in all of this after all.

Momori. Aislinn. Lumarto. It seemed each of them had their own goals in all of this. 

“She has the mark of earth. Perhaps...” Momori was cut off as everyone in the area around the Sylphlands found themselves caught in a sudden and violent earthquake! 

The tremors tore at the earth, pulling ancient trees upward in the shifting topography. As if that wasn’t enough, a foul wind picked up, whipping through the dark forest. One dripping with lightning.

Rolanda and Lumarto stumbled in their race to safety. 

Muneshige jolted as the earth beneath him suddenly heaved, his pain now twofold with all the shaking, "GRAGGH! Kami forfend what is this?!" The wind picked up, and the sound of thunder followed, "Is this some kind of calamity...?" He couldn't tell what was going on now, what was happening?

Zorah quickly knelt to the ground as the earth shook. "I ... I don't think so.."

Further east, Aislinn and the elezen man were taken by surprise. "Seven hells!" 

Aislinn’s first instinct was to hit the ground but the groaning and cracking of the ancient trees around her quickly divested her of that idea. Instead she reached into her pack and tossed her battered gemstone in the air. When her carbuncle popped into existence, she wasted no time explaining and simply pulled the elezen onto it after her and took to the air.

The two victims Lumarto and Rolanda had saved began to twitch violently, bodies contracting in an unnatural manner. They screamed to be returned! For an end of suffering! Something...was released from them. A torrent of lightning aether flew out from each of them and shot to the north. And afterwards - they went limp. They breathed, but they may as well have been dolls. 

Lumarto had held tightly onto the Hyur. The spastic shuddering and screams caused his ears to sharply curl, paining him to hear the shrieks. The high concentration of aether sent a tingling sensation up his back before he felt the body grow limp. He worried immediately for their well being before hearing their breath. "We have to hurry, I don't like the sound of this!" Luma exclaimed, trying to set a faster pace for Hawthorn Hut. 

After what seemed to be forever, the earthquake finally stilled. A tense calm returned to the forest, and all the parties had time to catch their breath. But, to the aetherically sensitive, they could feel that the land had changed. Scars that were felt but unseen.

Aislinn tried not to focus on it at the moment, instead steering her carbuncle towards the safety of Hawthorn Hut to deposit her passenger and ask if it would be alright if she returned later to ask him some questions.

Understandably, the elezen seemed extremely shaken. As she landed just outside the main building of the outpost, he dismounted and fell to his knees almost immediately.  But he nodded in reply to her request. “Of course, my lady...my savior.” He looked incredibly grateful, but sad as Aislinn helped him to his feet and guided him into the safety of the hut and one of the waiting beds. “...they took my sister. Since you saved me, perhaps on your travels you might...?”

Aislinn looked up, her eyes meeting Lumarto’s as she sat the elezen down. The miqo’te stood his own vigil over two unresponsive bodies lying in their own beds.  "Another one?..." Lumarto said, clearly looking troubled as he glanced at the two Hyur. "The two I saved are speechless after that quake..."

The elezen's words left Aislinn with a stricken expression. His sister. She could only imagine what she would do if something like that had happened to Ren. Her recent bouts of flaring temper would be nothing in comparison. A quaint tempest in a teapot. 

She shook her head. "I...yes. Yes, of course. We're..." she tried to order her thoughts and reminded herself she needn’t put herself so far in the man’s shoes. "The Company I work for. We're tracking these pirates. I will try my best to find your sister." she said, softening the edges from her voice. "For now...try to rest. I'll visit you and we can talk more later."

“Sorry, I was interrupted by another quake...The others dropped off their pearls at the company. What is your location?” Momori came through on the pearl.

"Hawthorne Hut, we managed to rescue three of the four prisoners; an elezen and two hyurs. We're just leaving them with the menders here for safekeeping at the moment." Luma replied before looking over to the Elezen in the bed who could speak. "We'll come back later like Aislinn said... for now rest, we'll try and get everything sorted out."

In the middle of everything, Lumarto stepped back a bit to get both the Elezen and the two Hyurs in frame for a pearl capture; the Elezen sitting up and shaken while the two Hyurs remained motionless; their brands visible in the picture. "We have some pearls for you too, should deem helpful."

The elezen weakly nodded at Aislinn and Luma, but he showed the two of them his wrist. “They put my sister and I in some sort of...dream. I can’t describe it, but after I woke, I found this on my body.” A light teal marking, easy to make out on his dark skin. A symbol of ice, but markedly simpler than the others they had seen. No wings surround this one…

The highlander woman glanced down at the mark before passing Lumarto a meaningful look. It appeared they had some inkling as to where the pirates were headed next.

Lumarto nodded over to her in response, "Try and keep that hidden... we aren't sure its importance yet, but for now it may be a bad target on you." he said, reaching into his pocket and handing the man a small woven bracelet; blue fabric twisted into itself. "Wear this around your marked wrist, and just rest; when those other two wake just let them know to also rest and relax, either of us will return to check on you and make sure you're safe."

The elezen nodded, accepting the bracelet and winding it tightly around his wrist. “Yes, I...” He looked at the two sleeping hyur. ”I don’t know who they are, but I’ll take good care of them.”

With that, Aislinn and Lumarto gave the man parting words of comfort but once outside the hut, their troubled expressions returned. They didn’t need to put it into words. They each knew there was more trouble ahead. This whole thing would get worse before it, hopefully, got better. If they succeeded. If. 

[backtothestart02]

Camera Shy - 2/? | westallen fanfiction {moved from Patreon}

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 2 -

If Barry had thought for even a moment that Iris was going to wait for him to get out of the car before locking the door behind her, he had made some seriously incorrect assumptions about who he was working with.

“Iris, could you-”

“Sorry, what?” she called back, not stopping her powerwalk or even turning her head in the slightest.

He sighed, quickly unlocked his door, got out and locked it again before shutting it and running inside after her.

He was nearly out of breath, having lost her in the crowd that buzzed in the lobby of STYLE Studios. He called out for her to no avail and finally settled for seeking out who they were supposed to check in with on arrival. And of course, who should be there already chatting up the lovely Kendra Saunders than Ms. Iris West.

“Iris,” he said, interrupting their conversation.

Iris gave him an eye roll-slash-glare and Kendra raised her eyebrows in question. The latter seemed like a safer bet, so he reached out his hand to her.

“Barry. Barry Allen. We talked on the phone last week.”

Kendra’s eyes lit up, and she quickly shook his hand.

“Oh, of course, of course. So nice to meet you in person.” She glanced over at Iris. “He’s with you?”

“You’re as surprised as I am,” Iris muttered under her breath.

Barry’s brows narrowed, but he told himself not to make a scene.

“Uh, Mr. Steuk assigned me to her. I’m the new freelance photographer at DAZZLE.”

“Lucky me,” Iris muttered.

This time Kendra could feel the tension radiating off her in waves and shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes, I, um, talked to him too,” Kendra said. “It’s all connecting now. Iris?” Iris lifted her head with a fake smile pressed on it. “Barry?” She glanced up at the taller man. “Why don’t you two follow me? Mr. Singh should be in soon.”

Barry held out his hand to allow Iris to go first, but she’d already started walking and rolled her eyes as soon as she saw his outstretched arm. He swallowed his pride and followed. He would not let this petite miss spoil his mood or his excitement for the project. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with a difficult client, even if it was the first time the difficulty matched the beauty. It was such a shame she was going to be a pain in his ass.

“Have you ever been here before?” he tried for light conversation as soon as they were alone.

She scoffed, though he could see from her following expression that she hadn’t meant to do it aloud.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes, then.”

This time, she begrudgingly responded with words.

“You assume correctly,” she sassed.

What the hell did I do? He couldn’t help but ask himself for the hundredth time.

But before he could vocalize such a question, the door swung open to reveal Mr. David Singh, the owner and head designer of STYLE Studios. Iris stood immediately once in his presence, and Barry followed suit.

“Ms. West, Mr. Allen, good to finally meet you. Please, please, sit down.” He chuckled lightly, heading to the other end of the table and taking a seat. “I’m thrilled to see you, and even more excited to tell you about my new line and plans for the shoot today.”

Barry’s eyes were fixed on Iris’ profile, waiting for him to interject, to say she wasn’t sure she wanted to do the full two-week project, that she wanted to just focus on today, that she needed time to think. But instead she threw him for another loop and jumped in with both feet.

“I can’t wait to hear about it, Mr. Singh. You’re a legend, honestly. It’s a dream come true just being here,” she said, stars in her eyes.

Barry was dumbfounded. If Iris was so thrilled, then why did she put off airs back at DAZZLE that she wasn’t sure this was something she wanted past today?

“You look confused, Mr. Allen. Something I can clear up?”

Barry’s head shot right up. He glanced over at Iris, who was giving him her usual glare - but this one felt oddly specific. Like he better not say anything about how she’d responded to this assignment earlier or she’d cut his balls off.

“No, not at all.”

“Do you have experience?”

“Oh, yes. Lots.” He reached to pull out his resume, but Mr. Singh held up his hand.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Barry’s brows furrowed. “Sir?”

“If you managed to get into this room, then I assume you can get the job done. Freelance photographers are some of my best crew. As long as the two of you don’t cause me any problems, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Well, I won’t, he miraculously kept inside his head.

Mr. Singh patted Iris’ hand and held it in his own.

“With Ms. West being as stunning as she is, I can’t imagine there would ever be a problem working with her.”

Barry held in a sigh.

Finally, Mr. Singh got down to business and pulled out a catalogue and some sketches meant for the line that he wanted to feature Iris in. She was practically glowing, and Barry couldn’t understand it, but he kept quiet, only smiling and nodding when necessary.

By the time Barry and Iris had been given every bit of information they needed in order to successfully achieve the best shots, it was nearing 10 o’clock. Iris was ushered off to the wardrobe department, while Barry was pushed in the opposite direction. Kendra greeted him at the exit.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, Iris is going to get a few shots done here at the studio using our own photographer.”

Barry frowned. “But I was assigned to-”

“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry. We already cleared it with Iris’ boss.”

Barry was still frowning. “So, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Kendra shrugged. “Go on a break? Get some coffee, go for a walk, get a snack? By the time Iris is done, she’ll be going on a lunch break and then the two of you will head over to Hart Park for a shoot with her and some other models.”

“I thought it was just a few shots,” he blanched.

Kendra raised one eyebrow.

“Honey, just how long have you been in this business?”

He sighed and nodded. “Point taken.”

Looking around he saw nothing but the buzz of phones going off and people talking at their cubicles, either on their office phones or with each other.

“Just out of curiosity…which photographer is taking shots of her right now?”

“Hmm?” Kendra looked at him distractedly, now on the phone. He was about to tell her to forget it, but she’d heard the question and was apparently on hold. “Oh, Tony Woodward.”

He paled.

“What?” Her brows furrowed. “Something wrong?”

Barry shook his head in disbelief. “Tony is a photographer?”

“You know him?” Kendra asked, intrigued and setting the phone back in its base.

“You could say that,” he ground out. “He bullied the hell out of me in elementary school.”

“Still bitter?” She propped her chin in her palm.

Barry glanced over at her and realized he was getting a little too riled up, but he couldn’t help it. This was warranted.

“Tony was a pervert and an egomaniac who used his good looks and daddy’s money to get him to graduation. And that was in high school. He never went to college, and I doubt he’s that good of a-”

“He’s actually one of our top photographers,” Mr. Singh said, coming up behind Barry and making him blush. “Best keep your personal opinions to yourself on that topic, Mr. Allen.”

He nodded and swallowed hard. Kendra mouthed ‘sorry’ when he left.

“It’s all right.” Barry waved her off. “I wasn’t being professional.”

“People change,” she offered up.

Barry looked around to make sure Mr. Singh was out of sight.

“Not Tony Woodward.”

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[razorblade180]

Love on the battlefield

(Sheepdog part3)

“Stay!!!”

Three Goliaths stop in place in the middle of the Mantle’s chaotic streets, thanks to Marrow. Weiss’s Gigas then races passed the boy and leaps into the air. Killing all of them with a downward slash.

Marrow:Phew! That’s three more down.

Weiss:Yeah out of like three hundred....

Marrow:Geez, here I thought Hare was a downer.

Elm: “Your comm. is on Marrow......”

Harriet: “It suuuuurrree is.”

Marrow:!!!? Did I say downer I meant......yeah I got nothing. I’m just gonna shut up.

Weiss:It looks like just about evacuated. Should we go help the others?

Marrow:Not yet. Stay here to make sure that airship takes off safely. I’m gonna go check the back streets to make sure there’s no stragglers. *runs off*

Weiss:Understood!

Marrow:*smiling* (Man it’s nice having someone my lead for once.)

His feet kick it into high gear. People needed saving, and it was his job to do it. No way was he about to look bad in front of the rookies. It looked liked area really was clear before-

“Heeeeelllllp!!!” A shrill voice cried just a little further down.

‘There’s always at least one.’ He kept running straight ahead with his head on a swivel. Quickly he noticed a burning house with a door that was shaking. Someone was pounded on it. Marrow picked up the pace and drew Fetch; already reeling back his arm to knock the door down. “Stand clear! I’ll-”

“Wait!!!” Another voice said closely behind him. He turned around to see it was the happy huntress that was injured at the polls. “Hey you’re okay!” The surprise cheerfulness in his voice made the girl smile.

“We don’t know how bad the buildings been damaged. I’ll handle the door.” Until now, Marrow never knew the extent of her injuries or of if was alive. The way she easily out paced him to the door. She wasted no time in placing her hand on it and Marrow was treated to the sight of watching it deconstruct before his eyes. A women holding her son ran out immediately. Both out of breath from the smoke and heat.

Fiona:Anyone else in there? Are you hurt?

Woman:We’re fine. Also no....I was the last one.

Marrow:There’s an airship just outstide this back alley Ma’am that will take you to Atlas. We’ve secured the area so there should be no problem making it there. A huntress will be there to provide you and son more assistance if needed.

Woman:Bless you both. *runs off*

The two of them start making their way back to the main streets. Slowly.....

Marrow:Weiss you got a woman and her son heading your way. You’ll see em it a couple minutes. Make sure they have space on the airship before they arrive. The kid looked a bit out of it.

Weiss:I”’m on it.”

Fiona:Wow, way to take charge.

Marrow:Way to think on your feet. Didn’t think about what might happen if I knocked the door down. Nice going.

Fiona:*red* Yeah....? Oh, I’m uhhh Fiona by the way. *holds hand out*

Marrow:*shaking it* Hi Fiona, I’m Marrow. We kinda met-

Fiona:At the polls? Yeah I remember seeing you, maybe once or twice. You know, before the lights went out and things got....crazy.

Marrow:Yeah. Who would’ve thought it was the beginning to all of this. I’m glad you in particular are helping out. I remember you being in bad shape.

Fiona:Pfft just a scratch. It looked worse than it was.

Marrow:*raises eyebrow*

Fiona:Okay it was kinda bad. I’m fine now though! That’s all what really matters.

Marrow:Guess you’re right. I’m glad.

Fiona:Also.....I got your get well soon note.

Marrow:*blushing* Oh that thing!? I was just, you know, trying to show good faith. Not have too much bad blood between our parties and...stuff.

Fiona:Well I’m not sure how much good it did but I liked the gesture. *blushing* It was sweet. Thank you.

Marrow:No big deal. *unknowingly wags tail*

Fiona:*suppressing laughter* (Trying to play it cool around me huh? I suppose I should take that as a compliment.)

Marrow:I gotta say, I always wondered how Robyn and her crew was always so fast when it comes to giving us the run around. Pretty convenient semblance you have there. A bit on the nose for swiping things don’t think?

Fiona:*smirking* I could say the same thing about you. An enforcer of the law that can get people to freeze? That’s pretty dangerous. I guess the public is lucky you’re such a good boy.

Marrow:How do you know my semblance?

Fiona:You weren’t the only one keeping an eye on people that night. I make it a point to especially keep an eye on....let’s say people of interest.

Marrow:*crimson* Touché. Also, seriously, “good boy?”

Fiona:Hehehe don’t act like you aren’t.

Marrow:I’m just saying I’m a dog faunus. I’m not afraid play rough.

She can’t help but get a little flushed at that remark. Maybe it was because her mind was in the gutter, or maybe it was the sly smirk he gave her that subtly flashed his canines. Fiona couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not, but she was glad it happened.

Fiona:I’ll keep that in mind. Good thing we’re working together; not that I’m worried in the slightest.

Marrow:Oh really? Not to brag but it’s like you said. My semblance is pretty convenient. I bet I could get you to stay around for awhile.

Fiona:*grabs his hand* If you spot me in time. Slip up and I just might steal you away.....

They both stop and look at each other as they approach the street. Their short time for witty comebacks and conversation had reached its end. Yet, neither of them had decided to part ways still. Instead they stared at each other’s coy and faux confident smile; a slight tint of red still on their faces. One was staving of his more reckless behavior while the other tried not to bite her lip as she was enjoying the way she was being looked at. Yeah technically he was still the opposition, but he was cute opposition in Fiona’s eyes.

Fiona:Don’t you got someone you should be reporting to right now?

Marrow:Heh, I could ask you the same question. Pretty sure we both have some orders to follow. Duty calls. *lets go of hand*

Fiona:Don’t get eaten.

Marrow:Don’t get hurt again. I only have so much paper.

Fiona:Oh I’d get another letter.

Marrow:A professional one of course.

Fiona:Obviously, what else? Hehehe.....

Robyn: “I’d hate to ruin a moment but can you please....”

Harriet: “Stop flirting with your comms. on!?”

Marrow and Fiona: *bright red* Y-Yes Ma’am!!!

[khiphop-stories]

Getting Off The Wrong Foot

[Christian Yu | Chapter VII]

Previous Chapters: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI

You were one of the first people to arrive at the filming site. It was an outdoor location today, but the weather looked awful. According to the weather report it was supposed to be sunny day with no precipitation. But in reality, it was the exact opposite. Thick grey clouds hung over the rooftops, darkening the sky. You could hardly even see any blue and only a few rays of sunlight streamed through the cracks in the cloud layer. As you looked up the sky, you felt a single rain drop fall on top your forehead. You knew it was only a matter of time it started pouring down the sky.

As if your hand moved on its own, it dived into your bag and fished out your phone. You quickly made a few calls, informing the staff that the shoot was cancelled until further notice and asked them to spread the word. You also sent home the crew members that were already at the filming site. The only ones left to call was Christian and his team. You dreaded this moment. After what had happened yesterday, you didn’t have the confidence to talk to him. But in the end it didn’t matter what you wanted to do or didn’t want to do, you had to keep up your professionalism. You couldn’t just stop working with someone because you had some differences. If that were the case you would already be unemployed. You called their manager’s number first, hoping you would be able to avoid directly talking to Christian. It was a cowardish move, but you didn’t care. Joo Won was friendly and understanding. He assured you he would let the others know.

Just a few minutes later you received an incoming call from Joo Won again. “Hey Minhee, I can’t reach Christian. He’s probably still driving that’s why he’s not picking up. He left early, so he should be there soon.“

“Ok, I’ll wait for him and tell him myself then. Thanks, Joo Won.“

Well, your plan to avoid him as long as possible was just flushed down toilet.

~*~

Christian arrived shortly after the call. He let his eyes wander around the location, before they rested on you. Since he didn’t see any staff members nor any props around, he already guessed it. 

“Shoot’s cancelled, huh?“ 

“Yeah, the weather’s too bad. I don’t think we can shoot under this condition and it’ll probably start raining soon.“

Just as if the rain was waiting for you cue, it started pouring it that very moment. Without exchanging further words, you both quickly looked for shelter under a building. 

The awkward silence that surrounded the two of you was killing you. It made you even more uncomfortable than you felt before, if that was even possible.

“Christian…,” you decided to break the silence. It wasn’t going to work this way. You wouldn’t be able to work together if there was still this awkwardness lingering between you.  He turned his attention away from the sky and looked at you, his eyebrows cocked up.

“Look, I’m sorry—“

“You don’t have to apologize...not for his bevahior,“ he quickly cut you off, the frown on his face easing up and the corner of his lips raised to a smile. You blinked your eyes at him in confusion, not understanding where the sudden change was coming from. What he was saying now wasn’t making any sense, considering how the last conversation you had with him ended.

“Bu you were really angry yesterday...“ “I was angry,“ he admitted with a nod, yet his voice was tender, not an even ounce of animosity could be found. “But not at you. I was just mad that we lost the deal and I lashed out at you.“

“But it kinda was my fau—“

“No, it wasn’t. I overreacted.“

“But maybe you were right. I blamed it all on Kiseok, but maybe the problem was me all along? Maybe I sucked at being the girlfriend and that’s why he cheated on me. Maybe I deserved it.“

The expression on Christian’s face turned serious. His gaze pierced through you and he spoke slowly as though you were having a hard time understanding him.

“You are not responsible for the way he acts. Don’t even think for a second it’s your fault. I said stupid things yesterday because I was angry. I didn’t mean it.“

You remained silent for a while, letting his words sink in. You replayed everything that had happened the past few months, trying to understand where things went wrong. 

“Min,“ he called you softly, pulling you back to reality. 

“It just doesn’t make sense,“ you shook your head. You were so deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how your vision had slowly blurred as tears shot into your eyes.

“Come here.“ Christian reached out and gently pulled you into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close, rubbing your back comfortingly. The feel of his body so close to yours soothed you more than you had expected. 

“I’m sorry,“ you mumbled into his chest. “I don’t know why I always break down in front of you.” You exhaled slowly, trying your best to calm yourself. You weren’t usually that emotional. You were the type of person who wouldn’t even shed a tear during the most emotional scenes in movies. But lately, all you did was having emotional breakdowns, most of them in front of Christian.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind,“ he chuckled softy as he ran his fingers through your hair.  He must have thought you were a pathetic crybaby, but there was something about him that made you feel so reassured, that you didn’t have to be ashamed of your feelings and that you didn’t have to hide them in front of him. “You must think I’m a huge mess,” you let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah...well, but we all are in some way or another.“ His words were comforting to hear. When he noticed that you had somewhat calmed down, he released you from his hug. 

“Did you already have breakfast?“ He asked you out of the blue. You shook your head in response

„Let’s grab something to eat then.“

~*~

[Time leap]

“I got the pictures from the shoot,“ you told him as you were waiting for your orders.

“How did they turn out?“ He asked you excitedly, his full attention on you. You liked his enthusiasm, it seemed as though he was just as excited as you about all the good things that were happening to you. But it wasn’t that fake interest people always showed you, he seemed to be genuinely happy for you. “Well, I barely recognize myself with all the photoshop, but they look good...just not like me,“ you joked with a chuckle. You took your phone that was lying on the table into your hands and scrolled through your photos to show him the pictures. “They want me to choose some, but they kinda look all the same to me. I might need a professional pair of eyes.“

“Show me,“ he held his hand out. You gave him your phone and watched him quietly as he looked through the pictures. You grew a bit nervous as he wasn’t commenting on any of the pictures. You expected him to at least make fun of you a little bit.

“I would have done it differently,“ he remarked, his eyes still fixed on the screen of your phone.

“How?“ You asked while you were preparing yourself for all the criticism that would probably be coming your way. But instead of criticizing you, he analyzed the work of the photographer. “Well, for starters I wouldn’t have put that much photoshop. You’re pretty as you are. You don’t need that shit. And I would have tried to shoot with natural, warmer light, because that enhances your features,“ he said it so nonchalant, as though he was talking about the weather. Those compliments always left his lips like they were nothing. Maybe he didn’t mean anything either, maybe he was just passionate about photography and he was commenting from an objective point of view. Maybe he was just a professional critiquing someone else’s work. “You should have shot me then,“ you said jokingly with a laugh.

“I would love to,“ he smiled, his eyes turning to you. The look on his face was so soft, it made you feel so comfortable around him, but at the same time it also made you feel  incredibly nervous. You could feel the blood rushing through your veins, heating up your body. Your cheeks felt awfully hot, you were probably as red as a tomato by now.

“Well, I still need to choose some pictures,” you tried to guide the conversation into a different direction before he would notice how embarrassed you were. “This one is the best,“ he pulled his chair closer to you and showed you the photograph.

“This one? Really?“ You looked at the picture and then turned your eyes to him, giving him a look of disbelief. You definitely wouldn’t have chosen that one as your favorite.  “You were a bit stiff, but this one looks the most natural. I like your smile there“ “I know, I’m not a model,“ you accepted his criticism with a laugh. “You could be with your face and measurements.“ “How would you know my measurements?“ “I saw you naked, remember?“ He wriggled his brows at you playfully. “Ok, you need to stop, Christian. You making me blush.“ You pressed the back of your hands, which where still cold from standing outside, on your warm cheeks, trying to cool them down.

Christian licked his lips as a grin appeared on his face, his eye following every of your movements. He loved teasing you, because of the reaction he always got from you. He liked being the one making you blush.

“I’m just saying the truth. You’re not that used to getting compliments, are you?“ “You’re doing it far too often,” you argued.

“Really? I’m even holding back right now. I mean could go on and on how pretty you look in that picture and how beautiful you look right now.“

“You’re a real smooth talker, Christian,” you rolled your eyes. You didn’t take his compliments serious any more as you assumed he was only teasing you.  “That’s why girls like you, because you make them feel special and important.”

“You didn’t receive many compliments from him, did you?“

You shook your head in response. You did get compliments from Kiseok sometimes. But most of the time he either wanted a favor from you or he wanted to get into your pants. So those compliments never really meant a lot to you.

“Man, Kiseok must have really fucked you up. If you were my girl, I would tell you how beautiful you are every single day.“ You felt your heart skip a beat, almost as though it would jump right out of your chest. You stared at him. For a brief moment, you imagined what dating him would be like. Never did it even cross your mind that you would ever start something serious with him. But now that you were visualizing it, you didn’t hate the idea that much either.

„Ok, that’s enough. Shut up, Christian,“ you rolled your eyes at him, letting out a nervous chuckle.

~*~

You resumed shooting two days after and lasted for another two days. The shooting went by smoothly and you wrapped up early. It was very apparent that Dabin had experience in shooting music videos. He was comfortable in front the camera and his acting was good as well. He seemed to trust Christian completely. He followed his instructions well and never questioned his direction. As you finished filming the last scene, one of the crew members suggested to go out for drinks to celebrate the past days of hard work. You liked the idea and encouraged your own team to join them, but you didn’t have that much interest in going yourself. You were tired from the lack of sleep and your legs were hurting from standing all day. You just wanted to go home, take a long hot bath and then go straight to bed. Despite your initial reluctance you somehow let Christian and Dabin talk you into joining them. Since you didn’t have to work tomorrow as it was a Sunday, you didn’t have much of an excuse not to go.

So, now here you were, at some bar in Hongdae chatting and playing drinking games which you obviously sucked at, knowing that this would end in a bad hangover the next day. Nonetheless you were having an awful lot of fun. You were almost sad that you would probably not see this team again after this evening since they were people Nike hired and employed. You had grown quite fond of them. 

Since there way way too many people in the team, you had to spread out to different tables. You sat with a few DPR members and the hair and makeup team. Christian, of course, got dragged to the models’ table and he seemed to be enjoying the attention he was getting there. You didn’t pay much attention to him. You were immersed in the conversations you were having, however occasionally, your eyes and his would meet. He held the gaze and every time his lips would curl up into a warm smile. You were always the first one to look away. You didn’t really like what you were seeing. It wasn’t jealousy, at least that’s what you believed. It was the way he was acting. He did his reputation full justice - the charming ladies’ man who could talk is way into anything he wanted. Right now he was behaving like someone who you would naturally avoid. You were judgmental when you first met him, yet he made you quickly let your guards down. However, seeing him like this, made you question him once again. Just what kind of person was he?

The conversation at your table had taken another direction and now the girls were talking about men they found attractive while the guys were trying to understand their taste, albeit not agreeing. 

“Objectively, Christian’s hella good looking fella,“ Scott then said when asked to give an example of whom he taught was good looking. All the girls at the table agreed in unison swooning over him, but you.

“You don’t think so?“ Dabin gently nudged your ribs teasingly. “You’d be the first.” “I mean, yeah he’s hot, but not the type of guy I personally would date,“ you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Why not?“ You heard Christian say. You quickly turned to the direction of his voice, your eyes widening in surprise. He was standing right next to you, his eyes staring down at you. He took a chair from another table and placed it down next to you, as he took a seat.

You didn’t get the chance to answer as the topic was changed again. But Christian wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. “So…why not?“ He asked you again in a lowered voice, so only you could hear.

“You’re not really boyfriend material.“

“Why not?“ He insisted. 

“Well, you’re too popular with girls, I wouldn’t be able to trust you.“ “I’m not Kiseok.“ “I know, I-I just…“ you stuttered, not really knowing what you were even trying to say. “I mean you’re not even looking for something serious. You’re the fleeting type of guy.“ “So your opinion on me still hasn’t changed, huh?“ The tone in his voice sounded bitter.

“That’s not what I meant, Christian,” you quickly threw in, worried that you might have hurt his feelings.

“You’re an amazing friend. You’re sweet, attentive, a good listener. I just don’t see you settling down any time soon and I just don’t see myself starting a relationship with someone who’s not ready yet. Nothing against you... a-and this is just hypothetical anyway. It’s not like anything’s gonna happen, right?“

The expression on his face suddenly changed, a huge grin covering the lower half of his face. “I’m just playing with you,“ he broke out into a hearty laughter. “You don’t need to explain yourself.“

You rolled your eyes and punched his arm in retaliation. For a brief moment, you really thought you had hurt his feelings. 

~*~

Although you didn’t want to be here in the first place, you were one of the people who stayed the longest. The bar slowly emptied and there were only a few people left. Christian was one of them, but he was also about to head home. He bid goodbye to the team and then walked up to you.

“Want me to drop your off at home? You drank quite a bit.“

“I drank way too much,” you giggled. “But you did too, you can’t drive.”

“I drank one beer when we first got here and then I had soda.“

“Really?“ You furrowed your brows at him skeptically. You were under the impression that he had drunk a lot. There were so many empty bottles at the table he sat at. 

“I wouldn’t drive under the influence.” “If that’s the case, then yes,” you smiled at him from eye to eye.

~*~

Christian dropped you off in front of your house. You turned around to watch him leave, but it turned out he was still parking at the same spot. You waved at him and motioned him to roll down the window which he did.

“Why are you still here?” “I won’t leave until your ass passed that door,” he pointed to the entrance. “What? You think I’m gonna get abducted here? In this few seconds?”

“Just go,” he smiled.

You walked towards the door, one hand rummaging through your back in search for your keys. But they were not where they were supposed to be. 

“Shit,” you cursed as you kneeled down, placing your bag on the the concrete floor, using both of your hands to search for your keys. Knowing that Christian was still there and most likely watching you, made you even more nervous. Your desperation grew as you just couldn’t find them. That’s when you remember where you had put them. They were still on your desk in the office.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You muttered under your breath. With a long sigh of defeat, you got up and walked to his car. Upon seeing you approaching, he rolled down his window again.

“I forgot my keys in the office,” you muttered under your breath, your cheeks turning a pinkish hue out of embarrassment. You bit down on your bottom lips, avoiding his gaze.

“Your office is like on the other side of the city,” Christian remarked drily.

”I know, I know. You don’t have to drive me, I’ll just take a cab.” ”Not an option,” he shook his head firmly. “Get in.”

Before he started the engine, he turned to you again as though a bright idea had just come to his mind.

“Wanna crash at my place?”

[gunnerpalace]

How You Fix Orihime and Chad’s Character Development

Star Trek: The Original Series. That’s it, really.

Now, hold on, let me explain!

So let us for a moment assume that Orihime, Chad, and Uryuu as a trio comprise the main cast of “The Humans” in Bleach. Let us then try applying the Kirk-Spock-Bones model onto their trio.

Now, before we go any further, it’s important to note that Kirk was not Zapp Brannigan. That’s bullshit. You can go read a big long essay on the matter if you really want to dive into it. Kirk was not hot-headed, impulsive, or a womanizer. But the relevant bit to our discussion is this:

The existence of Spock, with his easily classifiable intelligence and over-egged rationality, blinds people to Kirk’s persistent, demonstrated, textually-flagged extreme professionalism and competence:

PORTMASTER STONE: Now, look, Jim. Not one man in a million could do what you and I have done: command a starship. A hundred decisions a day, hundreds of lives staked on you making every one of them right.

Stone is not simply discussing nerve (though Kirk has, via training and self-control, developed an extraordinary capacity for operating under pressure). He’s referring also to the vast array of knowledge at Kirk’s fingertips, to his ability to evaluate specialist counsel and make good decisions quickly in a crisis, and to his dedication to and concern for his ship and its people. Kirk is the only one, even over Spock, capable of resisting the influence of a deranging virus in order to protect the ship in “The Naked Time.”

Rash? Kirk is obsessively protective, hesitant to destroy the Enterprise and its crew even when it would be safer for the galaxy for him to do so (“By Any Other Name”). This is in fact about the only time he’s “rash”. He makes an objectively bad decision in order to protect the ship. It’s not a lapse he often repeats, and he almost didn’t allow sentiment to cloud his judgment on this occasion either.

It works out in the end due to Kirk’s cunning, not Spock’s genius. As clever as Spock is, he’s not the superior multi-tasking problem solver. That’s the whole point of Kirk, and Spock respects him and his work. In “The Ultimate Computer,” when technological innovation threatens to replace living captains (Kirk included), Spock is immensely supportive of Kirk. He highlights Kirk’s leadership, suggesting that he, Spock-the-computer-expert, trusts Kirk’s personal judgment more than that of even the most advanced machines:

KIRK: Machine over man, Spock? It was impressive. It might even be practical. SPOCK: Practical, Captain? Perhaps. But not desirable. Computers make excellent and efficient servants, but I have no wish to serve under them. Captain, the starship also runs on loyalty to one man, and nothing can replace it, or him.

If Kirk takes a “leap of faith” in situations, it’s because the other choice is to sit still and die. In fact you could argue that it’s Spock who sometimes behaves irrationally in TOS, prioritising Kirk over the safety of the Enterprise in "The Tholian Web," questing endlessly to find him in “The Paradise Syndrome,” and making a desperate last-ditch effort to signal the Enterprise with limited resources (rather than preserving these in order to marginally extend the lives of everyone on board a failing shuttle craft) in “The Galileo Seven” (an episode I hate so much we’d need another damn essay).

[...]

Face it: Kirk is a big nerd who punches people sometimes, but also memorises poetry and has nice chats with Spock’s mom and loves the ship intensely.

Okay, why am I talking about Kirk (and, by proxy, Spock) so much? 

Let’s go back to trying to fit Uryuu, Orihime, and Chad, to Kirk, Spock, and Bones.

You might initially say that Uryuu is obviously Spock. You would be wrong. Uryuu is Bones. Uryuu’s whole thing isn’t logic, it’s principles. He is Mr. Principled. He got that from Souken. It animates everything he does. Sure, he can plan in advance and think things through, but even when he does that he tends to engage in some kinda dumbassery (e.g., fighting against Renji and Byakuya wildly outgunned to try and save Rukia, telling Kisuke to fix up Ichigo, deciding to go to Soul Society whatever the cost, going on a suicide mission to stop Yhwach, etc.) that is motivated by his sense of morality and ethics. He is, among the humans, the voice of common decency more so than he is the voice of rationality.

That means that Chad is Spock. In chapter 35, when Ichigo scored 23rd in their grade, Chad scored 11th. Uryuu scored 1st, and Orihime scored 3rd, so Chad is not absolutely the smartest academically, but he is often much more sober-minded and analytical than they are; he’s also street smart. (Orihime and Uryuu are both prone to flights of fancy; Chad’s only real weakness in terms of distractions is “cute things.”) This carries through in how Chad fights and understands things, which tends to be very cold and analytical. (Consider how easily he cut through Ichigo’s act about not missing being a Shinigami in the Xcution arc, or how quickly he suggested in TYBW to Kisuke that if Ichigo was allowed to do what he wanted, he might run away.)

And that leaves us with Orihime, who must, by process of elimination, be the Kirk of the group. And although that might sound surprising, go back to that final line of the description again: “Face it: Kirk is a big nerd who punches people sometimes, but also memorises poetry and has nice chats with Spock’s mom and loves the ship intensely.” Who does that sound like? Who showed grit and determination and rose to the occasion in the Numb Chandelier fight? Orihime. Who thought fast on her feet after landing in the bizarro-land of Soul Society and came up with the plan of using shihakushou as disguises? Orihime. Even Orihime’s plan to reject the Hougyoku out of existence was fairly decisive. Orihime is, early on anyway, quite capable of coming up with good and objectively correct plans, if ones often thwarted by the narrative.

So, from this, we can say something about how these characters should have developed. Uryuu basically grows about how you’d expect him to, letting go of his (supposed) hatred of Shinigami. Chad and Orihime... don’t. But this model makes it easy to see how they should’ve.

Chad should have become more vocal and forthright with his observations and analyses. He should have become the logical one who suggested plans of action on the basis of rationality, to be informed by Uryuu’s principled nature.

Orihime should have become more mature and decisive, gaining a tighter rein over her emotions but still using her creativity to make clutch command decisions with the input of her peers. Rather than routinely breaking down and thinking selfishly, she should’ve shown sober insight into what needed to be done which balanced logic and compassion; good, clear, and surprisingly nonlinear judgement.

What we actually got from both of them was the exact opposite. Their development went precisely the other direction, the point that when they were hit by the equivalent of a “deranging virus” in the form of Tsukishima’s powers, they both completely folded.

Note that I am not saying they should be identical to these model characters, but that this model provides a means to see roughly where they should’ve gone. Uryuu was The Principled One, Chad should have been The Logical One, and Orihime should have been The Decisive One.

Also, if you expand this analysis out a little bit, this becomes clear too:

Tatsuki:Sulu

Keigo:Chekov

Mizurio:Uhura/Scotty

I’m just saying.

(P.S. Sulu eventually got to captain his own ship, so, I mean, I’m just sayin’.)

[wolferals]

audition

Arón Piper imagine

*

saturday, january 18th 11:22pm • Today was Monday, August 22nd and all I've seen since 8am were wannabe actors reading their stupid lines to us pretending they were fucking Johnny Depp himself. God I was so sick of it, but since I've been grounded my dad made me cast people for this movie he was going to direct. Why were you grounded, you may ask. Well let's say, we just moved to Madrid basically to the end of the world since I grew up in America all my life. Yeah, my first days of school didnt really turn out to be super great, my english teacher was super racist in my opinion. She kept making „jokes" about my country/ and at some point i just snapped and told her how she dared to be so fucking racist. My class agreed with me yet my teacher didnt and put me in detention first and then called my dad. So yeah, thats why he's making me do this.

Some might think, its not a punishment to cast people for a „super cool movie" but have u ever been in a all white room for 10 hours listening to the same sentences over and over, being read by the worst people ever? No, exactly.

Its been exactly 4 hours now, its been around 12 when we decided to take a short break to get some food. I walked around the building for a while, grabbed a iced coffee at the bar and then sat down on a couch in the foyer to immediately text my friends from back home about how horrible i was feeling.

I didnt even get to text 5 words until my dad came around the corner saying something like:"Y/n, lets go. The people wont cast themselves. I mean they'd love to but that's our job." He then laughed loudly and almost couldnt stop. One thing about my dad: He thinks he's hilarious but in my opinion he's a little too full of himself. No offense, i love him of course.

Therefore I walked back to the cruel looking white room and sat down on my chair sipping my iced coffee. „Alright, next up, we have a Joshua Hamilton reading for the part of Jamey." I rolled my eyes. Yet again another Jamey. Ive heard the line:"No way Daniel, are you insane?! Have you even thought about the fact that you could get fucking killed?" about 50 times today.

And to be honest, the only person i'd like to get killed right now would be myself.

„Hello, my name is Joshua Hamilton, I'm 22 years old and I'll be reading for the part of Jamey." The tall, skinny looking guy then spoke after *extremely happy looking* entered the room. Well no offense but super happy people make me puke.

He then read his lines, horribly. He was just too enthusiastic and grinning through the entire thing. It was supposed to be a mad Jamey yelling at his brother who was about to attack his ex girlfriend's killer.

Dad then told him, they will call him. But lets be honest here, obviously they wont. • Alright so another 4 hours passed and we had almost all important characters casted, except Jamey. The crew was getting impatient and we were all super tired. „Dad how many are left?" I then asked because I wanted nothing more than this to end. „26." he answered, sounding annoyed. So was I. „Jeez, for fucks sake." I exclaimed and leaned back in my chair. „Y/n, watch your language!" He scoffed and took a sip of his water before leaning back as well.

„Okay next off we have a Arón Piper. He is Spanish-German, which wouldnt quite match with the way we pictured Jamey. But lets get the guy, kay?" Evan, the producer spoke after reading some reviews.

„Mhm." my Dad hummed. He seemed extremely tired and messed up to be fair.

As I said, I was annoyed and super damn hungry but the second this guy walked in, all my senses were on and I couldnt help but stare at him. He was tall, had curly hair, an earring on his left ear, chocolate brown eyes and a smile that could kill. „Hola,, I'm Arón." My dad seemed to like him too because he sat up straight scanning him up and down. „How old are you Arón?" Lucy, the executive producer asked him, smiling as well. „I'm 23." The handsome guy answered calm and sent me his billion dollar smile.

fuck • I smiled back and for whatever fucking reason I just said:"You must be working out, am I right?" Everyone looked at me but I didnt care, I just looked him right in the eyes and saw him laugh. „Y/n what the hell?" My dad whispered sounding pissed yet confused. „Jamey is a fit dude, he goes to the gym 6 times a week. We have to consider the fact that the actor has to be healthy and all as well." I tried to get out of the weird situation but actually I was just wishing for him to take off his shirt to show us -okay, me- his amazing abs I bet he had. „Uhm to be honest, I just dance, thats it. But you could call that a work out since Ive been doing it since I was 7 years old."

The others seemed impressed too, so Lucy cockily said:"So if acting wouldnt work, youd become a professional dancer?" Arón laughed again and answered:"Yeah, probably. But i havent even read my lines yet."

The entire time he was acting his lines, I was just staring at his god like face, every emotion, every move, every little change in his body language was perfect. My dad looked like he was impressed too and he then, after Arón had finished, spoke:"Thank you, Arón. That was amazing!" He smiled happily and answered fully paying attention:"Oh gracias, it means so much coming from you!" He walked up to my dad to shake his hand and then took back his portfolio. „Honey what do you think? Should we put him in round 2?" I looked over to my dad, took a glance at Arón who was smiling cutely at me. „Nah."

Everyone gave me a confused look and in Arón´s eyes I could see pure fear.

„I think we should give him the part.“

My dad smiled, nodded at me and then spoke:“Alright, Arón Piper, congratulations.“

Arón walked over to me and stuck his hand out for me to shake it. I slowly took his hand and, okay that might sound weird, but it felt so damn good to touch him. God I sound like a creep. No but for real his hand was a lot bigger than mine and really warm compared to my -always cold- claws. „Gracias." he said quietly and stared directly into my eyes while smiling. I wanted to say something like:"Of course, you deserve it, you were amazing." but i just couldnt, i wasnt able to look anywhere but into his beautiful brown eyes.

My dad saw that and cleared his throat loudly. „Thank you again Arón, we will call you next week for further information. But for now, since Jamey is the main male protagonist and we will be filming most of the scenes with you, we'd like to invite you and the other main actors to a dinner party tomorrow night. We hope you're free and we would text you further dates later on today."

-„Yes I'm free, that'd be amazing! Thank you so much! See you tomorrow then, bye guys." He grabbed his jacket from off the floor and left the room smiling brightly.

-„We've got it! We found, first of all the perfect Jamey, and we finally have all the actors, people!" Lucy shouted and sighed relieved. „Alright then, lets celebrate!" My dad exclaimed happily and the others stood up after him. „I'll be right out, I'll go to the bathroom real quick." I informed the guys and just simply hit the bathroom next to the audition room. When i checked back to see if the room had been locked, I noticed that a portfolio book was left on the table. I grabbed it, opened it and and noticed it was Arón's.

Right, he grabbed it before, then shook our hands and put it down again. Then he walked out without it.

So I quickly locked the door and ran through the building, past my dad saying:"Be right back." I figured, Arón couldnt have gotten very far, so I sprinted down the stairs, out of the front door of the building and i looked around if I might spot him. I then saw a guy that looked like him walking down the street towards a silver car and i ran as fast as i could to reach him.

„Arón!" I yelled and stopped once I finally reached him. „Yeah?" he was about to get in the car but turned around. „You forgot that." I passed him his book and tried to catch my breath real quick. „Oh god, thank you! I totally forgot about that. Gracias." He took it smiling.

While I was trying to breath, he opened the car door and said:"Just a second." Me, still dying from all the running, I was now leaning against a wall. „You okay?" -„Huh? Yeah. Im.. good." I was kind of embarrassed at how unathletic i was. „U sure?" he came closer and looked actually quite concerned. „Ya dont worry. Uhm.. See you.. tomorrow..at the.. party?" i tried to play it off and stood straight again Arón smiled again and answered:"Of course. Cant wait!" He then walked back to the car and sent me another smile before getting in.

Damn, this guy.

[padawanprotege]

Rescued from a Watery Demise

Hi everyone, I hope you are all doing well and are safe. Being a little obsessed with the lovely @queenofbeskar​ ‘s Jedi OC Tiin, I decided to write another short fic focusing on their developing friendship and shared interests.

Soft footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the Jedi Cruiser as Ayelet Ebele slowly wandered along the long hallways of the Venator, known as The Sunset. During their departure from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Jedi Master Tiin Orat had invited the young knight to accompany her on the Cruiser to their destination. Although she thoroughly enjoyed the company of the men that served her, she couldn’t refuse an offer to spend more time with another Jedi. Especially when the journey was estimated to take 4 days to reach the outer rim planet. It would undoubtedly be refreshing to see a different face to the identical one shared by all her troops.

It was strange wandering through the colourful corridors of The Sunset. Although the layout of the ship was identical to her own and similarly filled with clones, the emotions radiating off the crew aboard the vessel was unexpectedly different. Amongst her own troops, she had always sensed a deep level of respect and loyalty to herself and her commander. The crew aboard the Sunset also showed respect and loyalty to their commanding officers but when it came to Master Orat the feeling was similar to the maternal bond that a young initiate might share with their crèche master.

Although the odd maternal feelings surrounding the clone troopers was strange to Ayelet, she reminded herself of the same motherly aura that surrounded Tiin when they had met in the Jedi Temple earlier in the day. “Perhaps Master Orat encourages this feeling to strengthen their loyalty. Or maybe it helps her troops perform better if they all feel more connected with one another through her. Or maybe she just wants to be part of a family.” Ayelet silently mused to herself as she made her way towards a nearby elevator, reflecting upon her own longing for the familiar presence of her master and his former student that had become like a family to her during her padawan years.

Pushing the thoughts from her mind with a single deep breath, Ayelet closed the space between herself and the elevator, pressing the button to summon the lift with purpose. With the High Council watching her performance closely during this mission it was imperative that everything was done correctly to prove she was a competent leader and her early knighthood was not a mistake. Once Ayelet could reach the bridge she could begin strategizing the best course of action to ensure their success.

As the heavy metal doors hissed opened, Ayelet took one step towards the elevator before being physically stopped by a solid object ahead of her. “Had I been too occupied with my thought to notice myself walking straight into a wall” Ayelet chided herself as she took a small step backwards to see what it was, she had bumped into, her hand placed tentatively upon her head on the spot she had made impact.

To her surprise when she looked up Ayelet did not see a solid durasteel wall as expected but was instead met with the kind smile of the Zabrak hybrid Jedi that had been occupying her thoughts. Quickly backing up a few steps, Ayelet bowed deeply to the Jedi Master before her as a string of apologies fell from her lips. “My deepest apologies Master Orat. I didn’t mean to bump into you in such a way. I’m sorry. I was so lost in my train of thought I hadn’t checked if anyone was in the elevator.” The words poured out as Ayelet kept her eye line fixated on the dull grey floor beneath them. A reassuring hand on her shoulder silenced her before she could continue apologising, causing Ayelet’s eyes to slowly venture up to view Tiin’s face.

Master Tiin’s gaze lingered on Ayelet, although hidden behind a mask, Ayelet knew that Master Orat was staring into her eyes. “Knight Ebele, it’s quite alright. The fault is mine.” Tiin said, her smile never faltering as she spoke and her voice was filled with a type of compassion Ayelet was used to hearing from her own master, "Perhaps that’s what happens when you become a Jedi Master", Ayelet thought before pushing the sudden idea from her mind to bring her focus back to Master Orat. As if sensing Ayelet’s incoming barrage of apologies and insistence on the fault being her own, Tiin took a step closer to Ayelet while moving her hand behind Ayelet to turn her in the same direction she was facing. “I was actually on my way to come and find you.” Tiin continued as she urged Ayelet forward by placing a small amount of pressure on Ayelet’s back.

Slightly confused but compliant, Ayelet followed Tiin’s lead while sparing a glance back towards the now closed elevator. “Shouldn’t we be on the bridge Master Orat? We should be studying the separatist movements and strategizing our plan of attack.” Ayelet questioned the Zabrak as they walked down the brightly coloured corridor, her gaze turning up to look expectantly at the Jedi Master.

The tall Jedi looked down at the young knight, her kind smile still in place as she answered. “We have a long journey ahead of us. There is still plenty of time for all of that. And please, call me Tiin, there’s no need to be so professional when we’re away from the watchful eyes of the council.” Despite Tiin’s voice being loud, it was soothing to the ear, quelling Ayelet’s worries about being underprepared almost instantly.

The two Jedi walked in a comfortable silence along the corridor. Ayelet’s eyes focusing on the numerous artworks scattered across the walls of the hallway. Her own men had decorated the gunships with simple artworks and insignias but nothing as intricate as the designs around her.

Ayelet heard Tiin’s heavy footsteps slow to a halt beside her causing her to stop herself and look back at the tall Jedi. With a few presses into the keypad, the door beside them hissed open, revealing a dark room within.

As the doors opened, a familiar earthy aroma escaped the lightless quarters, a scent that immediately made Ayelet relax. Entering the room first and taking a few deep breaths to enjoy the comforting smell. Despite the dimmed light, Ayelet’s eyes could clearly see the detailed paintings that covered the walls in the same style as the artworks scattered around the Cruiser. Each delicate brushstroke flowed into the next creating a coherent piece that stretched the room. The cot was neatly made, with a fluffy blanket thrown across and multiple pillows stacked atop one another. Tiin’s desk glowed a soft blue from the Jedi Holocron placed upon it and a few discarded datapads left in a pile in the centre of the table.

Ayelet felt herself halt in the centre of the room when her eyes landed on the three small succulents sat upon Tiin’s desk. The simple white pots that they sat within shone brightly in the glow of the Holocron. Despite the low lighting in the room, Ayelet could see that although the pots were in good condition the plants themselves were not. Crossing the small distance between her position and the desk, Ayelet stood beside the table to look closely upon the wilting flora.

Gently lifting up one of the pots and cradling it in both hands, Ayelet turned herself towards the doorway at the sound of the Jedi Master’s voice. “It’s a shame they haven’t adapted well to their new home,” Tiin said, her tone was sombre now as she moved to stand next to the young knight, her hands moving up to her face to remove the protective mask she wore from her eyes, revealing the glowing pink irises beneath.

Ayelet watched as Tiin gently placed down the mask and picked up one of the ceramic pots, dwarfed by the size of her large hands. “I’d bought them from a stall on Lan Barell. You would love it there. An entire world covered in Cacti ranging in size and shapes and colours.” The small smile present on Tiin’s lips as she spoke was contagious, causing a smile to grow on Ayelet’s face as she listened intently to Tiin’s story, her right hand moving up to gently stroke the green and red-tinged leaves between her thumb and finger.

Tiin crossed the room to sit upon the soft blanket on her cot, holding the small cacti closer to her chest, almost as though shielding it from the outside world, as she continued speaking. “The merchant said they would adapt well to frequent exposure to hyperspace.” Tiin paused as her gaze shifted down from Ayelet to focus solely on the succulent in her grasp. “Guess he was wrong” Tiin’s voice grew more sorrowful as she continued, her eyes fixated on the discoloured cacti. “I’ve given them extra water to try and help them grow better, but nothing seems to work. I suppose they just weren’t meant to survive in space.”

Ayelet struggled to stifle a laugh as Tiin finished her sombre story. It wasn’t fair to Tiin to laugh at her misfortune. She watched as the Zabrak hybrid's stare quickly shifted from the wilting plant in her hands to the young knight at the sound of the muffled laughter. Ayelet’s face dropped its cheerful expression upon feeling Tiin’s gaze. “I should have tried harder to control myself.” Ayelet scolded herself silently as her eyes dropped down to the fragile succulent in her own hands, no longer willing to meet Tiin’s offended gaze.

“These plants can survive in space. All three of them are very resilient and can survive most environments with correct care. They are able to store large amounts of water to keep themselves alive for extended periods of time without exposure to rain, and they have adapted to survive without exposure to direct sunlight.” Ayelet began explaining, her eyes staying focused on the plant in her hands, her thin fingers still gently running across the surface of the weak leaves.

She had felt the problem the plants were facing the moment she picked up the pot. Both the force surrounding the struggling flora and her extensive studies in botany had made the issue obvious to the young knight. “Since they store water, they do not need regular watering like most plants. Their soil, particularly in an environment such as this should be kept mostly dry.” Ayelet continued, her mind already formulating the best way to restore the wilting succulents back to full health.

Slowly shifting her focus away from the plant and up to Tiin. She immediately noticed the blank stare covering her face and the clear lack of understanding in her lingering gaze. Moving her hold on the pot slightly she tipped the ceramic container to the side, allowing the overflow of water stored in the pot to drip to the floor. The sound of the steady stream of water hitting the durasteel flooring echoing in the otherwise quiet room. “Tiin, you’re drowning them. The excessive watering has caused their roots to start rotting. That’s why they’ve changed colour and feel so fragile.” Ayelet clarified more simply in the hope that Tiin would understand the problem.

Ayelet watched in silent anticipation as Tiin shifted her gaze between the plant in her grasp and the puddle of water on the ground. The silence that filled the room was shattered at the sound of Tiin’s booming laughter that echoed in the closed space. Ayelet felt herself release a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding at the sound of Tiin’s joyful laughter. “And all this time I thought that Rodian was just trying to scam me of my credits.” Tiin chuckled as she brought her eyeline up to meet Ayelet’s. “You are quite wise for your age, Ayelet.” Tiin continued as she looked back down at the plant in her grasp while rising to her feet to stand in front of the young knight.

“Not nearly as wise as you surely are, Master,” Ayelet replied, her tone momentarily professional as she craned her neck back to meet Tiin’s gaze, a small but genuine smile present on her face as she spoke.

“Perhaps in some areas, but clearly not botany,” Tiin said, a playful smile on her lips as she moved the pot in the same manner as Ayelet had previously done, her eyes moving downwards to watch the stream of dirty water spill over the rim of the pot and splash into the puddle underneath.

Moving to sit back down atop the soft blanket on her cot, Tiin gestured with her free hand for Ayelet to join her, “Your studies have served you well. You have saved these three from a watery demise. Please, tell me more.” The intrigue and yearning for knowledge that filled Tiin’s gaze rid any thought of leaving from Ayelet’s mind. Within seconds, Ayelet had crossed the room and settled herself beside Tiin on the bed as she began explaining the proper care that the succulents would need to survive. Having the opportunity to discuss her favourite subject with someone genuinely interested in what she had to say left Ayelet with a feeling of excitement she couldn’t contain as the smile plastered on her face grew with every word that left her mouth

[sangria-sheeran]

The Calm—Chapter 3

Hi remember me? I used to write this story but then school got super crazy and I didn’t have time, but I really love it and want to keep writing. Here’s the next chapter! I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“How do you always manage to get yourself into these crazy situations, Cass,” my best friend Lexi rolls her eyes.

We’re sitting in the back of an Uber weaving through traffic. I told her about what happened with Ed, and she agreed to come with me. It’s a little past eight. My mom wasn’t even home from work yet so she has no idea I’m gone—but it’s not like she’ll care anyway.

“What do you mean?” I question her. “This kind of shit never happens to me.”

I’m looking out the window. Traffic is relatively heavy compared to most nights. Is it because of the show? Is this guy a big deal? When I got up to my room above the bar that night I googled him, and I’ve heard a few of his songs—and liked them—but I didn’t know how famous he was.

“Oh yeah right,” she responds. “It’s usually not this extravagant but still.”

I shake my head. I’ve known Lexi for the last few years. She’s a year older than me, graduated from high school last year and is enrolled in a local community college, but understands me more than anymore else. We’ve done some stupid stuff together—that both her and I insinuated—so there is no one else I’d want to go to this show with me. Both of us are dressed casually. I have on black jeans and a band t-shirt and she’s wearing a skirt and sweater. My long brunette hair is in its natural waves. The car gets off the freeway, meaning that we’re getting close. My heartbeat picks up and I don’t know why.

“I don’t know how close I’m going to get you,” our Uber driver says from the front seat.

“Okay,” I turn to face her. “If you tell me you’re uncomfortable, we leave, no questions asked. But that also goes for if I tell you it’s weird, okay?”

“Of course,” she assures me. “Just tell me the word and we’ll run out of there.”

I smile.

A few minutes later the car halts.

“I’m sorry, it’s all backed up so this is as close as I can get,” the driver announces.

“This is perfect,” I tell him. “Thank you so much.”

We both slide out of the Honda out my side and make our way down the pavement. It’s freezing! February in Michigan is the worst, in the thick of winter, and there is snow and ice everywhere.

“I think it’s up there,” Lexi points a few blocks ahead of us at a large crowd all making their way through a few sets of doors.

I gulp. Shit, there are a lot of people here. We slowly make our way up the street through throngs of excited teenage girls and I stop in line in front of the box office. There’s a couple in front of us, with the girl bouncing on her heels and guy looking like he needs a drink or two to get through the next few hours. I bounce on my heels nervously as time keeps going by. What are his intentions? I tried to make it clear to him last night that I wanted this to be a strictly professional relationship that may grow into a friendship, but that’s it. Right now I want to focus on music—on doing as well as I can on my own to be able to be completely independent. He seems like a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll get it.

“Next in line,” the woman in the ticket office announces, looking like this job has drained the life out of her.

“Hi, umm, I was told to come here to pick up tickets,” I stutter, looking down at my hands.

She huffs. “Name and ID please,” she retorts.

I hand over my ID and feel my toes wiggling in my shoes. I don’t know why I’m nervous.

The woman reaches behind her and grabs two passes from a box behind her without even taking her eyes off the computer in front of her.

“These are for you, it says that you have all-access,” she slides two laminated passes through the small opening at the bottom of the window. “My colleague over here can take you backstage.” She motions to a man standing by the side of the box office with an earpiece in.

My eyes widen briefly. He arranged to have us brought backstage? I thought we were just going to be in the back and then maybe meet up later. I mean he did make me promise to let him buy me a drink; maybe he’s just making sure I keep up my end.

I gulp and thank her, taking the passes and handing one to Lexi.

“No shit!” She exclaims when she sees the pass. “Is this real?”

“Come on, let’s see what they’re up to,” I motion toward the security guard and show him my pass. He nods and then leads us through a side door into the venue.

There are people everywhere—and not just teenage girls like I expected—there are couples, old people, kids, parents with children, everyone. People from every walk of life have all gathered here, and that’s beautiful. The guard finally stops when we make it to a door with the word restricted on it.

“Have a good night,” he bids us farewell and turns back toward the crowd, quickly disappearing in all the hustle and bustle.

Lexi beams at me. “This is crazy! Come on!” Then she tugs the door open.

We’re met by the sound of music blaring from a speaker at the end of the hallway. I know this song, but I don’t know the name of it, and for some reason, it takes me back to childhood. As we make our way down the hall, a wave of recognition comes over me; it’s “Without Me” by Eminem.

I don’t know how I excepted to find Ed that night, but then this definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. Usually when you hear about musicians, they have girls and drinks and drugs everywhere, but no, when I walked into the room that was the source of the music, I saw Ed and another guy with dark hair rapping the lyrics at each other at the top of their lungs doing elaborate hand motions that I’m sure made them think they look cool. I look over at Lexi and she’s smirking, looking extremely amused.

The dark-haired guy notices us and pats Ed on the shoulder. “You got guests?” He says and reaches over to pause the music.

Ed whips around and a smile comes on his face when he sees me.

“You made it! I didn’t know if you’d actually come!” He smiles and pulls me into a quick hug. “This is my cousin, Murray, he films stuff for me. Not like that, like tour diaries and shit. Murray, this is Cassidy, the girl I told you about.”

“I like that,” Ed glances between both of us, a grin on his face.

“Way to go, mate, making me sound like a dodgy porn producer,” Murray holds out a hand for me to shake and I laugh. I already like this guy.

“This is my friend Lexi,” I gesture to Lexi and she waves.

“Ah so you’re the one that’s here to make sure I don’t pull any stupid shit,” Ed smirks. “You also have to make sure your friend holds up her end of the promise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve put her in her place before,” Lexi responds.

The moment is interrupted by a tall man tapping on the open door to my right.

“We’ll talk after the show, alright,” Ed nods at me and walks toward the guy who’s holding a guitar.

I smile, and then he’s off down the hallway.

-

I sink back into the leather couch and let out a sigh of relief. Finally I’m sitting. Lexi and I watched Ed’s set from the side of the stage with Murray and all three of us danced our asses off. I don’t know if I was supposed to act cool or like I didn’t care about being here, but it was an insane experience and I wasn’t going to waste it by being self-conscious. Every once in awhile Ed would glance over at us and giggle, probably laughing at how uncoordinated we all were; I’m sure the crew probably thought we were drunk. But now I’m sat in one of the rooms backstage with about twenty other people all talking. Ed said he had to shower real quick after coming off stage, but told me to wait for him here with everyone else. Music was playing from the speaker they were using earlier (Eminem still), and there is a buzz in the air from all the talking. Lexi was having a great time, chatting with one of his opening acts about some obscure show they both watched and I was just content to be on my own for a second. I didn’t realize how zoned out I was until Ed interrupted my thoughts.

“You alright? You look a bit out of it?” He asked, handing an opened beer to me and then raising the one in his other hand to his lips.

“Yeah, sorry,” I blush.

He sits down next to me and faces me.

“‘right, tell me about you,” he says.

I take a swig of my beer. God! Why do people drink this? It tastes like carbonated pee. I cough slightly.

“This is a two-wave street; the only thing I know about you is that you’re on tour and you have a terrible taste in alcohol,” I retort.

“Hey!” He laughs. “I think this is a local beer.”

“Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

He grabs my drink from my hand and walks over to the corner of the room, returning a few minutes later with a red solo cup. I take a sip and smile: vodka tonic.

“Alright, well,” he tucks his leg under him. “My name is Ed, I’m twenty-one, and I don’t know whether or not to be happy or offended that you didn’t google me before coming here.”

I shrug.

“Your turn then,” he takes a sip of his beer.

“My name is Cassidy, I’m eighteen, and I write songs and absolutely hate singing them in front of people.”

“Wait really? Then why were you performing at a pub?”

“Because right now no one will sing my songs except me.”

“Fair enough. Have you always wanted to go into music?”

I pause. I honestly don’t know the answer to that. I’ve always liked music, but I was never told I could make a career out of it.

“I think so,” I gulp. I don’t know to get into this with him. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I was quite shit at school so I always knew that I had to do something in the arts, then I started playing guitar and it all kind of clicked. I really liked those songs you played last night.”

“Thanks! I literally wrote ‘Latch’ in math class the day before,” I pause, smiling to myself, “I guess there’s a reason why I failed my test today.”

“I personally think it’s worth it.”

I shift in my seat and the song changes and another Eminem song comes on.

“Jesus, I get it that you’re in Detroit but this is so much Eminem,” I laugh and take a big sip, feeling the faint burn of the liquor.

“I’ll have you know that Eminem was an integral part of my childhood,” he smirks.

I laugh.

“No seriously, my dad bought me The Marshall Mathers LP when I was eleven because my uncle is a legend and said that Eminem was the next Bob Dylan because he heard ‘Stan’ on the radio. It massively helped my street-cred: I was walking around with these huge glasses, ginger hair, and mumbling bitch I’mma kill you.”

I throw my head back and laugh, just picturing the ridiculousness of all of that.

“Aww, I would have been your friend,” I pout.

“You say that now.”

“Nah, we would have been a great team. When I was 11, FutureSex/LoveSounds by Justin Timberlake came out and I listened to that religiously...” I trail off. Should I be telling him this? Fuck it. “Basically, one day I was listening to “SexyBack” with my mom and I asked her why Justin wanted to be whipped because that seemed really painful.”

He choks on this drink and looks at me with wide eyes, emitting the same laugh I did a few minutes ago.

“What did she say?” He finally asks.

“She took my CD away. So yeah, we were both really weird kids. I also played piano and wrote poetry, so I was very popular on the playground.”

He grins. “We would have been a good team.”

I throw back the rest of my drink.

“Want another?” He asks and I nod, taking my cup and going over to the same corner where I’m assuming all the liquor is.

Lexi catches my eye and raises her eyebrows. I give her a small nod; this has been fun so far. Ed comes back a few moments later with my drink and a solo cup of his own.

“So I do actually have a serious question for you,” he sits back down.

I nod and take a sip.

“Basically, one of my support acts has a family emergency and has to fly back to Ireland at the end of the week. My team and I have been stressing about not having two support acts because that’s what we advertised when the tickets went up, but when I saw you play last night it kind of clicked. Now I know you said you don’t have performing, but this is a way to get your songs out there and lead to other things, but I completely understand if you don’t want to do it.”

“When would you need me to start? And where would I have to go? And for how long?”

“If you could on Monday in St. Paul. We’re going on this leg until the 17th of February but then we’re going to Australia after that but you don’t have to commit to that if you don’t want to.”

I look down at my hands. This is an amazing opportunity, and I have been wanting to leave the house for a while. But then again, I’ve never properly been on my own. I don’t have any money, any contacts. Sure my parents weren’t around much when I was younger so I’m not worried about taking care of myself, but they would always leave me money for food and other expenses. This truly is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“Fuck it I’m in,” I respond.

“Wait are you serious?” He smiles, looking genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, why not? I hate what I’m doing right now and that seems really cool, I’m in.”

“I honestly didn’t expect you to decide so quickly considering the vetting you gave me last night.”

“You said you’re a fellow weird kid; weird kids look out for each other.”

He raises his cup toward me.

“Well cheers to that, and welcome aboard.”

[unstable-reality]

Remember to Forget

Phew! Feared I might not get this up in time (I thought I’d given myself a week to write it, but it turned out I’d misread things and only given myself two days. *facepalm*). 

Anyway: here’s Jyn, Cassian, and a significant date.

[AO3]

.

.

Jyn wasn’t one to mark anniversaries or events. She preferred, whenever possible, to ignore the passage of time. It was easier that way; made for fewer reminders. She didn’t have to think or care about the things she’d done, or the people she’d known, because there was only today, only the next meal, the next job, the next distraction, the next helmet to drive her boot into. No future, no past, and in theory, no pain.

But things had changed. A hatch had opened.

She stood in front of her locker, hesitating. She was packed and ready, her bag slung over her shoulder, but now that it was time to go, there were nerves blossoming in her belly. It was silly. The mission was a simple thing -- Cassian’s first off-base assignment since Scarif, transparently designed to ease him back into field work -- and it had nothing to do with tomorrow’s Standard date, or with the memories she’d lately had trouble holding back. Then again, the mission wasn’t really the problem.

She closed her eyes, breathed. Adjusted her bag. I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. The door to her locker clicked shut. Her bunkmate had stuck a calendar to the wall. She didn’t look at it.

The corridors of Home One were bright, sterile, and nowhere near as crowded as they should have been. Jyn nodded to a soldier, was acknowledged by another, and then another. She was starting to recognize and be recognized by a surprising amount of people. Well, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, given the givens, but it still took her aback, when she paused to think about it. She’d spent years as a transient. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having place, about being known again. At times, it felt very, very good. At others, it made panic well up behind her ribs. Right now, it was somewhere in between. She stepped out onto the hangar. The patrol was changing over; one squadron was approaching the bay, marshalled by a deck crew in baggy uniforms. A second was hopping into their X-wings, dragging down their helmets. She wondered at the overlap between that and her departure time, and then she thought of Bodhi, and wondered whether he was in either group. They’d had a lot of conversations, over the past couple of months, many of them about her father. Did he know? She could talk to him, probably. Not that either of them were available right now.

Not that it mattered. Because it didn’t, and it hadn’t, in years and years and years.

Cassian was waiting outside their ship, arms crossed. He didn’t quite smile at her. It was a reserved expression, for an ordinary person, but when worn by him, it felt like so much more. “I started to think you might not be coming.”

Her fist tightened around the strap of her bag. “I’m on time.”

“You’re five minutes late.”

Ah. That explained the overlap with the shift change. She supposed she’d known that. She shrugged. Beyond Cassian, she caught a glimpse of K-2, tinkering with a control panel.

“Hello, Kay. You’re looking well.”

He stilled. His head rotated toward her, slowly. The lights of his eyes winked out, winked back on. She was needling him, and she was doing it because it was its own sort of distraction. Her heart was thumping like the stupid thing that it was. She had to take her mind off it somehow.

“Jyn Erso,” he said. Droids couldn’t sigh, but it sounded like he had. “It’s very nice of you to join us. I’m thrilled.”

She huffed. It was a shame he couldn’t remember. She’d have to offer him her blaster again, one of these days.  

She looked back at Cassian. The lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened. He looked amused. His gaze bounced to her bag, to her lips, back up to her eyes. He nodded, and then turned toward the open hatch. “Let’s go.”

Her stomach churned. Her heart hadn’t slowed. She breathed deep, and swallowed, and followed him on board.

-

-

They hadn’t spent a lot of time together. She’d thought it would be more, after everything, but in hindsight, that seemed foolish. He’d been doing a lot of physical therapy, and she’d been integrating into the Alliance, and their schedules hadn’t lined up all that often, and even after he was fully healed, they’d still be on separate duty much of the time. She ought to lower her expectations. Still, when they had been able to see one another, it had been...nice, in a way that she wanted to get used to. She hadn’t wanted that sort of thing in a long time.

She didn’t want to screw it up.

She sat in the cabin. She’d wedged herself into a nook, leaned her head against the wall. Durasteel amplified the sound of the air filtration system and piped it back into her ear. She mentally inventoried her weapons. She had her truncheon, and a few knives of varying lengths. There were two blasters in her pack. She thought of the world they were headed to. She thought of the city. There was a festival underway, which would serve as additional cover: off-worlders would draw less attention. She began to think about why she’d been tagged for this -- because Cassian wasn’t 100%, so he needed back-up; because he’d specifically asked for her -- but got off it.

She thought of Lah’mu. She thought of a moment, with lights and smiles and laughter, and her mother bending to kiss her father’s cheek, and him looking up at her, from his chair, with soft, kind eyes.

She rubbed her temples. The engine hummed and rumbled up through her lower half. K-2 said something to Cassian, who responded flatly. A part of her wanted to go up front, but there was an ache in her chest, and it rooted her to the floor. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t.

He came back to her, after the craft had dropped out of hyperspace. His face was impassive. She got the impression that he was reading her, that he was evaluating. It would be just her luck, wouldn’t it, if he could tell she had shit going on. You don’t have shit going on, and it’s not the first time he’s seen you.

“We’re preparing to land.”

“Good. I’ll get my things.”

She rose, collected her bag. He watched. He extended an arm, planting his elbow on the wall and his fist against an abutment on the ceiling. “We’ll be here for a few days, as a cushion.” It was a strange thing for him to say, as if he were trying to fill the silence.

“I know.”

The air thickened. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel him looking at her, feel his stance shifting. What was she doing? It was just a day, it was just a stupid day, and it had nothing to do with him, nothing at all.

“Right,” he said. She could hear his intake of breath. He tapped the abutment, then moved past her, quickly, and gathered his own things.

-

-

Her datapad was blinking.

She sat in their hotel room, on the edge of her bed. Cassian was in the fresher. Muffled sounds of revelry drifted up from the street. Her hands curled and uncurled around her comforter. It probably wasn’t a wise move, but she’d messaged Bodhi shortly after they’d settled in. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d never wanted, or needed, to talk to anyone before. Of course, she’d also never bothered remembering.

She reached for the device, and let out a long, slow breath.

Hi Jyn. It’s not a strange question at all. Yeah, I knew. He mentioned it last year. How are you doing?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest burned, and her throat tightened.

I’m fine. How are you?

She stared at the cursor. Shifted around. Even if he was in a position to check his messages, and replied immediately, the distance would still cause a delay. Cassian emerged, looking put-together, professional. Well-dressed. It was fine. Everything was fine. He blinked at her.

“Bodhi,” she said. “I see.”

The datapad vibrated. She glanced down.

I don’t know. Feels weird.

It was odd, but somehow, until now, she hadn’t realized how close Bodhi had gotten to her father. All the talking they’d done, and it was this that drove it home. What was she to do with that? She was still getting used to letting people be there for her, and to being there for them in return. It felt like lifting an atrophied limb.

We can talk when I get back.

Could they? Really?

Yeah, okay.

Cassian was still standing there. The exchange had taken several minutes, and he’d just waited it out. It occurred to her that that was significant. Guilt stabbed at her chest.

It had nothing to do with him. Her pulse was racing, and it had nothing to do with him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, after she’d gone for a stretch without typing.

She dropped the datapad onto the bedside table. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go.”

His eyebrows dipped. His gaze fell to the floor. He’d read her again, at least in part, but she didn’t want to volunteer information. He sighed. “Good.” Started to take a step, stopped. His body went rigid. His eyes closed, his lips compressed into a thin line. A shadow fell over his face. He clenched his fists, and she saw his throat work, and she straightened, leaned forward, prepared to...do something. And then, as abruptly as it had started, it passed. He looked at her. Flashed a quick, tight smile.

Huh. Seemed he had his own shit.  

They took the lift down to the ground floor. The last time they’d been in one, they’d clung to each other, and she’d looked at his face, and into his eyes, and felt a deep and desperate longing. Now, they stood side by side, with a respectable distance between them. Don’t screw it up. The door opened, and she swallowed, and they moved through the lobby, and then out into the world. Something bore down on her heart. They had only to meet with a contact; Cassian had only to confirm a transaction. It wasn’t a big deal. But the air was full, and so was the street.

There were people everywhere. They were singing. There were instruments, their sounds wafting over and cutting through the crowd. There were noisemakers and streamers. There were children running and hollering. There was a familiarity to it that tickled something in her mind. It would have to be related, wouldn’t it? Of course these things would come in bunches, rather than one at a time.

Cassian’s side knocked into hers. He placed his fingertips on her lower back, and bent toward her ear. “Stay close to me,” he said, his breath washing over the side of her face. The points of contact were hot. It felt natural to lean into him and wind her own arm around his lower back. He acquiesced. She breathed.  

She thought of Eadu. Kriff.

This near to him, it was hard not to acknowledge her nerves. The reason for them was peering at her from around a corner. Her pulse raced.

It was fine. She was fine.

The ground dipped unexpectedly. Beside her, Cassian stiffened, and his breath hitched. She looked up at him, narrowed her eyes. She could have just ignored it again -- should have, really -- but her concern for him won out.

“Are you all right?”

The hand on her back went as stiff as the rest of him. “Yes,” he replied, a tad gruffly. He met her gaze. “Are you?”

Well. That wasn’t fair at all. She stared at him. They’d come to a stop; they were at the edge of the crowd, but streams of people still parted around him. Music pounded in her head. Its rhythm clashed with the beat of her heart, which was fast and foolish.

“Yeah. Course.”

He shook his head, made an exasperated noise. “Right.” His hand fell away. The spot where it had been felt cold and empty.

Why did it have to be this way? If she didn’t want to screw things up, then why did she seem to be doing just that? She didn’t know how to balance it. Maybe it was too much to hope for, nurturing whatever it was that was growing between them, while blocking off a part of herself, stalling a conversation that she dreaded.

She sighed, swallowed. He knew that she was off; she had to give him something to work with. She was opening her mouth to speak when she caught a glimpse of a woman and a man, pausing beside a building. There was a little girl between them, adjusting the straps on her boots with slow, half-practiced movements. She was very small, and very young, and on her shoulders, there lay two brown braids.

It clicked, all of the things that had been familiar. All-Species Week. She could hardly remember that day, but the few impressions that remained were more than enough. The pair of hastily packed bags. The tense, breathless walk through colorful, chaotic streets. The press of bodies. Her mother’s agitation. Her father, clutching her to his chest. The ship. The flight. Saw, and his map.

You’ve chosen a good home for us, Stardust.

Kriff. The air was heavy, and too warm. It was hard to breathe. Cassian frowned at her.

“...Jyn?”

“I need a second.” She pushed her way off the street, placed her palms against the wall of a building. The corners of her eyes stung.

This was stupid. It shouldn’t bother her so much. It shouldn’t matter, any of it. She’d been so good at not thinking about it, about leaving the past where it lay, but now… Things had changed. A couple of months ago, things had changed. She’d seen him. She’d spoken to him, and she’d watched him die. The past had mattered then. Oh, how it had mattered, so much so that it had turned her into a blubbering mess, and then it had lit her skin on fire.

Footsteps, behind her and then next to her. Cassian, his brow creased with concern. She forced herself to turn and straighten, so that they were facing each other, their shoulders to the wall.

He was very close to her. “Jyn, what is going on?”

She didn’t want to tell him. Force, there was no use turning away from it, now, because it did have to do with him. Kriff, kriff, it did. She didn’t want to tell him, because he’d almost been the one to kill him, and she didn’t want to bring that back up, didn’t want to have to deal with it. She’d been ignoring it, because not ignoring it might ruin everything. She liked him. Kriff, she liked him, she wanted to get to know him, she wanted to spend more time with him, she wanted to keep working with him, and getting anywhere near the circumstances surrounding their meeting could jeopardize that.

“Jyn, please. Talk to me.”

And then, just like that, she blurted it out: “It’s his birthday.”

He stilled. “What?”

Her throat was stuffed with balled-up linen. “It’s my father’s birthday.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

He exhaled. His shoulders relaxed and fell forward. He looked off to the side for a moment, then back at her. “I’m…” His throat bobbed. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

Yeah. He sure was. She felt her thoughts, and her heart, angle away from him. She felt a spark of old anger, the very thing she’d hoped to keep from coming back. She blinked. Tears clung to her eyelashes. His expression was so earnest. His hands were hovering, like he wanted to touch her, but wasn’t sure how, or whether he should.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s clearly not.”

“Neither is your back.”

He breathed hard through his nose. “No, but it’s where it should be, and it’s getting better.” He pursed his lips, and tapped her arm. “C’mon. We’re going back to the hotel.”

She frowned. “Your contact.”

“We arranged to meet within a window. We have time.”

She was a fool. And ridiculous. And a mess. She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that the mission was more important, a sentiment she was pretty sure he’d get behind. She wanted to be back on a distraction. But she knew it was too late for that.

“Okay.”

He closed his hand around her arm, and she let him lead her back.

-

-

They sat next to each other, the sides of their hands barely touching. Outside, a popular song was taken up, and hundreds of voices belted out the words.

“He called you Stardust.”

She nodded. “He could be very sentimental.” Except when he couldn’t. Her memories of Mac-Vee were as washed out as her memories of the escape from Coruscant, but she knew what they meant. “And when we were on Lah’mu, he tried to make it…” Seem simple. Normal. Happy.

She recalled him sitting in a darkened corner of the kitchenette, his features sharpened by shadow. One hand had been wrapped around a glass; the other had bracketed his forehead, thumb and forefinger pressed into his temples. He’d drunk silently and alone, and she’d watched him until, at length, he’d noticed her, and pushed the glass aside. Something had passed over his face, and then it had been replaced by a half-smile. “What are you doing up?”

Wondering.

In retrospect, it occurred to her that he’d never purposely drank in front of her, after Coruscant. It had been part of the illusion.

Her head hung. Her chin touched her collar bone. It was hard to talk about this. It was terrible. It wasn’t what she’d wanted. She was crying again, and she hated it.

“He loved you.”

Her whole body went taut. Her thoughts jumped, danced, skittered. She held her breath, and everything was ready, ready, like she was on the edge of a fight.

“He would have been proud of you.”

Her head swung toward him. Hadn’t he already said that? She couldn’t be sure.

Cassian was breathing, and blinking. She considered that the spark hadn’t lit. The anger hadn’t been strong enough. He looked her in the eye, and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry, Jyn.”

It wasn’t what she’d expected. He shouldn’t be reacting the way he was. They shouldn’t be having this conversation, and even if they were, it shouldn’t be calm, and it shouldn’t be making her feel better, and it wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The past hurt. Because it hurt, people recoiled when confronted by it. People left. People betrayed. They had a past, she and Cassian, despite their short history, and that was a kriffing liability. They ought to be dispensing with it. They ought to be pretending it wasn’t anything, carrying on with all the talking and touching as if nothing had come before.

But she couldn’t live that way anymore, whether she’d accepted it or not. The hatch was open.

“I know.”

His tears hadn’t fallen, but they clouded his eyes. She folded her hand over his. He inhaled. They made eye contact. Something warm sprouted in her chest, spread outward. She realized that she wasn’t screwing it up. There was no fighting, and no rejection; he was trying, same as her, and goodness, it felt good just to say, just to have someone hear. She took it further, and heart pounding, veins burning, she realized that there was a way to distract herself and get to know him at the same time.

“Tell me about your parents.”