#loud nonetheless but a Minority. most people will understand and be more than on board. it will make sense to them. they are not all dumb. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jhsbrat · 6 years ago

Text

titan descending | myg

genre: star trek/space au, fwb au?

word count: 8.7k

warnings: major character death, violence, scientific inaccuracies

a/n: I did absolutely zero research while writing this, so don’t come for me lmao

Pants and groans filled your dimly lit room. Through the small porthole, the two moons outside cast silvery light on your moving bodies. There was the sound of people walking by in the hallway right outside your door, so the two of you spoke in hushed tones.

“Raise your hips up a little bit more.”

“I’m trying! Move to the left.”

“I can’t really will my dick to move in any direction,” Yoongi replied drily, nevertheless shifting the way you asked. He starts slamming into you right at the spot you needed the most and your eyes squeeze tight in pleasure. Trying to will yourself closer to the edge, you focus on the impending heat in your belly and-

“Are you going to come any time soon? I’m getting a cramp.”

You huff in frustration and look back at the man. “It would happen sooner if someone stopped talking.”

He rolls his eyes and leans over you, fingers slithering to rub insistently over your clit. You gasp and the heat returns, building up faster than before. The man quickens his pace, your tightness pushing him along to his own end. Only a few more minutes of frantic thrusting passed before you both found your pleasure.

Pulling off of Yoongi, you collapse on the bed out of breath. He remains kneeling for a moment, panting, before tugging off and tying up the condom, tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket. Then he flops down next to you, propping his arm behind his head, chest still moving up and down. “You’re so high maintenance, I can’t believe it takes you this long to get off.”

You turn to look at him, his auburn hair turned dark with sweat and falling in strands over his face. A stark difference from the buttoned-up, slicked back man everyone on board knows.

“I could always just go to Aj’es or Nozos for my needs. I know Klingons wouldn’t talk as much as you.”

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t be fucking a red-blooded, human male.” He says, wagging his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes. “Ugh, you’re such a speciest, Min Yoongi.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I prefer my sexual partners to have the number of limbs that I’m accustomed to.”

“If I’m really that much of a problem in bed, then why don’t you just go holler at Seokjin?”

“Fortunately for you, I don’t swing that way. Although now I’m starting to wish that I did.”

“More like fortunately for him,” you mutter under your breath.

“What was that, Officer?”

You gather his uniform discarded on the floor beside you and toss it at him. “Goodnight, Commander.”

You push your tray down the line, scrunching your nose up at the smell in the mess hall. The ship has been going on a couple months without stopping at nearby planets to reload materials, so the food for the past few weeks has been…subpar. The red shirt officer in front of you recoiled at the brown sludge the Cardassian dining staff plopped onto his plate, moving onward in line reluctantly. You grimace and step forward to receive your own helping when you feel yourself being pulled out of line.

“Taehyung! I’m hungry!” You exclaim, trying to tug back your hand.

“Don’t be so loud, Officer.” He shoots a boxy smile back over his shoulder, leading you to a table towards the rear of the mess hall. He sits down and you mimic him, keeping your tongue in check. Mouth still stretched in a grin, he sets down a sandwich and an apple in front of you on the table.

Your eyes flit between the food and the man, widened in shock. “Is this-is this real food?”

“Yes,” Taehyung beams at you, ripping the sandwich in half, “And you’re the lucky one who gets to split it with me.”

You reach out to grab your portion and stuff it in your mouth, as if it would disappear if you didn’t consume it as quickly as possible. Through a mouthful of ham and cheese, you ask him where he managed to find it. Before the engineer could respond, however, a pale hand snatches up the apple between the two of you.

Looking up, you see Yoongi, face impassive as he regards you and Taehyung.

“I was just wondering the same thing,” he said, bouncing the apple in his hand, “Where did a Research Officer and a Propulsion Engineer get their hands on contraband like this?”

“Commander!” Taehyung stutters, standing up to salute him. You move to do the same after remembering that you were in public.

“At ease.” Yoongi replies, waving his hand. You and Taehyung relax, but remain standing. “I know that we’ve been off planet for a while now, so I’m willing to overlook this indiscretion. But understand I won’t be so kind in the future.”

“Yes, sir,” both of you say back. He tips his head in recognition and walks off, taking a bite of the apple as he exits the mess hall.

“Asshole,” Taehyung mutters, sitting back down. You nod in agreement, but chuckle nonetheless.

You’re walking back to your own quarters when Yoongi steps out from the bridge to stand in front of you.

“Officer, can I speak to you for a moment.” He states, rather than asks, not waiting for your reply as he leads you into a turbolift entrance. You follow him wordlessly, hands back your back and eyes straight ahead, the spitting image of an attentive subordinate. Once you’re both inside and the doors close, he reaches behind you to hit the emergency stop button on the control panel.

“You’re going to get in trouble one of these days if you continue to hang around that engineer,” he drawled, slipping into his native accent.

You scrutinize him for a moment, ignoring the flashing red lights of the lift. Yoongi always interested you, in the same way a mathematician is fascinated with an equation she just can’t solve. Over the years you shared on the U.S.S. Vanguard with him, there were bits and pieces he slowly revealed of himself. Like the way his gums showed when he smiled, really smiled. Or how his interest in space exploration was an inheritance from his father, who disappeared while serving in Starfleet himself when Yoongi was still a kid. Everyone knows he can speak more languages than any person on board, but only you were privy to the fact that he became the Federation’s foremost Communications Commander because, in some small part of his heart, he still held onto hope of finding his dad.

Nevertheless, the man still managed to surprise you. Just when you think you’ve understood every aspect of his stoic, punctilious nature, he begins to treat your relationship a little differently and you’re thrown for a loop. You suppose you’re lucky for it, however, since any other man would have bored you these many years into being stuck together on a metal vessel hurtling through space.

“Taehyung is just my friend,” you finally reply, folding your arms over your chest.

He snorts. “When did I imply differently? He’s still going to get you in trouble. You don’t know how often I find him doing anything but his job. It’s a miracle the ship moves at all.”

“So, what? I can’t have friends now? Jealously isn’t a good look on you, Yoongi.”

His eyes flash. “Contrary to what you may think, I’m not some caveman who wants to throw you over my shoulder and beat on the walls with a stick. And it’s Commander, to you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Since the beginning of whatever the two of you had together, he had never insisted on using public formalities in private. In fact, it was just the opposite, admitting after one of your nights together that he didn’t want to play his authoritative role all the time. So him pulling rank now was just that, a ploy to end this conversation because you were approaching sensitive territory.

“Yes, Commander.” You respond acidly, unfolding your arms and turning to open the doors of the lift again.

He sighs and follows you out. “Wait, I—“

“Commander Min, please report to the bridge.” A disembodied voice relays over the ship’s speaker. He catches up to you before you can round the corner, moving to block your way.

“We’re not finished with this conversation,” he asserts, pointing behind you, “Come on. We’re both going to the bridge.”

Once you cross the threshold of the bridge, you part from Yoongi’s side and move to sit next to the ship’s First Pilot, Seokjin. The man nods at you in greeting and turns back to face front.

Namjoon turns in his chair to welcome the two of you. “Commander, thanks for returning to us. I see you brought us a Research Officer. Excellent, we actually might need her for this.”

Yoongi glances at you for a quick second before returning his gaze forward. “Captain. Is something the matter?”

“Indeed. Officer Kumari, would you care to fill them in?”

The Andorian nodded, still adjusting dials with her blue fingers. “While you were out, Commander, I was moved to man the comms and we received a distress signal from a nearby minor planet. B-612. I will replay it for you now.”

Black envelops the view screen of the bridge. Then there was a flash of light and noise, a male face filling the screen. With a short, flat nose and oval jaw, you would have called his features close to cherubic in any other situation. But his eyes were wide with fear and there was a streak of red smudged on his cheek. You lean forward, intrigued.

“If anyone can hear me, I need help! There are people here, I don’t know who they are or where they’re from, but-“ he chokes up, pausing for a moment to look away. When he turns back to the screen, tears have filled his eyes. “They’ve killed everyone. And I’m afraid they’re going to kill me next. I’m afraid-“

The video cuts out abruptly and view screen returns to show the environment in front of the ship. The bridge is quiet.

“What do you think, Commander?” Namjoon breaks the silence, swiveling in his command chair to look at Yoongi. The man in question stands still, rigidly facing ahead, lost in thought.

“Captain, with all due respect,” Seokjin interjects after a moment, “We’re wasting time. For all we know, whoever sent that signal could be dead or dying, and we’re just sitting here.”

“Duly noted, Seokjin. However, I would still like to hear what my First Officer has to say.” Namjoon responds without turning to the pilot.

Suddenly, Yoongi pivots to face you. “What do you know about B-612?”

You blink in surprise at the question. “Not much. It’s one in many strings of minor planets near us. It’s so small it might as well be considered an asteroid. There’s no record of contact between Starfleet and any living being around here.”

He nods, still thinking. “I wonder how he was able to send that distress signal.”

Seokjin huffs in frustration. “Never mind that, we need to save him!”

“Technically, he’s right,” Namjoon stands up and starts moving towards the door, “If you have no further objections or thoughts on the matter, I think we should start heading to the transporter room.”

Yoongi’s mouth is set in a straight line but he nods anyway.

Namjoon is almost out the exit before he stops and looks to you. “Officer, I think you should come too. If this is officially Starfleet’s first contact with someone from this area, it needs to be recorded.”

“Of course, Captain.” You stand up and follow him, brushing past the still surly Commander.

An hour later, the three of you are huddled in the medical bay. Sitting next to you on one of the examination tables, shivering under a shock blanket, is the boy from the video. You regard him carefully, curious about the stranger from the untouched planet.

“Taeyeon,” Namjoon murmurs, catching the ship’s Chief Medical Officer as she walked past, “Can you tell me about what happened to him?”

“Dr. Kim, Captain,” the woman corrected him firmly. His cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she continues speaking. “Physically, he’s fine. No injuries, not even a cut or scratch. He’s just exhibiting signs of shock post-trauma.”

“What about the blood on his face?” Yoongi asks, stepping forward.

“All I can tell you is that it isn’t his, Commander,” she responds, “I’ll leave you alone with him for questioning now. Afterward, I’d like to do a psych eval, with your permission.”

The pair nod and the doctor exits, leaving you alone with the stranger from B-612.

“Hello,” Namjoon spoke gently, treading closer to the boy, “My name is Namjoon. I am the captain of this starship. What is your name?”

“Jimin,” he enunciates clearly, voice soft and sweet.

“Nice to meet you Jimin. Can you tell us what happened to you?”

Jimin’s eyes dart over to where you and Yoongi were standing silently in the back. “Who are they?”

Namjoon waves both of you over to introduce yourselves. The two of you stride closer to where Jimin sat and state your name and position on the ship.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” the boy admitted, eyes only getting wider. His smaller frame was still quivering under the blanket and your fingers twitched to get him another one. He reminded you of a baby blue jay you had once nursed when you were a child, frail and in need of protection. It took everything in you to stop yourself from cradling Jimin in your arms like the bird all those years ago.

“That’s okay,” Namjoon continued, “It’s a lot to learn. Why don’t you tell us why you sent that distress signal to our ship.”

Jimin took a breath, and then rushed out his next words, as though he had been keeping them inside for too long. “Some people came. I don’t know from where, but they came and they weren’t from my planet. They came and they killed everything that takes breath. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life, I’ve never-“

He falters and looks down at his lap. You finally take a step forward to grip his shoulder, a small sign of comfort. He looks up and smiles weakly at you, proving definitively that in the right situation, his features were angelic.

“Jimin, there has been no record of Federation contact with your planet. Where did you learn to speak our language?” Yoongi inquires. You shoot him a disapproving look.

“A man taught it to me. He came to live with us years ago.” The boy replies, taking another shaky breath.

Namjoon raises his brows at that. “A man? Jimin, could this man have been part of the attack?”

Confusion colored the boy’s face. “No, of course not. He is-he was my father. He was also killed.”

You glance at the two other men, hesitant to ask the next question. “Jimin. Is your father human?”

A few days had passed and you found yourself sitting in the back of the mess hall with Taehyung again. Only this time, Jimin was beside you. Your friend couldn’t take his eyes off the stranger, engrossed in watching him try to figure out the utensils on the table. When the boy attempted to spear the orange slop on his plate with a knife, Taehyung cooed and handed him a spoon instead. It was safe to say that everyone on board had become equally infatuated with the visitor and it was easy to see why. His delicate features and bright smiles made him easy to love. And the story of how he came to board the ship made him just as easy to pity.

The boy had lived on planet B-612 all his life, known only to him as his home. Years ago, a human man had crash-landed there and was the first to make contact with the indigenous species. The stranded man had tried and failed to repair his ship, but he ultimately accepted his new life on the planet. Eventually, he fathered a child with a native female and from that union came Jimin. The community there lived together in peace, never again coming into contact with another species. Until the day the invaders struck.

Jimin still hesitates to explain what happened, growing anxious every time he’s questioned about it. All anyone’s been able to put together is that some shadowy figures came and killed just about everyone that lived there, their motive unknown. Dr. Kim suggested that he’s just afraid of reliving the trauma of the attack, insisting he’ll reveal the details on his own time. Yoongi, however, remained wary.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Trust who?” You asked, sitting up on your bed and tying up your unruly hair.

“Jimin,” Yoongi explained, reaching up to release your curls from their knot again, then trailing his hand down your naked back. Frustrated, you snatch the clip from him and start the process over again.

“What do you not trust him about?”

“Just…his story. It doesn’t make sense. There are holes.” He leaned back on your pillows, watching you walk to the closet to begin dressing. Although there was only dark space outside, your sunlight clock glowed bright to let you know it was 0700 hours. The beams illuminated Yoongi’s lithe body as he got up to follow you, circling his arms around your middle.

“Don’t go,” he murmured softly, placing his chin on your shoulder, “Stay.”

“Not all of us are commanders of a starship and can afford to show up whenever they like,” you counter, twisting around in his hold to face him.

He smiled and tugged one of your curls loose. “Just give it a few years, Officer. Soon enough, you’ll be moving on to command a ship of your own.”

You knew his confidence in you should have boosted your pride, but all you felt was your heart-wrenching at the idea of leaving behind the U.S.S. Vanguard. Leaving behind him.

“It’s normal for trauma victims to not remember some of what happened to them,” you stated logically, returning to the topic of your ship’s visitor, and turned back around to find a clean uniform for the day.

Yoongi hummed noncommittally and moved to do the same.

“Hello, blue shirt? You in there?” A voice calls out to you. Startled out of your thoughts, you focus your attention back on the two boys in front of you. Taehyung was waving his hand in front of your face, apparently trying to get you to respond.

“Yes, Tae, what is it?” You sigh, resting your cheek on your hand.

“I’m trying to explain to Jimin what the Prime Directive is, but you were always better at memorizing that stuff.”

Your forehead creased and you look at the other boy. “Where did you hear about that?”

“I’m trying to learn more about Starfleet. Someone mentioned it the other day, but I didn’t know what it was.” He shrugs.

“Well, it’s pretty simple, really. The first principle of our organization is that we are not to interfere with the progress of alien civilizations. So if a planet is not fully developed yet, then we are not allowed to interact with them as to avoid accidentally imposing our own values on them.” You explain, trying to cut out as much jargon as possible. As excellent as his language skills were, he still got confused by complex sentences and unfamiliar words.

He nods slowly, taking in your words. “So, is that why you weren’t allowed to visit us?”

“Partially. You also just weren’t a mission priority.” Taehyung adds, cutting his spoon through the goop on his plate to draw figures.

A security agent stopped beside you and taps on your shoulder. “Officer, I’ve been told by Captain to tell you to report to the transporter room, with the visitor.” The gruff red shirt clad Klingon relayed, looking down at the two of you.

“Oh, shit. Thanks, Aj’es.” You rush to stand up, straightening your skirt. “C’mon, Jimin, follow me.”

In the transporter room, you’re met with Yoongi and Namjoon. They were speaking to Nozos, the officer manning the controls. They pause at the sight of you two, Namjoon waving you forward.

“Officer. Jimin,” he said by way of a greeting, “Commander Min and I have decided it’s time to visit B-612 for ourselves and investigate what has happened. If there are groups of people murdering others, we need to report it to Starfleet.”

“Jimin, what are your mother’s species called?” Yoongi inquired.

“Uh, I don’t know,” the boy stuttered, looking to you, “She’s always just been my mother.”

“Fair enough,” Yoongi responds, although his eyes are narrowed, “As the Federation’s representatives on the first visit to your planet, the Captain will lead this mission. I will accompany to provide my communication skills, in case I speak the same language as the invaders. Our Research Officer here will join us in order to record as much information about B-612 as possible. And you, Jimin, will escort us as our guide.”

“But I’m not ready to go back!” He stammers, eyes widening.

Yoongi just nods. “That’s understandable. Since you are not a member of our ship, you are not expected to follow my orders. Please feel free to return to your quarters. The rest of us will beam down without you.”

At that, Jimin pauses, eyes beginning to dart again between the three of you. “It’s not-it’s not safe down there.”

“We’re aware of the dangers,” Namjoon intones, stepping into the transport chamber, “It’s part of our job.”

Yoongi follows him up and after a moment’s hesitation when you look back at the trembling boy, so do you.

“Captain, we only have one working communicator right now,” Nozos informed him, walking forward to hand off the device, “The others are in need of parts for when we make our next reload stop.”

“Thank you, officer. Please beam us down to the same coordinates from where we picked up Jimin.”

Nozos grunted an affirmative and began hitting buttons on the control console. The boy watched, biting his lip nervously.

“Wait, hold on,” he called, walking uncertainly forward to also step into the transport chamber, “I can’t let you go alone.”

Namjoon smiled and nodded, clapping Jimin on the back. “I’m glad to hear you say so.”

And with that, the four of you disappears in a whirl of light and particles.

B-612 was hot. Not like the dry, scorching heat of Vulcan or the bright sunlight of your hometown in the summer. No, B-612 was damp, humid, wet. Although there wasn’t a rain cloud in sight, the air felt filled with water, turning you sluggish and slowing down your group’s pace through the thick jungle considerably.

“Jimin,” Yoongi wheezes, not one for physical exertion, “Please tell me we’re near where we need to be.”

The boy looks back over his shoulder, yards ahead of you all, lungs accustomed to the unusual atmosphere. “Yes, we’re nearly there.”

Jimin had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the journey, though you almost don’t mind since talking would require extra effort in this heat. Namjoon has already taken off his shirt, choosing to use it as a rag to mop up his sweat. You have removed the utility belt hung around your hips, preferring to hold the items it contained in your hands rather than weighing down your legs with its weight. Only Yoongi has remained stubbornly unchanged, save for the rings of sweat around his underarms.

A few miles more and your group finally breaks through the thicket of trees to arrive in a clearing. From your vantage point, you can see signs of a community below you. Scattered collections of makeshift homes and well-worn walking paths scatter the landscape. In the far distance, you swear you can almost see the curve of the planet.

“It really is essentially an asteroid,” Namjoon mutters to you, following Jimin down the hill. You nod, only half listening as you start snapping photos of everything you see. Walking up to the homes and fire pits left by the people that lived there, you scribble down as many notes as you can. Yoongi stays by your side, cautiously taking in the environment around you, while Namjoon and Jimin head off in a different direction.

“Jimin’s father must have been miserable here,” Yoongi says under his breath, almost to himself.

“Why do you say that,” you ask, walking forward to investigate a plant you’ve never seen before growing from the ground.

He shrugs and kicks up some loose red dirt. “To be so far from home, surrounded by a people and a language you don’t know. He must have been lonely.”

You turn to face him. “He had Jimin and Jimin’s mother. He must have loved them.”

Yoongi looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe.”

There’s a crash and you startle awake. You reach under your pillow and grab your phaser, a habit pounded into you from the Academy. Pointing it steadily at the intruder, you slowly stand up.

“Who are you?”

The figure steps out of the shadows into the light streaming through the window from the flashing neon lights outside. Raising his hands up, he grins crookedly at you.

“Just me,” Yoongi says, words slurring a bit, “Put your weapon down, Officer.”

You let out a shaky breath, collapsing back onto the bed. “Fuck, Yoongi, you scared me.”

“I told you not to get a room in this district,” the man says, moving forward to flop down next you. “It’s full of bars and brothels.”

“Yeah, and you smell like both, Commander.” You complain, snatching your pillow from him and settling back into the bed.

He frowns. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah? Then what would you like me to call you?” Smiling in amusement, you watch him rest his head on your chest.

“Mm. Baby.”

You’re almost sure he can hear your heart stutter through all the bones and sinew of your body, it pounds that hard. Taking a deep breath to settle your nerves, you open your mouth to say the next part.

“I have…I have something to tell you.”

“Sounds serious,” he grumbles, drawing his arms tighter around you, “Let’s save serious for tomorrow, yeah?”

You blink, unsure of what to do. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight. Love you.”

In shock at his words, your heartbeat picks up again, but you look down at him sadly nonetheless. Because in the morning he would remember none of his drunken words and what the two of you had would always remain a secret for the night.

You and Yoongi are still staring at each other in silence when Namjoon calls you both in the distance. Shaking yourself out of your reprieve, you step around the man in front of you. Following the sound of his voice, you find your captain and Jimin standing before a gruesome sight.

Bodies upon bodies are piled on top of each other, emanating a rotten stench that’s only exacerbated by the heat. Through your shock, you pick out the aliens almost humanoid features, save for their pale orange skin and magenta hair. Though you can’t immediately recognize the sex of any particular one, you notice there are smaller bodies littered among the group. Bile rises up your throat and you slap a hand over your mouth.

“They didn’t even bury them,” Yoongi whispers softly.

Jimin moves to stand in front of you all, spreading his arms as if he was trying to block your view. His eyes are inhumanly wider than ever before and you wonder if it’s a characteristic inherited from his mother’s species. “There, you’ve seen it. You have proof. Can we leave now?”

“No, Jimin, we can’t,” Namjoon responds calmly, though you can tell he’s shaken up by the way his hands tremble behind his back.

“This…this was a massacre,” you finally breath out, “Jimin, we have to find who did this.”

The boy is biting his lips, clearly worried about the prospect of staying on the planet for any longer.

“What is that?”

The three of you look over in the direction of where Yoongi is pointing. Though you can’t make it out clearly, there is a visible glint coming off of something large and metal in the distance. He takes off towards it, Namjoon quickly following in his stead. You move to do the same when Jimin grabs onto your hand.

“Please,” he choked, “Please don’t.”

Your brows furrow. “Jimin, just stay here if you’re afraid.”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to continue pleading, but you’ve already started running after your leaders.

The closer you get to the metal structure, the more you can make out what it is. An escape pod. Albeit an old one, from decades ago, with rust corroding its outside. Stepping into the small space, you find Namjoon tapping away at its computer.

“This is what Jimin must have used to send his distress signal,” he reasons, struggling with its outdated interface.

You nod and turn slowly, looking around. On the interior wall opposite the computer, you can make out the words U.S.S. Icarus stamped there. Papers and photos are taped alongside it, many detailing engineering and mechanical notes.

“He must have tried to repair it a million times,” you wonder quietly. Your eyes slide over a photo of a group of people, most likely the crew of the starship Jimin’s father ejected from. Moving closer to look at their faces, your breath hitches when you recognize a familiar gummy smile.

Ripping it down from the wall, you shove the photo in Namjoon’s face. He focuses on it for a moment, and then looks back at you in shock.

“Do you think it’s-“

“Captain, I’m almost certain. Where is he?”

Namjoon gets up and heads back outside into the sweltering heat. Spinning around, he yells out his second-in-command’s name.

“Over here.” You hear Jimin call and the two of you follow the voice to the other side of the escape pod. There, Yoongi and Jimin are standing over another body. However, this one looks different from the rest.

Coming closer, you see the man lying lifeless on the ground; throat cut and caked blood dried in a puddle around him. What makes you choke out a breath, however, is the man’s face, the spitting image of the one currently standing next to you.

Namjoon steps forward slowly. “Commander. Is this your father?”

Yoongi gives a brusque nod, still not speaking.

You glance over at the other boy, standing a ways apart from the three of you. “Did you know the two of you…shared a parent?”

He shrugs casually. “I find that’s such a human thing to care about.”

A few moments pass while you try to connect everything that’s occurred so far. Finding the piles of slaughtered bodies, discovering the fate of Yoongi’s lost father, Jimin’s sudden cavalier attitude. It’s almost as if-

“Jimin,” Yoongi exhales slowly, face paler than you’ve ever seen, “There were never really any invaders, were there?”

The boy’s features are blank, giving nothing away. Namjoon stiffens and your heart pounds. All three of you turn to face the alien in question.

He smiles slowly, mouth splitting open like a wound. It’s different, unnatural, making your hairs stand up on end.

“I knew of all the people to figure me out, it would be you, brother.”

Time begins to race faster than your brain is able to process, seconds melting into each other.

“Explain yourself.” Namjoon demands, voice still even though his hands shake harder behind his back.

“I killed them, Captain,” Jimin smirks, “I killed them all.”

You stare at the boy in front of you, innocent features still twisted in an ugly sneer. Trying to imagine this Jimin, the one that reminded you of that baby blue jay from your childhood, as a killer makes your knees want to buckle. Although your training prevents you from collapsing in shock, you still struggle to breathe.

“Why?” You croak out.

He shrugged again, as if you had asked him about his choice of shirt color. “They were in my way.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Yoongi finally speaks, words dripping with fury.

“You wouldn’t understand!” Jimin roars back, “None of you would! You weren’t left to rot on a rock like me!”

He stops, turning around to run his hands through his hair, back heaving with heavy breaths. When he faces you all again, his voice is steady and clear once more.

“My father was the first outsider to ever step foot on our planet. My people were fascinated by him, thought he and his odd ship were an interesting oddity. They learned that they were not the only ones to exist in this world, but did nothing about it. They accepted him and continued with their lives, as if they hadn’t discovered a life-changing fact.

But imagine what I felt when I learned the same fact for the first time. I don’t think any of you could, aren’t capable of it. I was in shock. Suddenly, my world had expanded and I wanted to explore it. Wanted to see for myself what life elsewhere looks like.

But my people were against it. Scolded and yelled at me for it, called me the strange half-breed. They thought I would bring calamity upon them by messing with the cosmos and shunned me. My mother died from the shame. Even my father was content with staying here, discouraged by his failed attempts at fixing his ship.

I worked on it anyways, read every manual and tried everything I could to get the damn thing to work. Eventually, I got the comms control to turn on. I told my father, thinking that out of everyone here, he would understand me. But he was angry, insistent that I drop it. I think the coward was afraid of having hope again, couldn’t bear if it failed.”

His eyes slide over to Yoongi, who was staring at the alien with a hard gaze.

“So I killed him. I killed our father. I always knew we shared blood, you know. As soon as I saw your face. The two of you look so alike, any other explanation was impossible.”

“Why did you kill the rest?” Namjoon asks, making Jimin turn his attention to him.

“I had to make the story believable, of course.”

“Jimin, what was the purpose in all this?” You implore, desperate to find some reason to explain away the murderous rage the boy in front of you held.

“I was abandoned by the rest of the galaxy,” he spits out, venomous, “I was passed over and told I wasn’t a mission priority. I wasn’t civilized or developed enough to know of more than the heat and dirt of the rock on which we stand. And I refuse to accept that fate.”

There’s a flash of inhumanly fast movement, a glint of silver, and a yell. Then the boy is running back in the direction you came from, nimble body moving quicker than you’ve ever seen someone go. Confused at the speed with which it all happened, you spin around to look at your leaders behind you.

Kneeling below you on the ground, Yoongi is cradling Namjoon. Red streams from your captain’s side and his eyes flutter shut. Panicking, you fall to the dirt and put pressure on the gash, trying to stem the flow. You look to Yoongi, struggling to understand what just occurred.

“He stabbed Namjoon.” the Commander grits, “Stabbed him and snatched the communicator.”

Seokjin leans back in the command chair, toggling the buttons on the side. Pressing each one at random, he marvels at their functions.

“You shouldn’t play around with the controls,” Officer Kumari states, coming to his side.

Seokjin flinches, spooked at the silence with which the Andorian crept up next to him. He grins sheepishly at her and she rolls her bright yellow eyes, moving away.

“Can someone inform me why I’m on the comms?” Taehyung calls out from his seat.

Seokjin swivels to face the engineer. “Because I’ve been left in charge of this spacecraft and I say that you’re on the comms. Don’t make me write you up for insubordination.”

Before Taehyung has the chance to retort that the pilot doesn’t even have the authority to censure him, his communicator beeps urgently. He flashes Seokjin a look to say that this argument wasn’t over and flips open the device.

“Vanguard here, go ahead Captain.”

“Hello? Can you hear me?” A shaky voice calls out.

Standing up in surprise, Seokjin comes closer to listen. “Jimin? Is that you?”

“Yes! I need help, beam me up now!”

Confused, Taehyung looks up at Seokjin. “Jimin, where are the others? Where’s the Captain?”

“The others betrayed us!” The disembodied voice rushes out, sounding strained, “They decided to join with the invaders and when the Captain objected, they stabbed him! I barely got away!”

At that, everyone on the bridge stands up in alarm. There’s an exchange of shocked whispers and murmurs as they look to the pair speaking into the communicator.

Brow furrowed, Seokjin straightens up and begins walking to the transporter room. The others follow him, intent on seeing firsthand what was happening. Only Taehyung remains behind, still speaking into the device.

“Jimin, are you-are you absolutely sure that’s what happened?”

“Yes!” The boy cries out, sounding close to tears, “And I need you to save me before-“

His voice cuts off as he’s beamed up. Taehyung drops the communicator to his lap, head shaking in disbelief.

“I don’t believe it,” he mutters to himself quietly.

“Keep pressing down here. I’ll tie it off.” You direct Yoongi, reaching to loop together the sleeves of Namjoon’s shirt into a knot. You’re using it as a makeshift bandage, trying to prevent him from losing any more blood. The injured man winces in pain as Yoongi leans against him.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I just-“

“I know, Commander.” Namjoon shuddered, resting his head back into the other man’s lap.

A moment passes and then Yoongi continues. “I’ll kill him for this, I swear.”

Namjoon shakes his head and smiles faintly. “You know, in a way, I kind of admire him.”

Both of you look at him in shock, prompting him to further explain.

“I mean, he’s really no different from us. Each officer up there on our ship has dedicated their lives to boldly go. Much like them, he just wants to be a part of that mission. He might be a psychopath, but he has the determination to see it through.”

“You’re delirious.” You mutter, finishing up the knot and looking to Yoongi. “What are we going to do? Jimin took the communicator.”

“He used the escape pod’s comms panel once,” he gestures towards the vessel a few yards away, “I bet we can do it again.”

You nod and stand up, leaning down to grab Namjoon’s legs. Yoongi gets your idea and clutches the man’s arms. Together, you try lifting him, but he yowls in agony.

“Leave me here,” he pants out, squinting his eyes shut from the pain, “I won’t be going anywhere.”

Reluctantly, you and the other man hurry to the escape pod and step in. Letting Yoongi experiment with the dials, you rummage through the piles of notes, trying to see if anything useful was left behind. Both of you are sweating heavily, beads of perspiration sliding down your neck. It’s not so much from the sweltering heat, but from the urgency of your situation.

“Did you fix it?” You spin to look at Yoongi, unable to find any documents relevant to the communications system.

“If this took Jimin years to work, I doubt I’m going to figure it out in a minute.” He snaps, fiddling with the controls.

Your shoulders fall and you squat next to the man sitting in the seat, gently placing your hand on his thigh.

“Yoongi. Are you okay?”

“You can’t keep doing this to me, Yoongi.” You sigh, blocking the door to your room with your body.

“C’mon,” the man drawls, voice dripping with tequila, “I just wanna sleep next to you.”

You shake your head, intent on turning him away. He wasn’t going to slither into your bed tonight.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Then we should hurry and go to sleep,” he sidles closer to you, smirking.

You squeeze your eyes shut and look up, taking a breath.

“Yoongi, I know you drink because you have your own demons to deal with. But I can’t let you come here every time when you’re boozed up and use me as some way to forget it all. I’m not a container for your pain.”

“Ooh, how you wound me,” he grins at you, though the spark has gone from his eyes. “What if I order you to let me in?”

“Goodnight, Commander.” You reply, slamming the door in his face.

Yoongi stares at you, taking in the current moment. “No. But I will be.”

You nod and let him return to the controls. The air in the pod has shifted and his breath evens out, moving to adjust the dials more methodically. In a few minutes, he gets the archaic machine to give a weak beep. Quickly, he punches in the requisite channel code and waits.

“Can it record video?” You ask, referring to how Jimin sent his own distress signal.

He shakes his head in response, pointing to the webcam that had been smashed in. “He must have tried destroying it to prevent anyone else from using it.”

There’s a tinge of static, then the crackling sound of a connection.

“Vanguard here, with who am I speaking?”

“Taehyung?” You exclaim in surprise, grabbing the microphone from Yoongi, “Beam us up!”

“Wait-what? What are you guys doing?”

“Officer, beam us up right the fuck now.” The man next to you barks.

“Jesus, okay! Hold on!” The line goes dead.

You look at Yoongi, nervous. “Do you think he’ll be able to locate us without our coordinates?”

He shrugs, unsure. “He can probably track-“

Then the two of you disappear in a whirl of light and particles.

With a thud, you land on your ass in the transport chamber back aboard the ship. There’s a grunt of pain beside you and you turn to see Yoongi, rubbing his back.

“Oh my god.”

Taehyung is sitting at the control panel, staring at both of you in shock. Leaping up, you race over to him and he gathers you in his arms.

“I thought you joined the invaders,” he hums into your hair. Your forehead creases in confusion and you lean back to peer at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jimin.” he states by way of explaining, “He came back and said you betrayed us and stabbed Namjoon.”

Yoongi joins the two of you, still massaging his back. “He’s full of shit. And speaking of our captain, where is he?”

“What do you mean?” The engineer questions, looking between both you. “I located you guys using your heat signals. Yours were the only two I found.”

“Incompetent,” Yoongi mutters.

You hurry to the controls and set about on the task of finding Namjoon. However, try as you might, the sensors don’t pick anything up. You hit the buttons again and again, afraid to accept the only possible explanation.

“Do you think he already got back somehow?” Taehyung asks, unaware.

“Maybe-maybe it’s the temperature of the environment, maybe it’s blocking the sensors from recognizing him,” Yoongi stammers out, truly shaken for the first time the whole day.

You sit back in defeat, shaking your head. “No.”

The commander falls to his knees, hands covering his face. “We were too late.”

The silence in the room is broken by a gruff voice from behind you.

“What’s happening here?”

All of you spin to see the transport officer standing at the entrance, eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you and Yoongi.

“Nozos, buddy, wait-“ Taehyung tries to plead. But it’s too late.

“Sir,” the Klingon hits the speaker button beside the door and barks into it, “The traitors are here.”

Yoongi is pacing back and forth; restless from the hours the three of you have been locked in the holding bay. You’re standing at one of the portholes, gazing down at the planet where you knew your captain’s body lay.

“Commander, how do we know if this is going to work? What if he doesn’t even-“

“It’s going to work, Taehyung!” Yoongi snaps at the boy. “We have no other options.”

You lean against the window and look at the man. “How are you so sure he’ll come?”

He snorts. “Call it a sibling’s intuition.”

Taehyung glances at you, confusion coloring his face. You shake your head and begin pacing yourself, anxious for what’s to come.

A few minutes pass, then the doors to the bay slide open. A red shirt security agent marches through. And accompanying him is Jimin. It takes everything in you not to dive at the boy, anger crawling over you at the nervous look plastered across his face.

“The visitor wanted to see you all.” The agent explains standing off to the side. Jimin nods, then turns to him to ask if they could be alone, just for a moment. The agent hesitates for a moment, then acquiesces, clearly taken in by the boy’s innocent demeanor.

Jimin’s mouth stretches into a smirk as soon as the man exits. “I really didn’t think you would make it back.”

“Lucky we’re smarter than you.” Yoongi retorts.

“What do you want from us, Jimin?” You inquire, eager to get this over with, “Why did you come here?”

He gazes at you, an almost melancholy look crossing his face. “You know I tried warning you. Really, you were the last person I wanted to be tied up in this.”

“I don’t believe you’re capable of emotions.” Yoongi spits, stepping in front of you to block the alien’s stare.

The boy chuckles and shakes his head. “I just came to say goodbye. I know I did this to you, but I’ll still miss you all the same, brother.”

“Don’t call me that. You’re no blood of mine.” The man accused.

Jimin’s eyes glowered. “Do you still think you’re better than me, Yoongi? Being daddy’s full human son won’t save you now. I won and soon, you’ll be as dead as your precious father and captain.”

Yoongi twitches forward and you grab at his arm, holding him back. Silence falls over the space for a second. Then Taehyung lifts the communicator from behind his back up to his mouth.

“Did you get that, Seokjin?”

The doors to the bay slide open and the pilot steps through, followed by a horde of security agents. “Oh, I got it.” He announces.

Jimin whips around to look at the entrance, then turns back to the three of you, realization slowly dawning on his face.

“Who won now?” You smirk at him. His features are blank for a moment, then twist into a look of rage. Suddenly, he lunges and you see a glint of sharpened silver. Yoongi leaps in front of you and tackles the boy, both thumping hard on the ground, locked in a scuffle. There’s a spurt of red and then a scream.

The sunlight is blinding, making you squint to see through its beams. Beside you is Taehyung, both of you dressed in the standard red uniform of Starfleet Academy. The director stands in front of a crowd of you and your fellow classmates, reading off the names of the graduates and their new starship assignments.

“Yar, Tasha. U.S.S. Atlas.”

Polite applause and cheers follow. Taehyung looks at you and pouts, despite the momentous occasion.

“Tae, what could you possibly be upset about?” You whisper at him, clapping at the next name announced.

“What if we’re not on the same ship together?”

You smile fondly and hold his hand. “I’ll beam over to wherever you are every chance I get.”

His pout lessens. “Promise?”

You open your mouth to respond right as your name is called. Straightening up quickly, you walk over to accept your diploma and assignment from your director. Then you move to the side, opening one of the documents to run your eyes over the name of the starship you’ll be stationed on. The U.S.S. Vanguard.

Looking back up to avoid appearing rude, you watch as the rest of the names are called in succession.

“Laren, Ro. U.S.S. Falcon.”

“Celes, Toi. U.S.S. Navigator.”

“Kim, Taehyung. U.S.S. Vanguard.”

You jump in shock, clapping louder than anyone in the audience. Your friend bounds up the stage to shake the director’s hand, then races down to envelop you in a hug. You grip him tightly, astonished at your luck in receiving the same post. Although you played it off earlier, you knew you would have been miserable without him around.

Holding onto each other, you watch as the ceremony concludes with the usual pomp and circumstance. Then there’s the sound of someone politely clearing their throat behind you. The pair of you rotates to see a tall, lanky man dressed in the ceremonial garb of a Starfleet captain.

“I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Namjoon and I am the captain of the ship to which you are both assigned.” He sticks out his hand to shake.

Both of you introduce yourselves, smiling nervously at your new commanding officer. He looks around, as if searching for someone.

“My second-in-command is somewhere around here-“

“Right here, captain.” A shorter man replies, walking up to Namjoon’s side. “Commander Yoongi, reporting for duty.”

Taehyung shakes his hand first and then the Commander turns to face you, hand outstretched. You smile softly, reaching out towards him. He blinks, then smiles in return, lips drawing up to reveal his gums.

“Good to meet you.”

“We are gathered here today to commemorate a fallen officer.”

You reflect on that memory, sunlight shining just as bright today as it was then. Around you is a crowd of people, all dressed in black.

“Though we may feel a sense of loss, of despair, it is all a testament to the powerful impact he’s had on all our lives.”

A sniffle is heard in the audience. You close your eyes, irritated. No one here knew him, no one here watched him take his last few shuddering breaths like you did.

“Today, our comrade has returned to the stars from which he came. We gather to honor him.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you don’t shed a tear, eyes having been dried out days ago from sobbing. Instead, you open them and look to the man officiating the funeral service.

“He was a brother, a son, a friend.” Yoongi recites, meeting your eyes, “But most of all, Kim Namjoon was our captain.”

You let out a shaky breath and turn your head to the sky, allowing yourself to be blinded by the sunlight.

Eventually, the service ends. You remain in your seat, ignoring the people getting up and walking by you. A body fills the seat to your right.

“How was it?” Yoongi asks, voice gentle.

“Beautiful,” you reply sincerely, gazing ahead at the casket in front.

He nods, taking your hand in his. “Do you want to know how I plan to honor Namjoon?”

You keep your eyes forward. “How’s that?”

“He always said what was on his mind. Even if he got mocked for it, even if he got called delirious for it.”

You feel your heart squeeze in its rib cage.

“He was determined never to leave this earth without saying what his heart felt, no matter the consequences. I think it’s something I should start doing myself.”

You finally turn to face Yoongi, a mix of emotions welling up within you. “Yeah?”

He smiles softly and leans in to kiss you, his most tender one yet. Against your lips, he murmurs.

“Yeah.”

end note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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mylonelyangel · 6 years ago

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Good Omens: A Study in Comedy

A couple years ago in my senior year of high school, my English teacher had told us for our last essay of the year, to pick any novel by any notable author, and write about it. I picked Good Omens cause i happened to be reading it at the time, but this essay was legit the most fun I’ve ever had writing an essay. I figured with the show coming out at @neil-gaiman being on tumblr, I might as well post it here were people might enjoy it.

Its about why Good Omens is successful as a comedy. It’s kinda long so it’s gonna go beneath a cut. But yeah here it is. (Also apologies for the formatting I cant figure out how to make this thing readable. rn it looks a lot better on desktop than mobile. Any suggestions on that are welcome)

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In the world of entertainment-- be that film, TV, literature, etc. -- comedy is hard. It’s hard to act, it’s hard to write, and it takes real talent to do comedy well. Often, comedy goes underappreciated in the professional world; however, Good Omens seems to be an exception. In writing the forward to their book, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman describe the many well-read and deteriorating copies of Good Omens that they have had the pleasure of signing. From books dropped in bathtubs and puddles, to pages being held together by packing tape, clearly, the book is well loved by many. The unique quality of this novel is that rather than a “laugh-out-loud” humor, Pratchett and Gaiman aimed for a more subtle, ironic humor adding up to a satire that teaches a lesson on the importance of humanity and compassion. All in all, Good Omens is a delightfully witty and entertaining book that is sure to please any avid reader.

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Biography

It was the year 1989 when Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett decided to combine efforts in writing Good Omens. At the time, Gaiman was 29. He was born in Hampshire UK in 1960 and grew up frequently visiting his local library, developing a life-long love for reading. After briefly pursuing a career in journalism, he soon became interested in writing comic books. The Sandman is one of Gaiman’s most notable graphic novel works. It won several awards including three Harvey Awards, nine Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards, and the 1991 World Fantasy Award for Best Short Story, becoming the first comic to every receive a literary award. After gaining this success, Gaiman has gone on to expand his resume by working in film and television. He’s written and directed two films: A Short Film About John Bolton (2002) and Statueque (2009). Most recently, Gaiman is writing for the television series adaption of his book, American Gods, set to premier on April 30, 2017 on Starz.

Gaiman’s writing companion, Terry Pratchett, was born in Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire in 1948. He had a passion for writing from a young age, publishing his first story, “The Hades Business” in his school magazine at age thirteen. Four years later at age seventeen, Pratchett dropped out of school to pursue journalism. It was in this line of work that he came into contact with his first publisher, Colin Smythe, and through him published his first book in 1971, The Carpet People. Smythe remained a close friend of Pratchett and in 1983 published the first book of Pratchett’s phenomenally successful series: Discworld. At this time, Pratchett worked for the Central Electricity Generating Board as a press officer. Four books into his Discworld series, Pratchett decided to become a full time writer. After a long and successful career, unfortunately in 2007 Pratchett was diagnosed with a rare form of Alzheimer’s called Posterior Cortical Atrophy. He lived the last years of his life very well; in 2009, he was knighted by the Queen for his services to literature and in 2013 he presented a documentary discussing the controversial topic of assisted dying. Terry Pratchett: Choosing to Die won both an Emmy and a BAFTA. Despite campaigning for assisted dying, Terry did not choose to take his own life and died peacefully surrounded by family in March 2015.

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Extended Analysis

The comedy collaboration Good Omens has been deemed by many to be a great novel. Critics praise the unique blend of writing styles for making this novel a success, but to understand what makes the comedic genius of Good Omens, one must ask what precisely makes it funny. This novel is a satire; it comments on existentialist ideas surrounding humanity and the responsibility humans have over their own actions for better or for worse. In order to emphasize their novel as an unexpectedly witty and socially relevant satire, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett use several literary devices such as repetition, mood, and irony. In a remarkable world belonging to angels and demons who wish to bring about the apocalypse, the air of abnormality must be maintained throughout the novel; comedy only follows naturally.

In order to emphasize the absurdity of the events in Good Omens, the authors often used repetition in describing people or events. Given that this book revolves around the events of Armageddon, absurdity is not hard to come by; it is precisely what enforces the satire nature of the novel. For instance, the Antichrist is first described to the reader as “a golden haired male baby we will call the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness” (Gaiman 27). Not only does the baby have this long list of titles, but he is referred to as such several more times in the next few pages. This description is a means to bring attention to the oddness of the situation and the repetition serves to emphasize it. Another interesting use of repetition is a scene in which the events of the evening are being narrated by an irritable man named R. P. Tyler; a man who not only believes himself to be the sole decider of right and wrong in the world, but that it is his responsibility to pronounce his wisdom unto others via the letter column of the Tadfield Adviser. This man is the epitome of arrogant old men and on the afternoon of Armageddon, finds himself directing several parties of odd people to the same location. In the eyes of the reader, all of the characters introduced thus far are arriving to the small English town of Tadfield for the start of the apocalypse. The events are rumored to take place at the Lower Tadfield Air Base and in succession, R. P. Tyler encounters four groups of people going to the Airfield within a span of 30 minutes (Gaiman 325-336). The result is a comedic effect that brings all separate storylines back to the same page. The repetition of events is what brought to R. P. Tyler’s attention to the odd occurrences in Tadfield. As the man met group after group, he quickly becomes more flustered and his figurative bubble of normality is cracking until Crowley’s arrival: “There was a large once-black car on fire in the lane and a man in sunglasses was leaning out the window, saying through the smoke “I’m sorry, I’ve managed to get a little lost. Can you direct me to the Lower Tadfield Air Base? I know it’s around here somewhere”” (Gaiman 334). One can safely say that after this event, R. P. Tyler no longer has a figurative bubble of normality.

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One of the highlights of Good Omens is the comical language in which it is written, setting an air for the absurd to be normalized and the mundane to receive an exaggerated retelling. An ambiance of abnormality is maintained throughout the entire novel through methods of over-explaining minute details. For instance, as the first proceedings of Armageddon are set into motion, the scene is set with the following depiction:

“It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. It should have been, but that’s the weather for you. For every mad scientist who’s had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who’s sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime” (Gaiman 14).

This description of the setting contributes to a lighthearted mood despite the impending apocalypse. It feels as though the authors are making polite conversation as the story progresses, and this style of writing is used throughout the novel. Later on, a scene occurs in which a demon kills a room full of telemarketers and the aftermath is described as follows: “. . . a wave of low-grade goodness started to spread exponentially through the population and millions of people who ultimately would not have suffered minor bruises of the soul did not in fact do so” (Gaiman 308). The elegance in which that sentence is written gives the reader a sense of understanding in that the authors are not technically wrong in their description. The line is satirical and for many readers, felt on a personal level. The witty line does not fail in upholding the absurd and exceedingly nonchalant atmosphere. This style brings to light underlying truths of humanity that one may not acknowledge in a day to day basis, but are true nonetheless. Through this recognition of distinctly human emotions and struggles, Gaiman and Pratchett succeed in creating an engaging environment in which the reader is both reflective and entertained by their story.

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The irony in Good Omens lies within the ongoing discussion of humanity and the importance of free will. As Heaven and Hell prepare for Armageddon, the key to its commencement lies in the hands of the Antichrist. However, the Antichrist ends up being much more human than either side predicted. As usual, the demon Crowley and angel Aziraphale come to this conclusion long before their superiors:

““Because if I know anything,” said Crowley urgently, “it’s that the birth is just the start. It’s the upbringing that’s important. It’s the influences. Otherwise it will never learn to use its powers.” . . .

“You’re saying the child isn’t evil of itself?” [Aziraphale] said slowly.

“Potentially evil. Potentially good, too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped.” said Crowley” (Gaiman 58).

Given that Adam the Antichrist grew up in the absence of any supernatural influence, he naturally became a very pure and innocent child who only wanted save the environment and read conspiracy theory magazines. In fact, unaware of his power and heritage, he was involuntarily at fault for the rise of Atlantis and the visitations of aliens. His deep love for the planet also allowed for his subconscious to grow rain forests in the thick of cities and to turn 500 tons of Uranium into a lemon drop. In a book that satirizes the meanings of good and evil, it is very ironic that the Antichrist has the greatest amount of love to give. As observed by local witch, Anathema: “Something or someone loves this place. Loves every inch of it so powerfully that it shields and protects it. A deep-down, huge, fierce love. How can anything bad start here?” (Gaiman 229). It is reiterated several times throughout the book that humans are their own worst enemy. They are the ones who have free will, therefore they choose whether to act good or evil. Demons and angels have no choice in this respect. Gaiman and Pratchett make clear to their audience that humans must value their free will, spread love and live life to its fullest. If the Antichrist can do it, so can you.

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When reflecting on the comedic success of Good Omens, one can conclude that Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett are masters at their craft. This wonderfully composed work of fiction succeeds in satirizing the inner workings of human nature in that the supernatural can do no worse to humans than humans already do to themselves. Stylistically, Gaiman and Pratchett create a casual environment that highlights the absurd events by using techniques such as irony, mood, and repetition. The result is a clever and profound lesson on the importance of love in the human experience taught not by those who are human, but those who act with the most humanity.

#good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #aziraphale #crowley

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fanesavin · 6 years ago

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The day following the Quiver meeting the Driftwood Princes, Grand Lady Cassandra and Lady Ciara walk to town to find a measure of the reaction to the passing of the High Raj and instil some hope. Meanwhile, rumours stir.

@bumblingbrujo / @ianncardero / @cassiegermaine / @thatwhichbindsus

The announcements were scribed, and given to the Inquisitor to read over and give his sign-off. The first paperwork of the High Inquisition; but important paperwork, nonetheless. Because words were just as powerful as anything else, to set the tone of a city waiting on tenterhooks for news from the Bluesprings Castle.

Prince Iann and Grand Lady Cassandra spent the night working on making two announcements, to be read out loud in the piazzas and markets, and also posted side by side on walls, boards, and doors around the city. Extra enforcement was supplied by various Houses to stand by as the announcements were made, but to assume a more casual stance depending on what part of the city they were in.

The announcements were twofold: one to state the death of the High Raj. It was not stated as murder, but a tragic death that should be greatly mourned by all during a Three-day period of grief wherein the people observe the rites of mourning, visit the Cloverry often for alms, and wait for the funeral to open the city up again. A curfew has been implied. The second announcement was that a second Inquisition had now been instated in the Capital by the High Inquisitor of the North and Dawnguard Commander, Stefan Savin. The Inquisition swore to remain in power only until a new High Raj was found. As Avitej had no heirs and there was no one else in House Sharma suited to rule, it was a given that the Inquisition had to look elsewhere for this resolution to be carried out. But there was a strong assurance and guarantee that they would indeed get a High Raj, and unification of Bluesprings, and peace in the realm.

It was expected, natural really for fights and skirmishes to break out. Minor lords and wealthy members of the merchants in the Upper City gathered at the closed Gates of the Keep, believing it was some haven there and frightened that the commoners might try to take advantage of the tragedy. Those Lower City tested their limits to see how much they could get away with in the chaos. The people who lived on the outskirts of the Capital continued their daily slog - fishing and farming and defending their lands from brigands, but wary of being plunged once more into this world of uncertainty and potential upheaval.

Within the confines of the Bluesprings Keep, the nobles actually do put in the work to achieve these goals. Despite the chaos, they have progressed and accomplished a lot - if one counted preserving lives as an accomplishment. Some in the Keep do, while others couldn't care less; but the point was that war was still a nightmareish memory that no one wanted to return to.

NOTE: the Gates are not officially open, but nobles do have the option of venturing out independently (with guards etc) into other parts of the city. They must return to the Keep afterwards though; please do not let your characters gather & remain outside the Keep! Thank you!~

The bells tolled constantly now, or at least it seemed that way. Iann was vaguely unfamiliar with the Rites of Mourning in the Capital, but he found some servant to fetch him a tome on such policy soon enough, skimming it over. Bells and Cloverry solemnity and the Upper City wore black, while everyone else wore black armbands and generally wandered around looking very sad. Fish and venison were the only meats allowed, pig and poultry forbidden, not that most people could afford anything more than fish anyway, so their diets would hardly have to change unless they were being particularly pious. The merchants and artisans were trying to out-do each other with their demonstrations of mourning and piety. The sale of candles and death-paper went up - a paper that one burned to ashes while saying prayers, and the ashes were then written onto the person's skin. It was all just traditional nonsense to Iann, but it kept people busy and occupied in between their daily lives. The presence of soldiers helped as well, of course. Although he'd heard already of House soldiers getting into a fight here and there - not the commonfolk, but the soldiers themselves. Iann wanted to leave, badly. He stood at one of the balconies overlooking the city, giving him a beautiful view of his own five ships in the harbour. Five more would join them by tonight, creating a strong presence around the city's coast, and of course indirectly competition for the fishermen who fished these coasts. His men needed to eat too, after all.

Tuah held himself back during the early investigation, preferring to listen rather than voicing his opinion when it was unnecessary. With Fane leading the investigation, he felt he had nothing else to contribute, other than perhaps be a sound board for the High Inquisitor to bounce his ideas on. The councils were already pointed, and he had no doubt that they would take this opportunity to show their prowess, being the first few that offered their armies. He couldn’t spare his army, feeling that they were better be put to use guarding his own small country than the chaos in the capital. So he was left alone to his own device for now, until it was required for him to play nice with other Houses once more. His gaze fell onto the crown and the throne on the dais, the sun shone brightly behind it just as it did yesterday. But instead of filling him with hope, it only made him mourn on the things of what could have been. He heaved a quiet sigh and slowly made his way towards the throne, gently placing his hand on the frame, his head bowed.

"Here," Ciara said, carefully pinning the hem of a young servant girl in the corner of the courtyard. It had blood stains from the high Raj on it, from cleaning up the drips of the throne room when he'd been carried away. She had no other clothes, but Ciara had enough skill to notice that the young girl had been trying to hide it, and was miserable in her failing. A moment's kindnes might cost her the court's opinion, but often enough her face was enough for that. Her silence did the rest. "Clean your face, and you'll be fit for service." This was not one of her mice, but to be seen helping someone random made her own spies more loyal. Besides, it was an easy distraction. She smiled kindly as the maid wiped her tears and curtsied, and hurried down out of the courtyard, but her face fixed in the position, her mind slipping out of focus as she stared at the now closing door.

Movement in the courtyard below the balcony caught Iann's eye, and it took a moment for him to recognize Lady Ciara down there, attending to some servant girl. The girl was sobbing - most of the servants were, they clearly loved the High Raj and this new installation of the Inquisition so suddenly in the Castle threw all their working systems and loyalties into a tizzy - but the Lady seemed to be comforting her, or reassuring her, or something. Iann was no fool; he knew servants were carriers of rumour and gossip, like an infectious plague that spread and shared between them until it either died away or the were all infected. The temperature of the servants was as important as the moods of the nobles who now stayed here. Still, he didn't move, observing Ciara as she seemed to be observing something hidden within the inside of her skull. He did cough though, loudly. Enough that it would echo in the courtyard below.

Ciara startled at the cough, and looked up at lord Iann above. It was no real cough, and there weren't many out there for him to be signalling. She looked up at him, squinting at the bright sunlight. There was no way for her to call back at him in a dignified way, so all she did was tilt her head, and walked to a spot out of the sun, on an ornate bench.

It looked to Iann as much of an invitation as he currently felt curious. Being locked up in the Keep was a good idea of course - especially as news trickled in on the state of the Capital. The Inquisitor might soon allow the Gates to open up again, but until then they were as much caged as the people out there were kept out. He disappeared from the balcony and came down to the courtyard. Iann paused a few feet away from where Lady Ciara still sat. "At this rate you might think that I'm purposely hunting you; but I assure you, Lady Ciara - you are no white-gold Whale of the West."

"I don't know enough of the beast to understand the level of reassurance there, Lord Iann, but do not worry that I think you are hunting me. I simply assume that you are bored. No great adventures to be had." Ciara replied, with a calm, quiet demeanor. She was staring, again, into the distance. Over the city. It was impossible to find quiet in this place, never mind peace.

Miguel walked through the courtyard on his way to bring Faye and Danian more books and scrolls he had found that might be useful. He tried to walk through the courtyard as much as possible, he had the same wanderlust as his brother, and being locked up in a keep was keeping him tightly wound. The courtyard was an inkling of freedom, at least enough sunlight to warm his face, and enough breeze to clean his lungs. And of course, it helped to keep an eye on Iann. He was bothering the scarred lady and Miguel walked out of his straight line path to stand at his brother's side, knowing that his presence alone would annoy Iann, and taking enjoyment from that fact. "Hello Iann, hello Lady Ciara. I would say good-morning, but that might seem a little treasonous." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Still, the sun shines."

Cassie had collected the small pouch of coins and guards she would be needing for her visit out in the city. She stood out in the courtyard, waiting for one of the stable hands to bring her horse and Adeline's pony. The princesss had stood obidently next to her mother only for so long before a fountain captured her attention, and the girl with flaming red hair began tossing stones inside and dipping her hands in the water to retrieve them. Cassandra turned when she heard the soft sobs, and frowned seeing the maid and Ciara. She took a step forward, but then her brother in law announced himself from the balcony and Cassie could only stare up at him, "Don't fib to the poor girl. You have some vipor about you."

"Still the sun shines," Iann replied slowly, as he watched Miguel approach with that respectful but infuriatingly earnest way. He'd dimmed his chipperness out of respect of course, but somehow still managed to come off as pleasant even during mourning. It was irritating. Sure of course people had varying degrees of actual grief for the High Raj - the shock Iann felt from the murder had faded fast; his prevention of chaos in the streets was a strategic move, nothing particularly to do with the High Raj's honor. Plus in retrospect it was satisfying to slaughter that Sharma Herald. People even commended Iann for his actions after all. But Miguel managed to make his strategy far more effortless. Arms folded and one hand tapping at his chin, Iann turned and spotted Cassandra in riding clothes. "Where are you going, Grand Lady? With the Princess?"

Arin had nearly chewed his thumbnail down to the bone. Every sound, every scrape of a boot or cough in the distance had him on edge. The corridor was little used, mostly housing random bits of furniture or things stuck there and forgotten. "I'm telling you, it'll be us next. Just you wait,' he whispered to his companion. "That fucking fool acted on his own and now he's got the gods damned Inquisitor to deal with..."

Cassie blinked at Iann's question, tilting her head slightly to the side. She motioned between her and Adeline still at the fountain, "Why we're going out to console and provide alms to the people. It was your suggestion at yesterday's Quiver after all. As we all try to keep the pieces together behind castle walls, the people will want to see from one of us."

Iann smiled, grim amusement. "It was my suggestion to provide alms. It was your idea to go yourself and extend your hand with grace and charity." He saw that his Knight Harrison was waiting there as well, ready to guard Cassandra and the little Princess. "After that kidnapping attempt from Kesley yesterday, it would seem quite brave of you to go out there for the people..." And there was still supposedly a kidnapper out there, the one his knives didn't strike. He made a decision then. "Very well, I shall accompany you." He turned to Lady Ciara and bowed. "It seems adventure's found me after all."

Elia held onto Arin's arm as they walked, "m'lady isn't impressed... I overheard her and Lord Kesley consider his imprisonment a slight on their honour." She shook her head, "he acted on his own but was he wrong?" She lowered her voice more conspiratorial "they've let witches and wolfmen through the gates... Have they all lost their wits?"

"Lord Cardero," she greeted Miguel with a soft smile, finding herself suddenly with even less peace than before. "If the sun were to stop for us then we would know the end was truly coming." She looked to Queen Cassandra and Adelina, tilting her head in admiration. "It will do the people good," she agreed. Adeline had been at each meeting until now - courtesy of a protective mother, and yet Ciara couldn't help marvel at the little wonder. Pristine and Beautiful, and would remember none of this, if they resolved it now.

Miguel watched his brother go. "Stay safe," he said lightly. He had plans for Iann yet - and time to enact them if he would be out with Cassandra and Adeline. "Very true, Lady Ciara." Miguel glanced up at the blue sky. "Though it's comforting, is it not? The sea and sky don't care much for what we do above or below them."

"It is a slight to their honor," Arin said lowly. "And m'lady is never impressed on the best of days. Let alone when someone moves without her say. Gods..." Arin made a disgusted sound. "Wrong? For acting alone, yes. But for the rest, no. Someone has to show the people that there are monsters among us..."

"Safe travels, my lady," Ciara said, glancing to the guardsmen that came to accompany them. One little mouse amongst them all. She wished no such thing to lord Iann, but to watch him go left the strangest twinge in her stomach. Perhaps it was the events of the last days catching up with her. "It brings me no comfort," she told Miguel, watching as the gates began to open. "We are the ones who must live in our world, after all."

Cassie stared back at her brother for a moment and then smiled, "Very well, I'm sure Adeline will enjoy your company. You're ready now then?" She prompted, seeing a stable hand coming up the walk with a pair of mounts. Cassie quickly settled Adeline into her own small saddle before taking her mares riens and telling the stable hand to fetch another horse for Iann.

Iann gave a haughty and dismissive nod at his brother before following Cassandra back to the stables. He disliked horses in general, and he especially hated using a horse that wasn't his own. Iann waved his hand to dismiss the old nag being brought towards him. "I'll walk," he said shortly, staying beside Adeline's pony. He kept his hand on the pony's mane. A glance over his shoulder as they headed to the gate, towards Miguel and the Lady Ciara. Something about it left a sick bilious taste in the back of his throat, and Iann looked away. He was glad to turn his attention to keeping vigilance while Cassandra did her charitable acts among the commonfolk.

"No, she isn't but Josef never had much in terms of wits did he..." she gripped Arin's arm a little tighter leaning in as she spoke "I heard the witch burned his eyes right out of his head with her magic..." Elia made an equally disgusted noise frowning "and, what's worse it's not just one... but two witches they let sit on the council?"

"No, he didn't," Arin agreed. "Though it may fall in his favor if he can claim to be feeble-minded. Though I doubt he's that clever." Arin laid his hand over Elia's where she gripped his arm. His already wane features tightened. "Aye. I heard so as well." He lowered his voice, stopping to turn to Elia. "There /has/ to be some... enchantment at work there. Something that's... poisoning their minds. Clouding their judgements." He looked back down the corridor. "Don't you think it odd that the first ruler in ages was murdered in a room full of people... without a hand being laid on him? At the same time as two witches happen to be in the city? When was the last time you heard of such creatures? Let alone saw one?"

Cassie sighed at Iann's blatant dislike of the horses. She knew the man was used to ships and the sea, but a loyal mount really something valuble if he ever sought to give it the time. "Fine." Cassie waved her hand in dismissal, not caring how Iann tagged along, as long as they got started. While Cassandra was distracted with the task at hand (and occasionally fixing the toddlers posture on her pony) she noticed the weary glances Iann had back to the castle gates. "I see you and Miguel are getting along as well as ever." She commented sarcastically, trying to see if her brother would elaborate on his feelings at all.

Miguel pursed his lips. He could see what she meant, but he wanted to lighten her mood at least a little - to endear himself in some way to this enigmatic lady. She reminded him of Lady Lacroy, and he wondered if he had a problem with trying to ally to underdogs. "Is it no comfort at all when you think there is something that you can always depend on that does not rely upon you?" He shook his head. "When I'm weary of responsibility, it can be something to ground the mind and slow the tensing of the muscles."

Iann glanced up at Cassandra, wanting to trust her but when it came to matters of his brother, he was unable to trust anyone except his own people. "Which of us do you prefer? And don't pretend at being impartial - I know you must have a favourite. Everyone does," Iann stated, then pet Adeline's straight, laced-up back, as he smiled. "I know at least who her favourite is. Second only to her dear mother, of course. Isn't that right, Princess."

Cassie laughed when he asked who her favorite was. She thought about it for a moment before answering, "Your brother Juan, my dear husband." Which she knew was not the answer Iann was looking for, but her husband however absent, was one of the brothers. Besides, it kept her from chosing sides so blatantly. Adeline glanced back to Iann and smiled, before a few people moving just outside the castle gates caught her attention and she waved with a small shy smile, blue eyes wide as the streets and city continued to open to them.

"Perhaps if you phrase it like that," Ciara acquiesced, shifting in her seat slightly. "But the sun can be unforgiving." She looked up at him, with a flicker of amusement. "You sound like a healer. Relaxing the muscles is not something I'm well suited for. I would rather be out in the forests, but here we are. At least you have family to entertain you." Ciara knew full well that was incorrect - even her small observations of them showed endless squabbling.

Iann couldn't help but smile at Cassandra's answer. It was, after all, the perfect answer and once more confirmed to Iann the kind of person - and leader - Cassandra was. He watched as Adelina waved shyly to the people, who were naturally entranced by the child. Iann was tempted to indulge in the adulation as well, but it was good that he was on foot. He didn't want to be a part of this charistable show, so much as an escort to the Queen and Princess, in Juan's absence. The Upper City was bound to adore the beautiful young queen and her cherubic child. But Iann still has misgivings about going to the Lower City. "Shall we head to the Cloverry Cathedral? It's where they allow the poor to assemble during Mourning Rites."

Miguel looked at her and blinked a moment, and then he laughed. "Oh no, I'm far from a healer. I'll admit, I find the work of physicians and alchemists interesting, but... it's not for me." He took a chance and sat beside the Lady. "Truly, the woods?" The side of his mouth turned up in a little smirk. "You seem so well suited to the capitol. Do you have no family here?"

"I dread to think of what they're doing to him, and the Inquisitor didn't even see the justice in his act... Instead he chose to protect the witch... And he dares to call himself a man of the people." Arin spoke the only sense that she'd heard, "they must be bewitched... Lord and Lady Kesley are the only ones seeing sense, the only ones that want to protect us..." They turned and walked a little way, "I never have," Elia shook her head, "pray to the gods I never do but I've heard rumours about them, they paint themselves in the blood of innocents and bring death on all they touch." She grew quiet as they moved, eyes downcast to keep from drawing attention "it's our duty to make others aware of who is truly responsible for the death of our beloved Raj... They deserve to know the truth."

Cassie nodded in agreement "The Cathedral it is then." She watched Adeline with her own amount of admiration. The waves and greetings could improve of course, but that would come along with years. Currently, cherubric cheeks seemed to cover up any imperfections. Luckily, the Cathedral was not so far away from the castle, and before they even reached the entrance, Cassandra saw the people flowing and littering outside. The kingdom had already grasped mourning tightly, it seemed. A few of the poorly dressed and nourished citizens turned, gawking wide eyed at Cassie, Iann, and the others that accompanied them.

"Perhaps in another life," Ciara replied idly. He was the third child too, she knew. She understood the call for duty without the honour of the eldest. "Truly. My family is out west, in the Eades. The glades are beautiful this time of year. I enjoy the city life, apart from times like this, but there is not much space to oneself." She looked back out at the city, her lips in a tight line. "Right now especially."

"I hope you have a speech ready to go with your coin-distribution, Grand Lady," Iann murmured, his shoulders tensing as he gazed around the crowd like a predatory hawk. It was one thing to be greeted and admired by lesser nobles and artisans, but the milling many of the poor assembled in the gated Cathedral courtyard (it opened to both the Lower and Upper Cities) could include anyone among their dirty throng. Cassie wouldn't be swarmed by them of course - an iron gate separated them from the crowd, but someone with a crossbow could easily take aim. Knight Harrison seemed ever-vigilant on the other side of Cassie's horse, so Iann stayed close by Adeline's side. Arrangements had also been made for Cloverry priests and nuns to emerge as well, carrying baskets of bread as well as vegetables from the Cloverry gardens. All paid for, by Summerset coin. Or rather, by Forty isles coin, as Summerset had no coin to give. The priests and nuns waited, and would start distributing food at the Grand Lady's permission.

Arin made a disquieted sound. "Who's to say he's not been bewitched as well?" He gave Elia a pointed look. "Why else would a man of such standing not look upon such a creature without at least a modicum of suspicion? He witnessed the attack... and yet... she remains free. As does the deadwood witch." Arin nodded gravely. "Aye. Our Lord and Lady see the truth, and will do what they must." Arin guided Elia down the dim corridor, features set stoicly yet still befitting a servant. "I fear the rumors may even be less gruesome than the truth, dear one. Now come... there's much to be done..."

"From what I've heard, the glades sound beautiful. I'll have to visit some time, though I can't imagine life far from the sea." Miguel ran a hand through his tight, dark curls. "Lady, if you're looking for some silence and peace, I could take my leave. I exist to torment my eldest brother, not beautiful women."

"Why do you think I was up so late last night?" Cassandra posed to Iann. As if she would approach the masses unprepared. Still, she waited a few moments so that their arrival was properly registered through the crowd and any surprise had hushed down for the time being. Cassie stayed on her horse, just so everyone could see her. "It's tragedy that brings us all here today. And we all mourn the loss of our Raj deeply, but we must not despair even in trying times such as these. We all want peace, and are working towards a solution tirelessly. Find solace with the clergy and within yourself." She made a motion for the food and coin to start being distributed, "We must stand together as a kingdom, and surely our faith and loyalty will be well rewarded."

"No, no. I shouldn't speak so. The company does me more harm, and it is likely good to keep out of my mind." Ciara looked over with a knowing smile. "It is perhaps terribly femininely of me to be so shaken by the events of the last day. Besides, I could be in much worse company." There was something about the Young Lord Miguel that set her at ease. A dangerous trait, no doubt, but there was little harm in indulging at a superficial level. To find some small pocket of comfort before the raging storm.

"Even if you are shaken on the inside, your exterior speaks nothing but calm and collected." Miguel moved his hand to touch her elbow in the quick gentle way he had with his sister-in-law, but quickly thought better of it and clasped his hands in front of himself, between his knees. "Will you be travelling back to the Eades once all this excitement is over?"

"Staying up writing my assignment, naturally," Iann teased her, although he wasn't exactly smiling as he said it. She had a way with written word that Iann certainly didn't. He liked to speak, not to scribe. Cassandra was good at both though - her voice was clear and strident and rang over the Cathedral courtyard in a way that even quieted the crowd of poor. It turned them from a tense, hungry mob, into a gentle, adoring audience. There was silence and murmuring for a while, as those nearest the gate started to get food. With the Cloverry's assistance, it was more organized than Iann expected, although he still watched carefully. But then from the back, someone yelled out: "God's blessings on the Grand Lady of Summerset!" It was a man's voice, hoarse and desperate with gratitude. The call was repeated, and taken up. "God's blessings! God's blessings!" And as the chant picked up, people at the gates not just reached for coin and food, but also for the Grand Lady's blessing, trying to brush their fingers against her horse, or the hem of Cassandra's dress. "Please, my Queen! Please bless us!"

"Time will tell. I wish to see how this will all play out, and my movements will depend on what comes after. My father has no need for me there right now." Ciara answered, each sentence a half truth. But there was no truly returning to the Eades to stay. She had entangled herself into too many webs to truly ever depart the political sphere, and while today was a challenge, that did not mean the future would be. This was an opening door, a whole new playing field. It could serve her well. "Where will your ships take you after?"

Cassie was relieved the speech had gone over as she had hoped. Not that she doubted her words, but any crowd could be unpredictable. As the crowd came closer, brushing fingertips where they could press between the guards Cassandra smiled softly down at them, "You are all too kind, we are all blessed with or without my saying so. Please, collect what you need and know all of us in the castle are keeping you at the forfronts of our minds."

Miguel looked plenty sympathetic, his father let him do what he wanted ever since he had taken himself off the playing field as someone to be married away to form alliances. He had no easy comparison for what Ciara had gone through, except the expectations that chained him in his youth. "Back to the Forty Isles. Our father is ailing, and I need to be there to show my support, if Iann is to take command."

Iann watched closely, his heart accelerating as the crowd surged. He wanted to drag Adeline's pony back, to prevent those grabbing hands from trying to touch the Princess. It would be so easy for things to get out of control. Gratitude could easily turn into madness. Fortunately, Cassie's response, gracious as it was, also sounded like a retreat. Iann clenched his jaw and slowly steered Adeline's pony around. "Come, Grand Lady," he said with a brief smile. He spoke quietly, just for her. "You've made your point quite well, I should think."

Now that was interesting. Not quite enough for her to show it, but to tuck it deep inside the robes of her clothes. If Iann were to take the throne. This brotherly bickering may be brotherly mutiny. Ciara thought of Iann, directing Savin to take the lead. She thought of him trying to steer who looked at the body when, she thought of him leaving now, with Lady Cassandra, and steering that too. Perhaps this was a good thing. “You believe it will be soon?”

Cassie was indeed ready to leave, and didn't fight when Iann attempted to turn the entire party around. It was hard not to notice his tense jaw and shoulders though, sure the crowd could be intimidating, but Cassandra had kept relatively calm. "You think?" She smiled at Iann, almost baiting him to praise her more, but then she leaned down speaking to him softly as well, "Perhaps you should be among the commoners more often. They're wants and desires are not so far from our own. Offer a bit of kindness, and they will return it tenfold."

Miguel leaned down and brought his hands up to his chin. "I do. He's been ailing for most of my life." His brown eyes flashed toward Ciara for a second. "Our mothers have been controlling the day-to-day." All three of the sons loved their mothers, all of them. It didn't matter who had birthed whom. All three of the women were respectable and necessary for the good of the islands, they were just as untouchable as Adeline in the little games Iann and Miguel played. "Recently they sent a message that father has been confined to his bed. That's no way to live. Especially not for the King of the Driftwood throne."

For once, Iann had nothing witty to reply. As the Grand Lady leaned over her little daughter to speak to Iann, the Prince seemed to stare straight ahead, but his eyes darted this way and that. Not only was he keeping a lookout for anything dangerous, but he was also caught up in what Cassandra just said. Only when they reached the Gates of the Bluesprings Keep, did Iann eventually say, "Wise words, Grand Lady. I shall heed them." And he would; but not in the way that Cassandra meant it.

“I am sorry to hear it.” Ciara replied simply, and truthfully. “I hope you are able to return to him soon.” There was something about him that made her want to reach out and comfort him, but she did not. “Is that why you were so quick to Investigate?”

"I hope you do." Cassandra responded quietly, somewhat surprised to still see Miguel and Ciara chatting in the courtyard. She dismounted with Adeline and thanked the groomsmen that took the horses away. "Flowers, mama." Adeline stating pointing towards a small gate that led to a path towards the castle gardens. "Hmmm." She hummed, crouching slightly to lift the toddler in the air before carrying her on her hip, "Let's collect some boquets for the castle sweetheart." Cassandra agreed, "The keep needs some form of cheer besides lust and drink."

Miguel had been being so earnest with Lady Ciara, the fact that he had to lie to keep up appearances caused him a moment of guilt. But he had put too much work into this, too much energy, to let one woman's opinion of him change his plans. "Partially. I want to go home. I've been away - it's the nature of all the Driftwood princes - we travel. I would like to see him again, alive." He pulled away from the heavy sadness that didn't belong to him, and offered Ciara a small smile. "Thank you for your condolences, I appreciate it," and it was true, even if he had been hoping for the death of his father.

"I apologize, I have no head for determining what rose goes well with what carnation," Iann replied, although he did follow Cassandra to the castle garden, along with Knight Harrison. "But I'll be happy to keep you company, Grand Lady. We must talk some business."

“Of course.” Speaking of, Lord Iann and Queen Cassandra had returned to the courtyard, and Ciara watched them a brief moment. “I am afraid, your lordship, that I must retire for a short while. But your company was a pleasure.” She put her hand on his shoulder as she stood, affectionately, and smiled down at him. “I have no doubt we’ll speak again.”

Cassie turned slightly after unlatching the gate, brow raised at her brother, "Further business?" Addressing the masses was the pressing matter in her own mind, and now that it was over she was ready to idlely roam. She dismissed Danny quickly however, unsure if it was something the knight should be privy to, and besides she was safe within the castle walls now. "What weighs on your mind brother?"

"No doubt," Miguel repeated. There was only so much room in the keep, and Ciara was interesting to talk to. "Have a good day, as good as possible. And think about the blue sky if things get overwhelming." He touched her hand lightly as she went. And cursed his brother for how close he already seemed to the Burned Lady.

"I believe Inquisitor Savin is doing an exceptional job. He's from the North, he's a Dawnguard war hero, and he's a proven Inquisitor. I also believe the Quiver of Houses has collected a very interesting group of people to Counsel the Inquisitor, don't you think? Including two noblewomen newly emerged from accursed lands, and a child who a Priestess of the Light insists deserves a chair at the House table - despite the child continually refusing it. The ten-year war in Bluesprings has certainly created a very eclectic group in the wake of the High Raj's death." Most of the more traditional Lords and Ladies, Dukes and Duchesses, Kings and Queens - they were all dead. What was left? In truth, it was those who either powerful enough to keep themselves out of the war, or took advantage of it for their own gain. "While I'm sure it'll make for lovely colourful songs and poems in the years to come, right now I sense it can only make the Inquisition seem slightly unstable, hm? We need make sure every member on the Quiver creates inspiration in the hearts and minds of the people, rather than wonder. Imagination in the hands of the commonfolk creates superstitions and false beliefs."

"You're babbling." She pointed out to Iann, because this wasn't really business, this was reflection. Reflection was good and well, but it still felt like he was dancing around something. She wet her lips thinking when he mentioned the emerging nobility. "The Priestess can insist, but this heir is only going to have a seat if she wants it. Which as you stated, she doesn't." Cassie couldn't exactly blame her. It was a dangerous seat. "Are you suggesting we raise all the others to our recognition so not to strike jealousy?" She tilted her head agian, "I'm not sure what you're searching for brother, I apologize."

Back in her room, Ciara found the encrypted note hidden behind a wooden panel. A report of what had happened in the places of worship. A report detailed fully, that she devoured in moments, and then tore the paper to swallow it. No secrets left to be found. It ended on exchanges words her mouse had not heard, but the rest was plentiful. She digested a few minutes, then wound her way down to the servants quarters. “Matron,” she spoke softly. “Please assign Aziza to cleaning Lord Iann Cardero’s room from now on, it has barely been a day and he should not notice. Please send Gizelle to my room at the earliest convenience.” No one else needed reassigning. Ciara had mice for every room, but apparently some needed more than one.

Iann watched Cassandra carefully again. Adeline had a few sweet little pink daisies clutched tightly in her hand, which she tried to arrange in her mother's dark hair like a crown. It was endearing, in the dappled sunlight. The pair of them looked almost out of place, a scene of absolute serenity against the backdrop of bloody murder and fearful concerns. He made a choice then and bowed deeply and formally. A bow of formality that he hadn't used with Cassandra for years, ever since Juan Carlos left for another of his crusades, and Iann informally and unofficially installed himself as an (occasional) guardian of Summerset and her Queen. But he used that formal bow now, his face once more inscrutable. "You're right, I am babbling. I suppose seeing the poor gathering for alms has made me more light-headed than I realized. I reluctantly leave you and the Princess now. More her, than you," Iann added in his usual twinkling mischievous manner that lasted a brief moment before he left.

#got scene

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guccisvt · 6 years ago

Text

Stealth and Smoke

Genre: || Romance || Action || Humor || Drama ||

Word count: 5395

Warnings: Violence and swearing

Summary: The SVT gangs reign as the most notorious gang spanning across all of Korea wasn’t for nothing. But no one really knew the mastermind behind the gang, except for those within it. As a new gang member, your job was to hold a gun, fire when necessary, and keep your mouth shut. This operation was different, placing you as 1 of 4 main members in a rather risky heist that couldn’t just land you in big trouble...it could land you 6 feet under.

A/N: I remember reading a post about how people hate having to scroll through really lengthy stories on their dash so, i am adding vvvv so others won’t have to scroll through the whole story. Also, feel free to comment if there are any mistakes or if something is off. Enjoy!

A large warehouse loomed over you, making you feel even more uneasy than you had felt when you came here the first time.

You had lived a long life of crime, petty theft and grand theft auto being only a few minor ones found under your name. When you came about the SVT gang, you knew you’d be getting what you sought for. Money.

The most infamous group of outlaws, the SVT gang was comprised of three groups and three leaders. 13 members, 14 now including you. Yes, it took the theft of at least $800 to get you into their group.

Even then, one or two members were reluctant to let you in. Once in, there was no way out unless it was out in a coffin. It made you nervous to think that hanging around them would most certainly lead to your death, but when you’ve got nowhere else to go...This is the best thing you could do.

You swallowed hard as you continued to stare at the warehouses door before being spooked out of your trance. An arm wrapped around your shoulders and you quickly reached for your gun which was packed away to your side under your shirt. Just as quickly as you reached for it, another hand stopped yours.

“Woah, hold your fire there.” The soft voice said with a chuckle following. You sighed as you took in who it was. Jisoo Hong or Joshua as everyone called him. One of the few in the gang who actually liked you.

He always would sport a nice suit and tie, maybe even a hat when it got sunny out. On the outside, Joshua was a well mannered man who would go to Church on Sundays and sang in the church choir.

But no one outside of SVT new of his true nature.

“You’re spacing out again.” He chirped, releasing you from his arm before walking ahead of you into the building. He pushed forward into the warehouse and the loud creak of the door echoed eerily, sounding off his and your own arrival to the 10 other members inside.

The outside looked untouched but, the inside was carefully crafted into a base. Inside, behind two cars, was a long table with 14 chairs surrounding it. Beside it, a board where the leaders would guide everyone through their latest plan.

You took your seat near the far end of the table where those of the younger side of the group also sat. You pulled out your gun and placed it on the table alongside a knife you pulled out from under your pant leg. It was mandatory.

At the head of the table sat the leader, with his two co-leaders on either side. On the left sat Lee Jihoon, the brains of the operations. His code name over radio, woozi, stuck to him by his fellow leaders. On the right sat Kwon Soonyoung, a Spy for the gang, and a rather useful one. More often than not, he goes under the name of Hoshi. In the center sat their leader and their usual brawn, Choi Seungcheol or S.Coups. Everyone was always intimidated by Seungcheol, his serious expression and low voice gave him that advantage. Same for Soonyoung. In reality, they were the two more gentle leaders.

Jihoon was the complete opposite. A short man with an equal sized temper, he was known to kill and torture hostages without remorse and never learned to hold his tongue. Honestly quite hot, but scary nonetheless.

Today, everyone had been called in for a rather big heist. A nearby military weapons base had just recently acquired a new arsenal of weapons and Seungcheol had an ally who would pay them very well for a few boxes of weapons and ammunition.

“We’ll be up against at least 50 different guards throughout the area of the base, all armed. Not only that, but according to Jihoon’s findings, there will be a lot of area we’ll have to cover in little time.” Seungcheol explained, sparing his glance to every member.

Not a single person sturred.

“You’re telling us this as if we’re amateurs.” The youngest in the groups spoke, a young man who went by Dino.

“Don’t overestimate yourself, Dino. The military is no joke, and getting these guns will take a lot of manpower. Hell, i don’t even think we should risk taking this Job.” Soonyoung replied, his words more targeted to their leader than the youngster.

“We need to take this job. We’re low on cash and unless you guys DON’T want to get paid, i suggest you shut up and listen rather than complain about what can’t be fixed.” Jihoon replied, shooting a glare at the other male.

The way Soonyoung sat back into his chair and how he huffed was enough of a sign to Seungcheol to put on his mask of peacemaker. “Alright, Alright, listen. I know that this sort of operation is out of our league, but look at the brightside, when it’s all done, we’ll celebrate.” Seungcheol announced, a warm smile adorning his face. Soonyoung sighed and nodded, agreeing with the idea of a party. With that, Seungcheol nodded and continued his explanation. “We have a lay out of the base and of our teams. We’ll be going two at a pair,” Seungcheol explained, walking over to the board and turning it over, revealing a birds eye view of the base taped to it. On the side were colored pieces of paper with two names on each pair.

“These are our teams.” Seungcheol continued, pulling off the first piece, a green paper with the names Seungkwan and Minghao. “Seungkwan, Minghao, you two will be kicking us off for this operation.” Seungcheol called, earning a small ‘yes!’ from the two as they high-fived each other. “Hah. You two will be in charge of getting us inside and turning off the electric fence from the northwest end of the facility.” Seungcheol explained, placing their names to the entrance of the building. “Both of you are in looking for Sargent Perri, understood?” Seungkwan and Minghao nodded, a smirk on their faces.

“Good. Now, Vernon and Joshua, our handy men, we’ll need you working double time to cut open that fence without us getting spotted. Take whatever you need to get it done.”

Joshua nodded before being followed by his partners hand, “Yes, Vernon?” Seungcheol replied. “Can we use the dynamite?” He asked, a sort of gleam of excitement in his eyes. Seungcheol smiled pitifully and shook his head, “Not this time. We need to be discreet.” Vernon’s smile fell and he nodded. With that, Seungcheol pulled off a blue slip and placed it onto the far end of the map where the Northwest fence was.

“Okay, next, (Y/N), Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Dino.” As soon as you heard your name, you shot your head in your leaders direction.

“You four will be near the closest guards in the area. Soonyoung, Jihoon, take them out quietly, and disguise yourselves as the officers. Keep yourselves hidden. You two will be our lookouts.” Seungcheol pulled off two slips of paper, an orange one for Soonyoung and Dino, and a yellow one for Jihoon and yourself. You glanced over at your partner who just so happen to be looking at you, spooking you and causing you to turn away.

Soonyoung snickered and called from across the table to you, “Don’t worry baby, i’ll protect you.” You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at the male.

“Alright, okay. (Y/N) and Dino, you two will go and retrieve a box of M16 assault rifles with ammunition, following that we’ll send you both back in with Mingyu and Jun to grab as many shotguns and handguns as you guys can without being spotted. Jihoon, Soonyoung, you both have your partners backs because we’ll want you guys back out before anyone notices. Dokyeom and I will go in if you guys feel like things will get hairy. We are counting on you guys to get this done and done quietly.” Seungcheol explained, his expression serious earning all eyes on him as he spoke. “We’ve got this Coups.” Soonyoung replied, giving him a thumbs up.

“Of course, we won’t let you down.” You followed up, smiling at the leader.

Seungcheol smiled at your confidence before pulling off one last sheet off the board, a white sheet of paper. He placed it by the area of the gate entrance, “Jeonghan, you’ll be in charge of car one, Wonwoo, you’ll be driving car two. Assault rifles and ammunition in Jeonghan's and Shotguns and handguns in Wonwoo’s car.” Seungcheol finished, earning a final nod of understanding from the two males. Seungcheol nodded, his smile growing into a more confident one, “Alright. No time to waste. Everyone, here by 11:30 pm tonight, we’ll review one more time and then we’ll head out.”

Seungcheol finished, earning another ‘yes sir’ from the gang.

As soon as the meeting ended, those going on the mission grouped up with their partners, similar to pairs of high school friends. Even you wanted to group up with Jihoon to discuss what you two planned on but, your stride in his direction was cut short as Soonyoung crossed your path.

“Ayyyy, we’re on a mission together~” He cooed, smiling mischievously at you. As much as you resisted, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling.

“Careful Mr.Kwon, You’ll get distracted. We all know where that can land you.” You replied, smilingly playfully as you grabbed his tie and straightened it.

Soonyoung chuckled lowly as he watched you, his grin growing only slightly, “Well, when you try to be distracting, that’s when it’s a problem.” He replied, moving a hand to touch you, but you moved your hands away from his tie before he could.

“Then how about, you stick to your partner, and i’ll stick to mine. Yes?” You replied, the irritated smile you gave him was enough of a warning to him to back off. He scoffed in shock and smile lost it’s mischievousness as he nodded, stepping aside for you to walk over to your partner. By the time he did, Jihoon had already gotten up and was making his way to the boards map.

You were about to walk over when Soonyoung stopped you once again, only tapping your arm. His smile was completely gone and was replaced with a serious expression, which made you feel a little nervous.

“Let’s stay safe, okay? I know that Jihoon is your partner but…” He trailed off a little as he moved his eyes in the said males direction. “..He isn’t afraid of putting your life or the rest of ours in danger.” He finished, a bit of irritation rising in his voice. Soonyoung sighed and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and turned on his heel, leaving you to process what he had said.

When you looked back to check if Jihoon was in front of the board, he had already left to his car.

Night couldn’t fall any slower, only raising your anxiety the slower the drive took to the base. You kept glancing at yourself in the mirror as you pulled in. What Soonyoung had said earlier had been echoing non-stop. Jihoon wouldn’t really put you in the line of fire for the sake of a mission...would he? You parked your car and sighed, turning it off. You placed your head on the steering wheel, finding yourself having a raging headache all of a sudden. You had to calm yourself down, you couldn’t risk the operation.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself the best you could, taking your keys and putting them into your pocket before stepping out of your car. You sighed heavily before making your way to the warehouse, it’s size now less of a concern than ever.

When you walked in, all eyes landed on you. You were the last one in. You cleared your throat as you walked to your seat, placing your weapons on the table before looking at Seungcheol, signaling him to go ahead with the review.

The review went by too quickly for your liking.

You took your belonging and went for the work cars, hopping into the passenger's seat as you waited for the driver. Tonights driver was Jihoon.

You slid into your seat as you mentally broke down what could possibly happen if the plan failed, feeling yourself get even more sick as you did. Your thoughts were broken as the door to the drivers side opened, revealing Jihoon in an all black outfit. He hopped in and shut the door quietly before placing the keys in and starting the car. You stared at him momentarily, aching to ask him what you wanted to earlier, but you decided not to.

Though, it seemed like Jihoon could read your thoughts. He placed both hands on the steering wheel and starred ahead as he spoke. “Hoshi may not believe in me, but i hope that you have at least a small amount of trust in me to know that i won’t let you...or him...or Dino...get hurt.”

You were shocked that he even spoke to you at all, turning your eyes away from him and looking straight ahead. You nodded at his statement, signalling him that you understood. After hearing that, your sickness seemed to mysteriously disappeared and was instead replaced with excitement. You were ready to get this mission over with.

Jihoon pulled the clutch and pulled you both out, following behind two more cars while behind you both, two slightly smaller cars followed.

Timing, location, and disguises were all essential to make this plan go off without a hitch. Parking yourselves in a secluded area a few hundred feet away to make sure they were hidden. Wonwoo and Jeonghan had a riskier time as they made their way to about 30 feet from the fence.

Seungkwan and Minghao wasted no time as they went in and started the operation.

Now, to wait for them to call.

They really didn’t waste time because Jihoon’s phone went off a little over 20 minutes after they had gone in.

When he picked up, a chuckle was heard from the other side, “Hello hyung! Okay, the fence is down. Give or take, you guys have 30 minutes.” Seungkwan’s voice was heard before a beep sounded off, signaling the end of the call.

Jihoon tucked his phone away before pulling out his gun from his side and placing it into the glove compartment. You stared at him with confusion before he looked at you, a hint of confusion on his face as well.

“What? Do you want the guards to catch us? Guns can’t be used for this operation. Knives are the only weapons we can use unless, you’re like Soonyoung and you use your hands.” He explained, leaving the compartment open for you. You nodded and pulled out your gun as well, placing it into the compartment. You both stepped out together, fixing your outfits and putting on your masks, also black, so that only your eyes were visible. Jihoon looked over at you and nodded, signaling he was ready. You followed with a nod as well before going around and following him through the shrubs and trees to the northwest end of the fence.

The operation begins with a 30 minute time limit.

As you both approach, the very quiet sounds of clipping is heard and your two colleagues, Joshua and Hansol, are clipping away at the gate with large pliers. By the time you are both next to them, the gate falls right off, being caught my Hansol and quietly being put aside.

Joshua looks at you both momentarily, flashing you a smile of reassurance before he turned his attention to the sound of Soonyoung and Dino. Dino gave you both a nod as a hello while Soonyoung looked at you, giving you a playful wink which only earned a roll of your eyes. Joshua stepped aside from the gate, allowing the four of you to enter, Soonyoung and Jihoon in front while You and Dino made your way in quietly.

Just as expected, a few guards were in front of the tent which housed the M16’s. Soonyoung made a signal for Jihoon to go to the left side and approach from behind while Soonyoung approached from the right. Jihoon was about to make his way over but stopped, looking back at you. Although his mask covered his mouth and nose, you could see from the way his brows furrowed and the nod he gave you that he was telling you, “I’ve got your back.” You nodded back before looking at Dino and gesturing your head to the open backside of the tent. Dino nodded as well and followed you as you made your way inside. You drew your knife out and quietly went in, staying low and hidden before peaking over the crates of weapons to scope out the inside.

No Guards.

You stood up straight, being followed by Dino who sighed. The younger pulled his mask down and frowned, “Man, i wanted some action.” He whispered to you. You shook your head as you quietly listened around yourself, taking in whatever sound you could.

You nearly had a heart attack as the front of the tent flew open, revealing Jihoon and Soonyoung. Soonyoung looked at Dino and shook his head, “Put your mask on.” He growled from behind his mask while the younger did as told.

The four of you exchanged a few more glances with each other before Jihoon pulled down his mask and turned to Soonyoung. “We’ll hide the bodies in one of the crates.” He whispered.

You were actually a bit surprised that Jihoon and Soonyoung were able to take the two men out so quickly and quietly, but then again….That was their job.

You put your knife away and made your way to the first crate, pulling on it’s lid and popping it open. What was inside almost made you gasp audibly.

The M16’s AND the Shotguns mixed inside with only stuffing popcorn the only thing separating them. You looked up from the box and turned around, looking at the two men who were about to go back out. The way you looked at them actually made them worry for a moment. They walked over and looked inside and even behind the masks, small smiles could be seen from behind them.

“One less step.” Jihoon commented, earning a nod from Soonyoung.

You softly chuckled before pulling out the first M16, surprised by its heft. You passed it to Dino who took it with a cocky grin behind his mask. He reached back inside the box and pulled out two more guns before making his way out the back of the tent quietly.

You almost forgot, you four were on a time limit.

You grabbed 3 guns and also made your way out, walking to the entrance of the gate and passing the guns out to Joshua and Hansol who set them aside to organize.

You and Dino repeated this step over 5 times, successfully pulling out 30 guns. You looked at Joshua as you pulled out another batch, glancing between the guns and him. He shrugged, letting out a soft chuckle.

“I think 30 is enough. Bring some ammunition.” he whispered to you quietly. You nodded and went back in, expecting to just be able to walk in again. Just as you were about to, an unknown voice yelled to you, “hey!” they called.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you turned your head, seeing 3 guards running in your direction.

‘Fuck.’ You thought as you ran inside, hopping over the crates and running out to Jihoon and Soonyoung who were standing guard. They looked at you confused and shocked, pointing for you to get back inside. You pulled your mask down, “guards are coming.” You quietly and nervously announced.

Jihoon and Soonyoung’s eyes instantly grew to saucers as you spoke. Jihoon cursed to himself before turning his attention to Soonyoung.

“Where is Din-” Suddenly the sound of a gun goes off.

The three of you turn your attention to the tent and quickly run inside. You hop over the crates once again and peak your head outside and see what the three of you never thought you’d have to see.

On the ground, Dino is clutching his leg which had been shot. Approaching him, the three guards. You pulled your head back inside the tent and looked at Soonyoung who looked like he had just gone into shock. You moved to touch him, but he already turned on his heel and reached into a crate, pulling out an M16.

“S-Soon..” You whisper almost breathlessly as he moved to the ammunition box and pulled out a full box. He quietly and quickly loaded the gun before cocking it back. “It’s showtime.” He said lowly before pushing you aside to get out.

You were about to go after him but were stopped by Jihoon. He pulled you back by the hand and quietly dragged you out the other end of the tent. You felt your heart race and you suddenly felt sick again.

“Ji-” You were silenced as Jihoon stopped moving and covered your mouth. “Soonyoung will be fine. You and I need to get out of here.” He ordered quietly, his eyes intensely boring holes into your own. You gulped hard as he removed his hand slowly. You shakily nodded your head before a round of gunshots were heard in the direction Soonyoung was in.

Jihoon grabbed your hand again and pulled you both into another tent. You squeezed his hand nervously which called his attention. He looked down at your hands and then back at you. The anxiety of losing your comrades was etched across your face and Jihoon could see it.

He squeezes your hand in return and placed his free hand on your cheek, calling your attention. “Soonyoung and Dino will make it out, okay? Soonyoung may be reckless and Dino may be a kid compared to us, but they know what they’re doing. Have faith in them and in me. All of us will make it out, alright?” He cooed quietly, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

You held your breath for a moment after he spoke, moving your eyes to look at anything but his, hoping that your anxiety would subside but, the calmness of his voice and the tranquility his dark eyes brought was actually what ended up bringing you back to your senses. You nodded and reached your hand to your side, pulling out your knife. Jihoon gave you a small smile before letting your face go. Honestly, your cheek suddenly felt very cold after he removed his hand.

Jihoon released you hand and moved the the crates inside the tent you both had slipped into. He pulled one open and inside were hand grenades while another box beside it was labeled ‘Ammunition’.

“Bingo.” He said as he pulled the next box open and began to pull out boxes. Just as you moved to grab two boxes, another round of bullets was heard, this time it was closer to you both. Jihoon’s eyes widened at the sudden movement of the shots, “Go. Move!” he exclaimed a little too loudly, startling you and causing you to run out. Jihoon held the boxes to his chest and ran at full speed around two tents and to the other side before finding the gate again.

You suddenly picked up your speed and ran straight into Joshua, feeling a wave of relief roll through you. The relief only lasted briefly before Joshua and Hansol made haste for the guns, taking them and stuffing them into the duffles bags they carried their tools in. You gave them the ammunition and Jihoon followed. As soon as you handed them over, you looked at Jihoon with a strange look. Jihoon could see something odd in your eyes, furrowing his eyes in concern. “(Y/N)...” He said weerily, but before he could say anything, you took off again. This time...back inside the base.

You were not leaving them to defend themselves.

Another round of shots were heard before as you ran towards them, expecting to see Soonyoung and Dino dead on the ground. What actually nearly scared the shit out you was when you ran straight into a gun pointed at you. Had Soonyoung had as itchy of hands as Hansol or Mingyu, you probably would have been shot right there.

Soonyoung sighed audibly and smiled, behind him, Dino stood (sort of) with a Shotgun in his hands.

“Dear g/d…” You whispered. Soonyoung lowered his gun and you quickly went in and hugged him tightly, which he returned. He quickly released you though, noticing something off. He held you by your shoulders before speaking. “Where is Jihoon?”

You went stiff as you thought, you left him back with Joshua. “H-He’s back with Josh and Hansol.”

“No i’m not.” A voice replied. You turned around and sure enough, Jihoon jogged right up to you three, a gun in his own hand. You felt yourself smile as Jihoon approached you, a small smile forming on his lips as well.

“What the hell man...Why did you leave them to come looking for us? What if they had gotten caught or worse?” Soonyoung practically yelled. Jihoon’s gentle expression towards you changed in an instant as he looked back at Soonyoung.

“If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have made it to you. They probably didn’t even notice that they had been spotted by a guard on their way here.” Jihoon replied, taking your hand and pulling you forward with him.

Dino snickered at his response, earning a glare from Soonyoung. Dino only shrugged and pushed ahead, moving rather well for a person who had been… ya know...shot. Soonyoung growled a little, moving behind the group.

You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous again after hearing what Jihoon said. You were being followed and you didn’t notice? How reckless. It wasn’t like you. Then again, it wasn’t like you to run back for your comrades either.

You shook your head, breaking out of your thoughts before looking down at your hand in Jihoon’s. His hand was actually quite small compared to yours, which made you smile.

“You have tiny hands.” You commented with a chuckle. Jihoon looked over his shoulder at you with a glare, but not quite like the ones he usually gave. This one was more of a sarcastic kind which was followed up with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

“Gee, thanks.” He replied quietly.

Your smile only grew after that and you felt...something...inside you stir.

You were so distracted by him that you didn’t even notice the rather intense death glare Soonyoung had aimed at Jihoon.

Two more encounters with guards and the four of you were scott free.

After the second guard, Dino’s leg gave out, so Soonyoung had to carry him out. By the time you four were out, it had been WAY over 30 minutes.

You could feel yourself come down from some sort of high as you sat in the car, leaning your head back and taking it what had just happened.

The drive back wasn’t as silent as it had been, Jihoon asking every now and then if you were okay, to which you replied with a yes or with a soft hum. But as you thought about the mission more and more, the more you found yourself drifting your eyes to Jihoon. He really had protected you, he really had been there for you, he even calmed you down when you were on the verge of a panic attack.

You smiled tiredly as you thought about how he had smiled at you earlier when he had followed you back in. “Hey, Jihoon?” You called quietly, earning a small hum as a response.

“Thanks for being there for me…” You said tiredly, turning your head to look at him. Jihoon spared you a glance before nodding, a small smile on his lips.

“Of course. I told you i would, didn’t i?” He replied. You chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, you did. But...seriously….You didn’t have to calm me down. You didn’t have to hold my hand...or run after me…” You quietly trailed off, finding yourself falling asleep.

Jihoon sighed, noticing your tired state, “I did what i felt was right.” He replied, finally pulling up to where the base was. When the doors opened, he pulled right in and parked. When he turned off the car, he looked over at you and noticed you had fallen asleep.

He couldn’t hide the soft smile that adorned his face as he looked at you. He felt like just leaving you there to rest but...maybe a bed would be nicer than his car seat. So, he shook your shoulder gently, waking you up from your short nap.

“We’re here.” He cooed, watching you slowly open your eyes and nod.

And right there….is where he felt it. That strange feeling you had felt earlier, he felt it. In his chest. Like being shot but without the pain and instead, it was warm.

He cleared his throat before pulling the keys out and stepping out of the car. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to the table where the members had gather along with the stolen goods.

You followed shortly after, taking your seat and laying your head down almost instantly, with a rather loud thud. The crew erupted in laughs as they relaxed into their seats. Seungcheol went up to the board and smiled to everyone, “Great work guys. We got what we needed with no casualties.”

“Uh--” Dino’s voice dragged out, pointing to his leg. Seungcheol rolled his eyes and looked over to Jeonghan who nodded, “I’ll get it out.” He said before anyone could ask him. With that, Dino got up and followed Jeonghan to another corner of the base where he had his area set up for injuries such as these.

Seungcheol looked back at everyone and sighed, “Well, all in a days work. Tonight, everyone go home and get your rest. We will be escorting the weapons to our client tomorrow and i want Soonyoung, Jihoon, (Y/N), Jun, Minghao, Joshua, and Seungkwan to accompany me.” He explained, earning a small groan from you.

Once again, the others began to laugh.

“Hey, How about i take you out for coffee before?” Jihoon’s voice asked suddenly, all eye on you now. You raised your head and looked at him in almost disbelief, finding it odd that he suddenly was asking you out ‘for coffee’. But, how could you say no when he was looking right through you with his dark eyes.

“Uh...O-Okay.” You replied, smiling a little. Jihoon nodded, a smile on his face now as well.

“Oh for fucks sake…” Soonyoung commented, loudly enough for everyone to hear. You furrowed your brows and looked at Soonyoung who could only shake his head at you.

All eyes turned back to Seungcheol who smiled back before gesturing away to everyone. “Alright, well...get going guys. I want you 7 to be here by noon.” He announced before releasing everyone.

As you made your way out, you heard Jihoon’s voice call you again, turning you around. He handed you a slip of paper, a serious expression on his face as he did so. “How about 9am?” He asked you casually, to which you nodded. “Yeah, 9 sounds good.” You replied before turning away and heading to your car.

As soon as you were inside, you open the slip of paper. On it was his number as well as a small note:

“Call me” was all that was written, but that was enough for you to actually go into a small fit of giggles.

The scary, stoic, almost sadistic leader had really...asked you out on a date.

Wow, if missions always went this well, you probably would have gotten laid by now.

“Well….there is always tomorrow…”

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