#not sure how far off its built though like they just bought the building space. new coffee shop as well nearby which

[oysterie]

new planet fitness opening close to me I should start going to the gym 👍 speaking it into existence

[unnamed-blob]

Obsidian Snare

⇢ Pairing: Dream x reader

⇢ Genre: mild fluff, angst

⇢ Length: Oneshot

⇢ Synopsis: After Dream is locked in the prison, (Y/N) is convinced that’s the last she’ll ever hear of him. A certain visitor at her distant home turns that desperate hope, and her peaceful life, on its head.

AN: I had to get this out before the prison breakout occured

Sam’s hand felt like a chain upon her wrist, the tight grip hardly a comfort to cold, unforgiving metal. Her gaze flitted between the ground and the appendage constantly, casting paranoid glances over her shoulder at times, attempting to catch sight of the comforting wooden walls of her cabin, even when she was all too aware it was hidden by the trees and distance. 

A glint of metal caught in the sunlight and (Y/N) darted her gaze forwards, heart nearly catching in her throat. Her tense shoulders loosened ever so slightly when she noticed it came from the Warden’s trident, though a chill still settled into her spine, more than aware of the resources and strength the male before her held. 

Chains should really quite be the least of her worries at this rate. 

She focused her gaze onto the ground below again, tracing jutting roots and pebbles as they stepped over them. Her gaze slid upwards again, eyeing the edges of the netherite armor clasped on the figure, the helmet thankfully absent for an easier view of his face, likely to appear less daunting when he had suddenly shown up on her doorstep without a prior word. 

In some mild manner, it had helped, though with a longer look at him, (Y/N) realized it was a mere courtesy, an extension of good will. The absence of the piece held no weight of repercussions, the figure much too tall and daunting for someone to even attempt to aim for his unprotected face. 

Not that it’d work anyway, she mused to herself, avoiding the sight of the sharpened and enchanted blade strapped to his side, staving off thoughts and speculations on the items he held in his inventory.

A shiver travelled down her spine at a particular thought and Sam’s hand tightened.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. 

She regretted opening the door for him. 

- - -

(Y/N) flitted about the kitchen, wincing as the bowls clattered against each other as she dropped them on the counter. She took a moment to organize them unnecessarily, if only to keep her hands busy, before she leaned back and raised her finger to her lips in thought. Her gaze darted about the kitchen, attention catching on the latest chest she’d added to her kitchen, spinning on her heel to stalk across the floor and throw the lid open. 

The contents were the same as before, the ingredients inside not having miraculously disappeared into thin air from the last time she’d checked. Some of the tension bled from the female’s figure at the sight, leaning her weight against the lid as she sighed. Of course, it also meant she couldn’t busy herself with hastily gathering them all last minute again, too occupied physically to allow her thoughts to run rampant. 

(Y/N) dropped the lid unceremoniously, groaning as she stood, finding nothing to nitpick over in the kitchen as she crossed her arms. She untied her hair from the updo she had thrown it into, running her fingers over her scalp as she straightened the strands. 

It was only Niki after all, the kind, pink haired female (Y/N) had never managed to befriend, both occupied with the constant warfare and heavy tension over the lands. Granted, things weren’t pitch perfect in any manner at the moment, but avoiding some mind controlling egg was easier than constantly utilizing supplies during a war. 

(Y/N) winced at the thought of the tense, guarded glances always thrown at her as soon as she’d take a step into the populated SMP city. It’d been part of the reason why she’d taken occupation in the middle of a populated forest, trees stretching for miles as far as one could see. It was daunting at times, chilling even when she’d be awake in the middle of the night and hear the cries and groans of hostile mobs near her walls, aware that any form of help was too far to make an impact in an emergency, and that her body likely wouldn’t be discovered for several months until someone remembered about her or stumbled upon her abode. 

(Y/N) huffed at the dark thoughts swirling in her head. Really now, even when the bastard was dumped into some high security prison, he still managed to hold a tight grip over her life. 

It had been a desperate stab at friendship, approaching Niki with a friendly invitation for baking lessons at her house, wringing her hands nervously despite how much she’d tried to quell her nerves. If the female had noticed, she’d only shaken off her surprised expression, casting a friendly smile instead and asking for the coordinates. 

Truth was, (Y/N) had never had an interest in baking before, opting to delight in the bought goods from Niki’s bakery whenever she could rather than attempt to do it herself. Though if she were going to make an attempt at finally bonding with at least some of the members of the SMP, further than just George and Sapnap, (she ignored the stab in her chest at how distant the three of them had become in the latest months) then she’d make sure to do so properly. Even if Niki weren’t fond of her, or the entire event managed to become an absolute disaster, at the very least Niki would have participated in an activity she was obviously fond of. 

A knock sounded against her door, snapping (Y/N) out of her thoughts as she froze. She was already here? 

She cast another paranoid glance over her kitchen, pausing in her haste to dart to the door as she lingered in the doorway. 

She had everything prepared, right?

Niki wouldn’t despise her just for missing one ingredient, right? 

Of course not, what was she thinking?

(Y/N) inhaled before releasing the stuttering breath, smoothing down her clothes and messing with strands of her hair in an attempt to ensure it looked presentable without a mirror to confirm. She plastered a nervous grin on her face, reaching forwards to clasp her hand around the doorknob and swing the door open. 

“Thanks for coming N-”

The words died in her throat as she met face to face with a glimmering, enchanted netherite chestplate. (Y/N)’s mouth dried as it remained frozen half open, finally willing the courage to raise her gaze to meet eyes with a certain creeper hybrid. 

“(Y/N)” came Sam’s soft greeting, a tense smile lifting at the corners of his lips. He seemed hunched over, his hands empty of any typical hold on a weapon. Though the details hardly had an impact on his threatening image, much less when the mere mention of his occupation would catch her breath in her throat. 

“Sam.” She countered, hands clenching on the smooth doorknob within her palm, grateful for the lack of engraving on it as she was certain it would’ve left an imprint on her palm with her vice grip. 

A voice within her head whispered to call him upon his Warden title instead, though she dismissed it, deciding against angering the male. She certainly wouldn’t be able to take Sam on alone, much less when she was in the middle of the woods with no hope for backup arriving in time. (She ignored the sting that arose from questioning if she had anyone to call upon for backup.)

She shifted further into the safety of her home, discreetly swinging the door ajar, lessening the open space into her home. Sam’s eyes briefly flitted to the wooden object before his gaze met (Y/N)’s, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“How are you, (Y/N)?”

“I’m… well,” she swallowed, ignoring the “I was better before you came” lingering on the tip of her tongue. 

Sam reached a hand upwards to rub at the back of his neck, his eyes scanning the area around the two of them before he dropped his appendage, releasing a barely-there sigh. He straightened, meeting gazes with the female before him again.

(Really, she wished he’d stop doing that. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was meant as an intimidation tactic.) 

“(Y/N), I have a responsibility as the Warden of the server, which I’m certain you’re more than aware of.” Sam paused, (Y/N) stared at him in silence for a moment before realizing his intentions and gave a hurried nod. He continued, “As such, I take every precaution to ensure the protection of the building and that the prisoner remains… inside.” 

(Y/N) didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Dream asked for y-”

“No!” Sam’s hand caught the door as (Y/N) desperately attempted to swing it shut, lock the male and every word he had said out of her house and head. With a single sentence he had shattered the haven she had finally built for herself, by herself, the pieces too small to rebuild it as before. 

“(Y/N) as the Warden-”

“I don’t care!” She hissed, ignoring the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, her distraught more than evident in her voice. 

Sam had the decency to slump a tad bit, before he easily shoved the wooden barricade open and grabbed her elbow as (Y/N) flailed, kicking her legs against his shins and trying to plant her feet to the floor. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N).”

- - -

The prison finally loomed over the last remaining barricade of trees, solid and unrelenting, brash against the soft blue sky. (Y/N) stared at it as Sam guided her past roots and bushes, keeping her from walking into a tree. A terrible, cold feeling pooled in her gut and she stopped as the two of them reached the last of the forest, feet stilling with the last tree before the open plain before the prison. The Warden turned to her silently, scanning her over, when no apparent issue came to light, he locked gazes with her, his eyes asking the question without a need to open his mouth. 

Why did you stop?

(Y/N) tried to inhale a deep breathe, but her throat was too tight and it felt as if she wasn’t getting enough. She chocked down a desperate gasp for air as the prison loomed over her, fighting the urge to kneel over and dig her nails in the dirt, hacking for air. At the very least, she’d have the gritty dust on her fingers as a totem of the outside world in such a spotless, manmade build, composed only of unbreaking blocks and choking lava. 

She turned her head over her shoulder towards the breeze as it grounded her, blowing strands of her loose hair out of her face and lifting her hair off her shoulders. The trees rustled, branches swaying towards her as they beckoned her, calling her to her humble abode in the woods, one with the nature surrounding it, with moss and vines already creeping up the sides of the walls. 

She didn’t need to imagine it as it seemed to flicker in the distance, a haven away from an unrelenting prison and the madman trapped inside. She could already hear Niki’s bubbling laughter echo towards her, her own mixing with it as the smell of bread and baked goods wafted through the air. The fox she’d been feeding leftovers to poking curiously nearby, ears flickering towards the open kitchen window. 

The Warden tightened his grip and the house vanished. The trees grew silent and (Y/N) fought his grip once more as he dragged her from the protection of the forest, the breeze giving her no parting touch. (Y/N) tried to bend down, to flop lifelessly on the ground and make him drag her, leave as many touches of the dirt and blades of grass on her as she could but he yanked her upwards easily, leaving her stumbling like a dazed lamb to catch her balance. 

Before she could plead, or scream, or cry, or mourn, they were standing before the entryway, the shadow of Pandora’s Vault chilling her to her bones and chasing any semblance of warmth the sun had left within her. The Warden dragged her through without a hint of struggling, her small body and desperate escape attempts no challenge to the uncountable, heavy-duty blocks he had built the prison with with his own hands. 

The purple sheen of the Nether portal washed over her, the haze of it settling in her vision and body, leaving her dazed eyed and slow, depending on the Warden’s tugging to guide her. She hadn’t used one in months, it wasn’t necessary when she was insistent on leaving no shortcut for others to find her nor having any need for high quality netherite weapons when there were no human threats. She expected for the sight of a too-large reception area to snap her out of her haziness, but the drowsiness stayed within her head, leaving her swaying without constant support and tugging her brain down into ignorant bliss of the surrounding action. 

She didn’t bother to fight it, not as she numbly shook her head when the Warden’s voice drifted over her head, asking if she had any items on her (she was preparing for baking lessons, why would she?), not as she was pulled down identical corridors and softly pushed onto a bed. She curled into a ball on it, shutting her eyes. 

This was just a bad dream, wasn’t it?

What an awful nightmare.

But the hands were back, pulling her upwards and holding her close to the Warden as she passed over a hallway of lava, pulling her down more and more corridors (how many pathways did this place have?), prodding her towards a passageway of water as she blankly stared at it, unable to will her body to the basic motions of swimming (the Warden had to tug her through a hidden doorway, muttering something along the lines of never mentioning it, why?). 

She felt the fog lift as books were constantly pushed into her arms in a steady stream, the words settling into the back of her mind as she signed. She snapped back to attention finally as the Warden admitted that the sole prisoner was behind the fall of lava before her. She whirled her head in his direction, feeling her breath hitch as he stared forwards dutifully. Sam took a deep breath, stepping away from the lever to come closer to her, his gas mask hanging around his neck as his eyes flashed regretfully. 

“For whatever it's worth,” he looked into her eyes as he hovered his hand near her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

(Y/N) looked downwards, digging her nails into her arms as she crossed them over her chest, blinking back tears. She didn’t answer, but she allowed Sam to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder and squeeze it. 

“Just for a few hours,” Sam muttered as he pulled away, pulling the lever suddenly as her eyes snapped upwards to watch the lava fall. 

The singular cell floating among the pool of lava came into view, the prisoner not in immediate sight, though it wasn’t hard to notice the telltale flash of bright orange against the far wall as (Y/N) craned her neck upwards. 

“Just enough to calm him down,” Sam finalized, motioning to the moving pathway that sputtered to life under her feet, confidently crossing the chasm of lava bubbling underneath. 

(Y/N) hated it for heartlessly depositing her on obsidian bricks, heading backwards without a single glance or hesitation to take her along. For how Sam stood at the only way in and out and didn’t extend his hand, didn’t give her the option to forget whatever had occurred and let her head back to her carefully constructed life, leave her in peace to mend the tangled and broken strings of her relationships to the other members, torn before she had a chance to form them. 

Sam didn’t leave but the sight of him was blocked out by the lava soon enough, the heat pushing against her face and plastering loose strands of hair to her warming face. 

(Y/N) dug her nails further into her flesh and slowly turned around to face the inside of the cell as the Netherite barrier lowered, leaving her no option but to cautiously step forwards, as if a sleeping predator were trapped in the same space as her. (There was the lava behind her, but she had no doubt the Warden would find her moments after the respawn process, dragging her back kicking and screaming however many times it took.)

Dream lay against the far end of the cell, face turned towards the obsidian wall as he hummed leisurely, tracing unseen patterns in the harsh surface. He didn’t bother to acknowledge her presence as she stood in her place, freezing impossibly still as he flopped onto his back, dramatically yawning with a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh come on Sam,” he chuckled, crossing his arms behind his back, settling into a comfortable position as if he were splayed on a bed for a nap. “I’ve said my terms, and what follows. I’m sure you already know what you have to do, and I’ll comply! Just like that!” He removed a hand to wave it in the air as he spoke, (Y/N)’s eyes following it as if it were a poised weapon. 

“Wouldn’t want your only prisoner to die now, would you?” Dream shrugged casually, placing his arm back into its previous position as (Y/N)’s gaze was drawn to the gathering pile of raw potatoes at the filled water hole. She wasn’t certain how many he received in a day, couldn’t calculate off of that, but she could only assume it had taken days for such a worth to accumulate. 

His chuckle left shivers down her spine, needles stabbing into her back as he continued. “Built an entire, high security prison but couldn’t keep the only prisoner alive. A failed prison if it can’t serve its basic purpose, right?” 

The silence stretched between them uncomfortably as Dream was content to pretend to sleep and (Y/N) didn’t dare move to draw attention to herself. She finally sputtered in a breath, her murmur practically echoing in the confined space as she spoke. 

“I’m not Sam.”

The effect was instantaneous, Dream was sitting upwards, his mask staring at her before she could so much as blink, the moment too long as he made no other motions in the ticking seconds. When she shuffled backwards uncomfortably, it seemed to break him out of his focus. The male was crossing the cell as she opened her mouth, drawing breath into her lungs, ready to scream and yell at him to not come closer to her- 

Dream’s arms wrapped around her, shoving any words she had hoped to say back into her, leaving her struggling to draw in air. 

“You’re here,” he murmured the female detesting how his tall build allowed him to wrap his arms around her back, hands gripping onto her upper arms as he tugged her off her balance. (Y/N) stared upwards at the smiling, blank mask, attempting to keep her balance on awkwardly placed feet, if only not to have to touch him any more than already. 

Dream sighed, the action expelling all of the tension from his body as a hand separated away from her to tug the mask upwards, exposing his entire face rather than just his mouth and chin. He grinned at her, his acidic green eyes seemingly glowing from the lava behind her. (Y/N) stiffened as he gazed down at her, eyes softening into a lovesick look as he studied all of her features, as if convincing himself she were truly here. 

He grinned, dangerously, before yanking her closer, sweeping her completely off kilter as she was pressed against his chest, her arms trapped between the two of them. Despite spending several months within the prison already, his grip was strong enough to give her no room to struggle, pressing tighter as she attempted to wriggle away. She gave up eventually, stilling as Dream gently tugged his fingers through her soft strands, pressing his lips to the top of her head affectionately as his breath disrupted the still strands. 

“I missed you, you know.” He murmured into her scalp, (Y/N) fighting down the urge to stiffen at his words. His voice had slipped into the old, coy, syrupy sweet tone she knew, any unthought words or actions were certain to be snared in his attention, words twisted to poke and prod at her vulnerable parts, backing her into a corner before she relented and allowed him to coo sugar-covered lies into her mind. 

He turned his face to press his cheek against her head, leaving his next words to be heard clearer in the open air. 

“I’ve been so alone in here, why didn’t you ever come visit me?” 

(Y/N) tightened her hands into fists, keeping completely still even as his tighter hold seemed to loosen in favor of skimming his fingertips wherever he could reach on her figure, drifting dangerously close to the exposed skin at the collar of her shirt. 

“I’ve been busy, built a house.” She answered back, the sentence short and containing enough information to not be pointless, tone betraying nothing about her screaming terror and pleas to be anywhere else within her head. 

Dream hummed in response, lifting a section of hair to peer at it. “You must’ve been quite busy then. Your hair’s grown, you know? Shame I don’t have anything to tie it with in prison.” (Y/N) shrugged in response, imagining the bottle’s worth of shampoo she’d have to liberally apply to her locks to erase any history of his contact with it. 

The male huffed dramatically, releasing her hair to draw her closer (as if that was possible) and dropping his head onto her shoulder. “Oh (Y/N),” he whined, the female nearly cringing away at the all too believable tone flowing from his lips, “it's been so dreadfully lonely in prison. You know that no one’s visited me? It's terrible.”

She didn’t know what else to do other than shrug half heartedly, awaiting the drop, the final implication of his words. He turned his head to lower his volume, leaving his words still heard as clear as day from his close position to her ear. 

“You won’t abandon me though darling, will you? You’ll visit me, right? It’s oh so torturous to be alone in here, you know.” 

(Y/N) considered making a quip about how Dream still had Sam, but she decided against it, biting her tongue to prevent any unnecessary sentences that would lead into a further conversation, expertly manipulated in Dream’s honey tone and sweet words. 

“I’d like to,” she replied, pausing for a moment as Dream silently awaited her next words, “but it's uncomfortable like this, isn’t it? I don’t want to come just because you decided to go on some hunger strike.” Dream’s fingers sunk into her flesh, the female wincing as his nails left crescent marks before he loosened from her reaction. 

He chuckled, “Oh come on now, you can’t tell me you’d come properly without it.” he purred, (Y/N) gave a half hearted motion resembling a shrug, pushing her head away from his chest to peer at the corner. 

“I can come regularly, once a week, but it can’t be comfortable to starve yourself every time just to get one visit.”

(Y/N) wasn’t entirely certain if it would work, even in prison, Dream still tugged on the strings connected to her, controlling her actions. But it was this or having Sam drag her back unwillingly, her built haven of safety giving way to constant paranoia and fear of the next time she’d see the flash of netherite armor coming for her. 

Dream pushed her head back into his shoulder, curling over her to whisper in her ear, “You promise?” (Y/N)’s words would be too muffled against the fabric of his orange jumper, so she merely gave a nod, the action more than pleasing the male before her. 

“Oh it’ll be great,” Dream admitted, pulling away to push her chin upwards to face his gaze, smiling as if she’d promised she’d be coming to visit everyday (she held down the shiver of such a thing occurring if Dream were to protest enough). “It’s not as if you have plans with other people anyway,” he chuckled as if it were an inside joke between the two, and (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut to not shove the news in his face that she was healing. That she was interacting with the other occupants of the server, after Dream had made so many precautions and actions to prevent the exact happening, tied her to him with every human’s bone deep dependency on social contact. 

The moment lasted too long and (Y/N) tugged herself away from the embrace, Dream releasing her now that he’d gotten what he wanted. (He could always hug her again during her next visit.)

She slowly turned around to peer at the flowing lava barricade, watching the bubbles form and pop. Surely it had been long enough already? Surely Sam was on the opposite end, already pulling the lever to allow her to leave?

Dream protested her actions immediately, a hand appearing on her wrist to pull her further into the room as a frown tugged at his lips, a tense smile slipping into place as she peered at his face with a confused expression. 

“Come on,” he pulled her across the floor, opening the chest in the corner. One hand kept a constant hold on her as the other riffled through the contents, leather bound books thumping against his other as he searched for a specific one. “I’ve been writing stuff in the meantime, nothing else to do you know? Here, I wanted you to read this o-” 

An explosion rang out, muted by the thick obsidian walls and the surrounding lava, but abrupt enough to startle (Y/N), yelping as she tripped over her own feet. Dream clasped her to his form easily, holding her protectively as the sounds of exploding TNT rang out, the damage left to the imagination. Silence rung out for a moment and (Y/N) yanked herself out of the male’s hold, stumbling slightly from the unexpected ease it took to leave it. 

She stammered, already making her way to the lava curtain pulled shut. “That’s it, I don’t- that’s enough. Sam!-” 

A louder, closer explosion cut her off, leaving her to throw herself backwards and scramble away from the expected blast, flashes of battles leaving her tense for an incoming attack. There was none, nothing other than Dream curling his arms around her frame again, pulling her close as she stared, wide eyed and frozen to her only escape, barricaded by flowing lava. 

“Sam... Sam, let me out,” she croaked, the words hardly reaching the male behind her, much less the one controlling the prison itself. The blasts finally quieted, the tense silence ringing in her ears as Dream casually reached forwards to tuck a few strands of her hair behind her ear, as if explosions ringing out within a prison were a completely natural occurrence. 

She wanted to snap, to smack his hand away and yell at him for what was happening (even though it wasn’t possible, he was in prison, he had no power or visitors-), though the crackle of the hidden intercom in the room cut off any thoughts, her eyes darting about for the disembodied static filling the room. 

“Sam, Sam, please”, she whimpered, the mask clad figure behind her shushing her as she trembled. 

“(Y/N), I’m-”, Sam hesitated, before she heard the Warden’s voice filter through, cold and collected, steadfast when he wasn’t the one trapped in a small cell with their manipulative ex lover and the villain of the entire server. “There’s been a security breach. I can’t let any visitors in or out until the cause is found. I’ll be investigating in the meantime.” 

The com crackled off and (Y/N) hated her mind for flashing to a particular line of text written within one of the books she had been handed, dread curling in the pit of her stomach. 

In the event of security protocol- I hereby acknowledge that I could potentially be locked within the cell for up to 7 days, or until the security issue is resolved. 

“Well,” Dream’s calm tone cut through her fear gripped panic, too proud and tilting for the current situation. “It looks like your visit has been extended.” 

He pulled her limp body against his chest, resting his head on top of her head as (Y/N) shut her eyes, imagining the safe cottage she had built in the woods, far far away from the prison. 

But the heat from the lava was too hot to compare to the soft breeze. And the suffocating grip on her was worse than any nightmares she had woken from.

[prof-peach]

Out of all of the pokemon you have taken care of, which one do you think it was the hardest to deal with? Be cuz they were in a pretty bad shape, or just personality wise?

We get rumbunctious and rowdy Pokemon all the time, our works nature brings them to us probably more than any other issue, outside of grass Pokemon care and management. Anger and nervousness is something we have a good hold of here, and try to help iron out of various species. I do a lot of that work, and on occasion, Grey will do the odd water type with these problems, as I tend to shy away from those. For the most part, they are short stint stays, a couple months, to a couple years helping them to rewire their anger into a more productive feeling or energy. That being said, there’s alwasy the odd Pokemon who comes our way who’s just a step above the rest. So here’s some stories of the ones who have had to stay with us, for their temperament and behaviour.

On the north side of the island, we house the biggest, meanest Pokemon, and the individuals who are very timid and nervous around people. We do this to ensure they have space to live undisturbed in peace, but also to protect guests and visitors from being eaten, crushed, blasted, or otherwise harmed. Some of the northern residents are difficult yes, but most are just stroppy or uncomfortable with the majority of humans, but there are a handful that are actively engaged in harming or hunting people.

One such Pokemon is a rather nasty tempered Drampa, he came to us about five or so years ago now, kindly donated by being abandoned on our shores, it’s original trainer leaving the ball and hopping on a boat without alerting us, or letting the individual know. We figured it would be possible to rehome it, they’re usually a rather reasonable Pokemon to handle, considering their typing. We were wrong. This Pokemon when let out of the ball, went on a monsterous rampage for four days, destroying forests, toppling buildings, blasting holes in the mountain to try to burrow away, and picking fights with anything it’s size or bigger, often causing great harm to others. The island didn’t rest for that entire time, most Pokemon cowering from it, bigger species trying to halt them, all in vain. It took an entire troop of grass Pokemon using sleep powder to knock it out, the Drampa moved about so fast, one single grass type didn’t stand a chance to produce enough spores in time. It took a lot of work but we knocked the old boy out, and got a good look at him. His body was riddled with arthritis, not medicated, he would thrash about and cause himself so much pain and discomfort. He had overgrown nails, the feet hidden in the fur they have around their torso, often overlooked, and it’s ability to fly was limited because of its general condition and state. We began helping it, medicating it’s aislments, aiding it’s inflamed joints, but it never really calmed down, so now it chills out alone on the coast of the north side, left well alone, it doesn’t even like the company of other Pokemon.

We’ve done our best to interact with it, to socialise it, to generally get it use to people enough to do medical checks, but it’s still very resistant. We have decided that after two years of hard work, and it being tolerant to me, at least to check it’s health and wellbeing, that it’s best to let it live it’s life unbothered. Many would push a Pokemon to be a perfect social being, but we don’t believe it’s necessary for happiness. Some species are happy to be away from others, I wouldn’t push a human to be social, I know how awful that can be, so we didn’t force the individual to be around others either. It’s not that it’s unhappy, we spot it from time to time sitting on the rocks by the ocean, humming to itself, and the small pidgey and tailow that come by don’t bother it, and even give mild brief conversation. He seems ok, the medicine given means he’s in less pain, despite still having stiffness, and in the winter we’ve built him a unique space, rocky cover much like a cave, just above a Macargo hide where they lay eggs. The heat from those Pokemon keep its cave very hot, and help in the cold to ease the joint aches. The two species have different entrances, making sure they never meet within the hide at any point. There’s a good slab of rock dividing them, so it’s not an issue, and saves us having to pipe hot water over that far for him. He eats well, has a few items he’s kept from the labs, a toy sentret, and a large red ball, and generally is in a good place to live out his life in peace now.

Another difficult member would be a particularly timid Slazzle, gifted to us by a police member who had confiscated it from a rather mean individual close to her home town, they had been hurting the poor Pokemon, forcing it to produce an insane amount of poison liquid, throwing water on the poor thing every time it tried to ignite to retaliate, generally abusing the poor thing for its life, apparently it had been locked away since it was a young unevolved Pokemon. They’d been harvesting the poisons from the Slazzle and dropping it into various water sources to try to control the local Pokemon population, as they blamed the wild ones for the state of their land, and diminished crops yield from their allotment. Jokes on them, that water poisoning affected them too, and their garden died very quickly, and made the man quite sick through consumption of the crops he grew there. The slazzle is still very skittish, will hide at any given moment, we’ve seen her ignite an entire building in one move, and then bolt away through the flames to lose our line of sight. She managed to stay hidden for two weeks on the island, before we caught sight of her again. Generally she’s just a case fo neglect but we have been working with her now for a long while, 3 ish years, and her temperament is at least manageable amongst our staff. We have found her others of her kind to help her settle, and she’s become good friends with a Wartortle who came from the same area, they bond over memories of the place, and seem very happy in each others company.

We’ve found ways to keep her grounded, but she never goes near people when we have open days, slinks off through the big fence to the north side, and waits out the visiting hours until night. They’re not usually nocturnal but she likes the night, and spends her time looking about, foraging and feeding in the later hours. If you’re quiet you can catch her moving around the forests and the base of the mountains here, talking with the occasional individual, she seems to enjoy Murkrow too, their company seems to keep her quite social, as they usually move in large flocks here. She may never be rehomed, but for now we try to socialise her, we don’t battle her, and she has a very calm and peaceful nook to go to when she’s having a rough time. We make sure to provide support where possible, and though she’s a little skittish she’s somewhat happy to have myself and Grey, even Pari take a look at any wounds or scrapes she may gain while living here. She’s become trusting enough to come to us if we call, and who knows, maybe someone will come our way who she takes an interest in. There’s hope for her yet, we have however become quite fond of her, and she’s part of the furniture now. It may end up that she never leaves, and lives her life in peace here, surrounded by people and Pokemon who love her. Her panic makes her very difficult to pass to another trainer, and she’s prone to spitting up huge quantities of toxic liquid when spooked, and bolts at a slight bang or rumble.

One I have kept back for a number of reasons, is a rather mean tempered Aerodactyl. Normally we get Pokemon sent to us, but this one I ended up finding myself, some circus had her chained up in a box hardly big enough to turn around in, an attraction to the masses as they travelled through the area. The leader of that troop was particularly awful, treating Pokemon as commodities, items to be bought and sold, used as toys in his big performances. Boiled my blood. We called her Zeplin, and after 12 years she has still got a nasty temper on her, when not focused on a task. Her condition when we first found her was quite something, tattered wings, unable to fly straight at all, and she was littered with cuts and bruises, not in good health. Val has melted the chains that bound her, and the lock in her cage, and she just went, like a bat out of hell, flew off, blasting the tent that hid her quarters, burning a lot of the circus as she went. Little did I know, my foot was in one of the chain links, and I got dragged off with her, the ground, Val, all my other team mates, falling from my pocket, or being left on the floor where we had once been standing. She flew, and kept going, not aware I was still attached, you could see her wings were having a hard time catching the breeze, littered with holes and tears, she went for about two hours, I nearly froze that high up, trying to get a good grip on what chain was left so I didn’t come falling from that height. We came to a very sudden crash landing, she hadn’t had much chance to practice the whole take off - land thing from the feel of it, we both ate dirt, and she became very aware that I was there all of a sudden.

I had about three seconds while she assessed my presence, to get out of the chain, and dive behind a rock that gave me cover from an almighty blast of energy, chipping away bits, catching my arm a little. Trust me when I say, it’s terrifying coming face to face with something that stands a fair few meters taller than you, with more teeth and claws than you’re comfortable with dealing with, with none of your Pokemon, no weaponry, no real plan or cover other than a rock. How she didn’t eat me, I don’t know. Perhaps she knew it was me that let her go, maybe she just ran out of energy, but for whatever reason, she made a few bits and tail lashes at me, missed the lot, and gave up, turning to stomp off into the forests around us. She was still shackled with heavy irons, one on the neck, two on the legs, and was in serious condition, so I did the stupid thing and followed her, tried to sneak my way behind, though every now and then she would look towards me, and try to focus on my form in the dark of night now. It was a few days, she had stalked some prey, fed, and was starting to ooze from some wounds. Though the circus was unkind, they were providing her with medication that stopped further infections occurring, perhaps a scarred beast of great size drew more punters, maybe they were just making sure she survived to make them money, I still don’t know.

I hunted herbs, dug out roots with rocks, used river water, and common berries and managed to fashion some kind of salve, nothing amazing, especially back at that age, but it would work, I knew it would because I used it on my own wounds first. Just had to convince her it was a good thing to let me get close. Not an easy task. We physically brawled, she was clearly spent, not able to use any attacks, just thrashing about, I managed to trip her with the chains still attached to her legs, and once downed, you can jump on the head of these Pokemon to keep the jaws shut, just long enough to lather the wounds you can reach, then bolt fast. It was a small act, but she took off running again. With some wounds sort of cared for, I followed again, fishing for dinner, forraging roots to chew on. It wasn’t much but it kept me going, then one night, where I had climbed to a crook of a large tree, using my jacket to tie myself in for a nights sleep, I was awoken by loud rustling, thudding of feet, and a mighty huff.

Below where I sat, the Pokemon had returned, being no doubt well aware of my presence, following the smell of human, she had noticed the salve do a good job on the wounds I managed to reach, but the ones I couldn’t get near had become far worse, red, inflamed and weeping terribly, no doubt hurting and itching. I’d seen her rubbing her sides in the day, itching gasinst rocks and trees, smearing blood and ooze along her path as she trudged. So here we were, alone in the woods, I veeeeery carefully climbed down, staying in cover as much as possible, and over the space of an hour or two, she let me come out into the open, teeth bared yeah, but she hadn’t attacked, and other than a very uncomfortable, low growl, she allowed me to creep closer, some more of that salve made more for my own wounds than hers, being sniffed at, she licked it too, but wasn’t happy with the taste, very bitter, and I was cautiously optimistic, allowed to help her heal the rest of the cuts she had acquired from her old home. So we began our....I want to say friendship but that wasn’t it, it was a collaboration to survive.

We had landed somewhere far from others, I missed my team, and she had never experienced anything outside of the cage, and so we banded together, tentatively. We caught dinner as a team, and climbed for fruits, foraged for berries, reapplying what loose form of medicine I managed to make, before coming to some kind of comfortable companionship together. A week passed, wandering without a clue where we were, before a path was found, she seemed to want to avoid it, and while I wasn’t keen on people much either, it was impossible not to want to find my team again. They needed me, and I needed them. If they had been found, a police officer or the likes may have sent them to my original professor, waiting to be called from the PC system again, but knowing Val, she had grabbed the balls, my things, and bolted to hide, waiting for my return. In desperation I tried to explain this to the Aerodactyl, who had not experienced a trainers care before, and seemed reluctant to return.

It was only upon mentioning revenge, to burn the circus to the ground, that I regained her attention, and we came to a slow agreement to get aid, gather items, and return to where she had been released from. She waited in the forest while I went to town, checking my PC space to see if my team had been handed in, which they had! It was lucky, I was reunited with Val (vulpix), Booker (teddiursa), and Potato (bulbasaur) who I took back, and returned to the woods with.

We had to get some revenge, and in turn we devised a plan to free the Pokemon first, sneak in and pick the locks, melt the chains and gates, and then finally, let the aerodactyl do her thing once the vulnerable individuals were loose. I did my best to hold back my own personal rage, and simply aid the demise of a group who were awful towards Pokemon through this one big flying type. I wint go into details but no one perished in the fire, they were arrested and charged for unsafe work conditions, and abuse towards Pokemon, not to mention false advertising, having no worker’s Compensation in pace for injury, which many staff complained of, and several incidents of sexual harassment in the work place that were brought to light.

Once one started to talk, the others all joined in, and the fire was put down to unsafe working conditions and a lack of health and safety. From what I heard, the whole circus worth of Pokemon were rehomed, helped and generally lived much better lives after that. However now we had one very mistrusting angry Aerodactyl on our hands, a Pokemon I had not worked with before, who had seemingly become quite tolerant of me, but would snap at just about anyone who clocked eyes with her. So I kind of just kept her, no ball, not for a fair few years, we both didn’t think it was important. She was nursed back to health, and we had to go through a lot of training together, she bit booker once quite badly, but we’ve all put that in the past, and have worked on it together.

She is still testing, she won’t be ridden by anyone else, she doesn’t care for other Pokemon much, crowds will spook her, she doesn’t like when people talk with raised voices or hostile tones, and gets real irritable if you come at her in any kind of way that isn’t open handed, calm and slowly. She’s now a very capable flier, wings healed up, spending her first half of life locked up made her long for the open sky, so now we take time together to go off and ride winds when work is slow, and she’s helped in many ways to make the island functional, by moving logs, clearing paths, helping lift building materials around, and generally being there for me when I’m full of rage, which is actually annoyingly often. We’re anger buddies hah, kind of get on the same level with it. She’s become so much part of my family, and I feel like i’m part of hers now too, so I doubt she’d be rehomed, but should she find somewhere she would rather be, we wouldn’t stop her going. She is difficult, angry, snappy, tempermental, difficult, won’t be touched by strangers, likes to fight, but I’d not change her, she’s our testing monster, who we love and adore.

Went off a bit, but I figured why not, I know her, and can write more about her life and story than the others.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Haven

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: This was already posted on ao3 last week so I’m just putting it here too.

A few familiar characters show up and as for the timeline, as mentioned we're right after it was announced the Berlin Wall would come down, so we're in about 1990 atm. That means certain events in the MCU timeline have changed or haven't even happened!

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

Steve asked James, rather this man he called ‘Bucky, if he had a car. You thought it odd since James had sought the man out for help but you trusted that he was cautious enough for the both of you.

You’d left the car a few streets over. You sat in the back with Luka as he began to nod off and James drove as Steve gave directions. You hugged your son anxiously and inhaled the scent of his unwashed hair. You hoped you would have a bed for the night, if you were fortunate, a shower.

The street lights cast shadows on the men in the front as the New York streets passed by. Even a soviet-born Russian like yourself marveled at the infamous city. Never in all your life had you expected to end up there.

“You don’t live in Brooklyn?” James asked as his gripped the steering wheel.

“I do. Bought mom’s old place,” Steve answered, “But I can’t take you there, Buck.”

James was silent. He sighed as you pondered this friend’s name for him. ‘Bucky’. It sounded odd and didn’t seem to fit the man you knew. And yet, like much of his character, it confounded you. Perhaps it suited him after all.

“Not because of you, but to protect you,” Steve intoned. “Same reason we didn’t take my car.”

“Protect me?” James peeked in the rear view mirror as you stared at his silhouette.

“I’ll explain when we’re standing still,” Steve said curtly as he brushed back his hair with his fingers.

“Right,” James said grimly. “How ya doin’ back there?”

“Fine,” You answered in Russian without thinking. He nodded and continued on.

Silence pervaded the cramped space of the Chrysler as Steve pointed James down the next street. Luka’s soft snores floated around you and warmed your chest as he leaned against you. You dared to hope that you might sleep that night.

James pulled into an underground garage next to a high rise. The two men climbed out of the front seat and James opened the door for you and took Luka gently into his arms. The boy didn’t stir as he was cradled against his father. You stepped out into the smelly garage and Steve waved you onward.

He led you up a staircase and past several business housed in the building above. He stopped at an unmarked metal door one would assume was a utility closet and shoved a key in the slot. He opened it carefully and ushered you inside. The door closed heavily behind him as he flipped the lights on.

Within was a small living space that surprised you. There was a sofa, chair, a single bed in the corner, and a smaller door just beside the narrow counter along the wall. There was a square table at the far end with a boxy computer and an old telephone. James’s eyes scanned the room as if searching for some trap.

“A safehouse for now,” Steve explained. “This is my Plan B but haven’t had to use it so far.”

“Plan B for what?” James hissed.

“Just in case,” Steve shrugged. “It’s safe here, besides.” He strode past the couch and turned back. “This folds out.”

James nodded and crossed to the small bed in the corner. He sat as he laid Luka down and slipped him beneath the quilt. He touched his cheek before he parted and stood to face his old friend. Steve looked between the two of you.

“So, I take it you two met in Russia?” Steve chuckled. “You know, that’s a long way to go for a wife, Buck.”

James said nothing as he tucked his hands in his jeans pockets. The phone rang and Steve flinched as he grabbed it before the second chime. He put it to his ear and listened. He replied with two short words; “Eagle. Demo.”

The line clicked loudly from the mouthpiece and Steve replaced the phone in its cradle.

“We have tonight,” Steve stated as he leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “You can rest. Get clean up in the shower,” He nodded towards the other door, “There’s food in the cupboard. Basic rations but we’ll get better tomorrow.”

“Then what?” James asked sharply. “We go to S.H.I.E.L.D.? That’s who you’re with, right?”

“I am and I’m not,” Steve answered. “But the important thing is I know people who can keep you safe.”

“Safe? Do you even know what we’re running from?” Bucky sneered.

“Not hard to guess,,” Steve tilted his head and sniffed. “Buck, do you have any idea how unbelievable this is? That you’re still alive? How much of a relief it is?” He dropped his arms and pushed himself away from the table. He crossed to James and clapped his shoulder, “Bucky.”

The other man winced and grabbed Steve’s hand. He pushed it away and held up his own. He slowly rolled his glove up his palm and slid free his fingers. He turned his metal hand in show and lowered it in shame.

“Can’t say they never gave me any gifts,” James uttered, “Though I would say I paid for it.”

Steve frowned as he watched James’ hand then looked him in the eye.

“Well, good thing I didn’t say anything about finding you in one piece,” Steve scoffed.

“Ha,” James snorted and shook his head. “You promise your friends are gonna play nice?”

“You trust me?” Steve challenged.

“Always,” James avowed.

“They’ll play nice.” Steve assured him, “But you know it’s not that simple.”

“I know,” James grumbled as Steve brushed by him and went to the door, “But I’m not worried about me.” He paused and looked at you, then Luka, “You understand?”

“I do. You know we’ve always been as good as family, Buck.”

“That was a long time ago,” James insisted. “A different life.”

“Yeah,” Steve rested his hand on the door handle. “But we’re not so different.” Steve smiled and peered past James, “It was nice to meet you.” He opened the door slowly as he spoke. “You two have a good night. Get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

Steve shut the door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway. The door locked from the other side and James stared at the metal barrier. You stood behind him, still, silent, watching as he hung his head. You neared the couch and sat.

“James,” You said gently, “You are going to sit and tell me who Bucky is and how he knows Steve Rogers.”

James turned and swallowed as he looked at you. He approached reluctantly and sat beside you. He leaned back and gripped his thighs as if to brace himself. His fingers danced on his knee anxiously and he nodded.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Rogers is my best friend. We served together in Europe. We grew up together in Brooklyn. He was this kid, used to wear newspapers in his shoes, built like a toothpick. His mother, Sarah, was his only family besides me. But that was before I died in the war; before I was the Soldat…”

✰

James let you have the foldout couch to yourself. You were unused to the emptiness beside you but you hadn’t the heart to move Luka as he dozed soundly. James took his usual spot on the floor.  He slept with his back against the door though you doubted he actually got much rest. You woke often and looked at him, sometimes his head slumped down, and others he seemed to stare endlessly into the dark.

James roused first and you sat up as you heard him open the cupboard. You grumbled and stripped the thin mattress before folding it away. You left the thin blankets in the chair as James turned on the single burner on the counter. He set the kettle atop it and turned to face you.

“Tea?” He asked. You nodded as he leaned against the counter.

Luka slept on and you let him until a knock came at the door and woke him. As James set out two mugs of steaming tea, three short raps came and had him frozen. He motioned for you to stay back as he neared the door and you went to Luka as he rubbed his eyes and sat up in confusion.

James unlocked the door and inched it open. His shoulders dropped and he stepped back to let Steve in. Another man followed him and James quickly stiffened. The man strode haughtily inside, his silver hair combed back neatly, as he wore a tailored suit that bespoke of money.

“Howard,” James greeted the strange man with a grimace. The door closed heavily and pierced the tension between them. “Why’s he here?”

“He’s a friend. A real friend.” Steve said.

You helped Luka out of bed and sat him at the table with the box of tea biscuits you found in the cupboard.

“Don’t be rude, James,” You managed in your best English, “You ask if they want tea.”

“James,” The man he called Howard chuckled.

James sighed. “Do you want tea?” He asked tersely.

“We’re good,” Howard answered with a smirk. “So, I think my first question is where they came from?” He pointed at you and Luka. “Lucky the kid looks like his mom.”

“Really, Steve? This jackass.”

“Buck, you don’t understand. S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not… not safe. There're approximately three people you can trust in this country and we’re two of them.” Steve insisted.

“Three? Who’s the third?”

“Peggy,” Steve replied curtly. “Everyone else, well, we’ve figured there hand-in-hand with the bastards who chased you here.”

“Hydra?” James asked, Steve nodded. “They’re here? Where?”

“Calm down,” Howard strolled around the room as he felt around in his jacket. “We’ll fill you in once you do the same for us.” The man stopped beside Luka and pulled out a bill. “Here, kid, maybe later you’re mother can take you out to buy some candy.”

Luka’s eyes rounded at the money and you nodded to him. “What do you say, mishka?”

“Thank you, sir,” He smiled and accepted the money.

“You didn’t have to--” You said as Howard grinned.

“Got a boy myself. Bit older but I miss when he was smaller. Easier to handle.” He said. “And I’m fairly sure those cookies are well past stale.”

“So it’s just the three of you? Against Hydra?” James interjected. “You really think you can help me?”

“We have safeguards,” Howard turned back. “And it’s better to keep enemies close.”

“Not Hydra,” James’ hands balled into fists. “You don’t understand--”

“No, but we want to try.” Howard neared him. “Look, I’d say that kid is what? Four? Five? And there was a certain Soviet assassin that just up and disappeared as many years ago. A certain experiment abandoned after its perpetrators were slaughtered… think maybe you can fill in the details?”

James paled and looked to you. His eyes fell to Luka and he blinked. “Not in front of the kid.” He glanced at Steve pleadingly. “I’ll talk,” James snarled, “Just… the boy. He can’t--” He took a breath. “Come on, Howard. You said you had a son, too. Please.”

“It’s early, we don’t have to get into it right now,” He raised his hand defensively. “I just needed to know that I was right.”

“And I need to know that you’re gonna keep them safe. I don’t care about me, but they didn’t do anything.” James stepped closer to the man until they were chest to chest. “You swear to me that they’re safe and I will tell you everything.”

“Mother knows something too, she must,” Howard said.

“I tell you,” You stood and squeezed Luka’s shoulder before you left him. “But as James say, not in front of boy.”

Howard considered you then turned back to James. “We’ll move you tonight. Bigger place, much nicer too. Then, we’ll have a long debriefing.” He turned to Steve and checked his watch. “You keep them here until I can get it sorted out. You know the rules.”

“Got it,” Steve said. “And Peggy?”

“One thing at a time,” Howard said as he went to the door, “As far as she’s concerned, you took the day off.”

[readyplayerhobi]

A Universe To You

; Soulmate!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Mentions of an accident and injury resulting from it, discussions of poverty, minor breakdown, oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex

; Word Count: 41k

; Synopsis: Life for you has always been dull and grey; not only because you grew up on the most over-populated and polluted planet in the galaxy but because you’re colourblind. You’re convinced it’s because you have a soulmate out there, but soulmates are a forgotten concept now that humanity has spread across the stars. What happens then, when you finally escape Earth and discover colour with the touch of a man on a planet in which soulmates are just a tale of myth?

; A/N: Hi, yes. I’m sorry this is so long lol I half proof-read it but...it’s just so long and I’m so done with it haha. Sorry if it’s bad ;-; please reblog it (if you’re on desktop, it’ll kill your phone) and please leave me comments, asks or reviews! I’m convinced this isn’t actually all that great, my first soulmate attempt :/

-

The familiar roar of a star engine rattles through the ramshackle apartment you’d grown up in, the noise outrageously loud and yet no one in the cramped space pays any notice. It’s the price of living next to the Busan Spaceport unfortunately. The rent is astonishingly cheap, relative to how much anything costs in the 32nd century, but that’s only because it came with the downside of pollution.

All kinds of pollution. Noise pollution from the roars of starships and starfreighters as they fired up their engines, their fusion cores pushing them high into the sky and past the atmosphere limit where they would then jump into hyperspace, heading for whatever planet was next on their list.

Light pollution, from the blinding neon of the signage that littered the area surrounding the dirty port. Signs that screamed everything under the sun was for sale here in Busan, which it was. From entertainment screens to the latest in clothing to prostitutes and cosmetic surgery, everything was for sale here on Earth.

Most of it was supposed to be regulated, and a large portion of it was supposed to be illegal. But Earth had stopped caring about laws a long time ago. Probably five centuries at least. A few billion people ago. Maybe back when you could actually see the sky without it being consumed with the constant smog of pollution from the factories that belched smoke and other contaminants into the air.

Ironically enough, the star engines that were in the various ships, liners, freighters and more were actually incredibly environmentally friendly. They made a lot of noise, but they were relatively clean compared to what Earth produced. 

That was probably because other planet’s actually gave a fuck about their environments. You’d heard that there were whole planets out there that had developed entirely clean technology. Neutral carbon, nothing toxic or deadly going into their atmospheres, nothing choking their plant life or killing off their living species.

It was hard for you to imagine really. You’d grown up here in Busan, the second largest city in Old Korea. Centuries upon centuries ago, Busan had been a hub of freight for the old world and it’s old technologies. Actual ships that had travelled upon the oceans had arrived and departed from the now gone port.

That old method of transport had taken weeks to get anything anywhere, or so the e-book’s said. You could believe it, even though you’d never even heard of anyone going on a boat or a marine ship. People didn’t do that anymore. Not since the oceans had turned toxic from the pollution centuries ago.

Any fish or seafood that was for sale on Earth was either processed, by which it meant that it didn’t contain any actual seafood and instead was just made up of various fake food that had been manufactured to taste vaguely like what it was intended to be, or was shipped in from off-planet. 

Only the rich could afford to eat seafood anymore. Those who lived near inland lakes that hadn’t been overfished in the years after the seas died could also afford to eat fish. It was a luxury now, more rare than diamonds had been in the 21st century.

The idea of a small gemstone being worth a lot of money was laughable now. They’d discovered a whole asteroid made of diamond four centuries ago and had been mining it ever since. Diamonds were as rare as mice in today’s world. Fish on the other hand? Now that was rare.

Despite the overpopulation of Earth and the environmental devastation that had occured, people still sought what little comforts they could. Which meant that even the poorest tried to stay away from living around the spaceports of each city. It meant the apartments were cheap, but you’d grown up listening to the scream of engines and experiencing the building shake subtly every time one took off or landed.

In a bizarre way, it was almost helpful. You could sleep through anything now. But on the downside, it was a visible sign of the poverty your family lived in. One of the few ways to earn near enough guaranteed money was to be able to get onto one of the United Nations of Earth benefits programmes. It was almost a badge of honour for some people, as it meant a near enough constant steady stream of income that could be used to pay rent, buy food or simply live.

Some people abused it, just like people had abused governmental benefits throughout the history of Earth. But most people desperately needed it.

Earth had lots of people. It did not have lots of jobs to match. 

The only real job available on Earth now were factory jobs, building the items and products that the rest of the civilised galaxy bought for cheap. Someone in the early years of the 2nd millennium might have thought that Earth would be given some grand status amongst planets in whatever future space exploration they did.

It was the birthplace of humanity after all.

They would be wrong.

Your home planet was where products and items were built cheaply, relying on the overwhelming number of factories and warehouses that grew like weeds amongst the cities and taking advantage of the over abundant population. With a population of twenty billion people living in squalid cities and towns that were millennia old, creaking with age and underfunded to cope with all those who lived in them, there were plenty of people desperate for a job.

Which meant you didn’t need to pay much to get something. Most factories underpaid their workers because they always knew they could get more. There were no such things as trade unions anymore. People needed work too much to care about things like workers rights. Anyone who got too vocal simply lost their job.

Your parents had been able to gain governmental benefits because of your dad. He’d been a part of the United Nations Navy, which meant the navy in space, obviously. His career had been cut short when his battle cruiser had been destroyed in an attack from terrorists fifteen years ago, ending up back at home while he recovered from losing his legs.

As a result, he’d retired from the navy and been given a military pension, which was incredibly hard to get, along with disability benefits due to him being injured so badly in service to the government. It made him a rarity, and should have meant that in conjunction with your mom’s three jobs as a cleaner that your family would be able to live somewhere a little nicer.

Nicer being a relative time on Earth of course.

But they’d chosen the worst place because it was the cheapest, because of you. Because they’d been informed by your daycare centre that you were showing surprising promise in education. To the degree that they suggested possibly trying to get you sent to a private school that offered a better education than the public schools.

So they had. And they’d succeeded. All the money they saved from skimping on food and rent went to paying your education fees, buying your uniform and school supplies. You took the skybus to class every day and came home the same way, trying to limit your burden on your family.

Scholarships and bursaries were hard earned by you throughout school and you studied hard to make sure that your parents sacrifices weren’t in vain. They had dreams for you, hopes. Hopes that other people on this shithole of a planet had long given up. They wanted you to escape here, to escape the constant spiral of poverty, overpopulation, pollution and more.

To live a life without worrying every day.

Not that poverty and stuff wasn’t an issue on other planets too, but it was far less of an issue than here. The poorest planet in the galaxy was still richer than the citizens of Earth. Whether in terms of real money or just overall living conditions.

You wanted that for yourself too. So desperately. So badly. You wanted to look up at the sky on a night and have the bright lights be twinkling stars that had probably died millions of years ago instead of simply just being the lights of star engines as they powered away. To look at an ocean that wasn’t filled with sludge and pollution and more.

Resting your head against the double paned window, you sighed softly and watched yet another starfreighter rumble it’s way out of the port. It was big, astonishingly big, and extremely hulky. Despite that, it was still sleek and refined, allowing it to cut through the air and atmosphere with ease as it groaned its way further into the sky.

You knew that calling it a starfreighter was wrong in reality. The actual starfreighter’s never came down to the planet itself. They couldn’t; they were too big. What left the depot here planetside was basically a mini freighter, trekking containers and more up to the giant ships that were in orbit until it was full. Those ships physically couldn’t try to land on a planet, they were too big and unwieldy and would burn up in the atmosphere.

It was the same with large war ships and such. You couldn’t even imagine the size of what was out in space, not when what went up there was big enough to big a tower block like yours shudder and shake. 

You wanted to though. Oh, the ache to see the galaxy and more than what life had handed you was so strong. Maybe it was your parents fault for instilling in you the desire and need to achieve more than what the society you’d grown up in expected from you.

“Have you heard yet?” The gentle sound of your mom’s voice distracts you from your thoughts, causing you to look over at her with a slight smile. She looks tired, and you realise with a pang that she looks old. You knew that other planets had managed to achieve astonishing life averages, with life extending sciences causing the average age of a woman in the galaxy to now be 123.

On Earth it was 64. 

It made you want to cry sometimes when you looked at your parents, at how exhausted they seemed. How at 50 they were already approaching what was viewed as the twilight years here. It wasn’t fair. They worked so hard, working themselves to the bone for you and you knew that even if everything went well, they still probably wouldn’t see their 70th birthday.

Her cleaning uniform was stained and dirty as usual but you could see the hope in her eyes. Shaking your head, you reached out and pulled her into a tight hug before sighing softly.

“Not yet mom. But it’s supposed to be today. I’m just...thinking I guess.” Pausing, you shift until you’re resting back against the aged synthetic fibre couch that had come with the shoddy apartment. Water stains do the ceiling while the beige carpet has been worn threadbare over the decades. A slight odour of garbage emanated from the attached kitchen, probably coming up from the sink or something.

These buildings were old and no one cared enough to fix them properly. The one plus side of it was that a broken elevator meant that you’d always maintained a certain level of fitness by having to climb fifteen flights of stairs. A downside was that it relegated your dad to work that could only be done from home.

“What if I didn’t get in? Or if I did but they want me to pay tuition and stuff? Will the government cover that for me? I don’t know.” Playing with the loose thread of your pants, you bite your lip in desperation as uncertainty washes over you.

You’re waiting for the notification to inform you of whether or not you passed the university entrance exams. They were a galaxy wide set of exams, the exact same that every planet had to take at what was considered to be relatively the same time. It was standardised to ensure that universities from all planets could assess candidates equally.

The only difference was that the exams were each translated into the relevant language of wherever the student lived. 

But it didn’t really matter if you passed the exams or not. Each student was instructed to apply for ten universities from the list of all available universities in the galaxy. It was an astonishingly large list that was ranked in various ways; from best value to the best teaching to the best student life and so forth.

Unsurprisingly, Earth universities ranked lowest in every score. They were the universities that only other Earthen students attended, pumping out people with just enough education to become managers in factories or whatever small businesses managed to prosper here. Most of the time though, they produced teachers and medical staff.

You knew many people in your class had signed up to the military. The UN military paid for four years of tuition at the best military university on Earth, which was actually the only university ranked anywhere good. All it required in return was thirty years of service, minimum. 

Your dad had refused point blank to let you do that, calling it a con. They allowed people to attend university and attain degrees, but they then stagnated in the military for decades on end. And the UN had a terrible habit of extending out service beyond the mandated years until people found that they were retiring. The only real benefit, he often said sarcastically, is that military staff were one of the few people on Earth who actually lived longer than everyone else.

Choosing universities has been stressful for you. You desperately wanted to teach, to educate and enrich the minds of a younger generation and give them the hope that your own parents had instilled in you. Your high levels of intellect had meant that you had been the top of your class every time in all levels of school and you’d studied your ass off after hours to gain extra qualifications and grades.

The standard education system taught maths, physics, biology, chemistry, history, Standard Language, physical education and literature. Literature and history were the only subjects that deviated in terms of topics and those exams were specific to the planets. Most also had an extra subject in whatever language was native to their planet with Standard being taught simply because it was the galaxy wide language that everyone spoke to communicate.

You’d gone further though, desperate to make yourself stand out to universities. No matter how good your grades were on the tests, universities were still allowed to pick and choose who they wanted to attend. Those from better off planets often got the places and those whose parents could afford to encourage universities to look twice found themselves prospering too.

As a student from Earth, the odds were stacked unbelievably against you. The education system just wasn’t as good here, the students couldn’t afford to even leave the planet, never mind pay the fees that an off planet university would require and there was the awful stigma that Earth maintained.

Most students who managed to get a place in university off world had a ridiculously large set of subsidies, scholarships, bursaries and grants that paid for their further education. None of them ever came back to Earth.

You’d studied harder and more. Your grades included not only the basics, but Korean Language, English Language, Spanish Language, advanced maths, astrogeology and astrobiology. They probably wouldn’t be useful for an education degree, but you’d loved them and you’d wanted to stand out from the rest.

Now you were just waiting...hoping desperately that one of the ten universities you’d picked would want you.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart. I’ve raised you for eighteen years now and I know the girl that you’ve always been. Strong, stubborn and determined,” She smiled softly, running her well worn fingers over your cheek. “You’re going to go out there, to the stars and beyond. You’re going to live the life we’ve dreamt for you, the life that your ancestors would have never thought possible. You’re going to be something.”

Eyes tearing up, you take in the deep sincerity and belief that she holds in her voice and face. She believes that you’ll do it, that you’ll make it despite everything that’s stacked against you. It makes you sit a little straighter, shoulders pushing back as you acknowledge what your parents have sacrificed and how far they’ve gotten you.

You have to believe that it was all worth it.

“I can save and move you both out to wherever I go.” You tease lightly, trying to cheer up the mood before poking lightly at her side. She gives a soft laugh and hugs you back, embrace a little tighter and longer than you’d expected.

“I’d like that. And maybe you’ll finally get to see the beauty that the galaxy holds. Maybe you’ll finally see colour.” Her words are gentle and soft, her touch equally as light but you can see the hope once more in her eyes. If there’s one thing that’s always made your mom believe that you were destined for more...it was the fact that you were colourblind.

Most people who knew this about you just thought it was some weird genetic quirk. It was well known that men were mostly colourblind, but not usually to the extent that you were. Your entire world was monochromatic...greyscale at the very best. Part of you didn’t mind, because it meant that you didn’t notice just how bad the polluted landscape of Earth was.

But part of you knew that you were missing out on so much. 

Your mom believed it was a sign when you were younger, alongside your intellect. A sign that you were going to leave Earth. She was a little superstitious, but this was one aspect that you were willing to go along with her.

Because your mom still believed in the theory of soulmates. 

According to the history books, soulmates had been a regular occurrence in pre-spaceflight days. Two people whom fate had determined would be the perfect companions. It had been almost a badge of honour back then, centuries upon centuries ago. People had been desperate to find the one person who would love and accept them as they are with no qualms, no worries and no stress.

The person who fits them best.

There had been so many ways of finding out who your soulmate was back then. From tattoos appearing simultaneously somewhere on the body at the age of eighteen to people born with tattoos, seeking out those who had the same. Or the people who gained a tattoo when they met their soulmate, the painful occurrence signifying that their world had just changed.

Some had the first words they would ever hear their soulmate speak written on them, while others didn’t see colour until their other half was near. Some required to be touched to see colour. 

And those were just the most popular soulmarks as they had been called.

There were ancient stories of other, more rare methods. One in which a soulmate could draw on their wrist and it would appear on the other wrist as well along with so many others. They were all magical and defied belief, which is why they were decreed a sham by most modern day scientists.

No one could figure out how those remarkable events had occurred, and no one had experienced anything like those rare events in the last few centuries. People born with tattoos or who suddenly gained them thought they were strange, but most didn’t bother trying to find their soulmate because most didn’t even really know the stories anymore.

Finding your soulmate on Earth had been hard back then, finding your soulmate now that humanity had spread itself across the galaxy was nigh impossible. Most other planets had apparently forgotten all about soulmates, the tales simply one of the myths that were spoken about much in the same way that the ancient stories of old Earth gods and goddesses were.

Those born and raised on Earth were more likely to believe though. It was a part of your planet's culture and history, strong and proud. One of the few parts people were proud of. You’d even heard of people actually finding their soulmates, living happily even in the poor environment they lived in.

Your mom was convinced that your color blindness was a soulmark, and that your soulmate was waiting for you out there. She refused to acknowledge that they could be here, on Earth. No, to her it was a sign. A sign that you would venture far beyond and find happiness she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

And she believed so strongly, that you did too. You hoped desperately that you would be able to leave this planet and that one day, you would see the bright and vibrant colours that brought the galaxy to life. That you would meet someone who made your heart sing and your soul vibrate with joy.

Those in your class had laughed at you for the very notion of it, thinking you were being an idiot and setting yourself up for a fail. You just had a medical condition or something, that was all. But you believed in more, you had to believe in more. You couldn’t let your mom and dad down.

“I’d like that. I could tell you all the amazing colours that are out there. There’s even supposed to be colours that we don’t even here on Earth. Though I guess that doesn’t matter to me, does it?” Chuckling, you smile at her before shrugging lightly. She responded with her own smile, skin wrinkling at the corners with affection for you.

A sudden ping from your PED, personal electronic device, caused you both to jerk slightly in surprise. Glancing down at it, your eyes widened as your finger tapped the slim black tube. The familiar holographic screen of your PED came to life before you, glowing white in your vision.

Apparently it was supposed to be what was termed neon blue, but to you it was just like white. Much like any lighting did, no matter the colour. The various apps on your PED were closed at the moment, leaving just the background of the Pegasus cluster and the outlines of the few apps you considered important enough to keep on screen at all times.

One of them was your messaging app, which currently had a little ‘1’ in a tiny circle at the top right. You had one message, one new notification.

Looking over at your mom, your eyes widen as you lift up your PED so she can see better. Chewing on your lip, you press the app and watch as it opens up immediately. The list of messages from your parents, classmates and teachers filled up the screen and you quickly shifted from personal messages to mail.

Your inbox was full of scholarship and bursary applications to various governmental bodies along with newsletters to the random sites that you frequented often. But the newest message, the text bright and bold against the rest attracted your attention.

Clicking on it, you felt yourself go cold as you read it over slowly.

To: Y/N-Y/L/N@excelsioracademy.earth

From: results@eartheducationboard.earth

Title: University Entrance Examination Results

Y/N Y/LN,

Thank you for participating in the 3121 University Entrance Examinations at Excelsior Academy in Busan, Old Korea, Earth. We appreciate the time and effort that you took in not only studying but taking part in the examinations.

Please see your results from the Standard Education examinations below. 

Mathematics: 97/100

Standard Language: 89/100

Physics: 91/100

Biology: 90/100

Chemistry: 91/100

History: 100/100

Physical Education: 85/100

Literature: 95/100

Any extra examinations that you have undertaken outside of the Standard Education will be listed below.

Korean Language: 98/100

English Language: 97/100

Spanish Language: 92/100

Advanced Mathematics: 94/100

Astrogeology: 91/100

Astrobiology: 85/100

We hope that these exam results meet the level you had expected. The universities that you applied to have been in receipt of these grades for the last seven days. Please see below to see which universities, if any, have accepted you onto your chosen course of: Education.

New Seoul University, New Korea

If you have been accepted by any universities, please note that they will be in communication with you separately in regards to your course.

Kind Regards,

Earth Education Board

You sit with wide eyes, neither your mom nor you quite comprehending what you’re reading as you flick back to the top and read again. Before you can even make it to the bottom once more though, another noise indicates you have another notification and you click out in a daze, accepting the second mail that has been sent to you.

To: Y/N-Y/L/N@excelsioracademy.earth

From: admissions@newseouluniversity.edu.newkorea

Title: Welcome To New Seoul University!

Welcome Y/N Y/L/N!

We’re delighted to accept you into the below degree course here at New Seoul University for the 3121 intake of students:

Bachelor of Schooling Education

This is a four year course that will see you studying with some of the top professors across a range of subjects at one of the top ranked university institutions in the galaxy. We hope that you’re excited to start your new education here!

As a student of Earth, please note that you have been granted the below scholarships and grants in order to pay for your tuition, academic fees and accommodation fees. If you require any more help then please respond and we would be more than willing to help!

United Nations of Earth Travel Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will cover the transport costs from Earth to New Korea.

United Nations of Earth Education Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will provide you with money to pay for any academic items you may need alongside any extra academic fees.

New Seoul University Education Scholarship

Due to your high grades, you have been granted a scholarship from the Education department to cover any field trips or placements you will need to partake in as part of your degree.

New Seoul University Equality Scholarship

Due to the circumstances of your monetary background, you have been granted a scholarship that will cover the tuition fees for your degree. You have also been granted a scholarship that will pay for your accommodation here in New Seoul to allow you to study.

We hope that you look forward to studying here. We look forward to meeting you!

If you have any more questions, please let us know. We have provided relevant literature to your degree and the university to allow you to research where you will soon be living more! Included in this pack is an accommodation application, please fill this in along with the New Student form and send it back as soon as possible.

We will be in touch soon!

Kind Regards,

Kim Namjoon

Admissions

New Seoul University

“You did it! Oh my god, you did it! HONEY! OUR BABY GIRL GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!” Your mom starts screaming, tears falling down her face as she jumps around the dilapidated room in joy. Watching her with numb hands, you realise that you’re crying too when you feel the wet streaks down your chin.

Your father comes out of their bedroom, which also doubled as his makeshift office, and looks with confusion between your mom and you. Seeing the tears, he moves over to you, prosthetic legs creaking as he sits down and reads the messages that you hand to him.

Once done, he looks back up at you with eyes that glisten, emotion that you can’t even begin to understand welling deep within him. At seeing your dad’s overwhelming emotion, you finally let out a sob of joint happiness and shock, throwing your arms around his shoulders and crying into him as it all finally hits you.

You did it. You passed the entrance exams. You passed the entrance exams and got into university. A university off planet! One of the best universities in the galaxy at that! You were going to escape Earth, you were going to have a better life.

“I did it!” You whisper, pulling your mom into the hug as she kneels down in front of you both. It’s all you can say, all any of you can see as you celebrate this monumental achievement.

Less than 500 students out of the 5 million who take the university exams get into off world planets. Less than 100 get into prestigious universities.

You managed to be one of those lucky hundred, all thanks to your parents perseverance and belief. Hugging them even tighter, you press kisses to their faces as you all start to laugh while crying, the pure happiness infectious between you all.

You were going to make them proud. You were going to do everything they ever wanted for you and you vowed then and there, with your arms around them, that you would get them off this god forsaken planet.

It was unlikely that you could give them the life they deserve with what they had left, but you would at least let them live out their end years in peace and happiness somewhere better. 

And maybe, just maybe...you might find a way to see colour along the way.

Looking out the window, you bite your lip as you watched another starship take off, heading for planets unknown thousands of lightyears away. That was going to be you soon, heading off a planet you’d only ever really heard about. 

Maybe your soulmate was waiting for you there. 

Either way...you couldn’t wait.

-

The first few days of being in New Seoul are overwhelming to say the least. You’d spent hours researching the campus and city extensively, scanning over the history and images that were available to you. Admittedly, they all just looked pretty similar given you could only see in grayscale but it looked nice.

The reality was something else entirely though. Towering skyscrapers reached towards the sky like the fingers of a hand in Busan, trying to scrape their way to freedom in space. That combined with the scent of garbage, sewage, the sludge from the ocean and the fumes of exhausts that didn’t quite comply with what should have been the environmental standard.

And all of that competed with the abundance of neon signage that screamed out at passersby, demanding attention from all corners. Busan was busy, overcrowded and dirty but it shouted what it had to offer as loudly as it could. Not that what it did offer was any good.

New Seoul was...similar and yet completely different. The skyscrapers here didn’t stretch as far as possible into the skies, in fact the capital city of New Korea apparently had a building limit of 50 stories. It boggled your mind when you looked around the streets, each one astonishingly wide and lined with an abundance of native trees.

Grass, real grass and not even that fake crap that had been trodden into the dirt over decades, blew ever so gently in the breeze and you had no doubt that it would be a rich and luscious green if you could see it. But nothing really compared to the magnificent sight above your head.

To you, the sky simply looked like a shade of grey. But it was a shade you had never seen on the vast expanse before, occasionally dotted with white clouds with darker grey embedded within them. You’d never seen the sky itself though. Busan kept a perpetual haze in the upper limits, a blanket of thick and suffocating pollution and smog that made the sky as grey for everyone else as it did for you.

Even though you couldn’t see the colours of the sky here, you knew that New Seoul was more beautiful than Busan could have ever hoped to be. 

And there was more. The motor vehicles here were energy efficient, powered by solar via the panels that were embedded into the body, only a slight hum emanated purely to make sure that they could be heard by any pedestrians walking around. The streets were impossibly clean, hygiene robots patrolling regularly and cleaning along with hoovering up any rubbish that may be dropped.

It was also so...sparse in population compared to what you were used to. People here often lived on their own in a whole apartment. You had a room to yourself with a little kitchen in it and everything. You’d seen less people here in a few days than you had in two minutes outside in Busan. 

Overwhelming, yes. That was the right word for it.

And then of course, there was the sheer abundance of fresh and delicious food available. You’d eaten fresh, real tuna the other day in a sandwich made with bread that had been baked that morning. It had boggled your mind how delightful it tasted, only cementing how terrible the fake food that was served on Earth was.

Milkshakes were also a revelation, the vanilla taste so rich and indulgent with a wonderfully smooth texture that just slid down your throat. You’d spent a good two hours in a café on the first day, amazed at the world as you watched it pass by outside the window. 

New Seoul had the neon signs still, they were almost a tradition of big cities in the galaxy at this point, but they were almost tasteful now. Advertising clothes or virt-real arcades where children and teenagers flocked. Restaurants used them to announce their menu of the day and so much more. It was beautiful here, elegant almost.

The people walking around New Seoul even looked different to back in Busan. They looked healthy and strong here, happy and full of life and hope. Everyone was a little taller here too, a side effect of the planet having less gravity than Earth. It had been a little awkward for you at first, feeling ever so slightly weightless. 

You were stronger than people born and raised here too. That had been something you’d known objectively but forgotten until you’d accidentally launched an empty cup into the recycling. A few odd stares had occurred but no one said anything. People were generally used to the differences in strength and ability, but it was still amusing to see sometimes.

A slightly more negative discovery had been that your years of studying the Korean language had apparently been in vain. It was your mother tongue, the native language of Busan and therefore the mother tongue of New Korea as well. You’d only naturally thought that it would be useful to continue on your studies of the language past the basic lessons in your early childhood.

As such, you’d never considered there’d be anything wrong. But you’d forgotten that New Korea was founded over 700 years ago and the vast majority of the population today had emigrated at some point over the past few centuries. The socio-economic situation on Earth meant that immigration from Old Korea had been a trickle, one that had often run dry.

With that lack of interaction over the centuries...the Korean language spoken here had become almost unintelligible to you. They used words you’d never even heard of and even some of the grammar had shifted. What should have been a warm and easy welcome had become fraught with difficulty as you struggled to understand the silken tones and dancing syllables they used.

Your own Korean, slightly more standardised in the 32nd century than what it had once been, was equally as confusing to them. They could understand you to a degree, but it was like you were speaking some bizarre dialect with odd formalities. And apparently, your dialect was considered to be rough and grating.

Despite the pain at realising you would struggle with that, you had the reassuring balm that New Seoul taught in Standard. But you were a smart person, you would enlist in Korean lessons here and learn this language that was the same but entirely different. 

Biting your lip, you looked out over the large classroom and inhaled deeply. It smelt clean, the slightest hint of vanilla in the air from the scent diffusers installed into the air units while the seats were currently folded up, soft memory foam in black waiting for students to sit in them.

Hesitantly, you head over to one of the centre rows and sit down. The chair is possibly the comfiest thing you’ve ever sat in, and you’re positive it cost more than anything in your old bedroom. It kind of annoyed you to think that, but you pushed the thought away quickly. You were here now. You were going to make something of your life.

Pulling out your PED, you extended it out and turned on the screen, watching the holoscreen come to life in front of you. A quick tap had a keyboard appearing on the desk in front of you and you navigated through to the relevant class information on the university intranet. 

“Err...is it okay if I sit here?” A deep voice asks beside you, his accent oddly lyrical as he spoke Standard to you. Glancing up, you see a guy standing next to you. He’s ridiculously attractive with hair that you presume to be black looking all ruffled on his head. His eyes are kind though while his smile is nervous.

Nodding, you gesture to the seat and smile back at him as he sits down. 

He sets up his own desk before looking at you, pausing for a moment before obviously taking the plunge and leaning forward. “Are you from here too? Or are you an off planet?”

“Oh, I’m off planet. I’m...err...well I’m from Earth. Old Korea actually. You? I’m Y/N by the way.” His eyes widen at your words and you see him do a quick scan of your body, not even caring that you could blatantly see him doing it. You must pass some internal test before he shrugs, settling back in his seat.

“Taehyung. I’m from Alexandros. I get the feeling we’re both going to suffer a bit of a cultural learning curve.” Snorting, you roll your eyes and nod at that. Already you feel comfortable and at home with him, even though you’ve barely spoken. Something about him is exceptionally friendly and nice.

Despite him not explaining, you know why he said it. Alexandros is a planet with a reputation, much like Earth. Only his planet’s reputation is a little more...hedonistic in nature. Sex of all kinds wasn’t illegal on there, even the kinds that you personally thought should be illegal.

Marriage didn’t exist and polyamory was the norm. Most people had multiple partners which resulted in multiple children. You didn’t know the in’s and out’s of it, but it was basically the planet you went to if you just wanted a good time. It held the title of the best wine and beer made in the galaxy along with a surprisingly good restaurant scene according to the information pages about them.

New Korea...was not as free as Alexandros and you felt that you and Taehyung were certainly going to have to learn what was acceptable and what wasn’t here. Just getting used to the fact that this place had actual laws that mattered, like not walking across the road anywhere other than at specified crossing areas.

“Yeah...we’re gonna have a bit of a tough time huh? I even discovered that not only is Earth considered backwards to everyone else, we really are because I can’t even understand their Korean.” He laughs at that, his smile box like and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Shit...that must suck. At least you can speak Standard though. So like, feel free to tell me to fuck off if it offends you but...does Earth really suck as bad as everyone says? I’ve never met anyone from there.” Taehyung is inquisitive, a tiny frown of interest on his face and you let out a small sigh.

“It really is. Let’s just say...well this is the first time I’ve ever seen the sky. Like...without pollution and stuff. And trees. I’ve never seen a real tree. It’s all very...I tried tuna! And real beef! Oh my, it was amazing. You don’t understand what luxury the galaxy has without even realising it!” The wonder in your voice and excitement that resonates causing Taehyung to grin even bigger.

“I’ve...never considered it before to be honest. I mean, I’ve never had tuna. It’s not a common food on Alexandros but I have had other seafood if that counts? I’m interested in trying the beef here, apparently they have some ancient way of cooking it?” Nodding, you open up a new screen on your PED and quickly type into the search.

“Yes, it’s a traditional Korean barbecue, they cook it on the table for you. Or rather you cook it. We actually do still have this back home but it doesn’t really taste nice because they don’t even bother washing the grills anymore so it’s covered in black crap. And the meat is just...artificial crap. I’m excited to try it here though, I bet they use real sauce too.” 

You don’t see the way Taehyung looks at you in pure wonderment, completely bemused by how excited you’re getting over something as simple as real meat and sauce. Pausing, you glance over and lower your head in embarrassment which immediately gets him shaking his head with a smile.

“Hey don’t get upset, I want to try it too. We should go, you seem to know what would be good. This is me trying to make friends by the way. I feel we could both use with at least one friend here, right?” You eyed him in astonishment, surprised that he was this bold and forward. No one cared about others back on Earth, they certainly didn’t embrace friendliness this quickly.

“Are you always this forward?”

Taehyung nods enthusiastically, his hair flying everywhere as he does so and you can’t help but laugh at him. “Oh yeah. It’s an Alexandros trait but my mom’s and dad’s always said I was the most outgoing out of my siblings. It’s why they paid for my tuition and everything to come here. They felt I’d make a good teacher!”

Humming quietly, you wonder whether to be as forward with him as he’d been with you. Eyeing him for a second, you decide to go for it. He can’t get upset when he just asked something that could have been hurtful to you.

“So it’s really true about Alexandros? Multiple partners and stuff?” To his credit, Taehyung doesn’t even look slightly bothered about your question. He’s busy opening up the class documents on his own PED, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

“Oh yeah. I’ve had a lot of dad’s and mom’s and parents who didn’t identify as either gender. Some of them are still around, some have moved on to other places. At last count, I’ve had eight dad’s, six mom’s and two non-binary parents. I believe I have,” He pauses, looking up and doing some quick calculations. “Twenty two brothers and sixteen sisters. It all started because our planet wasn’t the most hospitable at the start and so they had to have more kids to be able to actually have a normal amount survive. Now everyone just likes sex and big families. It’s cool.”

You’re positive that your eyes are wide, but it’s just a completely foreign idea to you. Earth actively encouraged small families, trying to desperately reduce the rampant overpopulation. You’d never met anyone with a sibling. Nevermind thirty eight siblings!

“That’s...wow. I’m not being like...rude or anything. The idea of that on Earth is...horrifying actually. That’s how to end up in absolute poverty on the streets. It must be nice though, having such a big family around you.” He hums, lips twisting while his hand shakes slightly.

“Yes and no. It’s fun and you always have support but the fights aren’t fun, let me tell you that.” Smiling at him, you turn your head as the professor enters from the door at the bottom of the room.

“Well Taehyung...how about you tell me all about it over some barbecue later?” With an even bigger smile, he shakes your hand and nods his head in acceptance.

-

4 Years Later

Over the last four years at New Seoul University, you’ve learnt many things about not only the world outside of Earth but about yourself. You’d learnt that you were not as smart as you’d originally thought you were, but you’d come to terms with that and even enjoyed no longer being the shining example in class.

You’d learnt to no longer worry and stress about your future, instead choosing to live in the moment. This was something that people on Earth simply wouldn’t really understand, because they had no real future. But you had the galaxy in your hands now, and after you finished your final year of your degree then you’d be able to venture out into the world.

You’d learnt that the universe really did consider Earth a backwater dump, one to which you couldn’t even really argue about. But the rest of the galaxy wasn’t all roses either. Niflheim, so named after the Ancient Norse world of fog, mist and darkness, was a planet that was probably even more harsh to live on than Earth. A planet of near perpetual storms of ice, most of the inhabitants had to survive underneath specially built domes that protected the buildings that led to the mineshafts deep in the astonishingly large mountains.

Despite it’s unforgiving nature, Niflheim was popular to work in because of the Helite its small towns mined, a material that was incredibly hard yet surprisingly flexible. It had a high resale value, making the tough world hard to live in but valuable to those who roughed it out.

You’d learnt to explore yourself as well, enjoying your life for once instead of pushing yourself hard to succeed academically to the point you had no life. Taehyung had helped here, decreeing that it simply wasn’t acceptable that you kept shutting yourself in your dorm room and doing all of your homework way in advance of the deadlines.

As he pointed out, life was for living...not punishing yourself.

So you kept up your high grades to maintain your scholarships, but you lived a little more freely too. You’d shyly dated a few people here and there, sad that none of them brought beautiful to your world, and learnt many new things about yourself.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t a fan of casual sex but you’d also discovered that you hated beer but enjoyed wine. Alcohol was far too expensive on Earth so most people made their own version which could be bought cheap. But it also came with a far higher mortality rate because you never knew what was going into it.

But you enjoyed it here, understood why people thought wine was more ‘sophisticated’ and had become quite accustomed to a glass at night. Another benefit to being friends, or more correctly best friends now, with one Kim Taehyung was that he had a much more lax view about sex than anyone else around here. And that was saying something compared to you.

Which meant that instead of casual sex, you’d been friends with benefits with him for well over a year. To him, it was purely sex and he didn’t mind giving it to you even if he was dating because of the culture he’d grown up in. He made it clear with his partners that he was free to date others and have sex with others too. But you’d mostly kept to him, not really enjoying putting yourself out there for anyone else in a while.

This was the start of your fourth, and final year at university. And you still see in black and white and all the shades of grey in between. It made your heart hurt and sometimes, at night in your shared apartment when you were a little tipsy, you lamented to Taehyung that maybe you’d never see colour.

Given the planet he came from and it’s views on sex, dating and all of that, it was perhaps unsurprising that Taehyung viewed the idea of soulmates with more than a little skepticism. In fact, you were positive he thought it was all just a bunch of shit but was being too polite and nice to tell you otherwise.

Not when he could see how much the belief that there was someone out there meant to you; someone who would love you unconditionally and who you would adore in turn, someone who would bring colour and joy to your world.

He’d acknowledged that you were in fact colour blind, many times accidentally asking you for colour advice on outfits or hair before hitting his head in realisation when you stared at him blankly. But he probably just thought it was some medical condition caused by being raised on Earth.

Soulmates didn’t really gel with the Alexandros philosophy on relationships. You didn’t complain too much to him, even though you knew of stories where people had multiple soulmates back in the old times. A lot of people today who heard about soulmates thought they were always, ironically, black and white in terms of who was bonded together.

A man and a woman, but that was wrong. Fate brought together the two souls who complemented each other the most. Men and women, yes, but also two women, two men, those who don't identify as either and so much more. Fate didn’t care about humanity’s ideas of sexuality or gender...it just cared about finding two people who would be perfect for each other.

But most people didn’t believe it anyway, so you didn’t see any point in trying to educate them. Not when they obviously had no visible reason to believe in it. 

You did though. The café that you stared out at right now told you that there was someone for you, because there was no way you’d been born this colour blind and had such a desperate urge to leave your planet and come here otherwise. They were here, you were sure of it. 

It’s just that there were over 2 billion people on this planet, so your chances were slim.

“Is there a particular reason you’ve been drying that cup for five minutes now?” The deep voice of Taehyung causes you to jump slightly, jerked out of your thoughts abruptly. Turning to look at him, you see his ever smiling face watching you intently as he leans his hip against the sink.

“Sorry...I just...new year and all that. Just...thinking.” You can’t even find a reason for him, instead just shrugging and placing the cup down before grabbing another and beginning to dry it. Glancing out over the café that you both work in, just one of the many that dot the city of New Seoul.

If there’s one thing that both old and new Korea have in common, it’s their avid love of coffee. The only difference between the two is that real coffee and milk is actually used here and not fake stuff. You could personally attest that it made all the difference to have the real stuff, it was far more flavourful and creamy.

This café is one that’s just on the outskirts of the university, meaning that it was frequented by students at all times of the day. From noon to midnight and even at 4am, there would be at least one student in its warm and fragrant walls.

You liked working here, even if it added to your stress by giving you even less time in the day for yourself but it also helped to give you an extra money flow. The scholarships and grants were great, but you needed more money to save away for when you’d finished uni.

New Korea thankfully gave automatic citizenship to anyone from Old Korea due to the historical relations between the two and you would be accepting that as soon as you’d finished uni. You would admit that perhaps you were trying to game the system by waiting until you had a degree in your hand as accepting citizenship now would mean losing the money from the United Nations Government.

Taehyung said you were being smart, but you felt like you were being selfish. But at the same time, you almost felt like Earth owes you it at least. You would be the best kind of PR for the planet, born on the ancient homeworld of humanity and dragged yourself out of it through sheer willpower and smarts.

So you worked at the café to help yourself out, letting you put away half your wages into a savings account that you would use to put down a deposit for an apartment when you finish school. The other half went to just actually enjoying life.

“All your classes are sorted right? You’re in the same Children’s Cognitive Development class as me right? With Dr Oh?” Your best friend asks, reaching past you for a cup before heading over to the coffee machine. The selling point of this café is that it uses traditional methods to make its coffee, which means the machines here are just modern versions of those that were used over a thousand years ago. 

Apparently it made the best tasting coffee, despite all the advancements of technology since.

You would agree to be honest. It wasn’t quick but that almost seemed to make it taste better.

“Yeah, I’ve got that and then I’ve also taken Interplanetary Children’s Education, The Psychology of Childhood and Teaching Special Needs.” The cups are all dry now and you begin stacking them back up in their relevant area, making sure that the café logo is facing forwards as you’d been taught long ago.

“Damn, big schedule. You’ve got the dissertation to do, you need to remember that too.” Tae points out, grabbing the carton of milk out of the refrigeration unit and adding it into the drink he’s making. Nodding, you give him a quick smile.

“I know. I’ve already decided on my topic, it’s basically going to be about how the education system is meant to be set up to be applicable to all children across all planets but it still benefits those who are better off than those in poverty.” Glancing over at you, Taehyung puts the cup and saucer onto the small tray before reaching into the counter, cutting off a piece of luxurious strawberry and cream cake before carefully placing that on the tray too.

“I wonder why the girl from Earth has chosen that topic?” He muses with a smile, brow rising at you and you just give him another innocent shrug. Your teacher had thought that same thing when you proposed it, but he’d supported you in your topic anyway.

“Can you take this out? Table 12.” He says, nodding out into the area and you smile before acknowledging his request. Brushing your hands down your black apron, you look out and your eyes widen as you see who’s sat at the table, PED glowing in front of him as a small frown knots his brow together.

“Jung Hoseok? Are you kidding?” That Tae laughing quietly, looking over before giving you a conspiratorial grin. He knows full well about your little crush on one of the most eligible bachelors on New Korea. 

Everyone knew who Jung Hoseok was, his family had been one of the first to emigrate to New Korea and had been instrumental in the founding of New Seoul. His family was astonishingly rich and well cultured, his genealogy being traced back not only centuries but centuries before humanity left Earth.

That alone made him one of the most eligible bachelors. Everyone wanted to be rich, and bagging one of the founding families was certainly the way to ensure you were rich and someone who mattered. You knew that Hoseok’s father was a Congressman in the government of New Korea, involved in regulating laws, business and more for the whole planet.

His mother was heavily involved in the education system itself. Despite that, Hoseok had got into university on his own merit. Despite your dissertation subject, the university exams were all done anonymously. So he’d gotten here by his own brain and not by the money his parents had.

Another reason he was incredibly popular and wanted though, was because he was so damn attractive. A straight slope of a nose ended in the slightest curve upwards, combining with the sharp cut of his jaw to give him one of the most astonishing side profiles ever. Soft cheeks were dotted with sweet dimples that showed when he was happy, frustrated or thinking.

Long and elegant fingers had apparently grown up playing the piano while his eyes were pools of friendliness and warmth. Jung Hoseok was well known for being exceptionally polite and friendly, one of the most affable people in the whole university. He had no real enemies and tried hard to stay on the good side of everyone.

And he did, because he was just so damn...nice.

He was astonishingly beautiful, his black hair a little fluffy and mussed together with no styling in it. You didn’t know what colour his clothes were today, all you knew was that it looked like his jeans were dark and his shirt was white. Taehyung had confirmed his hair colour long ago to you and you could only imagine how astonishing he looked in colour.

In monochrome, he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

You were best friends with Taehyung too, so that was high praise.

And Taehyung knew all about your little crush on the important, influential, beautiful and friendly heir. You’d never even spoken to the man before, simply simpered over him from behind the counter whenever he was here. 

You’d never encountered someone who had lit up your thoughts and captured your dreams quite like him. He made your stomach feel a little funny when he was here, like there were little birds flying around inside that were trying to make their way out.

But now you had to go out there and talk to him. And give him what he’d ordered. He probably wouldn’t even notice you. Hoseok was two years older than you, in his final year of a business management master’s degree and you were positive he was going to go into some area of his family business once done.

As such, your paths had never had any reason to cross outside out of the café, so he probably hadn’t even noticed you existed. Most people didn’t really pay attention to the staff in places, even here in New Seoul where everyone was meant to be a little more ‘cultured’.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly brush over the flyaway hairs on your face and brush away imaginary dirt from your apron once more before grasping the tray. It shakes only a little bit, and part of you wonders why you’re so bothered about him. You’d never been this bothered about anyone even when you’d been dating them.

Heading out, you see Taehyung give you a thumbs up with a cheesy smile as he accepts a new order from the terminal that a customer has sent through from the holo menus in the tables. He’s distracted immediately and you’re left on your own, walking over to Hoseok.

Smiling politely with your best customer service face, you place the ceramic saucer on the table before carefully placing the matching cup on top. The familiar clink that occurs when they meet each other is lost in the overall noise that crowds the café. Glancing down, you add the piece of strawberry and cream cake that he’d ordered as well before placing the dainty silver fork next to it.

“Here’s your drink and food sir, I hope you find it enjoyable.” You say politely, tipping your head in a slight bow as you hold the tray against your waist, pressing against the apron that makes up part of the uniform you had to wear here. This had been part of the training that you’d had to actively learn when compared to the others who worked here and had grown up on New Korea.

Taehyung had had to learn to incorporate cultural differences into his daily and work life as well, so at least you hadn’t been on your own there. Customer’s were treated like mini deities here, and while it was pleasing when you were on the receiving end, it wasn’t entirely nice when you were on the other end. Most customers were equally nice but some, as expected, were not. Those were the ones who tried to take advantage of staff.

You hated dealing with those.

But you knew Hoseok wouldn’t be like that. He’d never raised his voice to any member of staff here at the café before, in fact you’d never heard of him shouting or being mean to anyone. You wish you could that was because of his upper class upbringing here on New Seoul, but usually those people ended up being the ones who had the worst manners.

Not Hoseok though. Jung Hoseok was always exceptionally polite and friendly to everyone. Part of the charm that made him idolised by those at New Seoul University while also making him a prime bachelor for the many single women and men here. If you had to make a list of the top ten most eligible men in New Seoul University, Hoseok would probably be in the top three.

Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin would be battling it out for the other places no doubt.

You turn once he’s acknowledged you with a small smile and a quick thanks, his voice deeper and quieter than you expected, shifting your tray in your hands as you look back over to the counter to check if Taehyung’s okay or if you’re okay to collect the leftover cups and plates on the empty tables. 

A sudden warm weight on your wrist jerks you to a halt, surprising you because you weren’t expecting Hoseok to interact with you anymore. Brows raising, you turn back to Hoseok as you hear him begin to speak.

“Excuse me, miss-” He pauses though and you frown, wondering why until you look directly into his eyes once more. They’re a colour that you’ve never seen before, which causes you to pause in surprise, leaning back slightly.

Hoseok is staring at you with equally wide eyes that flick over your face, brow creasing ever so slightly while his mouth remains open. For a few seconds, it seems like the world outside of you both has paused and there is only Hoseok and you.

Brown. That must be the colour. You’d overheard girls on occasion gushing over Hoseok’s rich brown eyes. At the time, you’d shrugged off the comment without a second thought. Life without colour had become familiar to you, so you couldn’t miss what you’d never had.

But now, now that you can see the beautiful colours slowly bleeding to life as you look him over. His skin is more vibrant in colour, his sweater an odd shade darker than white actually that you can’t quite figure out. Jeans remain black while his equally black boots remain on his feet, matching the dark and luscious locks on his head.

Even there though, you can see hints of brown shining through their strands, blending together in a beautiful colour. Looking away from him, you see colour everywhere suddenly. Green, the colour of the grass outside that had always just looked pale to you. 

Hoseok’s hand tightens on your wrist and you look back at him, ignorant of everything else once more. Confusion is written all over his face and you get the sudden sense that he’s probably extremely overwhelmed with what’s happening right now.

“What just happened?” He whispers, confirming your suspicions. But he sounds so lost and meek, almost afraid that your heart clenched tightly with the need to console him. Uncaring whether your manager or colleagues get annoyed, you sit opposite him at the small table, the cup of coffee still steaming between you both.

His hand is still on your wrist, warm and solid.

“Are you seeing colours right now? Like...real colours?” You ask softly, leaning forward and keeping your voice low. Part of you wants to look around and take everything in, but the abundance of sheer...variety of colour that the world has makes your brain hurt a little, unable to take everything in.

It’s even worse given that you don’t even know what some of these colours are, your mind grasping for answers it simply doesn’t know.

Hoseok looks much the same, squinting his eyes slightly and you marvel at the fact that even light itself appears to have a colour. 

“How do you know that? What just happened?” Hoseok asks insistently, moving forward to shorten the distance between yourself and him. You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re going to say next to him will make no sense. New Korea is a planet that stopped believing in soulmates long ago, the concept dying quickly as those with the knowledge passed away.

Anyone who finds their soulmate now does it by accident, so there’s no wonder Hoseok has no idea what’s going on. He probably just thought he’s always been colourblind because of some medical reason no one can figure out.

Just like you.

“I...okay, this is going to sound very strange and silly. But...have you heard of soulmates?” He tilts his head, eyes still blank at the word before shrugging slightly, lips pursing.

“In films I think. Maybe a book or two. Aren’t they just myths?” You shake your head slowly, taking a deep breath to stabilise yourself and your feelings before letting it out just as slow. It doesn’t really work, but you try to pretend that it did.

“Soulmates aren’t myths. They’re real. And...well...I don’t know how to say this to you without weirding you out but...I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate. And I’m yours.” 

Hoseok just stares at you, face completely expressionless. For a moment, you think he’s going to laugh at you loudly and walk off, resolving to never come to this café again because of the strange Earthen girl babbling about soulmates and stuff. But instead, he releases your wrist and sits back against his chair with a soft ‘oof’, eyes widening.

“What?”

-

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s an odd tension between you and the man you fully believe to be your soulmates as you walk quietly through the nearby park. He hasn’t said a word since leaving the café and the bubbling in gut is a mix of excitement that you’d finally found him and worry that he wouldn’t believe you.

That he’d turn and walk away.

It had been ten minutes since you’d quickly rushed back to Taehyung behind the counter, begging him to cover the rest of your shift even though he was due to finish. Understandably, he’d been more than a little confused and surprised.

The half counter door swings shut behind you silently, the only sign it had been opened was the gentle swaying as it settles back into its usual place. Taehyung is currently adding the cherry syrup onto the whipped cream in the hot chocolate he’d made for a waiting customer, his face scrunched as he concentrated on the task at hand.

Chaeyoung is currently pulling the freshly baked goods out of the auto oven, placing the tray on the side to let them cool down for a bit before adding them onto the shelves in the counter for people to choose something to snack on. She hasn’t noticed your rushed appearance though, only her vibrant blue hair visible as she hums quietly to the gentle music piping through the hidden speakers in the café.

Once Tae had finished his latte and placed it on the counter to be collected, you grabbed his arm tightly and tugged him towards the back. He looked at you with confusion, dark brows tighty knitted together in concern at whatever expression you had on your face.

“Tae...I need you to cover my shift. Please, please say yes!” You beg him, letting go of his arm to clasp your hands together while you made your eyes go as wide as possible, pleading with him desperately to get him to agree.

“What? Why? I finish in ten minutes? You don’t finish for another two hours!” He begins to complain, the corners of his lips already turning down in a pout that would tug at your heartstrings.

But you can’t give in to him this time. Not now.

Glancing back outside at the café, you’re relieved to see that Hoseok is still sitting at his table. His own expression is a carefully blank one, the lower half of his face hidden as he drinks deeply from the cup you’d placed in front of him only minutes earlier.

“I found him. I found him Tae.” Taehyung’s expression slips into its own version of Hoseok’s, face not giving away anything as he obviously doesn’t understand what you’re on about.

“My soulmate! It’s Hoseok.” That gets an incredulous look, Taehyung’s eyebrows rising high on his forehead until they’re disappearing beneath his ruffled hair. They soon begin to track down though as disbelief fills him and he leans back, looking out of the door himself at the man in question.

“Jung Hoseok...is your soulmate...right. Okay.” You can tell he’s trying really hard not to put down your hopes here. He’s never believed in soulmates and despite the stories you’ve told him over the years, he’s remained firm in the belief that they’re just old wives tales from a planet that’s been dying for centuries now.

A small piece of hope for people who don’t have any.

But you still believed. And now you’d been proven right.

Glancing around the items stored on various shelves in the back room, you suddenly point towards a box of fresh coffee beans. “That’s green. And...and your hair is blue! Like the sky outside. That cup is...red and that box is brown.”

Taehyung follows your gestures, suspicion deep within them at first before slowly his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Holy shit. You can see colour now? What colour is this?” He asks loudly, pulling out another box from one of the shelves and holding it up. You can’t even begin to describe the colour, your brow creasing in a frown as you try to find a reference for what it could be.

“...light red?” Taehyung laughs loudly.

“Kind of. Pink. It’s pink. Actually it’s more of a fuchsia which is like...a pink mixed with a purple. Which you also don’t know so I should shut up. But anyway...how did that happen?” Chewing your lip, you shrug lightly.

“I don’t know. I mean...well...Hoseok touched my wrist to get my attention and then suddenly...it was like the world filled in. And he had the same expression, looking around everywhere. So I asked him if he can see colour now and he asked how I knew that. He...I...I mean...if he couldn’t see colour either until he touched me? You know I’ve liked him for ages too!” You’re not entirely sure why you’re almost begging him to believe you, but you need someone to accept you’re not just talking bullshit.

“Damn...yeah. Okay...I’ll bite then. Yeah, I’ll cover your shift. Go talk to him or whatever it is soulmates do. If it really is soulmates. Holy shit. Y/N, you do realise that’s Jung mother-fucking Hoseok out there? Not just some regular college guy?” Pointing out the door, he looks at you with deep concern and you feel warmth blossom inside at his protectiveness over you.

You know what he’s talking about. Of all the people in the universe, it had to be him.

“I know. I know...I just...well we’ll talk to each other and...see what happens I guess?”

What happens is apparently a lot of silence. You’re not sure if this is just Hoseok’s general nature, if he’s angry or if he’s just in shock. What you’ve seen and heard of him over the years indicates that he’s not particularly a generally quiet person.

Sure, he has his moments. But mostly he’s pretty loud when with people he likes and almost abnormally friendly. Not right now though. Right now he’s the quietest you’ve ever seen him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans while his boots are silent on the ground. They’re obviously high end with in-built silencing fabric. You don’t even want to imagine the cost.

His bag is now slung over his shoulder, the contents of which you don’t know. Bags aren’t exactly the most common thing in today’s society, nearly everything could be done either on a PED or the small biochip that was implanted into everyone’s wrist. A combination ID card, bank card and more.

Finally though, he stops at an old-fashioned wooden bench with ornate metal woven between it. It’s been coated in weather-resistant paint, the black colour still as vibrant and shiny as the day it had been originally painted on.

For a moment, you simply stare at that and find yourself speaking without even thinking.

“Wow, even black looks different in colour.” It’s true, even if you didn’t mean to say it out loud. Hoseok’s lips pursed for a moment before he looked to his side, taking in the railing with interest before nodding and letting out a quiet noise of agreement from his throat.

And then you find yourself staring at him, taking in his sheer beauty before then looking around the park as well. It’s truly astonishing to see so much colour, to know that people just grew up being able to see this all the time. You couldn’t have even imagined just how many different variations of green there are, the shades running from the darkest green that almost borders on black to the pretty and palest green you’d spotted on a few flowers.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper gently, eyes running along an ancient tree that towers above you both. It’s trunk is thick and strong, the bark a shade between grey and brown while the leaves that sway in the breeze are a mixture of greens and what you presume to be orange and yellow. The science books said that was generally what colour leaves went during autumn, but New Korea had species of trees that weren’t found on Earth.

Either way, it was possibly one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

“It is. And I don’t really mean to interrupt you, because I kinda really just wanna look around too, but...I need you to explain. Please.” Hoseok gestures to the bench next to him with an imploring look and you see the pure confusion in his eyes. The poor guy's life has suddenly been turned upside down and he has absolutely no idea what’s just happened apart from a quickly blurted out statement from you in a café.

Honestly, he’s taking it all pretty well.

Taking a deep breath, you use it to fortify yourself as best you can before sitting down next to him. A quick glance over at him lets you see that he’s staring at you, and you find yourself looking away shyly in response to his intense gaze. Somehow, you’d always imagined meeting your soulmate as being a little more...romantic.

Obviously you hadn’t actually considered the awkwardness that would ensue upon two or more random people meeting each other and finding out that they’d been chosen by destiny to be perfect for one another. Then again, the stories focused on the love and romance of it all.

“Erm, well. Like I said earlier...we’re soulmates. Or like...I’m pretty sure we are. I err, I grew up on Earth. In Old Korea. And there’s still stories about soulmates back there, they’re not as popular anymore and they’re almost gone everywhere else but my mom always told me about them. She was convinced that the reason I couldn’t see in colour was because I was meant to get off Earth because someone was waiting for me out there.”

“What if your soulmate had been on Earth though?” Hoseok interrupts, looking thoughtful as he leans back against the bench and you pause, considering that. You’d pondered this a few times yourself over the years, but she’d been so adamant and desperate for you to leave that you’d pushed it away every time.

“Well...she might have just been telling me it. I mean, whatever you’ve heard about Earth...the reality is ten times worse. No mother wants to try and keep their kid on that hell planet anymore. So maybe she was but, I believed her. I used to read the stories all the time, of people finding each other through soul marks or just accidentally coming across each other. Two people who fate had decided were perfect for each other, complementary souls who would make each other happy in the long run. Who wouldn’t want that?” Hoseok’s brow rises slowly.

“I don’t know, freedom of choice is a really great thing.” He says dryly and you feel yourself wilt under his tone. You’ve dealt with Taehyung for long enough to understand where this is going. Hoseok thinks you’re being outrageous, having all these wild claims. Understandable, but it doesn’t stop the pain in your stomach when you think that it probably means he’ll leave.

“Yeah…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands and simply watch as you play with your fingers nervously, wondering what you’re meant to say. Anything is going to sound crazy to him and you’re trying to think of things that won’t send him running.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I just...this is all a little overwhelming and I get the feeling you’re understanding more than me. So please, continue. I’ll be less of a dick.” With those few sentences, you can already hear the centuries of high class breeding that has gone in Hoseok. Because there’s no one on Earth that would’ve been that polite about just potentially causing offence.

“It’s...it’s just. It all sounds so silly now I’m saying it out loud and you’re right. There’s no choice involved which makes it bad, right?” Looking at him, you give him pleading eyes but he has no response for you. “But I just...I’ve spent all my life looking in black and white. I used to watch the spaceport out of my bedroom window and wish I could see the stars, see the universe in the same colour everyone else did. And my mom told me it's because I have someone out there, someone who will make me happy and who will love me.”

Pausing, you swallow before shifting slightly to look at him.

“You have to understand. I can’t even begin to describe Earth to you, how bad it is. I made it here and...I can’t even begin to say how low my chances were. But I did. I just...I really believe that you’re...my soulmate. As stupid as that sounds to you. I’ve always felt like I needed to leave Earth, that I had to leave Earth. And I always wanted to come here to New Seoul. I thought it was just because I thought I’d have an easier time you know? Old and New Korea, it’d be similar. But when I made it here, I knew that I had to work to sustain myself and I picked here...like I just felt it was right for me. That probably sounds weird and stalkerish, huh? I just...looking back now, it feels like everything in my life has-”

“Lead to you a little café off the campus of New Seoul?” Hoseok says, his voice is carefully neutral and you look at him with surprise. You hadn’t expected him to say anything and he sounds strange. His expression is odd too, almost thoughtful as he stares down at the path.

Slowly you nod, even though he isn’t looking at you but you feel the need to let him work through whatever his thoughts are. And then he lets out a snorted laugh, shaking his head as he gives you a lopsided smile.

“You know, I thought you were full of shit in the café. I mean sure, I didn’t have any other explanation as to why suddenly I was seeing colour but I thought I’d let you talk. Even if I was sat here thinking ‘what the fuck is she on about? Soulmates?’. And then you kept talking and...it made sense,” Pausing, he glances over to you. “I’ve always been obsessed with Earth. The history and the culture. I actually wanted to do an Earth Studies major but my parents would’ve killed me. I didn’t really know why I was fascinated with it, not when everyone knows it’s one of the worst planets in the galaxy. But I just...absorbed everything I could about it. My mom was terrified that when I was eighteen that I’d run off there or something.”

Hoseok laughs at that, his face breaking into a bright smile as he glances up at the astonishingly blue sky. There’s a moment where he stops talking, his eyes simply wide as he watches it in wonder and you can’t take your own eyes off him. The smile of pure joy and wonder on his face makes your heart twist a little and you rub at your chest.

“I’m not that stupid. Besides, I got to choose a university and I just...wanted to come here. Had to. And then when I finished my degree, I felt like I should stay. Do a postgrad course. This makes a lot of sense now.” 

Chewing your lip, you wonder what to say to him and shift nervously, hands clasping and unclasping as you run through options in your mind. Was he seriously saying that he’d experienced the same urges that you had throughout life? The obsession and desire to go somewhere else with no real knowledge as to what was pushing it? Was it really the bond between you?

“I just thought I kept going to the café because I thought you were cute.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, that you don’t even realise what he’d actually said. And when it finally processes, your eyes widen almost comically.

“What?” You blurt out and Hoseok gives a small smile, looking a little awkward as he rubs the back of his neck before letting out one, long breath. This wasn’t where you’d been expecting it to go at all.

“I mean...are you really surprised? If what you say is true...and we’re...soulmates, then it kinda makes sense. From what you’ve said and what I just told you, it seems like we’ve had something trying to get us near each other even if we didn’t know what that was. So if whatever that was, was powerful enough to make you move to a different planet...then I think me liking you is the easy bit really.” Hoseok shrugs slightly, shifting to face you a little better before holding out his hand.

Pausing, you stare down at the palm facing you and lick at your suddenly dry lips. This is both exactly how you’d imagined this scenario going but also nothing like you’d imagined it all at once, and you’re not entirely sure how to feel about it all.

“Don’t you think it’s weird though? I mean...I just came up to you and started spouting all this soulmate bullshit and yeah sure, if I did this back on Earth to someone then they’d probably believe me easily because we believe in the stories more back there but you don’t. Not here. And you have no choice, like you said. I mean, you’re right, it’s not fair really. I don’t like...want you to feel pressured into anything because that’s not right.” You’re babbling, and you’re well aware that you’re babbling. There’s an inkling inside you that tells you that Hoseok also knows that you’re babbling, because he’s giving you a distinctly droll stare.

“Okay, Y/N,” You’re shocked that he knows your name but then remember the badge on your shirt that portrays the letters proudly in white holograms on a black background. “Yes, you’re right. I don’t think it’s fair, but then it’s also not fair for you. And it’s all a little fantastical and strange. But I have heard of the stories. I don't know much about them but I’ve heard of them. I was obsessed with Earth remember? Plus...both of us started seeing colour the moment I touched you. And even though you’re telling me all these things that sound pretty crazy and I’m more than a tiny bit bewildered by it all...sitting here with you is just about the best thing I’ve done all week.” 

Silence fills the air between you after that statement, expectant from him and stunned from you. You suppose that you should be thankful that he’s not running away from you as fast as he possibly can but you’re just...confused as to why he’s so laid back about it all.

And also shy, because this man who you’ve been crushing on for a long time, who is your soulmate, has admitted to liking you in turn. So much that he thought just sitting with you was good.

“Look, I could freak out and start screaming about how you’re talking bullshit and then walk off. I could avoid you for the rest of my life whenever I see you. But I don’t want to do that. I really, really don’t want to do that. I considered it while walking here, but something in me...something really deep in me shied away from that idea. So I’m going to roll with the punches. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard I guess. And I mean...it costs me nothing to try, right?” 

Staring at him with wide eyes, you feel your mouth open and close dumbly. Finally, you jerk your head away and swallow, wondering what you’re meant to do now. You’re not surprised to realise that you have absolutely no idea, so you tell him so.

“I don’t know what to do now. I mean...the stories never really talked about...this,” You gesture between you both. “So I mean...what happens?”

Hoseok lets out a cheerful laugh, the sound surprisingly high and infectious as it causes you to smile along with him. Looking at you, he carefully reaches out and takes your hand. His skin is soft and warm against yours and it’s almost like everything in your body focuses on that touch.

Glancing back at him, you wonder if he’s feeling the same because he can’t stop staring at your hands as well, his brows knitted slightly as a curious expression paints itself on his face. He snaps out of it quickly, turning his eyes to your own face before giving you a slight smile.

“Well...I guess this is probably the part where we get to act like normal people and just...go on a date? Maybe not somewhere too colourful right now but...I like the sound of that?” You can tell that he does by the hopeful tone to his voice and your mind does a leap of joy at it, amazed that he’s not only taking this all pretty well but seems to be pretty excited at the prospect of dating you.

So you smile at him sweetly, turning your hand until you can thread your fingers with his own before nodding slowly. “I like the sound of that too. So...where to?”

-

Two Months Later

You didn’t have a huge amount of experience when it came to dating. That was something that you had already been well aware of upon moving to New Seoul and something that had been made abundantly clear to you in the last four years. You’d never dated anyone back on Earth, too busy studying to try and pass your exams to even notice if anyone had potentially been interested in you.

Learning to date here had been interesting as a result. Despite the fact that you’d been well aware of how others dated back on Earth, even if you hadn’t been part of it, you’d quickly discovered that dating was very different here.

For starters, people were far more sexually liberated. Which was odd, because you’d had thought that the backwater of Earth would be. But while you’d entered into the world of sex thanks to Taehyung, who you’d not been surprised about at all given where he came from, it had surprised you to discover that New Koreans were actively having sex.

Which meant that you’d been on a few dates with people only to discover that sex on the first date was very much normal here. Hell, sex before the first date. It made you feel like a prude because on Earth it just...wasn’t done. 

People avoided sex because there was always the risk of a baby. And babies were not wanted on Earth, for many reasons.

But here, the population could withstand any number of children. New Korea had only just over a billion people on the entire planet, despite being founded centuries ago. It was something that you’d only really just gotten used to.

Other strange things were that people actually went out on proper dates. Like...to other places and would spend money on things. From what you knew, a date on Earth was probably just a virt-real session in a cheap arcade in some back alley. Here though, they were whole day experiences.

Getting used to that had been a learning experience, but you soon discovered that experience hadn’t prepared you in the slightest for dating someone like Jung Hoseok.

His level of wealth was something you couldn’t even begin to compare, and his own friends must be of a similar enough status because he kept making accidental mistakes with you. Your first date had been a prime example of that.

Brushing your hands down the dress you’d bought, you admired it once more in the mirror of your bedroom. It was a pretty design, one of those timeless classics that had existed for centuries now with the body tight on your waist before gently flowing out around your waist. It stopped above your knees while the top of the dress was cut into an elegant shape, thick straps over your shoulders that became slim points, connecting to the bodice and the material cut into a shape that enhanced the shape of your breasts. 

Taehyung had agreed that it was the perfect shape for a first date, especially given that Hoseok had told you that he was taking you somewhere that had a dress code. Your feet were currently inside some dainty flat shoes with black ribbon that criss crossed up your calves. 

The dress was particularly nice because it was made of a special material that allowed it’s wearer to change the colour or pattern at will. A useless dress for you before, but now you got to see colour in its full glory and you wanted to revel in that.

You’d designed to go for a simple black today but Taehyung had encouraged you to make the flowing ends sparkle like the night sky, the tiny glittering specks becoming more sparse the higher up the dress they went.

It made a beautiful effect and you’d thanked Taehyung profusely.

Hoseok had apparently really liked it as well when you met up an hour later. You’d met up at a designated spot in the centre of New Seoul, the neon lights surrounding you making your dress shimmer in a beautiful array of colour that you’d never even seen before that had you feeling like the walking embodiment of a galaxy. His eyes had lit up when he’d met you, his own body attired in a classic black button up with matching black slacks. 

It had taken a lot to keep your jaw closed at first, eyes almost bulging at the sight of how unbelievably attractive he’d looked. You’d been shy after that, convinced that fate had it wrong and that there was no way he was your soulmate. 

Hoseok had been a little awkward as well, his movements almost stiff while his speech had been a little stilted. That hadn’t stopped him from complimenting you though, his smile genuine and eyes warm as he’d looked you over repeatedly.

“You look beautiful. The dress is...I’d say it’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve seen but then I’m looking at you so…” That had made you snort with laughter, the sound not attractive but you’d been unable to stop yourself as your hand had moved to cover your mouth.

“Wow...use that line on all the ladies Mr Jung?” His cheeks had flushed red at that, embarrassment making him look elsewhere while his fingers had played with each other in the classic body language of uncertainty. It had made you feel bad, so you’d reached out to him and grasped one of his hands carefully, pleased when he’d instantly shifted to thread his fingers with yours.

“So where are we going?” Had been your next words to him, the gentle smile on your face trying to let him know that you weren’t trying to make him feel bad or stupid. He’d given you a relieved expression in response and a small part of you had marvelled at the fact that already you could read him so well despite the little amount of time you’d spent together.

Hoseok had led you through the streets then, happily pointing out various stores or bars that he’d been to while at university and regaling you with stories of incidents that had happened. One clothing store had been the unfortunate recipient of Hoseok and his best friend, Jaebum, when they’d been drunk after a night out.

Apparently he was now banned from it, something that had caused him much embarrassment. A throwaway comment had let you know that it hadn’t pleased his parents either, but he’d danced away from that topic quickly.

You’d reciprocated his stories with the few you had of your own. The street where Taehyung had run the whole length stark naked after getting absolutely wasted on Mei Long, an infamous spirit with a high alcohol content made using native plants on Yangzhou. It’s name came from ancient China on Earth and meant sleeping dragon. 

Needless to say, you’d discovered why when Taehyung had ripped his clothes free and proclaimed himself to be a spirit of the universe who no one could hold back. It had taken you, Chaeyoung and one of his girlfriend’s at the time, Jisoo, ten minutes to chase after him and finally get him back into his clothes.

Thankfully, this had been at three in the morning and there’d been no one in that particular area which meant there had been around to call the police on him. 

Hoseok had laughed hysterically at that, telling you that he definitely wanted to meet Taehyung properly and get a look at the guy who’d decided to drink a whole bottle of Mei Long. You’d given him a look, asking him if he’d ever done that before.

He’d become very innocent looking after that, but you’d been unable to query him given that you’d apparently arrived at your destination. The building was huge, one of the skyscrapers that dotted the very centre of New Seoul and you stared up at it.

“This is the biggest building on the entirety of New Korea.” Hoseok said with a smile, leading you inside and taking you to the elevator. It opened immediately with a soft ding, the holographic numbers above not telling you how many floors there were.

He input a number into the datapad beside the doors and you watched as the numbers zoomed past, a funny feeling in your stomach as it moved upwards at an incredible speed. On floor 120, it finally stopped and you both walked out to find a beautiful restaurant that had a classic feel to it.

There were no holograms here, no neon or anything. Just subtle lighting that was almost yellow in colour, giving everything a look that made it all feel old somehow. It also felt very romantic, with the tables far apart from each other and each table having a traditional wax candle burning away in the centre.

You’re so busy taking in everything that you don’t even notice when Hoseok gives his name to the woman dressed in an elegant uniform. It’s only when you’re being led to a table by the windows that you realise this is where your date is going to be.

But you can’t find it in yourself to say anything as you take in the jaw dropping sight of New Seoul before you. The windows are floor to ceiling and stretch from wall to wall on both sides of the restaurant, only the bar, kitchen and entrance exempt. New Seoul glitters and shines in the night, stretching out far below you and you’re almost pressed to the window in amazement at it.

Part of you wonders if this is what Busan looked like when you lived there, but then you realise that it’s so much better than that. As the tallest building, the restaurant towers above everything else and let’s you get the perfect glimpse of your adopted city. The neon signs you’d become so familiar with gleam brightly in the darkness and you admire the way everything looks so beautiful despite all the technology littering it.

Even at this late hour, the buildings still look clean and simple while the city itself looks almost elegant. It’s so unlike anything on Earth and you smile softly to yourself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you realise that you truly do consider this place to be home now.

The city turns abruptly into darkness far in the distance and you know that’s because it’s the very edge of New Seoul, the mountain range of Namsan rising into the sky behind it. It had been named by the founders of New Seoul after the mountain in Old Seoul and you thought it was rather fitting that it still towered over everything centuries later.

“Wow, it’s incredible.” You whisper softly, unaware that the waitress has left and that you’re alone again with Hoseok. He’s just watching you quietly though, chin in his hand and a gentle smile on his face as he does so. It’s only when you shift back to look at him that he sits up, the softness in his eyes vanishing until you only think it’s the reflection of the city lights in them.

“Yeah, it looks a lot better in colour.” He admits, grinning shyly and rubbing at the back of his neck. Reaching for the menu that had been placed in front of you, and marvelling for a moment over the soft feel of real paper, you scan over the options with narrowed eyes.

“Do you come here often?” You ask, keeping the conversation going while you try to figure out what some of the food was. It didn’t have explanations on it bizarrely, nor did it have how much anything cost. Half of the names made absolutely no sense to you and you chewed on your lip, probably ruining your lipstick but uncaring.

Hoseok looks up at you awkwardly, shrugging with one shoulder. “I’ve been here a few times. My parents made me come when I was younger. It’s one of the best restaurants on New Korea and I knew the view was amazing so...I wanted to share it with you. So we could both see it in colour for the first time.”

The sentiment behind his desire is sweet and you go warm all over at it, fingers playing with the white cloth napkin that was placed beside an elegant glass. At the same time though, the fact that he’s brought you to one of the best restaurants makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Combined with the lack of prices on the menu, you had a feeling that this place was probably going to wipe a big chunk out of your savings. The common courtesy for men on New Korea was to pay for the dinner still, an outdated belief that was still somehow prevalent in a society that was remarkably forward with dating.

You would be insisting that Hoseok split the bill of course. It simply didn’t do for you to accept him to pay for it all.

Though you would at least like help on what to order. Other than that, you couldn’t fault him for picking what had to be one of the most stunning sights on the planet to witness, because the view truly was incredible. And you had to remember that he did come from money, so it probably hadn’t entered his head.

It was something you could work on.

After that, you’d admitted to not knowing what the food was and had been instructed by Hoseok on what everything on the menu actually was. Apparently this was all traditional New Korean food, which was amusing to you because most of it didn’t really represent the food you’d grown up with in Old Korea, aka the real traditional Korean food.

A lot of the classic meals here had been adapted from old recipes to incorporate native plants and animal species here or had changed throughout the centuries to accommodate spices and foods brought in from other planets. The results meant that you barely recognised them and when your order of what was the New Korean equivalent of kimchi jjigae arrived, you’d been bemused to discover that it was nothing like what you were used to.

“This is not kimchi jjigae,” You said with laughter, sipping at the soup anyway and enjoying the taste despite that. It was sweet, incredibly sweet to the point that you were almost cringing with only the slightest hint of spice to it. “Where’s the spice?”

Picking up a piece of kimchi between your chopsticks, you ate it carefully and hummed in contemplation. Whatever this vegetable was, it wasn’t what you were used to and you carefully ate another piece.

Hoseok watched you with a laugh, shaking his head and grinning. “It’s been a few centuries, apparently recipes change. Either that or this place is just too fancy. You know what it’s like with restaurants like this.”

He’d said it so airily, so completely unaware that you haven't grown up anything like him. But the innocence with which he says it makes it hard to feel annoyed at him, not when you can tell that he genuinely doesn’t mean anything mean or rude by it.

“Not really. I don’t think they have restaurants like this on Earth. Or if they do, they weren’t in Busan and I could have never gone there.” That stuns him into silence, his jaw audibly clicking shut while red appears once more on his cheeks. You get the impression that Hoseok is mentally slapping himself and laughed, letting him know that you’re not really bothered.

That leads on to a whole discussion about Earth, with Hoseok peppering you with questions about what it was like growing up there and what Earth was actually like. It was hard to describe somewhere so completely destitute and poor to someone who came from a place that was as rich and powerful as New Korea, but you tried for him.

You could tell that he was genuinely interested in your home planet; not only because of his own interest in the homeworld of humanity but because it was where you had come from. He asked you unique questions that you would have never thought of and the time had quickly passed as you had answered him, firing questions back to him about growing up here.

It was during this conversation that you found out that Hoseok had mostly grown up in New Seoul though his parents had often taken him to other cities for months at a time. You got the impression he resented this but despite the subtle querying, he didn’t take the bait and discuss it further.

All you knew was that neither of you had grandparents; your own dying when you’d been a child from what was deemed old age on Earth while Hoseok’s had apparently died before he’d even been born. You presumed from that then that his parents were on the older side, which you found interesting given their position in New Korean society.

Finally though, it was time for the bill and you were surprised to find out that three hours had passed by. You’d eaten all the kimchi jjigae, despite the laughter about how different it was to what you were expecting, and had fully enjoyed the dessert that had followed it. 

The waitress placed the bill on the table, the paper printed carefully with the meals and drinks that you’d both ordered and eaten throughout the evening. It was a novel concept to see paper being used so liberally here and you took it from Hoseok, ignoring his protest.

“I want to pay for half. That’s how we do it on Earth and I know that it’s different here but I-” You stop suddenly, eyes widening as you read the total at the bottom. It’s so high that your brain can’t even compute it for a few seconds and you simply gawp, blinking before frowning. “Is this right?”

Hoseok takes the receipt from you and scans over it, nodding slowly before looking at you. Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed, hands playing with the hem of your dress as you carefully avoid his gaze.

“Yes? It’s right? I mean...is there something wrong? I can’t see anything? And I’m okay sharing the bill, it’s not what I’m used to but I want to make you comfortable.” You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself to stop those words coming out of your mouth, because now you’re going to have to embarrass yourself even more.

For a minute, you struggle to find the words to tell him, shame at your own situation and a sudden hatred of where and how you’d grown up taking over. You’d spent years studying to get here and then years working here when you had, yet you still weren’t good enough. Especially not for him, not for your soulmate.

“Hoseok...I’m really sorry. I...I can’t afford this.” The words are whispered, barely audible and he frowns for a moment. You wonder if he’s not heard you, humiliation rising at having to say it for a second time before suddenly his eyes widen, jaw dropping.

“Oh fuck.” He curses loudly, attracting shocked looks from other patrons. Shoulders hunching, you try to make yourself even smaller to avoid their gazes but it’s Hoseok’s you want to escape from most of all. The way his face crumples into dismay and then pity makes you want to throw yourself out of the damn window.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I just...I forgot and I wanted to show you this place but I forgot the pricing and-” He’s about to continue, prostrating himself to you from the other side of the table and you can hear the genuine apology in his voice. Not to mention his worry about making a bad impression.

Holding up a hand, you give him a slightly strained smile and sigh deeply. “It’s okay. I...the food was great, the view was amazing and I really enjoyed it. I just...do you mind paying? I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t say sorry, this was my mistake. My bad. I’m so stupid, oh my god. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. Fuck.” He lets out a groan, running his hands through his artfully done hair before tugging on the strands a little. It makes him look even more attractive and you hum in amusement at that, despite the little bubble of negativity you’re feeling.

“It’s okay. Honestly. We’ll just...learn from this right? That’s what we’re doing...learning.”

He’d spent the rest of that night apologising profusely, his cheeks bright red in shame and a look of sadness on his face as he chastised for his mistake. 

Hoseok had already admitted to you before then that he’d never even met anyone from Earth, despite his obsession when younger. As such, he hadn’t quite realised just how poor people from there were. After that date, you’d carefully given him more cultural lessons about Earth from someone who had actually lived there.

You had money here, yes. But you didn’t have the kind of money required to sustain those levels of dating.

Thankfully, he’d proven to be a quick learner and had made sure to propose dates that were a little more amenable. Whole days spent running around virt-real landscapes that took you both away to planets you hadn’t even thought of or engaged in full story led experiences. A day at the closest amusement park, the rides there engineered to almost defy the laws of physics. Another day at a conservation park, full of wild animals that were being carefully raised or nurtured back to health.

Some of them had been native to New Korea whereas others had been bred here specifically to repopulate other planets wildlife species. You had both learnt that apparently there were many attempts being made across the galaxy to bring back once extinct Earth wildlife with the eventual hope of repopulating the homeworld of humanity with the animals they’d once killed off.

You’d been a little dubious of the whole idea. People had already messed everything up once and Earth was polluted enough just for humans. The idea of putting all these innocent animals back there to potentially just suffer and die wasn’t good for you, but you appreciated the attempts in the hope of a future.

What had maybe surprised both of you though, had been just how well you got on with each other. You could tell that Hoseok had remained a little dubious about the whole soulmate thing and you hadn’t pushed him on it either. But even you were finding it a little strange just how well you both were interacting with each other. 

The two of you came from wildly different backgrounds and completely different planets. Neither of you had watched the same things growing up, hadn’t read the same things or done the same activities. And yet you’d both discovered so many commonalities already.

Your music tastes didn’t quite align with each other, but they were complementary enough that neither of you complained when you heard something playing that the other loved. Your film tastes aligned perfectly though and you’d both spent more than a few evenings at the retro cinema a few blocks away from the university.

Cinemas were a novel thing nowadays, given the galaxy’s penchant for things immediately. They were mostly just for those who wanted to pretend they were living a few centuries ago when a cinema was the only place you could watch something new. They’d also gained a new life as social places to meet up and hang out with friends and family.

Hoseok and you had watched so many films, from those made right here in New Korea to those from all reaches of the galaxy. They even showed the Ancient Classics from Earth, the home of film.

The cinema has that familiar subtle lighting that makes it feel warm and welcoming while the scent of fresh popcorn, an old Earth staple for this kind of event apparently, flavouring the air. Traditional style posters were hung everywhere, advertising what films were going to be shown in the upcoming weeks and you hummed as you looked over them, sipping on your drink as you waited for Hoseok to come back from the bathroom.

The two of you had been dating for a month now and you were surprised at how relaxed and comfortable you felt with him already. It reminded you almost of your friendship with Taehyung, but far more intense. 

You suspected that Hoseok reciprocated the feelings as well, given that the two of you had been going on ‘dates’ or just enjoying time together at least once every two days. Almost like neither of you liked going longer than that without seeing each other.

By this point, he’d become well acquainted with Taehyung, visiting your apartment frequently. The two of you had done everything from watch entertainment to simply sitting together and reading and even studying for your classes. It felt nice, just to be near him. Relaxing almost.

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hoseok who had introduced you to cinemas. They didn’t have them on Earth anymore, which he’d been surprised about. Though you’d pointed out that even if they did have them, no one could afford to go to one anyway. Or even have time.

But apparently he loved them and was a huge aficionado of the old films from Earth. He’d been surprised to discover you hadn’t really seen any, only really watching the newer stuff that had been released. Which had led to him taking you to this specific cinema in New Seoul which specialised in an authentic and traditional experience.

They even had old style projectors here, which you hadn’t even known still existed. The first film he’d taken you to see had been something called Star Wars, apparently the first in a series that had been hugely popular in the 20th and 21st centuries. Given its age, it didn’t look its best and you’d both laughed over how it treated space flight and so forth but you’d surprisingly enjoyed it a lot.

As such, you’d come with him a few more times since and had watched a wide range of genres with him. Everything from something called Mamma Mia! to Alien, all of it so old that you didn’t even recognise half of the stuff you were looking at. It was like a window into another world, but you loved it and so did he.

Tonight though, you’d be watching something called Jurassic Park. Apparently it was one of the best films from Earth and featured dinosaurs. That had immediately fascinated Hoseok when you’d both read the description. You had been interested too but New Korea had nothing comparable to the dinosaurs of Earth.

“Hey, I’ll take that.” Hoseok says as he comes out of the bathroom, smiling at you brightly as he reaches for the large tin bucket full of sweet flavoured popcorn. You give him to happily, holding onto the drink in a reusable cup and take another sip before gesturing to him as you both walk to the correct screen.

He leans forward and you carefully press the cup to his lips, tilting it just enough for him to drink before taking it back once he’s had enough. The screen is dark when you go in, the generic lighting letting you find your seats in the small room and you listen in happiness at the gentle chatter of the people around you.

You’d been surprised to find that these screenings were very popular here and it never failed to amuse you the fascination people still held for Earth. Particularly given their contempt for it as well. 

Hoseok shifts in his seat, slumping even further and you smile at him. This cinema apparently wasn’t in the actual traditional style with individual seats that were numbered. Instead, it had opted to go for a more casual approach that appealed more to the citizens of New Seoul, it’s one concession to modern day preferences.

Each screen has multiple different kinds of seats available, with some long couches allowing up to four people on them or alternatively, smaller armchairs for those going alone. You always booked tickets for two seater couch, enjoying how comfortable it was and how you could relax completely in your seat to enjoy the film.

It also helped that it let you get a little bit closer to Hoseok, his warmth exceptionally comfortable and soothing to you. You’d even fallen asleep once against him, walking up to his gentle prodding in an hour later and having to steadfastly ignore his amused expression. 

Unfortunately, you’d drooled all over his shoulder. He’d thought it was cute, you’d been mortified.

Today though, he simply held up an arm and gave you a questioning look. Smiling, you placed the cup into the inbuilt cup holder on the arm of the couch before shuffling over, cuddling into his side and enjoying the way his arm felt on your shoulder while he felt so solid against your side.

You both chat for a few minutes, your voices quiet and low as you discuss how your day had gone before the lights dimmed and the screen came to life. Almost immediately you both quietened down, eyes glued to the screen as it went through the usual advertisements for brands and films. 

And then the film began.

Neither of you talked at all throughout it all, both of you completely enraptured in the film that had been released over a thousand years ago. You were in complete awe over the storyline and the magnificent dinosaurs, squeezing Hoseok tightly in fear at the scene with the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the car before pushing your head into his shoulder with the Velociraptors in the kitchen.

It was all over far too soon, with the soaring music that filled your chest signifying the end along with the credits that rolled of people who had long since died. Looking at Hoseok, you grinned at his awed expression, taking a handful of the remaining popcorn and stuffing it into your mouth before getting up.

You both stretched with a groan before exiting, placing the popcorn tin and cup into the relevant recycle bins before quietly heading into the bathrooms. Hoseok was waiting for you outside and he took hold of your hand, holding on tightly as you both exited the cinema and began to chatter about the film you’d both watched.

It had become a tradition quietly to go for a meal afterwards and talk all about what you’d just seen; from analysing the storyline to discussing the effects and acting. Some of the films you’d watched had been truly atrocious, but you got the feeling that what you’d just seen was special.

Sure enough, you’re both sat in a Valerian restaurant half an hour later, the pasta that had been brought with Valerian’s from old Italy mixed with the native spices and flavours from their planet being eaten without even properly appreciating what you were eating.

“Was it just me, or did the dinosaurs still look really good? I mean...the film’s over a thousand years old but it didn’t look...crap?” Hoseok says, wonder in his eyes as he talks and you nod in agreement.

“I did some quick reading beforehand and apparently they used physical props for like the T-Rex, so that was actually real. Maybe that’s why it looked like that? I mean, the dinosaurs at the very start looked pretty awful.” He nods and hums, tapping his finger against his chin before eating some more.

“Makes sense I guess. Though they used physical props in Star Wars and that still looked absolutely shit. Maybe it’s the lighting they used? It was dark often and you can hide a lot in darkness.” 

Shrugging, you took a deep drink of Valerian wine, enjoying the subtle fruity taste of the alcohol before swallowing it. “I really liked it though. I think that’s been my favourite so far.”

Hoseok grinned broadly, happiness radiating from him and you felt a blossoming warmth in your own chest at his expression. Gripping your fork a little tighter, you watched as he nodded, eyes almost sparkling and you wondered if your own expression looked like his.

“Definitely. I can see why it’s been rated so high for so long. Apparently there’s sequels.” He raises a brow at you, the question in both his tone and face and you grin immediately.

“If we finish this quickly...do you want to go watch one at mine?” The question was already defunct as Hoseok was nodding immediately and you laughed loudly, loving how eager he was to spend more time with you.

Not that you were complaining of course…

Today, Hoseok had asked to meet you outside of your apartment in the early hours of the morning. You’d do so with a gentle whine, heart racing a little at the sight of the little smile on his face as it hovered above your PED. He’d promised that it would be worth it though.

And the sight of the silver air car coming to a quiet landing in front of you told you that it probably was. Brow rising, you watch as the passenger side door opens and Hoseok grins at you from the other side. Carefully, you climb in next to him and sit down, pressing the button where the safety harness engages and the door closes.

The interior of the air car is possibly the nicest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life and it smells clean and fresh. That’s not surprising, given one of the things you’ve learnt about Hoseok is that he’s pretty sensitive about smells and only likes light fragrances. Apparently he really liked the fruit scent that you’d taken to using here on New Seoul, a fruit called peach that you’d never heard of before.

But despite all of that, you can tell that this air car costs money. They’re common here in New Korea, less common than on Earth though but these air cars are made to the highest galactic standards. They produce almost no pollution  and have high safety standards. A law was passed over a century ago that required all air cars to be less than four years old to reduce accidents.

Unlike Earth, where you knew of people with two hundred year old air cars that occasionally stopped working.

As a result though, air cars weren’t the cheapest form of transportation and most people took the excellent public transportation which connected every city, town and village on the planet together.

“I should’ve known you had an air car.” Smiling slightly, you reach out and run your fingers along the black dashboard. It’s sleek and beautiful, soft to your touch but you know if there was an accident that it would immediately swell with life saving foam.

“Oh yeah? Why?” Hoseok’s question is genuine, you can hear the actual curiosity in it and you just stare at him dryly until his mouth drops in realisation. Seeing that gentle flush of pink on his cheeks, you turn away and shake your head slightly in amusement.

“Anyway, where are we going that requires this?” He’d only ever taken you places using the public transportation before, so going somewhere privately intrigued you.

“We’re going to Sejong. I thought you might like it.” The statement is so casual that you almost miss it at first until it finally registers in your head. Then you look at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Sejong? You’re taking me to Sejong? Seriously? Why?” That gets a confused look from him, almost affronted and you want to laugh at how genuinely baffled he looks by your suddenly accusatory tone. He takes a moment to formulate a response, hand reaching out to press confirm on the begin button on the journey map holo and you can’t help the small ‘ooh’ of pleasure as the air car rises silently and smoothly.

“Because my family has an estate there, on the beach. And...well I always really hated it when I was younger and I couldn’t see what it all looked like because everyone always talks about Sejong being beautiful. But it just looked like everywhere else to me. So...I want to see it, and I want you to see it too. You brought colour into my life...it’s only fair that I show you one of the most beautiful sights in New Korea.” 

It wasn’t a hugely romantic statement that he’d just said. People might even view it as a little selfish, using you as an excuse to go on an excursion to his family’s estate in one of the most affluent areas in the entirety of New Korea. But the breathlessness that had taken over your chest and the way your heart fluttered told you that you thought it was the romantic thing you’d ever heard.

He wanted to go see what was considered to be one of the natural wonders of New Korea in its full colour glory...and he wanted to go with you. The woman who claimed to be his soulmate and whom he didn’t quite believe but didn’t quite not believe either. 

Your stomach felt a little funny.

“Okay...I mean...yeah. I’d love to.” It was the only thing you could say really. You wouldn’t have turned down the offer anyway, but the fact it was with him made it all the better. The last two months had made your crush on Hoseok grow bigger, the feelings swirling inside you snowballing faster and faster until you weren’t entirely sure what you felt anymore.

Being around him was the most exciting thing in the galaxy to you but it was also one of the most calming and relaxing. He made you smile with his sweet attempts at dating and conversation, his uncertainty with how to act endearing, and made you laugh with his good humour. But he also made you feel safe in his presence, like you could tell him all of your problems and he’d be a vault for you or fall asleep in his presence and he’d protect you.

You’d wondered whether the whole soulmate thing really was real sometimes after finally meeting him, or if you’d just projected hard. It was complicated to comprehend, but you genuinely believed in it. You weren’t sure what he thought, but you’d never met someone you just felt so...right with before.

And so quickly. 

After only two months you already felt like you’d been friends for a long time while the romance between you both made your stomach fizz sometimes. It was a strange mixture of comfort with excitement.

Glancing over at him, you realise that he’s already looking at you and you pause in surprise. There’s a moment of hesitation from you before he smiles softly, reaching out across the gap that separates your seats and grasps your hand gently. With a movement that’s become practiced over the months, his hands shift until he can lace your fingers together, squeezing tightly for a moment.

“So how big is this estate? The very fact that you can use the word estate is mind boggling to me. The fact it implies you have more than one is even more so.” That gets a laugh from Hoseok now, his head rocking back to rest against the soft headrest behind him.

“It’s...of a good size. And I wouldn’t go around thinking everyone here has an ‘estate’, they don’t. It’s just...my family…” He trails off awkwardly and you nod, acknowledging that with a quiet sigh. Hoseok had proven to be rather reticent about his family and you’d been a little insulted at first, wondering if maybe he didn’t think you’d be good enough with your incredibly low birth status.

But you’d soon realised that it was actually because he wasn’t really sure how to go about it. He’d never actually said that out loud, but the way he danced around conversations that veered too close to his family told you everything. You’d even noticed that he did it around his own friends, whom he’d introduced you to last month.

Quickly though, you’d decided not to push him on it. He would tell you all about it when he wanted to and you didn’t want him to feel pressured or anything. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured, especially when he didn’t pressure you on anything. You were a little curious though as his family dynamics were something you couldn’t even comprehend really.

“It’s okay. So...we’re going to the sea?” You grin at him, causing him to smile back and the happiness in his eyes makes you feel content. Nodding at you, he leans back and lets out a deep sigh. 

“Yeah. I used to go to the Sejong estate when I was younger a lot. It’s one of my favourite places in this world. And I’m aware of my privilege when I say that, but I want you to see it too. You’ll love it, I’m sure.” That has you wiggling in your seat in excitement. You’d seen pictures of Sejong throughout your years here in New Seoul but they’d all been in black and white obviously.

You hadn’t looked at any since being able to see in colour, so you were excited to see what Hoseok had to show you. Particularly if he loved it too.

The rest of the journey to Sejong was quiet after that, the two of you settling down with just your hands holding. You even slept for an hour or so, content in the gentle noise of Hoseok’s music playing over the speakers while he read an e-book. It felt nice to not have to find the need to talk, the contentment of simply being near each other satisfying enough.

Despite joking around with Hoseok beforehand, you really were excited to see Sejong and experience it with him. A small coastal town on the equator of New Korea, it had been named after the ancient Korean King Sejong, the creator of the Korean alphabet, hangul. 

Sejong had originally been founded by the planet’s richest inhabitants four centuries ago, bestowing the name of the famed king upon it. It was considered to be one of the most beautiful places on the whole planet and was populated with the sprawling estates of the oldest and most influential families.

Hoseok had also informed you that it did have a normal, fully working town as well with a population of people who simply lived their lives like any other person. The original founders of the town had built affordable housing for everyone and special laws had been passed to ensure that the price of the buildings never rose. Even now, centuries later, houses still had to be sold at the price that had been specified all that time ago.

It had helped to encourage more growth in the town and a diversity of people from all walks of life, as all new buildings had the same regulations. The proximity to the planet’s richest people made it a popular place for people to live and visit but it had industry had been banned in the area to protect it.

A small beep alerted you both to the fact that the air car was about to land and you sat up, sad that Hoseok’s air car didn’t have windows in it. They were considered a structural safety hazard as there hadn’t been a glass invented that was strong enough to protect an impact that an air car could have in an accident so they just didn’t have them.

Glancing at you, Hoseok grinned before pressing a button once the car came to a gentle halt, the soft sound of the landing gears engaging as they touched the ground. Both doors hissed open and you bounded out, excitedly looking around and not even noticing when Hoseok came up behind you.

His arms wrapped around your waist before he lay his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck briefly before taking in the sight as well. 

An obscenely beautiful fountain made of what you thought was some material like marble took up most of the entrance courtyard, sprays of water shimmering like diamonds as they fell elegantly from a beautifully carved dragon and tiger that were intertwined. The black stone was engraved with hangul and you read it over, noting that they were names.

“It’s all the members of my family. Somehow it became a tradition to engrave the names of family onto the fountain throughout the centuries so...it’s like a living family tree.” The very notion that he could not only trace his family back so far but actually had a fountain with their names on it blew your mind.

“Hoseok...this is...I don’t even know the name of my great-grandmother.” It made you feel almost...ashamed to admit that to him. But while you knew he was rich, and came from an important family, it was another thing entirely to be face to face with it. The house behind the fountain was...obscenely large. A mansion, something you thought was only an image in e-books from centuries ago.

But this was actually a mansion...two stories high and long. So many windows dotted it’s sides, gleaming in the sunlight while the two-door entrance required three steps to climb before entering the entrance canopy. The walls were a beautiful off white colour while the tiles on the roof were a burnished orange, giving it a look that you recognised from images of ancient Italy and Spain on Earth.

The difference was the style of the architecture though. It was a blend of what had once been called Asian and Western on Earth. The house itself, the windows, the colouring and the doors were all clearly inspired by the mansions and houses of old Europe and North America. But the roof itself arched in the elegant lines of old Korea, reminding you so much of the ancient palaces and temples that still dotted the landscape of your home country.

Hoseok sighs gently before kissing your temple, resting his lips there for a moment before pulling away and taking your hand once more. “I’ll give you a tour of the house later...but for now...I want to take you to the beach. And the ocean. I just...please don’t stress yourself about this place. I like to think you know me well enough now to know that I don’t really care about stuff like this. I just want to show you something that’ll make you smile.”

Watching him quietly for a moment, you just smile a little to yourself before letting yourself be led down a gravelled path that was surrounded by vibrant green hedges that bloomed with a whole array of pretty flowers. You presumed that these were likely native to the planet but you couldn’t be sure.

Either way, they were beautiful and smelled just as delightful too. Pausing for a moment, you leant forward to smell one of them and hummed lightly. It smelled like oranges bizarrely, and you frowned in confusion at it.

“Weird right? It’s a flower that smells like a fruit. And what’s even stranger is that the scent changes according to the season. Mom loves it though so she made them put these in when I was younger. Now the whole place smells like them but I don’t mind.” With a little tug, he continues leading you through until he reaches a tall, white stone wall that rises high above you both. 

It looks to go for a distance in both directions and you presume it marks the boundaries of the estate itself. The gate Hoseok opens doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen in person before. It looks to be in a traditional iron gate, the metal intricately curled into patterns while the black colour stands out starkly. You like it though, strangely.

“I thought the sea was like...right here from what you were saying.” You say to Hoseok lightly, following him carefully through the small trail that looks to have been worn into the tall grass over years of use. It must be very old, because you can’t imagine many people being here all that often.

“Well...I mean it technically is. It’s just over this little rise. Apparently this was here when Sejong was founded and it makes like...a natural sea wall to prevent any tsunamis. Not that there’s ever been one but...I guess it’s nice to know it’s there. And then we have the estate boundary wall as a defence as well. Though I think that was more to keep prying eyes away. But anyway, I digress. The sea is right here, and you can see it perfectly from my bedroom in the house.” That gets a laugh from you and you push at his side gently, humming in amusement as he lets out a tiny wail and overdramatically pretends to fall.

“I lived near the ocean too on Earth but I couldn’t see it. Not that I’d ever want to. It wasn’t anything interesting to look at. And I wish I could say that was just because of being colour blind but you know...dead ocean and everything.” You say it lightly but Hoseok looks back at you with slight concern.

Even though he knew a lot about Earth thanks to all his self-studying growing up, you knew that he’d been learning a lot from what you’d been telling him. A lot of it had been shattering that idealised image he’d had but at the same time, it had just increased his concern for you as well.

You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that he felt a lot of shame at the vastly different ways you’d both grown up. But you didn’t want that. Neither of you could have changed your situation back then and you wanted to just focus on the here and now. You’d made it away from there, you were where you’d always dreamed of being and now...now you had your soulmate too.

Finally, the two of you reach the top of the ridge and both pause. Partially, it’s because you’re both a tiny bit out of breath from the small climb but mostly it’s because you’re stunned by what you see.

Carefully moving down, you take off your shoes once the coarse grass meets the fine sand. Moving onto it barefoot, you look down and smile as you feel it squish between your toes, moving beneath your feet and making it a little harder to stand. It feels so soft and warm, so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

Crouching down, you run your fingers through it and smile as it leaves behind trails, a few grains rushing to fill the gaps. Taking a handful, you hold it up and watch as the perfectly white sand slips between your fingers, falling to the ground gracefully in the gentle breeze of the wind.

You’re so enamoured with the sand that you don’t realise Hoseok is crouching next to you too, just watching you with a fascinated look. It’s only when he pushes some sand over to you, covering your hand that you look at him.

“I thought you said you lived by the ocean?” Nodding, you look at your hand as you lift it up to your face, noting how it seems to stick to you. “So why do I get the feeling you’ve never seen sand?”

“Because I haven’t. The sea is dead on Earth. No one goes to a beach anymore unless you want to risk getting something. And even then, most of the sand beaches are gone. This...this is...beautiful.” Looking up, you take in the astonishing sight before you.

The white sand extends out around a hundred metres before it meets the ocean, the waves lapping against the shore lightly. White foam bubbles at the lip of each wave, extending out as it slides along the sand before sinking back out and awaiting the next wave.

Jogging forward, you note that it’s not as blue as you’d expected. Or at least, not as blue as you’d seen in the photos that you’d looked at over the last two months. The sea closest to the shore is crystal clear with the slightest hint of an almost green shimmer to it, letting you see directly to the shells, stones and driftwood that dot the ocean floor. 

Moving further away, it deepens into an exquisite green that’s so light and so unique. It reminds you of the colour ‘seafoam’ that you’d looked up on the colour charts when you’d gone home the first day after properly meeting Hoseok. You’re not sure you’d ever be able to replicate the colour here.

This astonishingly beautiful green slowly turns into a crystal aquamarine as it gets farther out, deepening until the horizon is a rich and luscious navy against the clear and clean blue of the sky. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen anything so...magnificent. 

The ocean here isn’t a stretch of land though, and you note with awe that it’s more like a bay. White sand circles around in a wide arch and you take in the sight of the mountains that thrust proudly towards the heavens in either direction. The right side of the bay is heavily forested in luscious green, as if it has a living coat made of emerald leaves that breath in time to the wind.

On the left hand side, the mountains are coated in the same forests, but this side doesn’t approach the ocean gently like the other. Instead, it meets the elegant sea in a crash of jagged cliff sides, their faces bone white as they push back against the ever looming waves. 

Gazing around everything in wide eyed wonder, you turn and look at Hoseok. You’re slightly pleased to see that he’s also looking everywhere with the same awed look as you, finally catching your eye and giving you a smile that slowly turns into a grin.

“Wow. I knew it was beautiful here, it was beautiful even in black and white but this...this is…” He trails off, unsure of what to say and you find yourself nodding in agreement with him. It was easy to see why this was considered one of the natural wonders of New Korea and it boggled your mind even more to know that his family had a whole estate right here. 

The bay was big enough that it didn’t take up a huge amount of space in reality, but it still blew your mind. And you knew that unlike the oceans of your homeworld, this ocean would be in pristine condition because of the strict environmental laws in place.

It was why you couldn’t resist running forward to the water, shrieking with laughter as warm seawater splashed your feet. The very fact that you could do this without any words was amazing but you didn’t pay attention to that, just looking at Hoseok with a bright grin.

“It’s warm! Come here!” You gestured to him but he shook his head, laughing in response as he pushed his black hair away from his forehead.

“I have my clothes on. I don’t want to get them wet.” He said lightly, ignoring the fact that your own leggings were now soaked around your calves as you kicked around in joy. But you pouted at him, sticking your lower lip out far and giving him the biggest puppy eyes you could possibly do.

And you literally saw the moment he gave in. The moment when his resolve died in him. It was astonishingly fast but soon enough he was kicking off his own shoes, placing them next to yours where he’d brought them after you’d taken them off before coming over to you.

He hesitates for a moment at the water’s edge and you grin, bending over and spraying him with water that you throw upwards. The yelp he lets out makes you laugh even harder, but not as much as you do when he does it straight back to you.

That starts a whole water fight between the two of you, throwing water that glitters in the sunlight at each other until you’re both drenched and tired. Heaving a breath, you let out a breathy laugh as Hoseok moves over to you, the water up to his stomach now.

He cups your face in his hands, smiling down before kissing you quickly. “So...how do you like the sea?”

Twisting your lips, you think for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Pushing up on your tiptoes, you kiss him once more and enjoy the way your stomach almost buzzes in content delight at the sensation of his lips against yours.

“Amazing. I could live here.” You say once you pull away, admiring the way his sun makes his skin almost glow golden from where it reflects against the water on him. His hair is plastered to his head, the strands an inky black and you reach up to gently move them away.

“I’m glad you like it.” He whispers and then he’s kissing you again. Only this time, he reaches down and grasps the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump. Even if you weren’t stronger than him because of your Earth heritage, the water adds a buoyancy that allows you to feel lighter than ever. Squeezing your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his neck and simply enjoy the sensation of making out with him in this beautiful place, the water warm against you while the sun beats hotly onto you both and the gently crashing of the waves make the most perfect soundtrack.

It’s something you never could have even imagined back on Earth and the thought makes you grip him a little harder, not wanting to let go of him in case this all just turned out to be a dream that would break your heart. He doesn’t complain, just lets out a quiet groan into your mouth and squeezes your thighs a little harder.

Hoseok has been good for the last two months. Despite the common prevalance of sex in dating here, he’s understood the differences between you both more than you thought he would. Your shyness around sex with new people was still there and you hadn’t liked the idea of jumping into that with him. 

Especially given you were confident he was most definitely your soulmate. You didn’t want that fact to pressure you into something, no matter who he was. What you’d wanted to do was get to know more of him and his personality before any of that and let him do the same for you.

And so you had. He hadn’t complained or even tried to insinuate it, not after you’d told him the differences between Earth and New Korea dating culture. Instead, he’d been respectful and told you that he’d wait until you were okay with it all.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to sometimes, even though you hadn’t felt entirely ready. He was your soulmate and you did feel a deep and intense sexual attraction towards him. Sometimes the tension between you both was so strong that you could cut it with a knife. You knew that because Taehyung had complained about it whenever Hoseok came to your apartment.

He’d pointed it out and said that every time, he had to go to one of his partners for an intense session because of how turned on he became because of the untouched attraction between you both. You’d just laughed at him at the time, but you’d also felt grateful to know that Hoseok desired you as much as you did him.

Right now though, you’d admit the ocean wasn’t the only reason you were wet, but you didn’t want to ruin the sweet and romantic moment you had going with him.

And you were glad that you didn’t, because you both spend the next ten minutes simply...enjoying each other and the tranquility of everything. The way he feels against you, the way he tastes, the way he smells and some part of you, deep down inside, relaxes. As if you’d finally, finally come home.

It all sounded silly and stupid, you knew people would laugh if you said it out loud but it’s the only way to describe how you feel around him. Home.

Finally though, you both separate and wade out of the sea, holding hands and laughing as you occasionally spray each other with kicks of water. How could anyone think soulmates aren’t real when you feel so comfortable with him so fast? As if you’d always known each other.

He hadn’t said whether he felt these same things, but he seemed to enjoy spending time with you or just talking to you so you thought he probably did. It was...nice, to know that there was someone who enjoyed everything about you.

The two of you walk a little along the beach before finally sitting down. You grimace slightly from your wet clothes and the way the sand seems to stick even more to your skin now, making Hoseok chuckle lightly before he sits a little closer to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder and inhale deeply before letting it out just as slowly. The two of you are quiet for a few minutes and you just take a moment to enjoy it all; the peace and tranquility that comes from him for you alongside the calm that nature provides in this exquisite place.

Finally though, you ask him the question that’s been festering inside you for the last month. You’re afraid of his response, but you know that you need to ask.

“Do you...do you believe in soulmates now? Do you think this is moving too fast or anything? I...I really…” You trail off, body warming in embarrassment as you wonder how on earth you’re meant to tell him your feelings. It’s only been two months. That’s far too fast to tell him that you love him, right?

“I don’t think we’re moving fast. You’re not moving fast if it feels right. You’re moving at exactly the pace you need to. And...yeah. I do. I can’t not, not after the last two months. Besides the fact that I actually get to see everything like everyone else does...the thought of not being around you physically hurts. In a way that’s never happened with anyone before. Being with you feels like-”

“Like you’re home.”

He tilts his head to look at you and you lean back, staring straight into those beautiful deep brown eyes that you’ve fallen for. There’s a moment of surprise that you’d said it, but then you recognise the acceptance of what you’ve said in his face as he nods.

“Yeah...home. It’s weird that it feels like that but I don’t think it’s weird I feel like that. If that makes sense?” Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze tightly.

“No, no it feels...good. I feel...I feel happy with you.” You get a little choked up at that, the words squeezing your throat tightly and he makes soft soothing noises. His free hand runs along your cheek, stroking gently as he presses a kiss to your nose and then your forehead.

“Hey, hey don’t get upset. We’re apparently living some super romantic ancient bond thing. Everything makes sense when you think of it that way.” That gets a snort from you and you rest your head on his shoulder again, nuzzling closer to him.

“No one will believe us. You know that right? I mean...even you didn’t really believe me at first. Taehyung is still half convinced we’re just having a ‘moment’ or something. If this was Earth then...there'd be a bit of disbelief but that would be it. But here? They’ll just think we’re lying or making up stories. Especially...especially given who you are...and who I am.”

He’s quiet for a moment, running the words through his mind and you hear the caw of birds. Glancing up, you take note of the unusual colouring of them with slight awe. Their wings were burnished gold and red, melting between each other as the sun glanced off them. You knew the name of these, it had been one of the things you remembered reading before.

The bulsajo, the Korean version of the ancient Greek phoenix. It had been named that due to the similarity of colouring and shape, with its long tail feathers helping to give the illusion of fire and warmth. It was even prettier than you’d imagined.

“Did you know that there’s a legend around the bulsajo here?” Hoseok asked softly and you looked at him, frowning slightly. “It’s not really something that would get noted down, just a legend here in Sejong. They’re a bit more common here than anywhere else, but still rare. It’s meant to be that you if you see two of them then it’s a mated pair, and the couple who sees them will stay together through their life and the next, like the bulsajo in the myths.”

Glancing up, you note that there’s two of them playing together in the breeze, their magnificent wings beating to keep them flying while they soar and swoop together. Something inside you gets a little emotional and your voice catches.

“Is that real? Or did you just say it right now to try and make me feel better?”

“Totally real. I spent a lot of time here growing up, you learn some things. One of my tutors lived in town and told me about it. I guess it’s kind of like...our version of soulmates or something? Either way, I believe in both. So it doesn’t matter what other people think, it matters what we think. I don’t care that you grew up poor on Earth, or that I grew up here with all the shit my family has. I don’t care if people think we’re stupid or weird. I know and you know. I spent twenty-three years of my life seeing in black and white. You spent twenty-two. And then I touch you, the girl I’d been crushing on for months and suddenly we can both see? I have no other explanation for that, and frankly I don’t want one. I’m happy with what we have.” Biting your lip, you curl into him a little more and sigh.

“People will think I’m just looking for money or status though.” That has Hoseok snorting and he stretches his legs out.

“Let them think that. It doesn’t matter, we know what’s real. That’s what matters.” Looking at him, you scan over his face intently and see clearly that he’s being completely serious about it. He really doesn’t care what anyone will think, despite the vast wealth and social status gulf between you both. 

Thinking about that too hard makes you feel upset though and you don’t want to feel that. Not right now. Not here with him.

So instead, you just look out across the incredible ocean in front of you. The sun isn’t as high as it was anymore and you wonder how it would look with the blaze of fiery colours that splash across the sky at sunrise will look against the exquisite jewel of the sea. You’re sure it’s probably phenomenal and you try to imagine it already, putting what you’d already see of sunrises against this beautiful background.

And then suddenly, you’re reminded of Busan. Of the grey world you’d grown up in, the heaving city with the dirty streets and buildings. The mountains that had once soared into the sky but were now outmatched by the skyrises that loomed even higher. You had seen the ocean there, known that at once point in its history it too had probably resembled something approaching what you saw here today. But that had been so long ago.

Now that ocean was as dead as everything else around it, a sullen grey that was probably exactly what you had always seen growing up. Your mom hated going to the ocean, even though one of her cleaning jobs had been stationed on the dock there. 

It was a feral ocean on Earth, angry and riled up by the weather constantly. Hell bent on destroying what humans had built in revenge for the pollution they had caused centuries ago which had suffocated the planet. You knew that was just your mind being over-active, but you could believe it.

You’d want revenge on humanity as well.

And it was all your parents had known. You were suddenly reminded of how you’d promised to get your parents off Earth once you had the money and you swallowed thickly, throat tight as hot tears burnt your eyes. Here you were, swanning around New Korea with your soulmate and taking in the sights of one of the most beautiful and exclusive places on the whole planet while your parents were back on Earth, still labouring and toiling in their exhausting existence.

The first tear falls, trailing down your cheek before it’s rapidly joined with another on the other side. Deep pain that you’d pushed down for years, the homesickness now for Earth but for the two people who had loved you so much that they’d given up everything for you roaring to life. They would love it here.

Suddenly, a ragged sob leaves your mouth and you bury your face in your hands as your shoulders shake from the strength of your cries. The startled noise Hoseok makes tells you that he doesn’t understand what’s happening at the moment but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rocking you slowly as he whispers soothing words to you.

For a few minutes, all you do is cry out the pain and longing, the desire and guilt that all mingles together when you think of your parents until finally your crying is more stable again. Your eyes are puffy and sore, cheeks stained wet with your tears and you have to wipe away some delightful mucus from your nose.

“I’m sorry.” You croak out, voice breaking slightly. The tears still fall, only quieter this time, their intensity burnt out of you as you take in deep and shaky breaths to try and stabilise yourself. Hoseok’s hand rubs your back in long and slow movements, the feeling so calming and reassuring.

“It’s okay...are you okay? What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” His concern is sweet and you smile weakly, wiping at your eyes before resting your hand on his knee. Licking your lips, you wonder how to word it before finally deciding to just jump straight in. You hadn’t explicitly discussed your parents with him before, not wanting to seem so...poor in front of him but now you felt shame for thinking that.

“I just...I wish my parents could see this. Just...all of it. The ocean, the sky, New Seoul. Everything. I wish I could bring my parents and give them a better life than what they had. I promised them I would but I don’t know when that will be. I don’t even know if they’ll be alive then,” You look at Hoseok, his face blurry from the tears and your breath catches in your throat. “My mom is fifty-four currently, and my dad is fifty-six. I don’t...I don’t think I’ll be able to meet my promise to them and I just...feel so guilty about being here and enjoying myself when they’re back there.”

The tears track down your face against, following those that had already come before and you sniff, the sound gross but you can’t help it. Hoseok’s got a frown on his face, not quite understanding.

“There’s still plenty of time to bring them here. You can do it, don’t put yourself down like that.” He starts but you shake your head, interrupting him.

“What’s the average age here in New Korea?” The frown on his face shows that he’s confused, but he answers slowly. He knows, you know that he knows it. With parents as influential as his, there’s no way he doesn’t. New Korea has a higher life expectancy than normal, with a woman living on average one hundred and thirty one years. Men live an average of one hundred and twenty nine years.

“Earth is sixty-four for a woman. Sixty-four Hoseok,” Your face crumples as you say it out loud finally, a sob choking in your throat. “According to the average she has ten years left. How am I meant to bring them here in 10 years? My dad has even less and he already has issues. They’re going to die in that shithole without ever getting to see anywhere else. Without getting to see a blue ocean or a blue sky. Never getting to breath air that isn’t polluted, go into a building that isn’t dirty and falling down. Never get to eat fresh meat or have fresh, real ice-cream. None of that. Because they spent their entire life working to get me here.”

Sniffling, you wipe at your nose once more and try to take a calming breath. You can tell that Hoseok doesn’t really know what to say, but you didn’t expect him to honestly. What could he say? He truly had no idea what life was like on Earth. Growing up there was one thing, but you’d escaped at eighteen. You were never going back. But they were never getting out.

“I’m sorry. I...I wish I had an answer for you. Some...some way to resolve it. I’d offer to pay but I get the feeling you wouldn’t really like that.” Looking at him, you shrug weakly and give him a limp smile.

“It’s my mom and dad. My only family. I think I’d do just about anything but that would definitely reinforce the idea that I’m just with you for your money. And...I’d feel too guilty towards you. That I’d have a debt to repay already. It’d make me feel like I was using you too.” Before you can even say anything more, Hoseok is shifting to face you properly.

“Okay, I’m going to say this nicely. You’re not with me for my money, and even if you are then I guess I’m an idiot because I don’t care. I offered this, you didn’t ask. You’re even turning me down. I have money Y/N, you know that. We both know my family probably has more money than sense and we don’t need it. Bringing your parents here? That’s probably the nicest thing we’ll do in years.” He sounds so honest and stern that you can’t help but pause, eyes tracking every minute expression of his face to see if he’s being truthful. 

And surprisingly, you get the sense that he is. Hoseok would probably transfer that money to you right now if you asked, but the shame and pride you have whirring inside you stops you from doing that. Instead, you just look down at where he’s taken your hand, uncaring if it’s covered in snot and tears.

“Your parents might not approve of that.” It wasn’t cheap moving someone from Earth to New Korea. Your flight had been paid for by a travel grant. Not to mention then they’d have to find somewhere to stay. They had no money saved up and they might not even be fit enough for jobs here. But it was still tempting. So tempting.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this...but I don’t really care what my parents think. My parents are...well they only really cared about themselves and their image I guess. The Jung name is the most important, you know? They cared about politics and making sure they had influence. I drove them up the wall when I showed zero interest in any of their stuff. Did my degree cos they wanted it and I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them if they were letting me go to New Seoul. This estate is nice and all but...it’s not really that nice when you never see your parents. They always had business to attend to, events to plan, events to go to, work to do or just...plain not caring about me.” You squeeze his hand, distraught at how callous they sound. Even though you’d grown up in the backwater of Earth, you knew that your parents would have died for you if they’d had to.

“They’re older by New Korea standards for parents. Too busy having social lives and influence I guess. Kids would have interrupted that. And then suddenly they realised that they had no heir so they tried for five years. Natural and artificial until finally...baby Hoseok arrived. And then they just couldn’t get pregnant after that. I was it. All they had. They wouldn’t even consider adoption. A Jung that’s not in the bloodline? Not acceptable. So yeah, I grew up being the family disappointment because I didn’t want to do what they did but they couldn’t turn me down or throw me out. Can’t disown me because then the family name dies. I’d enjoy getting stuff out of it if I didn’t feel like it was such a heavy burden.” 

He’s not looking at you now. Instead, his gaze is focused firmly out on the horizon and your heart clenches when you notice the bleak expression on his face. Now you understand why he’s never liked talking about his family.

You couldn’t even begin to understand his feelings towards his parents or the society he’d grown up in, but at the same time he couldn’t understand yours either. Which made you both kind of perfect in a way, as it meant you were both bridging the gap between each other’s worlds. 

“I think you’re perfect.” The words are a little limp, quietly spoken without you even meaning to but you can feel the honesty from deep within you as your grip tightens on his arm. It makes him smile though, no matter how lame it sounded and he kisses your forehead affectionately.

“Thank you. I think you’re perfect too,” He quietens momentarily, looking down and playing with the sand before taking a deep breath. “These last two months have been amazing. For once, I feel like someone likes me for just me. Not my family name or money or influence. Just me. Jung Hoseok. I feel like I could be the poorest person on this planet and you’d still look at me that way.”

“Because I would. You look at me the same way and I was the poorest person on the planet when I arrived. I came from nothing and I arrived with nothing really. Just some clothes packed up in an old bag that my parents had managed to scavenge from one of our neighbours and a pocket full of credits that they’d given me. I won’t lie that the idea of financial stability is attractive but...I’ve been in poverty before. Poverty to the levels no one understands here. I wouldn’t be happy if I was back there, but I’d at least be happy to have you.” That makes Hoseok make a quiet noise before he’s hugging you tightly, pressing overly exaggerated kisses to your head in an effort to lighten the mood and you can’t help but giggle as he rocks you from side to side.

“You can’t say things like that. It makes me feel all funny and then I’m definitely convinced that soulmates exist because there’s no way they don’t when you’re saying something that deep to me so soon and all I can think is to make heart eyes at you.” Snorting, you push his face away with one sand covered hand and watch in amusement as his expression contorts in disgust, spitting noises being made as he tries to rid himself of the sand that had fallen into his mouth.

The next few minutes is taken over by you both play fighting, getting your still wet clothes even more covered in the fine sand that you’d so loved at the beginning. You didn’t love it as much anymore, but that didn’t matter because you were making him smile and laugh again. The sound and sight filled you with such joy that you felt like you were floating.

It’s when he’s tickling you that you get the urge, laughing loudly at his touch. You get an odd out-of-body experience, like you’re looking at him from outside yourself and you see the most beautiful man ever. His skin is glowing fiercely in the slowly lowering sun while his black hair has highlights of soft brown from the gentle rays, his delicate half-moon eyes dancing in happiness while the roundness of his cheeks is higher than ever from the heart wrenching smile on his face.

If you had to spend twenty-three years seeing in black-and-white, you thought it was all worth it for this one moment. To watch him in glorious colour, so vibrant and full of life, against the backdrop of the jaw-droppingly beautiful vista of jutting mountains, luscious trees, the jewelled ocean and a sky that was beginning to streak beautifully with the rich, warm strokes of nature’s sunset.

“I love you.” It falls from your lips without you even realising it. Those three words, three syllables that mean something so deep and intense that has been said for centuries in hundreds upon hundreds of different languages across hundreds of planets and billions of people. Words that portray your feelings and yet can never adequately get across what you truly feel deep within, the well of sheer and intense emotion that still feels so young after only two months and yet so old that it almost makes your bones ache.

Hoseok stops moving, his face shocked for a second as his jaw drops open. But then you spot those sweet dimples indenting themselves in his cheeks, the way his full, pink lips begin to curve into that beautiful heart shaped smile that you’ve fallen for so quickly. The happiness that had been present in his eyes turns quickly to pure and unabashed joy. 

And then he’s kissing you, those lips soft and gentle against your own yet you feel the powerful force of his own emotions behind them. He pushes you backwards gently, the sand cushioning your body as he lays next to you, his torso leaning over just enough to keep the kiss going and you sighed into it, running your fingers through his sea salt encrusted hair gently. 

There’s no time wasted from him as he dips his tongue into your mouth quickly, the movement familiar after so many makeout sessions that your dates often devolved into. One hand cups your face so gently, his fingers stroking your skin tenderly and you suddenly feel the urge to cry at everything. Like the emotions and feelings are all too much.

Almost as if he recognises that, he lifts his head from you, the sound of your lips separating almost audible despite the crashing waves. Opening your eyes, you take in the sight of him in so much beautiful, luscious colour that only he had brought into your life. Lips that were swollen from the kiss, flushed a deep pink from the movement while the chocolate brown of his eyes has darkened as his pupils widened.

“I love you too. And I don’t care if anyone thinks that we’re rushing or any of that. I believe you, with this soulmate thing. I really do,” His thumb runs along your cheek gently and his eyes dart all over you. “I’ve never felt as at peace or as happy as I do with you. Might sound like a drama, but it’s true.”

“I get it. I do.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you give him the biggest smile that you can only hope shows even half of the pure ecstasy and joy that lights you up from within. There’s a moment’s pause before you’re simultaneously pulling him down while leaning up, meeting his lips once more in a kiss that you’ve grown addicted to.

At that moment, he moves to almost lay on top of you, the sand shifting beneath you as he does so and you gasp when it shifts enough to cause his hips to slide against yours firmly. It wouldn’t bother you normally, but this time you can feel that Hoseok is as happy and excited as you are.

Almost immediately he’s jerking away, eyes wide with worry as he holds his palm out in a calming gesture. Chest heaving ever so slightly, he wipes at his lips before reaching out and resting a hand on your knee. Despite everything, you don’t even hear him apologise as your eyes are focused solely on his groin.

It may be the 32nd century and clothing material may have been drastically improved over the centuries but they still couldn’t quite make anything that wouldn’t be painful and restraining for when a guy got an erection. Which meant that unfortunately, they still had the telltale tented pants when they were feeling frisky.

Or those awkward moments where they just randomly got hard. 

You knew that Hoseok probably wasn’t bothered about the erection itself. People in New Korea were more sexually liberal as you’d already discussed and those who grew up and lived in New Seoul were even more promiscuous than more rural areas or other cities. As such, you had no doubt that Hoseok didn’t give a flying fuck about it.

But he knew that you didn’t grow up like that and even though you lived with Taehyung, you still got a little shy about it. 

Not now though. Now you wanted him in all the ways possible, not just the soft and tender ways that you’d been experiencing.

“I want you.” You blurt out, looking up at him. For a few seconds he pauses, almost like the words are filtering in his brain but then his eyes widen and his jaw drops. It almost looks like he’s going to protest and you’re fascinated by the concept but then suddenly he’s standing, brushing the sand from his clothes before grasping your hand.

“We may be more sexually liberal here but our first sex is not going to be on a beach in public for everyone to see.” He says sternly and you feel your stomach drop with anticipation while your pussy clenches tightly at the thought. His words are so plain and blunt and you almost whine as he pulls you into a standing position, kissing once more before walking as quickly as he possibly can back towards the estate.

You’re almost dragged behind him, almost falling over multiple times as you struggle to balance properly in the sand. It was the strangest thing really, how it kept moving beneath your feet. A five minute walk on this beach made you feel like you’d run for ten minutes, and you were working with an Earth physique too.

Despite the sexual tension that was now bubbling over, your body hot with desire while his hand grips yours so tightly that you’re positive he’s just as warm with anticipation, you both can’t stop giggling at the way you struggle. Quick laughs are taken over by kisses peppered over your face, returned by you to him whenever he stops and leans towards you. More than once, you wrap your arms around his waist and simply enjoy a deep and delightful kiss, the cooling air rushing past you yet doing nothing to quell the flames of need.

Finally though, you both cross the rise and run towards the black gate that stands out so boldly against the white wall. You’re so enamoured by Hoseok that you don’t even notice the way his family estate rises so boldly behind the tall wall, it’s foundations deep and strong. All you see is Hoseok.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you had hormones racing through you, desperate to get your hands on the delightful body of your soulmate finally, then you might have taken more time to look around the house as he led you through it. Or maybe it was a good thing you’d been too absorbed in him, given the complete disparity in this house and where you’d grown up.

You don’t get to think of it though as soon enough, Hoseok is opening a door on the second floor and quickly pulling you through, closing and locking it behind him instantly. There’s a brief question of why he’s locking the door in an empty house but you don’t get to think of it as Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer before attaching his lips to your neck.

Almost immediately you sigh in delight, shifting your head back to give him better access as his kisses your sensitive skin. His experience shows clearly as he licks at you before blowing on it, the cooling sensation making you shudder before he laughs and tries his hardest to suck a bruise into you. All the while, his hands are slowly trailing along your skin beneath your shirt, the pads of his fingers soft and gentle yet firm when he grips at your ass.

“Hoseok…” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair before tugging a little, enjoying the whine he lets out before he finally lets you lift his head until he’s looking directly at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever been as turned on as you are right now, staring into an expression of pure lust and desire.

Slowly, you extricate yourself from his grip all the while fully ignoring his grumblings at the loss of you. And in carefully paced movements, you strip yourself of any clothes until you’re standing before him bare, the temperature of the room just warm enough to stop you from feeling chilled. But the goosebumps on your skin aren’t anything to do with temperature, nor the way your nipples peak almost painfully.

That’s everything to do with the hungry look in Hoseok’s eyes, the low growl that reverberates from his chest at the sight of you. You’ve never been this bold with sex before, even with Taehyung for whom sex was the most natural thing in the world. But there’s something about Hoseok that just commands you to move forward, to keep moving and take what you want.

Even now, in your vulnerable state, you feel safe and protected in his presence.

Carefully, you move backwards until your calves hit the tall bed that you’d spotted upon entering the room. It’s in a traditional style, with four dark wood posters reaching up towards the tall ceiling and an impossibly soft looking cover set covering the astonishingly large mattress. Of course a house like this would have a bed big enough to get lost in.

But you don’t care, keeping your gaze on Hoseok’s as you slowly make your way around to the open side of the bed, biting your lip as you crawled up onto the softness and simply kneeling there. Hoseok hasn’t moved once, only his eyes following you and you feel the pure desire for him to touch you.

So you reach out, hands palm up as you try your hardest to bring across your need for him. And he understands instantly, his hands working to throw his own clothes off with a haste that would almost make you laugh if you weren’t so turned on.

Instead, you watch hungrily as luscious golden skin is revealed, taught muscles and a perfectly formed body that makes your mouth water and your pussy clench in lust. Hoseok is taller than you and has the slightly leaner body structure that those on lower gravity planets had. It looked good on him.

He moves over to you quickly, cock bouncing with every stride from how unbelievably hard he was and you lick at your lips, grinning when he threads his fingers through your own. You don’t get to admire him anymore though as he leans forwards, latching his lips onto yours and you moan into his kiss, opening your mouth and letting him have his way with you. It’s nothing that you haven’t both already done before, but it almost feels like a tease of what’s to come, the way his tongue slides into your mouth while his hands tighten on your own has you gasping, thighs clenching together as an almost painful ache takes over between your legs.

You’re almost amused to find out that you’re impatient for him, the need for him to be inside you so strong. None of the other times you’d had sex had ever been like this. While you’d certainly enjoyed it, you hadn’t felt an all encompassing desire to have sex. Until now.

Falling backwards onto the bed, you forget about the disparity between your strengths and Hoseok pulls away from your mouth with a yelp as he almost crashes into you on the bed. What you’d thought had been a gentle, almost playful tug of his hands from you had actually been much stronger than you’d anticipated, your Earth heritage coming through and you immediately begin apologising.

He laughs though once recovered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before trailing slowly down your chest to your neglected nipples. Tongue swirling around one peak, Hoseok peaks up at you playfully, grinning despite what he’s doing with his pearly white teeth on full show.

“Someone forgot how strong they are huh?” He teases, sucking on the bud hard after speaking until you’re whining beneath him, body writhing in a movement that ends up with him perfectly on top of you and between your legs. The hardness of his erection pressing against your stomach is erotic, the heat of it causing more wetness to leak from you as you shift your hips in an effort to try and get him to slip inside.

But he thwarts your attempts, the husky laugh vibrating against your chest delightfully and you can’t help the smile at the sound. His happiness is infectious, particularly given how excited you are yourself. Hoseok doesn’t let you bring him back up though, instead he’s pressing butterfly kisses down your stomach, your muscles sucking in to try and hide them a little.

Despite your need for him and complete uncaring about your body at first, you still can’t deny the tiny voice in your head pointing out that you’re far heavier looking than most girls here on New Korea. Their lower gravity meant they all naturally looked slimmer than you anyway, but Hoseok doesn’t even pay attention to it. Instead he just lavishes your body with kiss upon kiss, focusing entirely on you without a care and you feel yourself relax a little in comfort with his attention.

“Hoseok, you don’t need to. We can just-” He interrupts you with a hard look, his hand moving to push your thighs apart as he finally reaches the place he wants. There’s a moment of stillness before he slowly lowers his face and you feel his tongue press against your pussy’s entrance firmly. He holds it there for a second before slowly dragging it up, the sensation wet and yet so unbelievably amazing.

His tongue is flat as it presses against the hood of your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves desperate for his attention but he doesn’t give it to you. Not yet. You’re not sure if he’s just teasing you or if it’s because he hasn’t found the spot to make you moan but you don’t care, can’t find it in yourself to care.

“I am not going to just stick my dick in you without any foreplay.” Hoseok says, his tone not allowing for anymore nonsense and you go hot at the steel in his voice. Part of you wants to go against him but you can just tell that you’ll get nowhere. So your jaw snaps shut, instead just watching as Hoseok gives a smirk of satisfaction before dipping his head back down.

It takes only a minute or so for him to actually find your clit with his talented tongue, a minute of him exploring you and taking in your taste before you jerk in pleasure. A deep hum leaves him as you do so, letting you know that he’s pleased himself by finding it and you spend the next few minutes being edged towards an orgasm so wonderfully by his hot, wet mouth.

You’re not sure if it’s because he has the experience and knowledge or if it’s because of whatever bond you have with him as your soulmate, but the pleasure he gives you seems to be double what you normally experience. Each ghostlike touch of his fingers as they dance along your inner thighs feels almost unbearable, each lap of his tongue on your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through your body that are more intense than you’ve ever experienced and you’re almost embarrassed by how slick you’ve become down there, inner muscles clamping in a painful ache around nothing.

“Hoseok please, god please,” You beg, voice high pitched and whiny as you gently tug at his hair. It takes a lot of effort to remember to be careful with him but you do, successfully getting him to look at you. “Please, I need you now. Please.”

He watches for a few seconds before grinning, pressing a kiss to the hair on your mound before making his way back up the bed. Glancing down, you bite your lip at the sight of straining erection, the tip of him flush with colour while a clear liquid drips from him in his excitement. It makes you feel even hotter, even more lustful for him and you’re running your hands along his body, memorising every part of him before you kiss him deeply.

Neither of you makes any effort to stop the kiss, enjoying the feelings and the sparks it generates. Until you feel the head of his cock pressing against your clit, his hips rocking ever so slightly to try and get what stimulation he can from you. Reaching down, you grasp him gently, enjoying the way he groans into your mouth and how his hips push forwards, rutting into your grip.

Squeezing him, you give him a few strokes, fully enjoying how hard he feels beneath your hand, the thickness of his girth and the pure heat of him. Finally though, you direct him to your sopping entrance, so unbelievably wet and slick in preparation for him. As soon as you feel the tip of him push into you, he takes over and surges forward.

Hoseok isn’t as big as Taehyung, but you hardly notice with the pure ecstasy that his cock produces in you. Your entire body shudders violently beneath him, the sensation of him rubbing against your sensitive walls overwhelming in a way you’d never experienced before and your head falls back into the pillow, ragged moans leaving your throat.

He’s not spared from it either, whatever special bond the two of you have that has made you both feel so happy and comfortable with each other apparently magnifying in the heat of sex. It’s unlike you’ve experienced before and you don’t complain when he begins thrusting immediately, the sharp slap of skin on skin loud in the room.

It’s almost drowned out by the hedonistic moans, groans and growls that escape your throats in the desperate pursuit you both have for an orgasm. The familiar tightness in between your legs seems to be bigger and tighter than you’ve ever felt before, stretched almost to breaking point and you heave breaths beneath Hoseok, hands scratching at his back desperately. The pleasure he’s giving you is almost too much, almost too painful for you to cope with and your mind can’t quite work out what’s going on.

“Fuck Hoseok, I...Hoseok...oh my g...uurgh please.” You beg incoherently, unaware of what you’re babbling to him. He’s moaning out your name and curse words in Korean that you don’t even understand, words you’ve never heard before. But you understand the meaning behind them, the pure need and strain in them as he fucks into you hard.

Your pussy clenches around him almost rhythmically, the friction his cock causes as he slides in and out of you in a smooth glide thanks to the obscene amount of slickness you’ve created causing more feelings than you’d ever experienced in sex before. Legs tightening, you almost feel a cramp in your thigh from how hard you’re holding your muscles in your body, gasped moans encouraging him forward.

And then he brings a hand to your pussy, fingers coating themselves in your sticky wetness before he fumbles for a few seconds, looking for something. The way you cry out, body spasming on him let him know that he’s found what he wanted and those talented fingers continue to rub at your clit, quick little circles in a rhythm that has your breath stuttering.

 “Come on baby, come for me. Come on. I know you can.” He whispers into your ear, kissing along the sweat soaked skin there before trailing his lips along your jaw. His hair is jet black once more, only the wetness now has been caused by the sweat of effort and sex. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a sexier sight and moan, the combination of it all finally spiralling you into what had to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life.

For a few seconds, you can’t think even properly, your mind whiting out and your hearing going fuzzy. You momentarily wonder what’s gone on before the blazing heat of your orgasm overloads the nerves of your body, your pussy spasmodically tightening on Hoseok’s cock in a way that has him whining out in dual need and agony. There’s no controlling your strength here, and as the blistering pleasure begins to subside, aftershocks ricocheting through you, you realise that Hoseok’s probably never fucked someone so tight as you right now. 

Sure enough, he comes almost instantly once you begin to wind down, the vice your inner muscles made on his cock too good for him to be able to last any longer. Hips stuttering violently, a deep groan that borders on a growl is dragged from what sounds like the very pit of his stomach, entire body shaking as you feel his cock twitch with each pulse inside you.

Humming in delight, you watch him through tired eyes as his face scrunches up, giving away every single thing he’s feeling. It causes a surge of pride inside you to see it, to know that you’ve caused that and you run your fingers through his hair, messing up the strands. It brings him back to you though, his gaze almost lazy as he finally slows to a halt inside you.

The two of you are breathing heavily, as if you’d just run a marathon in forty degree heat but there’s a feeling of satisfaction in the air. Taking in his face, watching as a bead of sweat track down his temple, you feel more in love with him than ever.

Fully aware it’s probably just the after effects of the sex, the incredibly good sex, you nonetheless bathe in the sensation as he gives you a tired smile. The kiss you both share now is almost sluggish, your energy gone but it feels so incredibly intimate after what you’d just done, with him still buried inside you.

“Fucking hell, if that’s what our first time is like…” Hoseok trails off, pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you. That toned stomach you’d admired so much before is breathing heavily, lungs sucking in breath in an attempt to recover from the frenzied workout he’d just had.

Like everything else so far, it had been quick and intense but you already knew that you wouldn’t change it for the world. Rolling to your side, you smile at him before kissing his shoulder and then resting your head on it.

“I look forward to us in the future then.” You tease him lightly, running your fingers along his chest and causing him to shiver. The temperature in the room was perfect before, but now it feels almost cold as you both begin to cool down.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok grins, looking at you with mischief in his eyes. “Do you wanna shower? I swear you’ve never seen a bathroom till you’ve seen this one.” 

Pushing up onto your elbow, you raise an eyebrow at him in interest, pursing your lips. “Oh yeah? Big enough for two?”

“Oh baby...how naive you are. Let me educate you in the ways of rich people having way too much fucking money and not enough sense.”

-

Waking up the next morning is the most luxurious thing in the world. The bed is just as unbelievably comfortable as you’d first thought and the pillow beneath your head is so soft that you’re tempted to just let yourself drift back off into sleep.

This is truly a luxury that you’ve never even considered before and part of you wants to ask Hoseok if you can have this bed. Not that it’d fit in your apartment but still.

But what really makes it all feel so much better is the warm presence behind you, the solid arm slung over your waist and the gentle puffs of breath that tickle the back of your neck. Groaning quietly, you stretch and enjoy the way you ache delightfully all over, the slightest soreness between your legs as your muscles relax once more.

The two of you had indeed enjoyed his astonishingly large bathroom and you’d discovered that shower sex really wasn’t as fun as it looked. Taehyung had told you that once but you hadn’t believed it. You did now, particularly given Hoseok had accidentally thrust so hard that you’d lost balance, taking the two of you down onto the slick tiled floor. 

Thankfully, as Hoseok had said, the shower was ridiculously large and so the two of you had been safe from any real damage. That hadn’t stopped you from feeling embarrassed of course, but Hoseok had simply laughed and kissed you, taking the opportunity to enjoy one of the benefits of his family's wealth as he pulled you on top of him.

It hadn’t been the most comfortable sex you’d ever had, but you’d enjoyed it all the same.

You finally understood though what Taehyung had talked about when he’d discussed the honeymoon phase of a relationship because you didn’t want to take your hands off Hoseok. It was like the sex had unleashed a primal desire within you to have him as many times as was physically possible.

Which meant that this morning, you were aching but also feeling exceptionally fulfilled. 

Twisting around, you take in the sight of Hoseok fast asleep beside you. His expression is gentle, almost innocent looking in his sleep and you take him in with unhidden delight. The rays of sun peeking through the gauzy curtains that hang over the large bay windows streak over his face, lighting his skin from within to give him a healthy glow.

Dark hair is splayed across the pillow and you have no doubt that he’s probably going to get up with some serious bedhead. Equally dark lashes flutter slightly as his eyes move beneath his closed eyelids, breath a little faster suddenly as he twitches and you smile as you watch him wake.

Neither of you had slept in a bed together so far. You’d fallen asleep on each other occasionally sure, but that had almost been on a couch or something. The bed had felt a step too far.

You almost understood why now, 

Because you weren’t sure you would ever let him go now that you’d been so intimate with him, now that you’d slept beside him and experienced what a night with your soulmate was like. Even though you were tired, you felt so refreshed and just...happy.

Like he’d somehow rejuvenated your senses and mind. You were positive that if you told Taehyung this that he’d roll his eyes and laugh, telling you that you sounded like some kind of sappy romance writer and that it was probably all in your head.

And maybe it was, but even so. It felt so good.

Bringing your hand up, you let your fingers run along the smooth skin of his rounded cheek, taking in every centimetre of his face while you had the time. His lips were pursed in a pout, their soft pinkness not as swollen as last night when he’d kissed you like his life depended on it.

Gently, you slide your thumb over the softness of his lower lip, enjoying how it felt before you move to his nose, trailing the pad of your finger down the elegant slope of his nose. Lips quirking into an awed smile, you simply watched him as you took in his regal features and felt that familiar bubble of marvel that you’d found him. 

Out of the entire galaxy, with the odds of a whole universe against you, you’d found your soulmate. And he was everything you had imagined and so much more.

“Mmm, if you keep doing that I’m going to have to repeat last night.” He murmurs suddenly, his voice so unbelievably deep and husky from the deep sleep he’d been awoken from. Grinning, you rest your palm on his cheek and kiss the tip of his nose, careful to avoid his breath or let him smell your own.

As much as you love him, you don’t think you’d love the smell of his breath in the morning. Society still hadn’t figured out a cure for that unfortunately.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind that.” You tease him lightly, thumb stroking and you feel something joyful blossom in your heart as he tilts his head into your hand, shifting until he can kiss the palm of your hand affectionately.

“Oh I would, but we weren’t meant to stay here last night and I think we need to get back. Someone doesn’t have any clothes here.” His eyes open and that, the deep brown dark against the whites of his eyes and you chuckle with a shrug.

Sitting up, you take a moment to stretch once more and sigh in relief at the feel of your muscles relaxing from the stiffness of sleep. True to his word, you were currently as naked as the day you’d been born.

Hoseok had run downstairs last night to get your clothes washed for today, the material stiff at the time with dried saltwater from the ocean. You’d both chosen to sleep with nothing as Hoseok didn’t even have clothes here anymore, a sensation you weren’t used to but that felt oddly liberating.

The covers of the bed slip down to your waist and you exhale deeply, looking over to the large windows with curiosity. You hadn’t bothered to look last night, too enamoured with Hoseok and sex at first and then it had simply been too dark to see anything later.

But now, now you can see it and your eyes widen as you realise what you’re looking at.

Slipping out of bed, you pause for a moment as you feel the vulnerability of your nakedness. Shifting slightly, you look back at Hoseok only to see that his eyes are closed once more. Chuckling to yourself, you move over to the curtains and peek through them carefully.

Hoseok’s bedroom apparently faces the ocean and your jaw drops as you take in the view. It’s the bay that you’d both enjoyed yesterday, the sea shimmering in it’s luscious greens and blues while the deep emerald of the forests on the mountains provide the perfect contrast.

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me this was your bedroom view!” You say loudly, pushing the curtains aside as you realise there’s no one to see your nakedness. Opening the doors that make up the windows, you push them to the side and lean against the metal barrier that prevents you from falling out and take it all with greedy eyes.

Almost immediately you’re hit with the soothing sound of the crashing waves and your eyes close as you take it in with a smile, the unique scent of the ocean filling your nose as a warm breeze rolls by. You’re not sure that you’ve ever felt so at peace somewhere before than you do here, with the strong mountains and the serene ocean.

“I forgot honestly.” Hoseok’s voice is close and you turn slightly, finding him almost directly behind you. The sun makes him almost look like some ancient god and you feel your mouth dry at the sight of him, his skin so vibrant and the tone of his muscles making you want to reach out and touch him.

Though that’s not what distracts you the most though. No, that would be the sight of a very proud erection jutting out from the dark pubic hair, cock quivering slightly as it fights gravity and your brow quirks up in amusement.

Looking up into his eyes, you ask him the question silently and he just grins, shrugging without a hint of shame or embarrassment.

“What can I say? I’m looking at my very naked, very beautiful soulmate standing in front of one of the most astonishing views on the whole planet. Forgive me for being a little turned on.” Laughing, you don’t protest as he moves forward to you and turns you around so you’re both facing the ocean once more.

His lips press to your neck in gentle kisses while one hand shifts down your body dangerously, meeting the hair that nestles between your legs and dipping beneath. The touch of his fingers against the hood of your clit has you sighing, legs shifting slightly to give him better access and you feel the whisper of a laugh against you.

“I thought we don’t have time?” You ask breathlessly, the ghost of a moan in your voice as he darts his fingers lower, coating himself in the slickness that somehow is already present despite the short amount of time since this started. Maybe it’s just because of who and what he is to you that he has you so turned on so quickly.

“We’ll just make time.”

-

It’s over forty-five minutes later when you both finally get downstairs, now fully clothed and clean again after yet another shower. Hoseok had promised you that there would be food in the kitchen as apparently they had house staff who kept the estate operational at all times in case anyone wanted to come back.

That had made you pause and he’d rolled his eyes, saying it was a family thing that he thought was excessive but he still appreciated it at moments like this. You couldn’t find an argument with that when your stomach rumbled, the two of you realising that you hadn’t bothered to eat much yesterday and so you were both determined to have a big, hearty breakfast to make up for all the...exercise you’d both done.

Following Hoseok down the ridiculously large staircase, you almost walk into him as he stops suddenly halfway down, yelping as you struggle to balance before resting your hands on his back. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he suddenly speaks and you go cold.

“Mom. Dad.” Without even a word to you, you can feel the tension in his body as the muscles of his back go stiff, his shoulders rising ever so slightly. The anxiety in your stomach bubbles at the realisation that his parents are here, but there’s also a worry about how he’s reacting.

From what he’d told you yesterday, and what you’d gathered previously full stop, you got the distinct impression that Hoseok and his parents didn’t get along with each other. And now you were, in their fancy estate with their only son.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in Korean, the Korean that they use here rather than the one you’d learnt back on Earth, his tone so blunt that you’re pretty sure he could have hammered a nail with it and you cringe slightly. Even you recognised the belligerence in him and you wonder if you’re going to have to be witness to a fight between them both.

That was an alien concept to you, as you’d never witnessed your own parents fight. Nor had you fought with them.

“What are you doing here? Why are you not at the university?” A crisp voice responds, the tone light and feminine yet filled with an underlying steel. It makes your stomach sink to hear it and you swallow hard. “And who is that with you?”

Hoseok stiffens even more if possible and your hands tighten on his shirt, knuckles pressing into his back in simultaneous comfort and concern. He doesn’t bring you out from behind him though, not immediately.

“It’s university mom, not a job. I don’t have to always be there.” It’s confusing to you why they’re being so...harsh with each other. Even with the animosity he harbours towards them, you can’t imagine ever being like this with your own parents.

“What are we paying for then if you’re swanning around the planet like you own the place? And who is that? Who have you brought into our home?” You almost feel sorry for whoever she works with in the education system as you can practically hear the underlying ‘I’m right no matter what’ in her voice. It’s a wonder that Hoseok has grown to be so friendly and warm in comparison.

What’s even more surprising is that you haven’t heard his dad speak at all. Maybe he’s more diplomatic given his career in politics.

“Firstly, I do technically own this place. It’s a family home, not your home solely. And second of all,” He hesitates for a moment before he turns slightly, giving you a small smile that told you so much before he grasps your hand, threading his fingers with your own and squeezing gently before moving to let you be seen better. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. I brought her here to see the ocean and beach.”

Your first thought upon seeing his parents is that Hoseok got his mother’s eyes and his father’s nose. They’re both astonishingly beautiful, which doesn’t surprise you at all given how exquisite Hoseok had turned out. It also isn’t a surprise given they’re rich and influential. You highly doubt that people like that married those who weren’t equally as beautiful.

Your second thought is that they don’t even remotely look like parents. Which is stupid, because anyone can be a parent obviously. But you just get the aura of them that there’s not a single maternal or paternal instinct in them both. Which given what Hoseok had said about his childhood, makes a lot of sense.

His mother is dressed in a white pant suit, the lines of her trousers crisp with not a hint of dirt on her. Her hair has obviously been dyed a luscious hazelnut brown and there’s a few signs of age hidden beneath the veneer of perfectly done make up. Lines that not even the best medical technology or make up can get rid of without it looking artificial.

She’s quite possibly one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen but she’s also one of the most intimidating. Her stare is as cold as ice, those red lips turned down at the very edges in disapproval as she scans over your body slowly. An elegant white bag that is probably made out of real leather is hung delicately over her arm, understated in a way that made it clear it cost money while her wedding ring on her finger is large, the multi-coloured rock of what had to be pure enchantium glittering in the light.

His dad is equally intimidating, his own attire a match to hers only in black. Black slacks matched with a black button up shirt, his own hair allowed to grey in that way that men can get away with. He looks ever so slightly kinder than Hoseok’s mom, but you don’t trust that at all. Given his career, he could be a viper in disguise.

Swallowing hard, you find yourself gripping Hoseok’s hand even tighter in a fear you hadn’t even realised you truly had. You’d always known Hoseok was far richer than you, that he came from a wealth you couldn’t possibly understand and a social standing that was a foreign concept to you.

But it was entirely different seeing it like this, being stood in the centre of a ridiculous grand staircase in a mansion that was as beautiful as it was overwhelming in its subtle wealth. You hadn’t queried it last night, but a quick glance around told you that everything in this entrance hallway alone was probably worth more than the apartment you’d grown up in.

And that said nothing of the chandelier that hung above it all, glittering in an astonishingly beautiful sight that you couldn’t even begin to properly comprehend. The expense of just that alone had to eye watering and with all this combined with the frozen aura of his parents, you realised just how big the gap between you both was.

Still though, you had to try. You’d managed to get yourself here with pure effort and hard work, fighting against odds that were impossible to understand. You deserved to be here.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Every bit of politeness you have goes into your tone as you speak Standard to them and you give them a smile, trying your hardest to look warm and welcoming to them. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they don’t react.

“Come into the dining room. We had breakfast prepared before we arrived. I would like to talk to you both further.” His mother states before turning and walking away. Hoseok’s dad watches you quietly for a moment before inclining his head with a slight smile and following his wife.

Once they’ve both gone, Hoseok turns to you and cups your face immediately, fingers stroking at your cheeks while a distressed look takes over his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here, I swear. I did not want you to meet them like this.”

Carefully, you give him a smile and take his fingers, pressing a kiss to the pads of his fingers one by one before sighing. Looking back in the direction where they’d both gone, you swallowed thickly and took a deep and fortifying breath.

“Okay, we can do this. We can do this right? It’s just breakfast.” Hoseok lets out a harsh laugh, his face turning ugly for a second.

“Yeah, breakfast with my parents. I don’t even fucking like being near them. They’re...it’s not going to be nice. I wish I could say otherwise but it’s the truth. And I just want to apologise beforehand for anything they say.” His voice is soft and gentle, a deeply hidden pain buried within it and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your head to his chest while you squeeze him tightly.

“It’s okay. Honestly. I grew up on Earth...anything they throw at me is nothing compared to that. Let them try.” Looking up at him, you rest your chin on him and beam up at him brightly, hoping to brighten his mood. He stares down at you for a few seconds before chuckling reluctantly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you. Just...remember that.” Nodding, you let go of him and retake his hand, following carefully as he leads you through the maze like hallways of the house. As he goes, you take the time to take it all in, acknowledging how bright and big it all seems. It’s tastefully decorated, but you suppose that would be expected with his family.

 Finally though, you come to a room that’s even more astonishing than everything else. The ceilings are high, painted the same white as everywhere else that makes it all seem so much larger than it actually is while the centre is taken up with a long table, elegant chairs pushed in while his parents sit at one end.

You almost want to laugh at how large it is, the dark table made from real wood that must be native to the planet given the purple tint to it. They’re a family of three but you’d think Hoseok had ten siblings given the size of this table. 

But you don’t give in to that urge though, instead putting on a carefully neutral smile and following your boyfriend as he moves towards the table. There’s a spread of breakfast on top that makes your eyes widen despite yourself, the sheer amount of food astonishing given that they didn’t even know Hoseok was coming.

It all seemed far too much, and you wondered if they actually would eat it all if Hoseok and you were not here. The idea of wasting all of that made you cringe, nose wrinkling ever so slightly as you sat in the seat that Hoseok offered to you. He took the one next to you, closest to his father who sat at the head of the table while his mother sat opposite him.

Everything felt very awkward and you wondered how you were supposed to react. Was there special instructions on how to eat? Did you have to use certain cutlery to eat certain foods? You had no idea what to do and your hand rested on Hoseok’s thigh without even meaning to, your anxiety calming slightly at the feel of him.

“So, where are you from?” His dad asked politely. You were relieved to see that he at least had the decency to plaster a smile on his face, even if it was one of those blatantly fake ones that politicians mastered in their lifetime. 

“I’m...I’m from Earth. I got into New Seoul University four years ago and moved here then, enrolling in the education department. I met Hoseok properly two months ago.” You’re not sure which bit is the one that causes Hoseok’s mother to wrinkle her nose in what you presume to be disgust but you carefully bite your tongue, smiling at Hoseok as he quietly asks if you’d like something off the plate he’s holding.

There’s nothing for a few minutes as you prepare your breakfast from the available foods, making sure to not look like you’re eating too much while making sure that you actually have enough to fulfil you. Hoseok is stiff next to you, his unhappiness so obvious to you that you wonder if it’s equally as obvious to them. 

And then, his mom says something that leaves you stunned.

In Korean, or the New Korean that you’d had to study so hard over the last few years, she asks Hoseok something with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face. Something that leaves you shocked and Hoseok fuming beside you.

“Earth? Really? We’re not paying for you to be educated if you’re going to slum it with some backwards girl like this. Break it off with her today, this is just embarrassing to you and to us. Think of what it would do to our family image to have you associated with someone from Earth of all places. What do you think we are Hoseok? A charity? We raised you better than this, to have better standards. Your obsession with that cesspit is becoming too much.” Hoseok’s jaw drops at that, his hands fisting around his cutlery so tight that his fingers turn white.

You can’t even find it in yourself to say anything, understanding that she was at least having the decency to say this in a language she didn’t think you’d understand. But the fact she was still doing it in front of you was beyond mind boggling and straight into the realm of ‘holy fuck’.

And despite all that, her words hit every anxiety that you had deep inside you. Every worry that you’d buried deep when you’d realised that Hoseok was a sweet and kind guy who seemed to be unaware of the differences between you both. Because no matter what he thought, the rest of society would have a different opinion.

“First of all, you’re not paying for my education in order for me to date anyone, so why does that matter? Second of all, that’s where she grew up. If you’d take your head out of your ass and actually asked her, then you’d realise that she grew up in Old Korea. You know, our ancestral homeland? More than that, I don’t give a fuck about our family image. That’s all you guys. And finally...she can speak Korean.” He shoves a piece of fruit into his mouth after that, glaring intently at them as he chewed furiously.

His mother’s face pales slightly as she looks at you, shock the first time you’d seen something beyond disgust and the careful expression of neutrality on her. You’d almost be amused if it wasn’t for the fact that you knew she was only shocked because she was probably embarrassed at being found out like that.

But you decide to be diplomatic, recognising that Hoseok was evidently the one who was going to be battling with them today. Instead, you wanted to take the approach of trying to be sweet and kind with them, even if stuck in your throat that you had to do that when she’d been so blatantly insulting. 

Sure, Earth was a backwards shithole but it had been your backwards shithole.

And besides all that, you just really hated their belittling of your soulmate. You got the distinct impression from only five minutes with them that this was common. His mom didn’t even seem offended by his harsh words.

“Well...why didn’t you state you could speak Korean?” His mom asks bluntly, a frown marring her brow in obvious disapproval. Swallowing the harsh retort you wanted to say, you instead plastered a neutral smile onto your face and gave a delicate shrug of your shoulders.

“My apologies. Most people just speak Standard to me here at the university so I’ve gotten used to it. I grew up with Korean back in Old Korea, but upon arriving here I discovered that the centuries of separation have changed the language so I had to relearn. I’m sorry if I appeared rude, it wasn’t my intention.” There, that was nice and polite.

You got the sense that Hoseok was pissed that you had to be that polite and before any of you could say anything, he suddenly spoke again.

“Did you know that she can also speak fluent English and Spanish alongside standard, New Korean and Old Korean? Or that she got better grades than me? Or that she managed to overcome unbelievable odds to get here? She’ll be graduating this year in the top 1% of her class and has already been accepted for a graduate degree. On top of all that, she works hard to maintain her grades while also working to save money,” Hoseok looked at you then, pride in his eyes. “She’s the perfect example of someone who works hard and makes it through effort. Not just being born into it.”

The silence that falls over the room is beyond awkward and you shuffle slightly, feeling flushed with embarrassment at his words. You weren’t embarrassed over him being proud of your effort, in fact you were happy that he’d remembered everything you’d told him. No, it was the ugly look on his parents faces.

“Yes well, I suppose it’s easy to do well when everyone feels sorry for you.” His dad said suddenly and you looked at him in surprise, shocked that he’d think that way. He catches this and shrugs, taking a deep swallow of juice before carefully placing the glass back down. “It’s true. You’re a novelty here and no one wants to be the one to send the girl from Earth back.”

Jaw clenching you try hard to clamp down on your temper but Hoseok beats you to it, slamming his fork down onto the table so loud that you jump.

“For your information, father, essays and exams are anonymous. They have no idea who it came from. You know that, after all, it was mother who helped to implement that standard,” He glares at his mother who sniffs in response. “And secondly, stop being so fucking rude. I thought we cared about our family image?” 

His voice is so pedantic here that you almost want to laugh, Hoseok’s facial expression twisting almost comically as he parodies them. Both of their faces convulse grossly, unhappiness evident and you feel Hoseok take your hand tightly.

“Jung Hoseok, don’t you swear at us.” His dad grates out and Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck. What are you gonna do? Disown me? You can’t, you have no other heirs because you waited too long and you were too snobby to adopt. I have no cousins so our name dies with me. Disown me if you want, I don’t give a fuck. But I’m not going to sit here and subject my soulmate to the two of you.” He goes to move then when his mother lets out a bark of laughter, causing you both to pause and look at her.

“Soulmate? Is that what she’s fed you? Is that how you’ve managed to latch onto him so fiercely? I thought you were smarter than that Hoseok. Instead, apparently you’re too busy thinking with another body part to realise how you’ve been led along by someone who probably only wants to make sure she’s well off. Soulmates, are you stupid?” She spits, tone venomous and eyes equally hard.

You want to respond when Hoseok holds up a hand up to you, his face suspiciously calm and you frown at him. There’s a moment of silence in the room, everyone waiting for the next harsh words to be spoken and you quietly take a sip of your juice in an effort to just do something.

“I can see colour. Your hair is brown mom, with a slight red tint to it. Dad, the apples you’re eating this morning are a wonderfully rich red, almost purple in shade. The Earth mangoes also look particularly ripe today. I believe that being this orange means that they’ll be very sweet, yes? Though this one probably isn’t the best given it’s more green.” He finishes, glaring at them both and they stare at him in shock.

But he doesn’t let them speak, his underlying anger and disgust bubbling over. “I first saw colour over two months ago when I touched Y/N. She saw colour for the first time too. I don’t care what you believe or what you think, nor am I going to explain why I believe that she’s my soulmate. You don’t really care. All I will say is, I don’t want to talk to either of you again. Not until you’re willing to apologise for what you’ve said today and accept my girlfriend, because I will not be leaving her. Not for you, not for anyone. Disown me if you want, I’ve already said. I don’t care. I’ve had enough of you both over the years and I’ll be damned if I let you both walk all over me in this regard. It has nothing to do with you and it never will.” 

They don’t speak for a few moments, eyes wide before his mother’s gaze hardens. “Fine, we won’t cut you out. Like you said, we can’t. But as long as you’re going to slum it with her, we won’t talk to you. As per your wishes. I feel like this has been a long time coming Hoseok.”

He snorts at that, rolling his eyes and standing abruptly. “Yeah, it really has. And it feels fucking amazing. Goodbye.”

You follow him as he almost storms out of the room, eyes wide in confusion as to the sudden events that have occured. Glancing back into the dining room, you note that his mother is stony faced while his father looks a little more uncomfortable, almost unhappy with what’s just happened.

Grasping Hoseok’s hand, you practically run after his long strides, almost giggling at how much faster you catch up to him. But then you see his face, the pain in it and you stop, biting your lip and climbing into the air car with him quietly.

For a good ten minutes, neither of you says anything and you simply stroke his hand reassuringly. Guilt bubbles in your stomach, causing you to look down unhappily as you wonder how everything had just happened like this. So fast as well.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper gently, licking at your lips. Almost immediately though, Hoseok is cupping your face and kissing you softly, his movements so much sweeter than the harsh and uncaring man you’d just witnessed in the dining room.

“Don’t ever say sorry for them. As my mom said, this was a long time coming. We haven’t been able to meet and not have an argument for the last few years anyway. It annoys them I don’t care about the same stuff they do. And I’ll be damned if I let them push you away with their horrible ways.” You can tell by his face that he means every word, but the very idea of pushing your parents away like this is so alien to you that you almost can’t believe it.

“But...I mean...you’ll talk again, right? They’re your parents.” Hoseok lets out a laugh, his face softening as he looks at you so fondly. Any anger he’d been feeling has evidently vanished and you revel in the attention he gives so you willingly.

“They’re not my parents. Parents are what you have, people who love you so deeply that they’d give up everything for you to make sure you’re happy. Mine are just the people who created me. They’ve never shown any interest in me, I was raised by staff. I’m not a person to them, I’m just the heir to their fortune and name.” It’s a concept you just can’t really understand, your mind refusing to wrap around the words.

You can’t even begin to imagine your own parents acting like that, even though they had nothing to give. To know that his parents had everything and yet had given their son nothing that he actually wanted was horrifying.

“I’m sorry Hoseok, you deserve better.” He smiles and shrugs, his expression a little sad. Leaning forward, he kisses your forehead and remains there for a moment, nose pressed to your hairline as he simply breathes you in.

“I do. And I have. I’ve got you now. You’ve shown me more love and affection in two months than they have in twenty-four years. I’m okay, I’m used to it. I just...are you okay? Please don’t believe what they said. They have a public persona that’s much nicer and sweeter than their real identity, as you saw. Don’t believe anything, you’re so much better than what they said.” 

Watching him over quietly, you give him a small smile before moving to sit in his lap. He chuckles at the movement, arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you kiss him sweetly. The air car complains at the sudden double weight of his seat but he turns the alarm off, both of you well aware that he’s now breaking the law.

But you don’t care at the moment, too busy hugging him and just being content in his presence. 

“I won’t. I can tell when someone’s saying something to just be mean. Like I said...I grew up on Earth. They have to try a lot harder to truly hurt me.” You say lightly, grinning at him before burrowing your face into his neck. He squeezes you tightly and sighs, the both of you settling into a gentle peace. “My parents will love you, I swear.”

“I have zero doubt of that, not when they did so much for you. I can’t wait to meet them.” That makes your stomach twist and tumble in excitement, the feelings buzzing through your body and you hug him harder.

“We’ll be okay, right?” You’re not sure what you mean by that, but you feel the sudden urge to ask him. The knowledge that his parents didn’t approve of you wasn’t surprising, but his willingness to cut them out of his life so quickly was. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, given what he’d told you yesterday and the way he’d avoided talking about them for so long now.

“We’ll be okay. I promise. I’m happy with you, happier than I’ve ever been. I swear.” He kisses your forehead once more, nuzzling against you and you sigh in contentment, the feeling of bliss rolling through your body at his touch.

“I’m happy with you too.”

-

Fifteen Years Later 

The sun is high today, without a hint of any wispy white clouds to block some of the intense rays for a few minutes. It’s the middle of summer in Sejong, the days long and bright with a temperature that made you want to stay inside the air conditioned house all day long. But at the same time, the gentle breeze that blew in from the sea helped to cool the air, the scent of salt pleasant while the distant lapping waves created a calming soundtrack.

Walking out of the house that borders the beach, the home that Hoseok’s ancestors had so carefully built and maintained over the centuries, you smile brightly at the scene in the extensive garden.

The tall white walls surrounded the whole boundary of the Sejong estate, protecting it from prying eyes and providing a safe space for anyone who came here. Carefully maintained green grass that had been imported from Earth a long time ago gleamed a beautiful emerald while tall trees with the indigo stain of the native New Korean trees stood proudly amongst the lawn, their towering branches providing much needed shade.

You’d been bemused by their colouring when you’d finally been able to see colour. Even though you’d never seen brown before, or even really proper trees back on Earth, you’d grown up being told that trees had brown trunks. It had been unusual that the indigo bark had been hard to get your head around given you’d never seen anything else. 

Glittering violet leaves shifted in the low wind and you inhaled deeply, the succulent scent of those special flowers that Hoseok’s mom had planted so extensively throughout the estate today smelling of luscious strawberries. Real strawberries too, not the fake crap you’d grown up with.

The sound of laughter distracts you from the nature around you, your gaze immediately being drawn to the colourful play equipment that had been set up in the very centre of the garden. Pure white sand took up a square in the middle of the grass and slides, swings and more was set up in this small play area, a traditional way for children to play in this modern era.

Your seven-year-old son was the source of the laughter, his giggle so sweet and high that it made your heart clench. Watching as he throws a handful of sand into the air, you can’t help but smile as you see your soulmate in him so strongly. Even from here, you know that his eyes would be the same half-moons of delight that Hoseok’s got when he was happy.

A shout of annoyance came from your four-year-old daughter, her small hands pressed to her hips as she scowled at her older brother. She was at that age where she wanted to follow her brother around all the time to play but he was fast approaching that strange age in childhood where they didn’t want to play with their siblings anymore.

Especially not a little sister who clung to his every movement. 

Sarang shrieks in anger when Hajoon runs away from her, his longer legs letting him climb the ladder to the wooden playhouse quicker than her. You go to put a stop to their fighting, as usual, but you’re beaten to it by the elderly lady who tuts at them both in stern amusement.

“You two...stop fighting.” Your mom says, running her fingers through Sarang’s dark hair while she gestures at Hajoon who leans dangerously over the railing. He says something back to her but you can tell it’s nothing mean and you sigh quietly, looking to your side as she manages your children.

Your dad is sitting in his usual comfortable chair on the extended porch, safely in the shade but able to enjoy the weather, smells and the sight of his grandchildren without having to move. Which you’re glad of, because despite your hopes, the medical staff here on New Korea hadn’t been able to do anything for him in regards to his legs.

Hoseok had been true to his word fifteen years ago, looking into how he could bring your parents to your new home to live out their final years with you. He hadn’t let you know he was doing it, or that he’d even been in contact with them.

All you’d known was that a year later, you had been undertaking your graduate degree and Hoseok had begun working at one of his father’s companies after they had finally begun talking again. Their communications were still icy cold, but you got the sense that his dad cared more than his mom. The two of you had moved into his apartment in downtown New Seoul, an expensive building that you would have had no chance of beforehand.

And then suddenly, one day you’d come home to find your parents sitting in the living room with a smiling Hoseok. There had been a moment of complete disbelief before you’d burst into tears, running over to them both and almost choking them in tight hugs. Neither of them had complained though, instead just hugging you back just as tightly as they cried themselves.

In the five years since you had left Earth, they had aged dramatically and part of you had wondered whether Hoseok had brought them here to die within a year. Their hair had greyed quickly while the wrinkles in their skin had deepened. Despite all that though, you had been so unbelievably happy that they were finally there with you.

Hoseok had confirmed that he’d managed to get them the citizenship that you’d only just acquired last year, pulling more than a few strings with some of the family friends he knew. It had been a blatant abuse of power, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain. Not when your parents had finally left Earth and that your promise had been fulfilled.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they had become completely taken with Hoseok. It had been a bizarrely amusing situation for you in which your own parents, who had been so far away, became the rocks that Hoseok and you had relied on when times get tough. His own parents had remained very distant after the whole debacle of your first meeting; Hoseok had still yet to forgive them even now.

Despite being unable to help your father with his legs, the doctors here had been able to extend your parents lives a little further than should have been possible on Earth. The combination of medicine, clean air, healthy living, no work and good food meant that they had slowly come back to life before your eyes.

A regimented skin care routine that your mother had discovered was slowly reducing the wear and tear on her skin while your father simply enjoyed not being run ragged by work. Fifteen years later, they were still here and going on strong.

It brought you to tears sometimes to know that not only had they escaped from Earth finally, but they had been at your wedding to Hoseok and had then been lucky enough to witness their grandchildren being born and growing up. All of this, because of your wonderful soulmate and two parents who had refused to let you stagnate on a dying planet.

Two arms wrap around your waist from behind, a warm body pressing against your back while petal soft lips pressed against your temple. Grinning broadly, you rest your hands on his own and tilt your head back to take in the still beautiful sight of your husband; the love of your life and your soulmate.

He smiled back at you sweetly, contentment on his face as he pressed a kiss to your lips and you sighed happily. The two of you had decided to move to the Sejong estate after Sarang’s birth just over four years ago. While you both loved New Seoul, you’d desperately wanted your children to grow up with everything you hadn’t.

Which meant a childhood free of towering buildings and busy streets. Sejong was the perfect mix of urban and rural, with Hoseok’s already owning the estate here. His parents had given to him as a wedding present, despite their distinct unhappiness at him marrying you.

So you’d made your home here. Hoseok worked for his father’s company remotely, occasionally travelling into New Seoul or any other cities he needed to before coming back. You taught at the local school in Sejong, enriching the minds of the children of those who had made their homes here in one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen.

And just on the other side of the wall was the beach and bay that still astonished you every time you saw it. It had not only been the place where Hoseok and you had admitted your love to each other, but also the place where he had asked you to be his wife and the place where you had both sealed your love together in matrimony. As such, it had become a special place to you and you’d hated the idea of the estate standing empty when you had a family ready made to move in there.

“Let me guess, Hajoon made Sarang cry again?” Hoseok sighed quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder and you chuckled. Despite being inside when it had happened, your husband knew your children very well.

Nodding, you grin and lean back against him, the familiar contentment at his touch spreading through you.

“Yep, but my mom put a stop to it. I think she might take Sarang inside to bake soon, she bought a load of stuff at that traditional store in town.” That made Hoseok laugh, his breath warm and ticklish against your neck.

“I’ll never understand why she likes to bake when she could just get Somin to do it.” Somin was the cook that apparently came with this estate, because that was a thing. You hated it, but you wouldn’t deny that she did make the best food. Which was why you’d reluctantly agreed to keep her. That and Hoseok had pointed out that the estate was so big that you simply needed to have staff to help maintain it.

Somin at least let you cook if you wanted to, or showed you how to make things. She’d also taught your mom how to bake in the last fifteen years and Sarang had taken a fascination to it as well, so your protests had long since died down. Hoseok still didn’t understand why they liked doing it though.

“She finds it relaxing I guess. I’m not going to tell her to stop doing anything she enjoys.” He hums lightly, swaying you both gently from side to side in a rhythmical movement. It lulls you into a wonderful sense of calm and you smile, still amazed that this was your life now.

“How’re you? And is the baby okay?” His hands move down to gently rub at the bump protruding from your belly, the swollen roundness an obvious sign of the child that grew within. It was still odd to know that it was acceptable to have large families here and you’d quickly discovered after Hajoon that that was exactly what you wanted with Hoseok.

After a childhood of growing up alone with uncaring parents, Hoseok wanted it too. Which is why you are now pregnant with your third child, due in another three months.

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.” You murmur, reaching up to gently stroke Hoseok’s cheek as you just enjoy the feel of him against you. Fifteen years later, he still makes you feel so safe and protected.

“Good,” He quietens for a moment, simply enjoying the moment with you before he kissing your temple once more. “Are you happy?”

Gazing out, you take in the sight before you. Your children are now playing happily in the sand, both cooperating as they work to make miniature sand castles with your mom. She’s smiling so brightly, happiness that you’d never seen on Earth radiating from her so strongly that it makes tears bank in your eyes.

Your father is still asleep, but the lines of worry and exhaustion that had long since plagued him had smoothed out, his days spent simply enjoying his life now. And then there was Hoseok, your beautiful, wonderful, amazing Hoseok.

The man who had taken a chance fifteen years ago when a woman had told him she was her soulmate, despite knowing nothing about it. Who had taken seeing colour suddenly in his stride and had plunged into dating without any knowledge of what was going on.

The man who you’d fallen so deeply in love with so fast and who had reciprocated so quickly in response, who had defended you and chosen you over his parents when he could have abandoned you so quickly. Meeting Hoseok had been fate and you couldn’t ever imagine your life without him now.

“I’m happy,” You whisper, throat tight with emotions as you feel your baby kick inside you. The movement is directly beneath Hoseok’s hand and you feel him grin, your own hand pressed lovingly on top of his. “I love you.”

There’s a brief moment of quiet after you say it to him, the words so common in your conversation that you could almost be mistaken for thinking there was no real meaning behind them anymore. But you mean every syllable that drops from your mouth when you tell him that, never wanting him to think that you don’t love him.

When he responds, you can feel the same unspoken weight of emotion behind them too and you feel joyful at the knowledge that he feels the same for you.

“I love you too.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH01

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, a little implied smut and a dash of angst for good measure.

WC: 2111

A/N: This is it. This is the start to the life after. I hope you enjoy reading. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

They had stayed the weekend in the house and moved in a week later, but Dean didn’t sell his building, and didn't rent out his apartment either. Although he wanted to get out of his former life, the apartment worked as a stepping stone to where he is now. He couldn’t part from it, no matter how hard he might have wanted to (which is not very hard, he has to admit). 

Y/N said he’s too sentimental and yeah, maybe he is. After all, the great thing they have now, the love that built throughout their relationship, it all started in that very apartment, and he likes to keep it as a memento, finds some kind of weird solace in it, which she thinks it’s creepy, but she doesn’t protest, because he knows for a fact that she thinks the same. So, he guesses, that they’re both creeps in a way. It takes one to know one. It takes one to love one, either. 

He also reckons that they could use it as a city resident. Not that he has any business in the city anymore, wouldn’t even want to anyway, but he never knows, right? It certainly doesn’t hurt him in any way, shape or form to keep the building — and the apartment for that matter — so he leaves everything as it is. He didn’t change anything in the papers either, just to be extra sure for when his old life comes knocking. 

Dean has to make sure to not leave any trails, because even if he’s out, there are still people who are butthurt he screwed them over (even though they all deserved it) and who knows when they’ll realize it and would come after him. Better safe than sorry and Dean needs to always be a step ahead. That’s how he got here in the first place. 

He likes to have control over his life. Feels the need to control every aspect of it, and it scares him shitless that even though he made it this far, there are things that are out of his control. Like Y/N for example, or the baby. It frightens him as much as it reassures him. It’s weird, he knows, but he has no control over his own feelings either, not when he’s with her.

The new house is bought and registered under the name of the trust fund he set up a couple of days before he bought it. Nobody knows about it, not even Sam, although Sammy would give him hell if he knew because he’d be bummed Dean didn’t go to him in the first place but Dean couldn’t take that chance. There’s always a possibility that someone will come knocking and he’d rather Sam doesn’t know about anything at all. He’d rather, if worse come to worst, Sammy wouldn’t have to decide over his own life or Dean’s.

He had also made sure that the new house has proper security. It’s weird, Dean thinks. Even though he wants to leave his old life behind, it sticks like gum to the soles of his shoes. There’s no way that he’s going to shake it off completely, so the best thing he can do is to look forward and work with the means he has. It’s crazy what money can buy and Dean’s not shying away from using it because if he wouldn’t use it for that what’s really the point of having so much. They really don’t need a lot to get by. Dean has more money than he’ll ever be needing.

Now, with a baby on its way, Dean thinks about his future more thoroughly. Occasionally wondering what he will tell his kid once it’s old enough to ask questions. Questions on how they met (that one is easy: a bar, she was a barmaid, he was a regular customer), questions of what he does for a living (that one is a little harder to answer), why they both don’t work (Dean hopes that by that time his child could question that, he and Y/N would both be working again, not really what he did before, but just something to pass the time). They take it one day at a time though. He’s anxious enough as it is at the moment. 

One thing that Dean never thought that he would get, though, is a dog. Never in a million years. Well, to be fair, he also never thought that he’d be getting a cat and ended up with two at one point. They adopted a puppy. A Belgian Shepherd, because Dean had the protection of his family in mind, too. The dog is loyal right from the start and he’s actually Dean’s dog, like Bubbles is her cat. 

Dean’s the one who takes care of the dog, goes out for walks, trains him, goes to obedience school, picks up his poo, feeds him. But even if Dean is the one who’s doing all of this, the dog still likes Y/N more because he goes to her for cuddles. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, seriously. Dean gets it though, she’s his favorite person too, doesn’t blame the animals for one bit, is only a little annoyed when they’re all lying on the sofa cuddling and there’s no room left for him.

Maybe though, maybe he should not let Y/N name the animals around this house anymore either. For some unknown reasons, she started to call him Truffles and the dog fucking listened to her. Dean tried to counter it with Hulk but all he got from the dog was a glare and if the dog could raise an eyebrow, he would have. It is not really fucking fair but he get what he gets, right?

She joked once that Truffles is somehow like Dean. All tough and angry looking on the outside but deep down, he’s just a cinnamon roll. Dean doesn’t agree. 

So now, they are living in a house with Bubbles and Truffles and there’s a baby on its way. If five years ago, someone would have told him that his future would look like this, he’d be laughing them straight in the face, maybe beat them up for talking bullshit, just because he could. Joke’s on him.

Y/N’s working in her art room since she woke up this morning. She’s finished with painting the walls and is now decorating and maybe she’s already painting something. He wouldn’t know, because he hasn’t seen her since they woke up together. Hasn’t seen her since he made her come on his cock and they took a shower together after. The carpenter showed up while he was still showering and he had to get out quick and left her behind. 

They are exchanging the flooring of their terrace and now Dean’s helping him because it’s faster that way. 

Dean walked around on the terrace three days ago but then he took a step on rotten wood, which saw his leg being eaten up by the flooring. Y/N had to come help him out but of course not without taking a picture first. She had to take a couple too because her hands were shaking from all the laughing. It’s her home screen now and he hates it. 

So, he had to call in a carpenter because if Dean has to do all of that on his own either, he’ll never be finished on time. And by on time, he means by the time the baby comes, which according to google MD should be next Spring but he’d rather have everything in place already before Winter arrives.

They don’t know the exact due date because they haven’t been in for an ultrasound yet, it would be too early to see anything now, she told him, but she has made an appointment in two weeks time, so they’re both pretty excited for that. Excited might not be the right word. Panicked, terrified, frightened might fit better.

He heard a lot about morning sicknesses and he thought that she’d have it too at first because she felt nauseous to the point that she has to throw up the vitamins she’s been taking since she knew about the pregnancy. Turns out, she should maybe not have taken them on an empty stomach. Lessons learned. 

***

They’re at her OB/GYN, which was a recommendation from Anna, and Dean walks around in the tiny space while she lies there and waits for the doctor to arrive. 

There’s a big poster hanging on a wall where they show the different stages of pregnancy and Dean’s looking at that. When he reaches the last stage, he starts to sweat even more, feels a little light headed and maybe he feels nauseous too, wouldn’t want to admit it though, so he swallows down his feelings.

He’s nervous, and was sweating bullets already on his way here. Y/N had to hold his hand the whole time while he drove. And it’s stupid, really. He’s a big guy, a big bad guy, and he really shouldn’t be nervous about an ultrasound, right? Right.

“Dean,” 

“Huh?” He blinks awake from his daydream. Or is it called daymares? Because he didn’t have one good thought when he zoned out.

“My god, I have been calling you twice already.”

“‘M sorry,” He mumbles and walks over to her, sits on the stool next to the examination bed. She takes his hand, squeezes it and he leans down, kisses her forehead, “Just really nervous.”

“I should be nervous. They will ram a dick shaped ultrasound stick into my pussy not yours.”

“They what?” Dean braces his elbows on the examination bed, his hand still holding hers. “I thought the ultrasound will be made on your belly,” Because he remembers seeing pictures and videos of women with big belly’s getting gels applied on their stomach.

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Y/N says, “But they informed me after I gave them my pee example.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Dean chuckles, it’s hard not to, but then he leans over to peck her lips.

“I’d rather get dicked down by your cock than an ultrasound stick, to be honest.”

Dean snorts out a laugh because at the exact moment she said it, the doctor opens the door to the room and steps in.

The doctor explains everything to them and now Dean’s even more nervous as he sits with her, his hands are sweating and he feels little droplets of sweats on his forehead, is afraid to brush at them because the doctor would think that he’s a fucking wimp.  

Finally the time comes where the doctor sticks the stick up her vagina and she flinches, while Dean tries to ease out the crease between her eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. Dean should not get aroused by the thought of something dick shaped going into her, but he does, which is really absolutely stupid and immature of him.

They both have their eyes on the screen but all they see is black and occasionally there’s a white blotch. The doctor goes deeper and Y/N flinches again while Dean tries to think of something super unsexy.

“There you go,” The doctor smirks and Dean squints his eyes, tries to make out fucking something. 

And then it hits him like a freight train because the doctor turns up the speaker volume and Dean not only sees it, but also hears it. A nervous thudding sound. The same pace as that white little thing flickering on the screen.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” The doctor says and Dean thinks he’s never heard a sentence more beautiful than this one, maybe except when Y/N’s begging for him to spank her harder, or to choke her or all the things she says in bed, really. But this sentence, uttered from a complete stranger right now, is a whole other level of beautiful. It fills him with pride, with joy, with something he classifies as hope.

Y/N’s tears pool around at the corner of her eyes and it runs down the side of her face, over her cheeks. Dean brushes it away with his thumb, and she looks at him then. There’s a smile on her face but also he can see that she’s scared because it makes everything more real now with knowing that there’s another heart beating below her own. 

He’s teary too, can’t hide it anymore but doesn’t want to cry in a doctor's office though, so he swallows it down, kisses her instead, makes his face wet with her tears to cover his own. 

CH02

[thetorturerwrites]

Lamb

***This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @elmidol​​. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

Summary:  In the beginning, there was only Vader, the Sky Walker. He wandered the heavens, filling the void with the cosmos. 

To combat his loneliness, Grandfather Sky Walker created two brothers, twins: one drawn to light and one drawn to dark.

Their bond created all life as we know it. 

C/N:  18+ only; mythology AU; implied genocide; physical violence; self harm; bloody bloody blood

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Well, here I am again, and here we go again. Please take the content warnings seriously because I am not a nice girl; and herein, may lie not-nice-girl things.

This is my first foray into world building, and I welcome all feedback, critiques, and comments. :)

Special thanks to @kylorengarbagedump and @bexterbex for helping me develop this idea and get it ready for sharing.

***

In the beginning, there was only Vader, the Sky Walker. He wandered the heavens, filling the void with the cosmos. 

To combat his loneliness, Grandfather Sky Walker created two brothers, twins: one drawn to light and one drawn to dark.

Their bond created all life as we know it. 

You ran your fingers over the intricate gold leaf pattern on the book’s cover, remembering your lessons as a child. This Scripture, your grandmother’s most treasured possession, was the only part of your life you’d brought on this crusade. It was the only thing you couldn’t bear to abandon, even in the face of certain death.

You exhausted every avenue before taking on this last of your options. You demanded justice from the law only to be told you should keep your mouth shut. You went straight to the throne, but it shut to your caste, your people too low to deserve even an audience.

Selling every item of value, you had barely scraped up enough for the one-person craft, but it served its purpose.  You were here. You landed the shuttle on one of Chandrila's famed rolling hills, overlooking The Demarcation. You exhaled, shallow and nervous, and looked out over the horizon. The pilgrimage to this place, this day, was long and harrowing, but the sacrament itself would be quick.

Your fingers quaked as you shucked everything identifiable about yourself: blue pants your mother bought for your birthday; green shirt that belonged to your brother, found in the rubble of what was your family home; jade hair clip handed down from mother to daughter for generations. None of it would serve you now, and it would only be in the way. Trading the vestiges of civilization for religion, you donned your grandmother’s ample amethyst robe, lacing the silk ties that held it together, and grabbed up the athame she’d bequeathed to you at your initiation.

She enveloped you, your grandmother, and you buried your nose into her sacred garment to inhale the lingering scent. They were your world, lovely and loving, ground to dust beneath the machine of a war none of you pledged to fight. The Resistance descended upon your planet like a plague, and they left a great nothing, a slate wiped forcefully clean in their wake.

It was for them you made this trek, that you abandoned all logic and reason for faith. They raised you to share their doctrine, but it never served a single purpose for you in life.  Your grandmother and mother believed everything they’d ever taught you about the Twin Fathers. They wove the fabric of their lives, and yours, around it; and now, you clung to their prayers, your last hope in the face of something horrible and wholly dismissed by the universe.

There was no one to remember them, their faithfulness and devotion, but you.

Fathers, we pray. Bless this our food to the nourishment of our bodies that we may be strong in your service. Bless these our hands that we may share your great instruction with those in need. Bless our hearts that we may find the balance you have so righteously set for us.

Their prayers spilled over your dry lips, the only eulogy they would ever receive, and every holy word strengthened your resolve.

Clutching book and blade in one hand, you punched a series of numbers into the keypad nearest the bay door, extending the ramp. When it finished descending, you issued another command, the tiny keys lighting up with each pressed digit.

“Self-destruct sequence initiated.” The robotic voice vibrated the tiny craft’s walls. “Confirm.”

 “Confirmation,” you cast one last look around the shuttle that had been your home for a month, “Bravo Echo 2-4.”

“Countdown 2 minutes.”

Sunlight, warm and inviting, welcomed you as you stepped off the ramp. Squinting into its brilliance, you recalled the way your brother would read to you on lazy afternoons and how your family would picnic on similar grassy knolls. The beeping over your shoulder grew faster with each passing second, and you lifted the cumbersome dress around your knees, wasting no further time jogging down the hill. 

You were out on the flat land for just a second before the shuttle exploded into a fiery ball. You watched the blast shoot debris and columns of soot into the perfect sky. In another life, it would have scared you, shying you away from the destruction. Silent, stoic, you tracked plumes of grey smoke and the fall of ashes, comparing it to the devastation you found after the Resistance found your planet.

Days after the attack, you roamed fallen buildings and picked through still warm rubble. You had been too late, too far away. Knowing you could have done nothing to stop the strike was empty consolation. 

You could have died with them. You would rather have died with them. Now, all you could do was die for them.

On bare feet, you crossed the flowery field, taking in the array of purples and yellows. You lingered on the blue-green grass, feeling the soft stick of it underfoot, and you basked in the wispy clouds overhead. This was life, teeming with vibrant colors, but it all felt hollow, dampened. You wondered if everyone who came here felt this way, grateful that this beauty would be one of their last memories but unable to fully appreciate what they saw.

Pressing your lips into a determined line, you steeled your will and turned to The Demarcation, The Great Divide.

Grandfather Sky Walker tasked the twins with creating and maintaining The Balance. One would usher life; one would usher death; both harbingers of fate.

It was striking, a sudden upheaval of vitality in deference to darkness. Tendrils of fog mingled with melancholy dusk, and you spent a long moment admiring the space between one and the other.  This spot, this one impossible convergence, was balance. It was what every man strived to achieve, and no man could boast.

On the other side of the billowing veil, where you were coaching yourself to go, was The Ren’s territory. People far and wide spun countless tales about the land and its Master. It was a bottomless hole, they said, that would swallow you up steps past the boundary. It was an unending bog, and all who journeyed there were lost. All of its structures were built from the bones of the dead, and The Ren was the vicious king of an unforgiving wasteland.

Your grandmother, however, believed The Ren to be a merciful father, wise and misunderstood. He was the bringer of ends who did not differentiate between rich and poor. No creature was safe from his touch, and that made every creature equal in his eyes.

Whatever that land may be, whatever The Ren may be, there was nothing on the other side of that shroud that could compare to what you’d already endured. It was the way forward, your only way, and you bid yourself to go forth on deliberate steps.

Mirroring the track of your life, a balmy day gave way to a wintry gloom as you moved through the gauzy curtain, passing from one kingdom to another. The living world fell away, replaced by slender black trees that shot up to winking stars and stood adorned with wide, scarlet leaves. A ghostly breeze blew, shaking the leaves to delicately fall and blanket the spongy ground. You trod upon them carefully, uncertain what might lurk beneath the crimson carpet.

You took your time on the winding path, drinking in every otherworldly detail. Light pooled from a clandestine moon, and the very air shimmered under its grace. Midnight-colored blossoms dotted the road, mingling with swaying ferns. The stars shone so bright you could almost hear the twinkle, a delicate song tapped out to echo against the trees. Every inhale was laced with morning mist and rich earth.

The stories were wrong. This was no forlorn place. It was luminous, hallowed. Absent the touch of civilization, this land had bloomed unharmed, untainted. 

This world felt more real to you, more easily understood. Colored with variations of shadow, it was peaceful in its ashen palette.

Reaching the altar, you stared, both reverent and curious. How many had come before you to lay their lives down for The Ren? How many had died as a sacrifice? Surely, its ruddy color came from generations of blood spilled in offering.

It was a chalice to which you would soon be adding.

The stone was cold and damp, raising gooseflesh on your nearly naked form. It curved down in the very center, a macabre cradle for all those laid here. A blending of emotion and chill cast your skin in shades of flush and set every digit to trembling. It was as though the thing waited for you impatiently, its very existence demanding an offering.

Your skepticism at your grandmother’s faith dwindled when confronted with an exact duplicate of the altar upon which you’d taken your initiation rites. It was larger, but the ridges were the same. The slab of your childhood did not bear such a florid hue, but the sacrifices it received had been sugar, water, bread.

This shrine’s very construction felt haunted, a cauldron of souls made solid.

Hoisting yourself up onto the behemoth, you arranged your tools in the very center.  You set the athame at your right and spread the weighty purple velvet over the shrine, laying the fabric and yourself out as you would for a lover. 

Your lips trembled. Your knees knocked together. The cloak barely covered your body, and the little satin bows lent an air of innocence you could hardly claim as truth. You hoped, swallowed a handful of prayers, that The Ren accepted sacrifices as the stories told. Today, confronted with the reality of this place, you believed it more.

Tenderly, longingly, you ran your fingers over the tome once more. You lifted it and pressed a gentle kiss to its cover. It would lie beneath your head during this last of your chores and for however long your body would remain here. 

Closing your eyes, you conjured memories of your grandmother bearing witness to so many dead over the years and how you, filled with doubt and agony and hate, had failed to do the same for your family, your friends, your people. It had been too great of a thing, too much sorrow to compact into a single prayer.

The words came easily now, having been swirling and growing in your chest for weeks.

Into thy hands, Great Fathers, do we commend this soul, departed from the body, in payment for the souls still yet to come. We pray that you welcome her, keep her, and enter her into the great Balance so we may again feel the light of her love.

Swallowing your grief, you gripped the wicked blade tight. You had no more tears to cry. You brimmed with an awful energy, this ceaseless anguish bubbling up from your very marrow.

“Dark Father,” you brushed fabric away from your right leg and sliced a deep gash into the supple thigh before you could change your mind. “Hear my prayer.”

You hissed at the burn but smoothed your features into a stolid mask. You would do this for your family and people, who received no warning, no choice to convert or flee. You would make your entreaty to The Ren; or, you would die here and reunite with them. Whatever the outcome, this was your end.

“I commit my body to your hands. As your brother has given it to me, I give it now to you to use as you will. Grant me the grace of your ear that I may plead my case.”

Your breath stuttered, and you fought back the roaring in your ears so you could concentrate and carry on. Fixing your eyes upon the trickle of blood, you watched it turn to a pool and hurried to match it with another slash at your left forearm. Benumbed, you tracked the redness as it crested and spilled in every direction.

The callous cold seeped into your very bones, and you fell back against the altar with a gasp, fingers grasping for the book’s corner. You blinked, heavy lidded, as your face fell to one side, staring into the great forest beyond.

In your delirium, you thought you could see them, smiling and holding each other. Tears you thought you no longer had rushed forth, and you shook. Weakness or acceptance broke open the gate on your heartbreak, releasing a torrent of sobs and screams. There was no one to hear, to care, to chastise you for its futility.

You heard her voice, your grandmother’s tone the same that had been soothing your fears since you could remember, rubbing over you like a comforting balm.

More than yesterday, beloved. Less than tomorrow. Find me in the Balance.

“Nona, I’m coming.” 

Your fit rode your wounds and bled away to faint sniffles and glassy eyes. You stared up at what you felt had to be an eternally night sky and pushed your fingers through the growing sticky puddles. 

This was death, and you welcomed it. You would slip away into a dreamless sleep here in such a place as you never knew existed. Fatigued, breathing slow, your face fell to one side, eyes unfocused but still dancing from beauteous flower to leaf to timber.

He was a charcoal smudge, nothing more. His movement was so subtle your addled brain took him for a tree, black clad and too tall to be a man. He stepped through the maze, and what little tenacity you had left drained away.

He came to sit upon the side of the altar where you lay dying, tilting his head to look at you. You stared, bewildered and confronted with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen when you had been expecting The Ren, the great storied monster. He passed his hand over your face, and the sting of your wounds abated. The heaviness of your limbs lessened, and the burden of your body eased.

Feeling and consciousness and awareness flooded back into your senses, and you bolted upright. Understanding dawned, and you gaped at him, struck dumb by every mesmerizing feature. Ebony tresses crowned him brilliantly, and he looked back at you with deep, glittering eyes. His fair skin was sprinkled with twilight constellations, and his lips were full, lush, slightly pink.

This was The Ren.

Troubled by the absence of death, you surveyed your situation, shaking both tense hands into fists. The ritual robe clung to the altar more than it did to you, swirling lurid with your blood. Blood that still flowed, you realized. Wide-eyed and amazed, you studied this unnatural phenomenon. The wounds at your thigh and wrist still wept; they should have killed you, but there was now a sanguine loop wrapping each injury around to feed into itself.

“Why have you called me here?” His voice was gravelly, as though he hadn’t used it in millennia.

“Am I dead?” It was a staggeringly stupid question, but it was the only clear thought in your head as you stared at the vermilion ouroboros around your wrist.

“If you intend to answer every question with a question,” his enormous hand shot out to capture the flesh just above your forearm laceration, “you will be soon.”

He squeezed the wounded limb until you shrieked and tried to tug away. Deciding that he would not let you go until you appeased him, you licked dry lips and worked your mouth into a measure of moisture.

“Why did you come?” Your query shocked even you, and you snapped your mouth shut hard enough to hear the clap of your jaws.

True to his word, The Ren’s hand connected with your throat so fast you couldn’t say for sure he’d moved. In one moment, idiotic inquiries filled your muddled mind; and in the next, you were choking at the end of his arm.

“Your howling,” his fingers tightened at your throat, thumb rubbing into the pulse almost delicately. “The next question will be your last. Why are you here?”

Licking your suddenly too-dry lips, you studied him, wrapping both of your small hands around his wrist. This man, this deity, was walking death, and that he sat here with his hands upon you changed the very foundation of everything you believed to be true.

“I-I came to ask your favor, Dark Father.” 

He shoved you away and stood from his perch. Death’s gravity pulled you down again, and you whimpered, reaching for him as though it would prolong the inevitable. Your mouth worked on a plea, but none came.

“You’ve wasted your time. And mine.” He turned away and spat the rest over his shoulder. “Sparing virgins their lives or the lives of their lovers lost its allure long ago.”

Glancing back, he must have seen something, perhaps the abject apology in your face and on your outstretched fingers, because he snatched you from oblivion in a blink. You broke into wretched sobs, each lung-full of air quaking and painful. 

“I came here so you’d come for me.” You dug bloodstained fingertips into your eyes to staunch the tears. “And to ask for your help.”

He was ethereal, his presence just a step out of sync with the rest of the universe, and it was difficult to look upon. You turned your face to one side and tried to compose yourself. You were battling the significance of your loss against the staggering truth that The Ren was real and here.

“You come to ask favors but cannot even look upon the beast?” He closed the gap in a blur, and you shrieked, leaning away. “How do you plan to beg if you will not even open your eyes?”

Crowding in aggressively, he leaned over and braced himself with both sturdy hands on either side of your head, an effective cage. His gaze traced over every curve of your face, and you couldn’t move under the oppression of his scrutiny.

“You think you will make demands of me?” His voice changed, dropping to a malicious whisper as he brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, tracing it to its origin in your hairline.

He would eat you; you were sure of it. Razor-sharp teeth hid just behind those beautiful lips, and he would tear you to pieces. Bolstering yourself, you drew in a shuddering breath and looked up into the galaxy-filled eyes. You had to say the words. You had to tell him what brought you here, but you weren’t sure you could do it.

“The dying lamb has no value to the shepherd.” His suddenly gentle tone belied his impatience and interminable power. “Tell me why you are here; or, I will leave you to die.”

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, losing yourself in his resplendent gaze. It was like staring straight into the sun, and every part of you felt branded by him. 

Your reasons for coming here meant little to him, you were certain. You pictured your family again and the horror inflicted on them.

The tension in your body loosened as purpose flowed through your veins once more. Your trembling lips blew out a steadying breath, which seemed to please him. He traced your lower lip with the very end of his thumb, waiting for you to speak.

“Retribution.”

[herb-whump]

Summer Job

I'm dying its 2 am god help me

Taglist: @albino-whumpee @torture-as-lovely-as-you

Let me know if you want to be tagged in other stories than Don't get far away Precious or not cause i do not know shit about taglists

CW/ manipulation and abuse mentions and threats, slight rape mention

Mikołaj went to sleep finally, squeezing himself next to the mattress on the hard floor. It wasn't pleasant, and he always woke up a little cranky afterward.

- Honey. - A familiar voice woke him up for good. It was his mom, softly smiling at him - I made breakfast... it's not much but you still gotta eat something.

- Okay... - Mikołaj sighed, blushing a bit. His mom still treated him like a little boy sometimes.

He sat down at the table next to his little brother. There wasn't much for breakfast. Some buns bought on the end of the day sale, with cheese and tomatoes, and cheap black tea to drink. Mikołaj looked down at the cup, the water was muddy, it wasn't of the best quality around these parts of the city.

- thank you, mom... For the breakfast - he smiled a little and the woman nodded. - I have to go to work soon so I probably won't eat a lot.

- But it's Sunday, I thought you would stay home today. - Magda frowned - You already work too hard during the week. You should get some rest.

- I was hoping we would go hang out today...! - his brother pouted, not happy.

- Mom, Tymek, I have to, and it's not a big job either. I will try to be back sooner today, I promise.

Magda wouldn't push her son anymore to stay, so she just sighed with a pained expression.

He ate one bun and drank the tea as fast as he could. Got a change of clothes and left the house, with a simple "I love you" while leaving. A man from another block of flats said he will pay him for repairing his shower. The man was an acquaintance of his. While they weren't friends, they talked a bit, and Mikołaj accidentally confessed to having this dire situation with money.

He knocked on the front door, to soon be greeted by the man. His name was Josef, and he was a middle-aged man, with short brown hair and round glasses. A kind face and from what Mikołaj could gather, he was a father to two kids, and after a divorce.

- Here you are! I was waiting for you. - Josef chuckled softly and invited the boy inside, showing him what was wrong with the shower, which Mikołaj started working on almost immediately - You know Miko, You need quick money right?

- Yeah, kinda... - Mikołaj bit his lip. - stupid shower head...

- Listen here, I know this guy, he has a work agency. He mostly hires young strong men like you, you work abroad, and earn much more this way. Usually only for about a month or two.

- w-wait really? - Mikołaj stopped for a bit. It sounded... A little shady to say the least. But he did worse things and if a kind father is recommending this, maybe it's actually a good opportunity. - Can you give me the guy's number? I will call him today if I can.

- Sure thing Miko. - The man smiled.

After finally fixing the shower, Josef wrote down the man's number on a piece of paper, paid Mikołaj, and sent him home. But before he returned to his mom and brother, the boy sat down at a secluded bench in the local park. He stared intensely at the number Josef wrote down. He was still debating if he should call it. But he didn't have many options at this point. He slowly put the number in his phone and rang.

- Good evening, how can I help you? - the voice belonged to a young woman, it was calm and soft.

- Uhm... Good evening. I've heard of job offerings in this agency. My friend, Josef recommended I call.

- Ah! Yes, yes! Of course! So you will need to send us your resume and talk in person of course - The woman explained everything

Except what the job abroad actually was. But Mikołaj didn't think much of it. If it made money and wasn't prostitution, he was in.

It was some time for the in-person meeting to happen, but it wasn't at all what the boy had imagined.

The man sitting before him was not much older than Mikołaj himself, 30 at most, but Mikołaj gave him 26. He had dark black messy hair, medium length. Brown eyes and wore sunglasses on his head. Golden chains on his neck and other expensive jewelry. He looked rich, to say the least. Not to mention the place of the meeting. Almost empty office room, in a freshly built business complex. Most of the spaces in it were just put out to be rented.

- Hi Mikołaj. - The man spoke up with a giggly, yet deep voice - You can call me Vasya. You're just going to sign those papers and you're hired for the month. If all goes well maybe we will hire you for a month more. - He slid a few papers on the table.

- N-no questions? I thought this was an interview... I mean don't get me wrong please, I'm just really surprised. - He chuckled nervously, slowly looking down at the papers.

- No questions. I think your resume said enough and just from looking at you, I think you will be a great fit. We need healthy, strong young men. It will be a physically taxing job but you wrote you did many jobs like that.

- I guess... - With shaky hands he took the papers in his hands, trying to comprehend what he was actually signing. But seeing the pay, stated at the end was enough to make him stop reading, and just take the pen. He signed it, never asking any more questions. This much money will get them a better flat and food for sure.

Even if the job was gross or heavily taxing, he will bear it. It's only a month, right? And if it's great, he can work for two months. That would secure their life for a long time.

He came back home with the news and a smile on his face. He burst through the door and hugged his mom tight

- O-oh dear! You got the job I presume. - his mom laughed and tousled his hair with a gentle expression. - I'm just sad you're going to be gone for a month or two.

- Mikołaj! So you're going? Is.. it bad I kinda hoped you wouldn't? You go out every day almost...

- I'm sorry Tymek. I really am. I promise after I come back, we're going to move to a nice place and I'm gonna spend much more time with you. - Mikołaj smiled softly, trying to comfort his little brother.

- I suppose... But you really promise, right? - he noded - Okay. Please call us every day though!

- I will. They will come to pick me up by bus the day after tomorrow, so I have to start packing soon. - the brown-haired boy hugged them both again and went to the other side of the room to search for a bag to pack.

The departure day came soon. It was a warm June morning, Mikołaj was standing at a bus stop near his house, waiting for the work bus to come. Clutching his bag in his hand, he looked up at the bus stop screen for the time. It was a little late, but when he looked away from the clock, the bus was coming from the other street. It stopped and opened its door.

- Mr. Kasperczyk? - The bus driver looked at him suspiciously - Show your ID

- Sure. - Mikołaj nodded and showed his ID, the driver promptly inviting him on board.

He walked into the bus, full of young men, probably not much older than himself. Some sat alone, sulking or sleeping, some laughed together in pairs. Seems normal enough. Mikołaj sat down in an empty seat and tired, pressed his head between the window and the seat, slowly falling asleep, still clutching his bag.

He slept through the whole journey, only the familiar face of Vasya, seemingly his new boss, waking him up.

- Wakey wakey sleepy-head. You all have to settle in your rooms. - He smiled. He had a charming aspect to his demeanor, but it kind of made Mikołaj uneasy. He nodded and stood up.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to treat Vasya, so he'd rather avoid him.

- I will visit all of you in the evening after dinner, okay? - Vasya waved them goodbye and jumped right back into the bus. Was he on it the whole time and Mikołaj didn't notice? Maybe.

The boy looked around. The building was clearly a worker hotel but didn't look too cheap. It looked cozy, and the receptionist informed them they had all separate rooms. She also gave them the keys, and information regarding breakfast and dinner hours. It was all provided for. Mikołaj got a room on the second floor. He opened the wooden door, to see a comfortable-looking room, it was small, smaller than their already small flat but it was more than enough for him. The bed had a birch wooden frame, it was made, and covered with a soft beige blanket. Next to it was a big window and a nightstand, and a wardrobe, all made from birch to fit with the bed. The bathroom was also private. the door was on the right of the entrance, it was also pretty tiny, but it had a shower, toilet, and a sink, all relatively clean, so what more could he ask for?

Mikołaj put the bag down next to the bed and sent a quick text to his mom that he got there safely, and first taking off his shoes, he laid down on the bed. It was soft... and so comfortable. He cracked a little smile, he will buy a similar bed for himself when he gets back for sure. No more back pain and cranky mornings. He could lay in this bed for an eternity... almost forgetting what he was actually here for. Work. Physical work at that.

He rolled around on the bed until dinner time came around. It was probably the first time in forever he would eat an actual dinner, usually, it was just lunch, sometimes breakfast. The boy jumped from the bed and stretched a little.

- Foood... - He smiled, his belly growling from just a thought.

The dining room was pretty small, for sure all of the workers from the bus did not end up in the same hotels. He looked around. The tables were for two, max five people, and it was a buffet. A buffet... all you can eat one. Ah, how he wished it was like this every day at home. Or that at least he could share with his family but alas.

The buffet tables were filled with food, it wasn't the most expensive kind, but it made mikołaj salivate at the mere thought. Sausages, bread and a toaster for it, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, and different jams, cereals, and porridge, fresh fruit, coffee, tea...  It was a feast for Mikołaj, and afterward, he returned to his room, full, completely forgetting the visit from Vasya was supposed to happen. So he was relaxing in his room until a knock snapped him out of the light mood.

- Yes?

- It's me. I said I'd come. - It was the man's voice, giggly as always. Mikołaj opened the door and let him in. - You probably want to know what is the job right. - he chuckled a bit, and closed the door, yet still positioning himself as if he was guarding the door.

- well... Yeah, and when do we start? - Miko sat down on the bed again, staring intensely at Vasya. - It's not like prostitution is it?

- No, we wouldn't trick you into prostitution, oh my! - Yet his face looked suspiciously calm. - But you would be surprised what people pay for nowadays. Good money! Tell me little Miko, you're probably used to being beaten up huh?

Mikołaj's face turned white, and he gulped, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He knew just from looking at him, didn't he? Or was it the giant barely healed wound on his eye the giveaway. Either way, the boy didn't like it one bit.

- What do you mean? - He finally spits out, not looking at Vasya anymore.

- It's simple, people pay for getting one of you, for ten hours, to do whatever they like. The rules are simple, no fatal injuries or rape, or else they deal with me and that's not going to be pleasant. I'm not a monster, I wouldn't let random people actually hurt you! - He said with a grin. - If customers like you, you get paid more usually. You can also agree to do sexual things but you don't have to. It actually doesn't pay that much around these parts.

- So you... You send us to be basically abused for ten hours and you pay us for it. What... What the fuck is wrong with you?

- Careful with those words, pretty boy. - the grin disappeared from the man's face, sending a chill down Mikołaj's spine. - You don't have a choice anymore. You signed your fate away for at least a month! If you break the contract, this family of yours will probably end up on the street soon. Time is ticking, you better do something. I'm giving you a generous offer!

- Sh-shut it. - He bit his lip. Vasya was right, they were on the verge of homelessness. - Okay. It... it's only one month.

- If they like you and you agree maybe tw-

- I know! Fine, holy shit, I will do it! Just... Send the money directly to my family alright?

- Will do that. I hope you stay for longer little Miko! Ah, you have an appointment already tomorrow, at noon, you will be escorted by a taxi from here. Good night and good luck! - He smiled and left the perplexed boy in his room.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 2

Summary: Two hours into the trial day, Sebastian gets an extension on his time with Jack. 

AN: No Hotch this chapter, but we finally get to spend some time with Sebastian! I might alternate between Hotch and Sebastian's perspectives a few times. Oh, the wonders of third person!

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad 

Chapter 1 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 3

Of course, this had to happen on the first day when Sebastian hadn’t even thought about moving into their spare room. Hotch had been called away from the office – Arizona to be specific – and he was not hopeful about returning home by the end of the day.

“We’re gonna have to go back to my house, get some stuff so I can stay tonight,” Sebastian explained as they passed the doorman on the way to the garage. All three exchanged a friendly wave.

Into Sebastian’s blue budget hatchback Jack’s booster cushion was swung. Jack climbed up into it with relative ease, though there was that tell-tale slip on the way up that came from being distracted by the sight of many CDs in paper sleeves stacked in the open compartment. The one he chose to look at, while Sebastian was busy buckling him in then getting around to the driver’s seat, had blue ink writing out the track list. He thought he recognised a few of them.

Sebastian switched on the car engine, groaning loudly as the air conditioning smacked hot air into their faces. He flapped his hand in front of him in an effortless attempt to cool down. Then he switched the air con off altogether.

“What tunes do you like, Jack?”

“Me and Daddy like the Beatles.” He handed over his chosen CD over, one that did not mention the Beatles.

Sebastian hummed, restraining his comment about “white men on guitar” as he put on some sapphic folk, “How’s this instead?”

Throughout the playlist over to Sebastian’s bedsit, Jack bounced his legs. He seemed a little surprised, almost a bit offended, when Sebastian started singing along. He was also not very enthused about dancing beyond his leg jiving. Sebastian didn’t push for him to join in, only going as far to turn down the music a little bit so that his energy would match it.

The building that held Sebastian’s residence was far from grand. If anything, it sucked the souls of those who looked at it. The garage was mostly empty. Its concrete colour palette crumbled at the edges and Jack looked wary as Sebastian led him up the dingy stairwell – the lift was broken.

On the third floor Sebastian twisted the key then tugged his front door towards him. After a few seconds, the lock unstuck itself from the door and he was able to push into the room – letting Jack go first.

There was still a whiff of his favourite mango passion fruit candle in the air. First order of business therefore was opening the window, hoping that his landlord wouldn’t pop round for a visit and kick him out early for breach of contract. Once Jack was exploring the space, Sebastian beelined for his wardrobe, pulling his case from the top shelf.

“Your home is small,” Jack announced to the sitting room, still taking in the kitchenette.

“Yes it is,” Sebastian held up some shirts to his chest before turning to his charge, “What do we think?”

Jack approached them, his tiny hands touching the hem of the shirt with lush green ferns patterned over it, “I like this one.”

“Me too,” and Sebastian tossed it onto the top of the case, his purple shirt replaced on the rail, “That’s why I bought it. Best bit about being an adult, Jack, you can do what you like with your money.”

Jack nodded solemnly at his advice before leaping over onto his couch, dislodging a cushion and tangling himself in the throw.

“Hey Jack, you ever played ‘Crash Bandicoot’?”

It didn’t even matter what Jack’s reply was; Sebastian was already over and switching on his PlayStation. Best tactic as a nanny: kids were always distracted by screens.

Jack was happy to sit in Sebastian’s lap and hold his hands underneath Sebastian’s, much larger than his own. They taught him the jump, the spin mechanics, and directions to take across the menu before Sebastian selected one of the first levels.

“Thems the mangoes,” He said quietly, much to Jack’s delight, as they cracked open a crate of the juicy fruits.

“What’s the point?”

“The point? You gotta reach the end of each level. Reckon you can tackle this bit on your own while I pack up?”

A little nod was his answer. Sebastian untangled his legs from underneath Jack and left him on the couch.

Scouring his necessities, Sebastian would be lying to himself if he wasn’t half tempted to pack up his PlayStation. His reluctant conclusion was that he could survive a day without his console had crossed his mind. Maybe when his trial “day” was over and if he got the job.

“You mind if I take a photo to send to your dad?” Sebastian sat upon his suitcase in an effort to crush his wash bag into submission. Jack did not reply. “Jack? Jackaroo?”

“Hmm?” Jack looked away from the game

“Can I take your picture for your Dad please?”

“OK.”

Snapping a quick photo, Sebastian sent Jack a thumb’s up, “Thank you. Now back to your gaming, sir, the bandicoot is getting cold.”

Sure enough, Crash was shivering in the rain that was pouring over the level.

It was a little past lunchtime by the time the pair finished the Crash Bandicoot level and sung through their second drive-time karaoke – Jack a little more accepting of it this time. As a result, Sebastian didn’t spend long prepping the spare room. He just tossed his bag in and shut the door. His future self could deal with it.

Making the classic lunch that Jack enjoyed became one of the day’s many activities, Jack offering a tour of where all the food was kept whilst wielding a butter knife that had been dunked in a mug of boiling water. It had a bit of melted butter dribbling down onto his hands. A drop of it splashed onto Sebastian’s shirt when Jack, a little vigorously, gestured to the top shelf in the fridge where the chocolate was kept.

The Lego modelling was unpacked again once lunch was all eaten and cleared up. But for once, Sebastian wasn’t as immersed in the craft as Jack.

“What do you think of my music?” Sebastian finally asked.

Jack shrugged.

“You don’t have to like it. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

Jack shrugged again.

“How about we find some songs you really like and you can show me some of yours?”

Sebastian picked one song then Jack picked one, and so on and so forth. Each song was given a verdict and either left as it was or plonked into a playlist for when they were next in the car. Or cooking. Or doing anything where they could also jam.

As each new song started, Jack stepped a little bit closer to how he was behaving yesterday. He was even swaying in time with the song when he asked if Sebastian could recreate what they’d done with the spacecraft before, and he found more energy reserves when Sebastian choose an upbeat song to zoom about space to.

“Again, again!” Jack cried when “Mahoney’s Debut” by Alexandre Desplat clunked into “Brothers in Arms” by Junkie XL.

“Sorry bud, this one’s six minutes long and I’ve not got the energy for one minute more.”

When Jack slid down Sebastian’s legs like a slide, Sebastian rolled over to his phone and turned the volume way down.

“I don’t like this one.”

“Well, I do, and I would like to hear this one just a lil’ bit longer.”

Pouting, Jack began adding a new room to his spacecraft. But it faded by the time that Sebastian played Jack’s favourite Beatles song as thanks while he made dinner. Time passed much faster now that they were both enjoying themselves again.

Jack made his own way getting ready for bed. His pyjamas were already out on his bed, and he’d brushed his teeth shortly after putting them on. Cuddled up on the couch, two pairs of slippers dangling off the edge, Jack took control of Sebastian’s avatar and ran about the server to explore what had already been built until it was bedtime.

Tucking Jack in, Sebastian said, “You all good?”

“Can you read to me please?”

“Sure thing. What book do you want to read?”

Jack grabbed the book from his nightstand, “We’re reading ‘Danny Champion of the World’!”

“You and your Daddy?”

The little guy nodded, wriggling deeper into his bed sheets with glee. Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek.

“Well, we don’t want your Daddy missing out on Danny’s adventures. How about we pick up something else?”

“I like Where The Wild Things Are.”

Sebastian knelt beside the bed, his arm resting against on the mattress so that Jack could see the illustrations. He could see, and sometimes hear, Jack’s lips moving along with the words. As he grew sleepier, Jack would miss a syllable every now and again.

When Jack’s eyes were drooping shut more often than they were staying open, Sebastian eased the book shut, “What do you prefer for a goodnight, Jack? Kiss, hug, high five, or a wave?”

“Wave please.”

So, Sebastian placed the book back onto the shelf and waved as requested, “I’ll be in the spare room if you need me. Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight,” yawned Jack, his eyes closing as Sebastian switched off his lamp. Low orange light radiated from the little nightlight in the corner, keeping watch over Jack once the bedroom door was closed.

The thrilling task of tidy up time was always the worst part of Sebastian’s day. It was last thing, it was boring, and he was more often than not shattered. But future Sebastian – now present Sebastian – had no appreciate past Sebastian just chucking his bag into the spare room. He certainly would not appreciate these tasks being left ‘til the morrow.

Headphones and comfy wear made things a little sweeter. But by the time Sebastian was tucking himself into bed, it was ten to eleven, and he didn’t even care to think about how the spare room was devoid of anything personal or how all his belongings were still packed in a tiny case or his rucksack.

That was future Sebastian’s problem.

[segersgia]

Looking back: Part 1 - Primaris Space Marines - Infantry

The excitement for 9th edition has been growing and growing. People are happy with the upcoming units for Space marines, and Xenos fans are rejoicing at the return of the Silent King and the introduction of new Necron units. 

What I want to do is take a long and hard look at what 8th edition gave us in terms of miniatures. 

To start of this series, we have to begin with Games Workshop’s favorite poster-boys; The Primaris Space Marines

The Primaris debacle:

If you didn’t already know, Games Workshop is somewhat obsessed with Space Marines. This hasn’t changed at all in 8th edition. In fact, it kind of got worse.

8th edition introduced us to the new and improved Primaris Space Marines - Extra cool Space Marines. 

For a lot of people, these were just a lame excuse to resell you an army that most of their costumers had already bought. Lore-wise, they came out of nowhere, and for some they were an affront to what the Imperium stood for: an autocratic, dogmatic and fascist regime that saw innovation and progress as something evil and dangerous. 

Fortunately, the Primaris have begun to become a little more fleshed out, and hopefully, this will continue for the better in 9th edition.

Before I start my overview, I have to explain my main gripe that I have with the ENTIRE range.

The Helmets:

With their redesign, the Space Marines gained a new pattern of Power Armour. This included a new design for their helmets, and I absolutely hate it. Gone is the iconic respirator, and instead we get a return of the Mark IV helmet, A.K.A. my least favorite pattern of the range. 

Kitbashers prove my point. The Mark VII is so much better looking on the new range. They look proper evil and merciless.

So always keep in mind that with every model in this range, I will have the same complaint; I don’t like the design of their helmet.

Intercessors:

The Primaris line was a way for the design team to re-imagine the space marines in a new way. Their size got updated to what might be considered “Tru-scale” and lore-wise, they gained a better crafted kit than their predecessors. Though what they gained in upgrades, they lost in group flexibility. 

Intercessors are equipped with Bolt rifles, which are basically slightly upgraded Boltguns. These can be retrofitted in the usual way with scopes or under-slung grenade launchers. 

Lore-wise, Intercessors take a surprisingly defensive role, mostly described as using suppressive fire to slowly advance to a position or hold the line.  

Their design, specifically their proportions, is what many expected the actual proportions of a space marine to be. They are hulking masses of power armour that should dwarf humans easily. The original Space Marines were a little “ill-proportioned” and the new Primaris have fixed that issue very well. 

One complaint I’ve seen appear is the fact that Intercessors lack the ornateness and religious aspects that the old marines had. If you’d actually compare them with Tactical Marines, it kind of shows that this isn’t the case. 

In fact, it just shows that normal Space Marines aren’t that ornate to begin with. 

Intercessors are a good re-imagining of the Tactical Marines and share the same feel that their predecessors have. What the Intercessors lack is just their weapon options.

7/10

Hellblasters:

The Primaris doctrine seems to hark back to the olden days before the Horus Heresy. Instead of the highly adaptable formations that we see in the Tactical Squads or the Devastator Squads, the Primaris decide instead to have specialized squads.

So while the Intercessors favor trusty bolt weapons, the Hellblasters make use of the the Plasma Incinerator: an improved version of the Plasma Gun that doesn’t overheat unless its fired in its overcharged setting. Hellblasters have the role of providing covering fire, similar to Devastators.  

The Plasma Incinerator is what makes this my favorite unit from the mainline army. It is such an improvement in design over that of the Plasma Gun. It makes for a great silhouette and the miniature looks more powerful because of it.

9/10

Reivers:

Reivers are part of the Vanguard line of Primaris troops; units specifically designed for long covert and stealth operations. 

(The rest of the Vanguard will be looked at in a future post.) 

Reivers themselves act like terror troops; sneaking into combat before yelling “OOGA BOOGA” and murdering everyone in the room like an Eversor Assassin. 

Primaris power armour has a very interesting quirk. It comes in different variants that can be mixed and matched to serve a certain role. Reivers and most of the vanguard line use Phobos Armour; a pattern that is lighter, more lightly armoured and features servos that allow it to be almost silent in combat. It features Grav-Chutes, which allows Reivers to safely descend from heights, similar as to what Elysian Drop-Troopers utilize.

They go into battle with Bolters and over-sized knives. They can also take a Grapling Hook, so they can cosplay as their favourite DC hero. The skull helmet they wear has an in built voice amplifier, allowing their battle chants to turn into a police sound cannon. They basically stole the idea from Eldar Howling Banshees. 

The poses from the “Easy-to-build” kit are just ugly, but their other kit fixes that issue. I still am not sure about the skull helmet, and would’ve preferred a better way to visualize their voice-amplifiers. I kind of like the Phobos pattern, but I do have some gripes with it, such as the exposed metal abs(?) they have. 

6/10

Aggressors:

I really don’t hope this is what will replace Terminators.

Aggressors are a fire support unit that slowly advances while providing covering fire from mid to close range. They wear Gravis Armour, which is the more heavily reinforced variant of the Mark X. They have Power Fists that have either Flamers or Bolters attached to them, and some are equipped with shoulder mounted grenade launchers.

Gravis Armour is my least favourite of the three patterns and Aggressors are my main reason for it. They look very clunky and are way too cluttered with weapons. I don’t like the rounded design as well. It looks like they would take one step and then fall face first into the dirt. Even the artwork doesn’t do them justice and makes their over-sized armaments even more over-sized. A wider belly and smaller gauntlets would’ve fixed this unit’s design.

4/10

Inceptors:

Remember the intro of the Space Marine video game? Captain Titus leaping off a Thunderhawk and flying through an air battle to land on an Ork ship? Inceptors do just that, landing in the thick of the battle, with guns in both hands like B.J. Blazkowicz.

They are equipped with either Plasma Guns or Assault Bolters, and fly through the air with an over-sized jump-pack. To soften their landing, they have these funny looking boot plates, so that they don’t die during the impact.

If the boot plates weren’t a thing, I would have no qualms with this unit. Their version of the Gravis Armour is what I would’ve preferred the Aggressors to have. They also look like they would actually do well in low gravity environments, such as space battles. What I like most about them is the fact that they seemingly resemble Assault Marines from the artwork of Rogue Trader.

Games Workshop has kind of gone back to looking at Rogue Trader, and figuring out how certain aspects of it could fit back into 40k. I’m 100% behind that trend and want more of it.

7/10

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The Primaris range is already massive and I’m separating the range into different parts. So far though, it has been a varied bag of good and meh. I do want to keep these varied, so next up, I’m going to tackle a different army; the Death Guard...

[route22ny]

New York Unmasked

by Harry Siegel

Imagining our city, for worse and for better, after the coronavirus pandemic

The city that never sleeps is taking a nap now, and it’s going to be a very different place when it finally wakes up.

Not long after the World Trade Center was destroyed on Sept. 11, 2001, and again after Lehman Brothers collapsed on Sept. 15, 2008, there was a lot of talk about how New York wouldn’t be the same. Both times, reports of our collective demise proved to be greatly exaggerated as the city quickly recovered, economically speaking, and resumed the upward path — ever more prosperous, populated and pricey — it’s remained on for at least the last quarter-century.

This time is different.

Any remaining vision of the city somehow picking up more or less where things had been left off went away with the decision to start shutting down the trains for four hours each night. That’s a huge though supposedly temporary shift for a system that’s run 24 hours a day for over a century with only the briefest of interruptions — until now the only one in the country that doesn’t turn off, as I’ve been shocked to re-learn every time I make the mistake of visiting another city. As with many of the decisions New York and the nation have made in this plague year, it will be much more difficult to turn things back on than it was to turn them off.

Already, the devastation is staggering. In less than eight weeks, the 13,168 (as of Friday night) confirmed coronavirus deaths here have exceeded the total number of murder victims, 12,509, over the past two decades — and that’s counting the 2,977 victims of 9/11.

New York managed to keep the death count down to 13,168 at the cost of putting the city and its economy in the equivalent of a medically induced coma, and with no assurances at all that a second wave of infections won’t be coming despite that.

While putting New York under helped keep the first wave from completely overwhelming the medical system here, as happened in Italy, “the point where we can really start at reopening…obviously is a few months away at minimum,” Mayor de Blasio said Friday.

Even at that point, whenever we finally get there, it’s hard to see everyone just getting back on the train for a crushed morning commute to the office, or servers returning to packed restaurants and bars and theaters and nightspots. Forget about tourists flying in to burn dollars; it’s an open question how many of the generally better-off New Yorkers who’ve left in the course of this will return here, or how many families will borrow or pay now so students can have the city as their campus — or if there will be a campus at all this fall.

This is all surreal. While some people talk about how the virus ravaging New York compares to 9/11, Donald Trump — who claims he lost hundreds of friends on 9/11, though he’s never named a single one of them — dispatches fighter planes to fly low over the city as a tribute to first responders.

While we still don’t know why New York was hit so hard by the virus, it’s clear that density — in places from the Meatpacking District here to the meatpacking plants in the Midwest — plays a big role in spreading it. And this is a place built on density, by far the densest big city in America as well as the biggest.

So this witchy hour we’re in is looking less like a PAUSE than a painful and fundamental shift in how the city functions and what it means to be a New Yorker.

To get through it, many people need to keep looking ahead and, I hope, looking at what New Yorkers can do in their own lives and demand from their politicians to see the city finally emerge as a fairer and more resilient one . I was born in New York City just ahead of the blackout babies, in November of 1977 — the month that Ed Koch was elected mayor and started to set the city on the path it’s mostly remained on until the virus — and I’ve remained here pretty much since. My dad grew up here, and his dad , and me and my brother are both raising our daughters here now, walking distance from each other and Rosie and Zadie.

I’m committed to the city for a lot of reasons, in addition to my family here: I own a house (or at least the bank lets me live in it), and one that’s bizarrely worth much more than I bought it for, at least if I was to sell it. My kids have a couple hundred square feet of their own outside as we shelter in place. And I know a bit and write a lot about New York, which really isn’t a skill set that travels.

But the truth is that the city of the past two decades has felt less and less like home, and more and more like the parts of Manhattan I try to avoid. I’ve spent too much of my adult life railing against the hipsters, gentrifiers, trustafarians and yuppies who didn’t have the good taste to spend their money here and then leave but instead “discovered” neighborhoods and remade them in their images, often to be priced out in time by new “discoverers.” I saved a bit of spleen for the people who rail against those people, rather than do something more productive with their time.

New York has become a city of increasingly sterile retail, one where internet listings have made real estate a more transparent and internationally accessible marketplace for foreign capital to reshape neighborhoods that preserve less and less of their old characters — for better and for worse.

It’s a corporate town, full of semi-interesting hustlers and characters along with its steady share of the depraved, the doomed, the damned and the dull. I’ve seen enough and read enough to know that none of that is new. But it’s metastasized over decades of financialized and increasingly monopolized and VC-fueled growth to swallow other values and ways of life. It’s hard to swim against a tide of money, and it takes a certain mania to even try.

Some of this is selfish, for sure. I preferred the waterfront of my youth, when the piers were barren and all but off-limits but for the bold and the desperate. No one with means would walk there, let alone live there, since it still had the taint of not so long ago shipping and industry and the rougher trades that lived by the waterfront, when the High Line was just a long-abandoned elevated track west of the projects that you could break into and walk on.

That all became part of the steel-and-glass luxury city that Mike Bloomberg described, one here for companies that can afford the best and priciest, and the people who draw incomes from those companies, directly or by providing services for their FIRE (that’s finance, insurance and real estate) workers who live in The City while firefighters commute in from Westchester and Long Island, or by constructing the buildings these people live in, or from the bloated government that services the “other” people who need help to stay here at all. A city that’s priced hospital beds out of big swathes of Manhattan and Brooklyn to clear space for luxury housing.

For years, I’ve been anticipating a reset as office space declines in importance with the rise of remote work, and that in turn brings down commercial and residential prices; hoping for a different, sturdier and livelier New York that exists for and better reflects the people who live here rather than serving as a clearinghouse for the world’s money. Over my adult life I’ve read endless warnings — including in this paper — about the return of the “bad old days” that are long gone for most New Yorkers, if they were here for those days at all. Now, we’re about to get a real taste of what a sharp downturn, along with a hostile federal government, feels like: “Drop Dead.” Now they’re looming as trading floors are vacant along with everything else that isn’t actually essential, and much of what’s abruptly left won’t soon return or the money that they brought in and splashed around.

This will be painful, but New York has always found ways to make new uses of what’s here. The same way that small and sturdy Brooklyn rowhouses built for the burgeoning middle class woke up one day as $2 million “townhouses,” and Single Residence Occupancies that single men depended on to maintain lives here, such as those were, become mansions with enough money and time, office spaces can become creative spaces like warehouses became artist’s lofts. Finally, housing prices, and everything else, should relate to the incomes of the bulk of the people working here. Right now, they relate to the vagaries of the global markets.

I’ll repeat that: The size of our economy, and real estate prices, should relate to the value of the goods and services people here actually produce. That will hurt a lot of New Yorkers who’ve invested in the city, including me, as property values and rents flatten or even go down, but some of that pain is needed. A city that’s too expensive for gas stations or grocery stores — looking at you, Manhattan — is too expensive for most people.

I hope we’re becoming a city that gives a proper Bronx cheer to Airbnb and Seamless and Uber and WeWork and all the venture capital-funded wannabe monopoly “tech” companies looking to “disrupt” fundamental aspects of our life by losing money for long enough to drive their competitors out of business altogether. That resists the convenience of Amazon and its ilk to support our local grocery and book and hardware stores, so that those are still there when we really need them.

A city that knows better than to cut off its nose to spite its face, now that we know better than to touch our faces. If New York has to sleep now to survive, it’s the perfect time to dream.

harrysiegel@gmail.com

***

This essay appeared in the New York Daily News, May 3, 2020.

Photo via ShutterStock

[mollymauk-teafleak]

sweetheart, you look a little tired

Huge thanks to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian for being such lovely betas!

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Peter Nureyev is in disguise once again, this time at a high end brothel. he has a clear goal, a clear head and voices haunting him from his past.

Until he meets his first client, Juno Steel.

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Please reblog and let me know what you think in the tags or leave a comment on this fic over at Ao3!

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Disguises were Peter Nureyev’s specialty. He didn’t like to think what a psychologist would say if they got their hands on that.

But he was something of a genius at them and, like all things he was unbelievably good at, he enjoyed doing it. He’d forged new faces out of wildly expensive materials only found on one planet in the entire known galaxy, he’d made them out of cheap stage paints and shoplifted supermarket make up. He’d spent close to a year making some of his most used, most dependable costumes and some he’d made in the handful of seconds he’d had between a door starting to open and the security guard behind it seeing him somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be.

Nureyev had been counts and cardsharps, he’d been street urchins and fantastically rich multibillionaires, he’d been priests and strippers, he’d been ghosts and shadows and monsters right out of folklore, he’d been someone so painfully normal that you wouldn’t look once, let alone twice. He’d been everything under the sun, apart from himself.

And now he had a rather unusual challenge. Now he had to make a disguise out of absolutely nothing.

The five minute call was coming down the corridor, hollered by an assistant with a clipboard who looked like they’d completely transcended the concept of ‘stressed’ and was now utterly untouchable. As they walked by, they remembered Nureyev was new here and said it again, for his benefit, reminding him that ‘five minutes till showtime’ meant he needed to be dressed and in the bar area by the time the brothel opened.

Nureyev nodded, wearing the face of an anxious young man who was realising he’d maybe bitten off more than he could chew with this job.

It must have worked because the assistant’s expression of self preserving numbness shifted into something like sympathy, “It’s a weeknight, man, no one’s gonna be picking a new face.  Just sit there, look pretty and keep your eyes open.”

The moment of unexpected kindness, from someone who clearly didn’t need to give any amount of their time to comfort someone like him but had anyway, in their own rough manner, Nureyev could remember a time when that would have thrown him. When it would have filled him with guilt at what he was here to do, regret that he’d lied with every breath since he’d arrived, wonder what might happen if he didn't have to have that disconnect between himself and everyone he met.

Nureyev could remember. And he could recognise how far he’d come since then.

The five minute call continued, bellowed further down the hall, bringing a flurry of activity in its wake. Nureyev could hear silk whispering over skin and heels clicking on the floor outside the doorway, giggles traded between his coworkers for the evening who knew each other better, light arguments break out over who’s turn it was to wear a certain sapphire necklace as if such extravagance could be traded and bantered over so playfully. But of course it could, even the tiny dressing room Nureyev had been given as the newest member of the brothel had a chest overflowing with jewels and a closet bursting with silks, any one of which would have kept him fed, clothed and safe for a year when he was a child.

The luxury of this place was staggering in a hundred little ways like that. It was a fine establishment, loudly and proudly touted as the best in Hyperion City. Nureyev had to knit together a sparkling resume at four other, lesser brothels to be even given an interview for the recently opened position. His charm had carried him the rest of the way, as if often did. First rule of thieving, always make sure your greatest asset is something that can’t be taken away from you.

There was a huge bar area downstairs with a stage and, upstairs, fifty rooms, some elaborately and cringe-inducingly themed to your more standard fetishes. Others were simply beautiful spaces for the workers to take their clients, filled with flowers genetically modified to never wilt or curl or lose their scent, soft furnishings with gold accents and dramatic hangings, beaded curtains and diffusers and immense marble bathtubs. And of course beds of every sort, small and soft and intimate or expansive and lush and built for as many partners as you were willing to pay for.

And these clients were willing to pay. Being the best and most lavish brothel, it drew the best and most lavish customers. When a high ranking politician or stream star or oligarch wanted to indulge in some fun away from polite society, though the line was getting increasingly blurred, they came here. They came to The Fly-By Night.

And it stood to reason that the best customers would draw the best thieves.

Nureyev wasn’t here to rob anyone, not outright. If that was his only goal, he would just fill the pockets of the see through robe he wore over shorts that were barely there, he’d stuff them with the jewels and expensive aphrodisiacs left around this place like decorative potpourri and leave by the nearest window. No, he was here for something else. He was here for information. First rule of thieving, the most valuable items are never what is in plain sight.

So Nureyev had no intention at all of going down to the bar area to lounge and look pretty and flirt with the bar patrons who either hadn’t made an appointment or couldn’t afford one but could afford the ridiculous drinks prices. He’d nodded earnestly all through the floor manager’s careful instructions on what to do and how to present himself, letting his facial muscles do the work while knowing all the while that he would be here for a handful of hours, no more. The hard part had been getting through the door, earning the freedom to move through the building that only an employee would be afforded. Sure, posing as a client would have been simpler in execution but Nureyev had never been afraid of over preparing.

First rule of thieving, take the safest route, never just the easiest.

Nureyev set his jaw and finished smudging gold eyeshadow over one eyelid. He wondered when he would stop hearing that voice in his head. He always told himself one more job, one more planet, and the distance would be great enough that it would fade into nothing. Something less than a memory even. He’d forget the face that had ever been attached to that voice, he’d stop feeling the ghostly stickiness on his palms that came with those whispers.

Next time, perhaps.

He left Peter Nureyev in the dressing room and emerged as Freyr Zirconia, a ridiculous name to walk down the street with but perfect to wear as a sex worker in glossy, completely transparent samite. He made his smile a little false around the edges, clearly hiding nervousness, someone who knew their trade but hadn’t quite settled into their environment yet. He chose accessories that were far from the finest on offer, making him look low in the pecking order, hesitant to appear flashy or perhaps he just didn’t know where the good stuff was kept and was too shy to ask. Rather galling to Nureyev, who knew he’d look exquisite in the thick rope of black pearls he’d passed over.

Maybe he would find himself back in the dressing room before his exit, snagging them as a present for himself. Maybe. If he did well.

There was already a pleasant buzz of conversation and soft music audible from halfway down the stairs, all emanating from the bar area. It hadn’t been hard to feign Freyr’s impressed expression when he’d been given his tour of the brothel after his successful interview. The bar was done in a classic style you didn’t see often in the bigger planets further out in the solar system. It was all leather and oak panelling, faux of course because the trees necessary had gone extinct a century ago but the imitation was flawless. The lights were low and richly golden, encased in red coloured glass in some areas so certain booths and alcoves would be awash in a red you could practically taste, giving the impression that whoever sat inside it was in their own little world. And to help them get there, behind the bar was what looked like every alcoholic drink in the known galaxy, wildly expensive wines from Earth, flavoured vodkas from Saturn, heady rums from Jupiter, even liqueurs brewed only on the furthest outer rim planets.

Freyr almost wished he could be part of it. It would be nice to be bought extravagant drinks, to have people fawn over him, to have rich men smile at him and feel like they owned him for an hour. There were things a man who was not Freyr had been neglecting recently, pleasures beyond those that could be found in a brilliantly planned and flawlessly executed job. Simpler pleasures of lips and hands and sweat that wasn’t yours drying on your skin.

But Freyr could wish all he liked. A man who wasn’t Freyr had an elusive mark to locate the personal phone number of.

He’d memorised the floor plan at his interview and confirmed it for himself with some illegally acquired schematics. First rule of thieving, always double check. The administration office was in the basement so the acrid numbers and figures didn’t shatter the fantasy, meaning the easiest way to get to it was to cut across just one corner of the bar. He couldn’t exactly go around the outside of the building, dressed as he was. It was raining, after all.

It wouldn’t take a minute, just a handful of steps. And it wasn’t like he was noticeable, Freyr was just one of several nymph-like visions in samite and jewels and barely there underwear. The Fly By Nights became like celebrities of Hyperion’s underworld, their faces and names well known and often requested, their specific skills practically famous. The older hands had cultivated reputations that filled their schedules for months, sometimes half a year in advance. Someone new and unestablished like Freyr was unlikely to be chosen in the twenty paces it would take to get him to his goal. He almost felt lazy with how easy this would be.

Just in case anyone was watching, he took a moment before he walked into the bar, making sure his robe was lying just right across his chest, patting the seemingly effortless swoop of his dark hair, rubbing in the glitter on his chest to smooth it out better. Freyr would be nervous, eager to make a good impression, hungry to prove himself, a heady mix of emotions that the other man could understand on some level and didn’t need to work too hard to paint over his delicate, expertly made up features. A deep breath. Straighten the spine. Go to work.

Almost immediately Freyr was enveloped in the smells of dozens of different but somehow complimentary perfumes, the rhythmic clink of glasses and pouring drinks, light music played on simple instruments, a rich glow of light and luxury. Even the sharp sweat tang of the hungry clients coming in through the doors couldn’t ruin it. He put a sway in his hips, dropped the lids of his eyes just a little, leaned into it all. Twenty paces, that was all, so why not enjoy them?

There were conversations happening all around him, it was a bundle of coloured threads in a hopeless knot. But the man who wasn’t Freyr simply couldn’t help himself sometimes and began to listen to the snippets he walked through, just out of interest. First rule of thieving, after all, always keep your ears open, you never know when you might hear something that saves you later. It was mostly innocuous parlour talk, too early in the evening after all for tongues to be truly loosened. The workers pressed drinks on their clients, laughed and cooed at their bad attempts at flirting, old friends greeted each other, some light gossip was traded that Freyr already knew and didn’t concern him anyway. Nothing to snag his interest as another part of his mind counted down the steps left.

Until he skirted closer to the bar itself.

There was no reason why the voice should have stood out to him the way it did. It wasn’t even saying anything of interest, just one of many unfamiliar voices that didn’t relate to Freyr’s goal whatsoever, talking of nothing. But this one grabbed him, yanking him off his train of thought, spilling his focus on the floor like so many marbles.

“Yeah, I meant what I said,” the voice was harsh, snappish but it was like a thin crust over something deeper, “The full bottle, I have the creds and I’m damn well thirsty enough.”

It wasn’t hard to find the owner of the voice, there was only one person it could be. He looked as rough and worn down as his voice had sounded, clearly sober but not intending to stay that way with how determinedly he was gripping the edge of the counter, slumped into an aged trench coat shiny with wear and the rain from outside. It was in his hair too, droplets that now looked like diamonds under the bar lights. His jaw was strong and covered in the stubble of someone a good week into a string of bad decisions, his eyes hooded and bloodshot to match. His hands were covered in scars that could only come from the kickback of a blaster. Soldier? Too young. Bodyguard? Too wayn. Cop? Perhaps but whatever he was, he was clearly an ex.

First rule of thieving, observe. Always observe. Unless it’s a pretty boy, in which case, tear your eyes away Pete and focus, god damn it.

Freyr swallowed hard and stopped, sixteen paces in, trying to sink deeper into being someone who didn’t know that voice. That voice, light and joking and jolly but now he could name the undercurrent that he’d always sensed but never pinned down until after. Until after…

He took a breath. Clearly he was not in the right frame of mind. Clearly if he went into that administration office now he would make a foolish mistake. First rule of thieving, timing is everything, yes? So deviate, improvise, circle back around with your head on straight.

And until then, play the game.

“That looks like a two man job,” he reached out and snagged the rather large bottle of high end whiskey the bartender had reluctantly set in front of the tired eyed ex-probably cop.

Freyr could see the decision whether or not to throw a punch cross the guy’s scarred face. Fortunately he came down on the side of non hostile resignation.

“Lady,'' he corrected, not arguing when Freyr reached over the bar and collected two crystal tumblrs, puring each half full with amber liquid that smelled of woodsmoke and expense, “Sorry, you’re gorgeous and all but you’re out of my price range. I’m just here to drink.”

“And drinking is all I spoke of, madam,” Freyr smiled sweetly, holding up his glass expectantly, “But I thank you for the compliment.”

After a pause, his stranger knocked his glass against his own and drank just a swallow. Freyr copied.

“You don’t have to pay to ask my name.”

That got a rough smile, not quite a true one but close, “Then what’s your name, handsome?”

“Freyr. Yours, handsome?”

Now a laugh, amber warm as the liquor they were drinking, “Juno Steel.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face,” that made him laugh again but there were patches of colour on his dark cheeks that didn’t have anything to do with the fine, mellow burn of the whiskey, “Can I ask, Juno Steel, why a lady with no money for a sex worker is sat in a brothel?”

Juno didn’t seem to know how to answer that, doing an awkward kind of one shouldered shrug, “It’s raining outside. The door was open. There’s alcohol.”

A simple formula for someone who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Freyr was good at his job, he knew how to read people and shift his gaze to bring into focus the words behind what they actually said. And Juno Steel wasn’t a hard lady to read. Grief and loneliness etched themselves on a person’s face in a way few other things did, leaving traces that were clear as words on a screen, especially if you were already familiar with them. Especially if you knew them from the mirror.

First rule of thieving, get back on the job, you useless, twitterpated young fool. First rule of thieving, you know better than this.

Behind Freyr’s face, the man who wasn’t Freyr set his jaw. He was sick of that voice. He was sick of still following it’s commands, sitting up to the snap of it’s fingers like a well trained dog. Hadn’t he proven that he didn’t need it? First rule of thieving, he’d do what he damn well pleased.

And right now, what he wanted to do was Juno Steel. He looked like he could use it.

Freyr leaned forward, knowing the light would be making his dark eyes glitter, “And there’s me.”

Juno smiled wryly, not moving back to reopen the distance between them, “Yeah. That part was a nice surprise.”

“Listen, Juno. I don’t need to know why you're here or why you have that brokenhearted look in your eyes you’re doing a rather poor job of concealing. I’d just like to try and do something about it. How does that sound?”

Juno caught his lower lip in his teeth, want flashing in his eyes like a distress signal on a ship lost in deepest space, “I...I don’t…”

“I know,” Freyr leant in a little more, until he couldn’t tell whose breath the smell of whiskey was coming from, “But, I’ll be honest, this is my first day. I have no appointments. So why don’t we call this...a practise run? Ex gratia on both our parts.”

Juno’s eyebrow lifted, “Can you do that?”

“Of course.” What did it matter when Freyr wouldn’t exist in a day’s time?

There was still some hesitation, something still lingering in his expression. Freyr wondered what had happened to this lady the last time someone had reached out to him, promising something for nothing. And then he remembered he didn’t care.

“Why me?” Juno eventually asked, his brow creasing with uncertainty.

Freyr smiled softly, showing where he’d smudged a little lipstick on his front tooth, almost as if it had been deliberately placed there to show his nervousness on his first day.

“Why not you, Juno Steel?”

It was quiet upstairs, too early in the evening for any appointments to have moved past the initial flirting in the bar stage. Freyr had the night’s schedule memorised, he knew which rooms would be free and would stay free for however long this wonderfully bad decision would take, he knew where he was going as he pulled Juno along.

There was a giddy lightness in his chest, a pounding exhilaration going through his veins. Freyr had a lifespan of three days, he’d never had the chance to be a reckless teenager, going against the path that had been laid out for him. The man he wasn’t had never experienced it either, for different reasons. But this is exactly how they’d both imagined it, how it had always looked in the streams and in stories. This was exactly what the fantasy had promised.

Both of them were giggling like they couldn’t help it, throwing wild grins back and forth, drunk on each other and a handful of swallows from the whiskey bottle now swinging in Juno’s lazy grip. By the time they reached one of the more modest rooms where they were minimally likely to be disturbed, Freyr was wearing Juno’s overcoat, Juno had marks of Freyr’s lipstick across his cheek and was gripping his narrow hips, whispering filth into his ear to make him fumble with the keys.

Freyr retaliated by turning and bending to kiss him full on the lips, the first time they’d done that since leaving the warmth of the bar for this new, uncharted dimness. Juno was shorter than he’d expected, he had to guide his jaw up a little after a moment to press their mouths together more fully. But it was a sweet kiss, all the same. Juno seemed to think so too, from how he shakily exhaled into Freyr’s mouth in a way that sounded almost relieved.

Once inside, Freyr didn’t need to do much to undress himself, letting the coat still heavy with rain and warm from Juno’s skin fall to the floor. His partner proved a little more hesitant, hands shaking as they went to the hem of his turtleneck. If Freyr had thought the tremors were anything but the aftershocks of something in the past, he would have called time then and there. But as it was, he took Juno’s large, scarred hands under his own and guided them, supporting them as the layer of damp wool and black trousers came away, showing dark hair, dark skin, more scars.

Freyr was new to The Fly By Night but he’d been in this trade a while. He knew how to make the right noises and pull the right faces, he knew how to give the clients what they paid for, no matter what was under their clothes. If there had been anything about Juno that disappointed, it wouldn’t have shown on his face.

But there was nothing to be done about the awe that softened his features when he saw all of Juno, wearing only the soft light from the window. There was no way to mask the quiet inhalation, the way his pupils flooded open, the way his hips tilted unconsciously forward. Showing too much was as dangerous as showing not enough and, in that moment, all of Freyr’s professionalism went out of the window.

But Juno didn’t seem to know any better, only blushing and giving a destroying self conscious smile. Perhaps it wasn’t just Freyr who was new to this.

“Can we just…” Juno gestured to the bed, a luxurious affair with black sheets that looked soft as butter and ready to sink into completely.

Freyr smiled indulgently and nodded, “Go make yourself comfortable, handsome.”

He told himself he didn’t care why Juno would find it so difficult to hear the words about to fall from his tongue. First rule of whatever the hell this is, we don’t care, we don’t think, we just act.

It did him good to see Juno sprawl out across the bed, to see his muscles unwind and his expression loosen at the softness, to see him let go of the weight of himself.

“What can I do for you?” his voice was honey, eyes hungrily roving over all of it, the limbs with their wiry strength, the old scars, the comforting softness of his gut, the lines of thick, dense body hair he wanted to follow and see where they led.

Juno’s gaze was suddenly quietly desperate, “Fuck me. Fuck me until I forget everything outisde this room.”

First rule of fucking Juno Steel, don’t ask.

Freyr nodded, scrambling to equip himself appropriately, suddenly feeling a mad fear that it would all be different if he looked away for too long. Each of the rooms had the basics of what two individuals, or even more than two, might need. Other things could be requested in advance, some other things that Freyr had to admit he was curious about were too large or elaborate to be moved from behind the stage. Perhaps now he’d still be around to catch one of the nightly shows and see for himself.

His hands were practised at straps, buckles and knots, it was nothing more than a few moments before he wore a rather beautiful black leather harness with gold metal accents, a middle of the road sized cock comfortably pressed against his own. Freyr wouldn’t like to assume, after all.

He turned to see Juno had watched the whole thing, now practically salivating, on his back with a hand between his legs, stroking himself into hardness.

“A little rude to start without me,” Freyr grinned teasingly, putting a hand on his hip.

“Then get over here,” Juno’s voice was already thin and gasping.

Freyr did just as he was told, snagging a bottle of lube as he passed, tumbling gladly into the bed. Juno rose to catch him, kissing him eagerly, now unhurried and lazy seeing as they’d reached their destination. If he wondered why Freyr’s hands could still deftly open the bottle and soak their fingers, all while the rest of him was devotedly kissing him, licking into his mouth, sucking marks on his neck while he gasped for breath, then Juno didn’t voice it.

There was some force in his hands as he yanked Juno’s legs apart, like a pouncing cat with prey suddenly deciding to stop playing and make an end of it. Juno let out a ragged gasp, clearly into it. His eyes fixed on Freyr’s as he sank two long, clever fingers into him, the first breach of his body. Neither could make a sound.

They’d neglected to turn any lights on as they’d staggered in so the colours of the room shifted and melted through half a hundred shades as, outside and unnoticed by either of them, the late evening melted into dusk, into night. As he opened him up and carved a space for himself inside the other body, Freyr saw Juno Steel as a gold bathed god, as a drowned sailor glimpsed through the surface of an indigo lake, as a constellation mapped out in dark stars. And always as a person, just another person he was sharing a bed with, who was starting to gasp and moan and whimper, eyes never leaving his face.

“Ready for me?” Freyr whispered, realising he’d been doing nothing but fingering him lazily for a good long while.

Juno nodded, voice raspy, “God, yeah.”

The sheets whispered underneath them as Freyr drew back from between his legs, now settling his hands on either side of Juno’s face. They didn’t stay there for long, as soon as Freyr started to move into him, slowly at first, Juno bit his lip and tipped his head back in such an expression of pained bliss that there was nothing for Freyr to do but hold his face gently. As he began to speed up, moving deeper and with more momentum, Juno took Freyr’s thumb in his mouth and sucked and in that moment, Freyr could have died happy.

It didn’t take long, they were both already halfway there. But it could have taken a year and it would have felt too soon, before the gasps and cries that were now indistinguishable grew to a peak, before there was a strangled cry, the thump of a headboard against the wall, a rise in their bodies into a perfect arch and it was done.

When Nureyev came, he gasped out Juno Steel.

There was something delicate about the seconds after, something shy and awkward as Freyr pulled out, as Juno winced at the stickiness on his stomach, as the bedsprings creaked, as they mumbled vague apologies while Freyr settled on his back so they now lay side by side, both staring up at the ceiling.

Juno was the first to clear his throat, clearly not a fan of awkward silences, “So...thank you. I mean, that was...I needed that.”

“I could tell,” Freyr’s voice was weak as he caught his breath. He hadn’t realised just how long it had been since the man he wasn’t had done that. His heart was hammering in his chest like a caged hummingbird.

Juno turned, sitting up on one elbow. In the dark, his expression was unreadable.

“Um...if I came back another night, could I...could I ask for you? I’d pay, I know this time was, y’know, a gimme.”

Freyr froze. Another night, he wouldn’t exist. Another night, he would be off somewhere with a new face and a new name, he’d be someone who had never heard of Juno Steel. Another night, Mars would be a collection of trivia the man he wasn’t had collected and collated and filed away for any future jobs.

First rule of thieving, stick to the plan. First rule of thieving, make no promises. First rule of thieving, no distractions.

First rule of thieving, just keep going, keep running, keep working and then...and then…

Nureyev turned to Juno and smiled, reaching out and stroking his cheek softly, “For you, Juno Steel? I’ll stick around.”

[grim-faux]

24 - Morphogenic Engine

“The Engine.  The Morphogenic Engine.  It gets in my head like a song you can’t stop humming.”

The air is cool and fresh, filled with the scent of fallen rain.  Dusk is fast approaching and the lights from the lamp posts burn with a clarity I’m not accustomed to.  I take a breath smelling the moist soil, pine, soggy leaves.  I stare at the edifice before me, my adversary, a world of untold horrors, consuming nightmares as they manifest in fractured minds.  I couldn’t know any of this staring at the covered windows, the compliant walls.  The wind picks up and I pull the collar of my coat closer to my neck. That sense of foreboding returns. The place was unnatural, but I couldn’t decide how. It was just a tall building of brick and wood, with the mountainous region backdrops. The tall buildings thin spires stretched high overhead into the heavens, where men once flew to touch the sun. It was hard to imagine the warmth of the sun with the chilled air swarming. In my ears was a humming. It had always been present, unending and livid with cadence. But I had ignored it. Ignored it like I had ignored my instincts about this terrible place. Something was in the air, a charge, a warning. When did it become so thunderous in my ears? Or was that my heartbeat? I ran my thumb along the inside of my palm counting my fingers. When I reached the fourth digit I turned my head down and stared at my shoes. It buzzed in my bones, until my outer extremities were numb. My skin and muscles felt hot and cold all in the same sensation. It was too much. Or was it the sound? That persistent din, rising above the still forest and jagged mountains that surrounded me. Driving into my skull until I could hear nothing but the booming howl in my ears. I felt my consciousness waver, it was impossible to stay upright. Where did that sound come from? Who was making that noise?! Why?! Why did it follow me!? My lips pulled back over my teeth as my jaw clenched.  Why?  Why any of this?  Moisture rolled down my cheeks, a few drops hit my coat turning the brown into a black spot.

A sudden presence is at my back.  I could hear his breathing, soft but ragged.  I jerk my head up terrified to turn, frightened by what would be there, what I would see.  But the fear fades when the actions fails to come, and once again I was staring at the Engine of nightmares.  Mount Massive Asylum.

“Little ghost.” The voice crooned behind me.  “Little ghost.  Time to wake up.”

My eyes open a crack and I found the edge of my face pressed into my bloody shoulder.  Where Trager had clipped me.  The fabric of my coat felt sticky against my cheek, though the blood had dried hours ago.  I exhaled slowly letting myself reacquaint with the pain, my reluctant return to the muggy and distorted world I had come to inhabit.  A ghost to pragmatism.  It took a brief moment for my mind to catch up, reload the most recent events.  What had I been doing?  It was painful to recall.  How long had I been unconscious?  Enough to help me carry on.  I had no choice, there was no telling where Billy was.  I would get moving and leave the nightmares far behind. The air felt cold and my shoulders shook.  Needed to move.  Needed to get up. As I used my hand to brace my body up and leaned forward, I looked to the sheet of paper set on the computer desk beside the keyboard.  It was a single page, stained with a ring of coffee.  I focused on it reading through the lines over and over, even when I had it memorized.   Please find attached the “Permission to Proceed” form for patient William Hope, of the Murkoff Charitable Psychiatry program at Mount Massive Hospital in Colorado (USA). The form is standard, and all relevant lines have been signed. It appears Billy is unaware of his mother’s recent guided cardiac arrest. He is submitting to the experiment with the understanding (unfounded) of financial remuneration to his mother and a charitable contribution to her church. Wernicke, having read the boy’s dream reports, believes he has enormous therapeutic potential. Was Billy’s ‘success’ as an experiment, because he refused to die?  I couldn’t say.  He took the therapy they gave him, he bought their bullshit, and now he and his mother were no better.   Damn you Murkoff.  Damn you for this.  You reap what you sow, now choke on it. A drop of water stained the page, and I quickly rubbed the dampness from my face.  Carefully, I folded the sheet up and inserted it into a clean space of the notebook.  Not as evidence, I’m not sure what to call it.   I didn’t bother to zip the pocket shut.  I pressed my hands to the terminal as I straightened my back, working the stiffness from my muscles and feeling that piercing tingle in my ribs.  My feet felt firm under me but my heart was aching.  I was hollow and lost, despite the resolve that had solidified in me, for what must be done.  One task left to remedy, then I could wash my hands of this place. Aside from the alcove with the desk of computer terminals, there was no other space to explore, but for a short catwalk beyond the desks.  The grate extended out above the cavernous expanse of E Block, below extended the catwalks and paths I had dragged my broken body up.  The present lamps anchored to the walls gleamed with ferocity, I squinted my eyes against them as I stared out over the open gap I had thrown myself across.  The pain flared through my chest and I exhaled that stale coppery taste.  It barely registered in me that I had been up here for god knows how long, unconscious and Billy had an abundance of time to finish me off.  My dire state was somehow lost to my sense of self preservation, or maybe I was too focused on the humming of the generator.  I told myself Billy was weakened when his anesthesia was cut off, I had the advantage.  He was forced to wait.  Bide his time and wait for my return, and that was when I would fear for my life.  That was when I would run.  When that eerie shriek reached me.  Until then. Until then…. I checked through the cameras feed to view what was visible in the thick fog gathering.  The Morphogenic Engine must have been overheating, that’s the only explanation I could conclude for the condensation.  I bit my lip as the image in the visor flashed.  The power in the camera itself was getting low, and that could further contribute to its failure.  But there wasn’t much more of this to endure.  Another white lie to keep me going. The catwalk ended beside metal cabinets built into a cement shed, which extended from the floor somewhere below and up into the ceiling overhead.  This was it, it had to be this.  The generator for the Engine.  I was a bit shocked that it wasn’t more impressive, but perhaps I was only seeing the surface of it.  There would be a panel, a door to open and access the wires.  I secured the camera as I fumbled with the other hand, it was difficult to see but I attributed that to the steam.  One panel had a set of hinges along the crease in its side.  This was it.  There was no visible latch so I just gave the panel a good smack and the door popped open, allowing access to several large bundles of cables hooked into a transformer.  Which ones did I pull?  It was always a good policy to start with the middle of anything, if you’re not certain.  I took the middle bunch and put my other hand up.  It shouldn’t spark if I was careful, and don’t hold it too tight.  I winced as I snapped the clamp free.  Nothing happened.  Good.  I popped the rest free with reckless abandon.  

A soft whirring faded with the connection now severed, lights dimmed as emergency lamps activated in the same power shift.  Sirens chime a warning of the sudden interruption, the cavern groaned with the power loss as distant generators failed.  The experiment would perish, and the howl of something more rose up among the catwalks.  I couldn’t decide if the echoing call was the machine weakening, or the thing it kept alive.  I stood at the rail listening, as I poked my thumb into the cut in my coat sleeve.  Caused when Trager had endeavored to take my head off.   It was eerily silent, and wondered if at long last Billy would locate my position.  There was no doubt in my mind that I could reach the purge chamber before he reached me, but there was nothing.  No scream, no rippling distortions in the steam, no malevolent presence.  Only the soft chatter of the generator as it sputtered into silence.  I spun around and began my way back. That could have been it.  The memo did warn a possible interruption in the experiment, if sufficient distress was introduced.  The life support fluid and the anesthesia had been disabled, and Billy seemed unable to reach me despite my exhaustion.  Maybe cutting the power had been enough to stop him. I would still disable the Fail Safe.  That was the only assured way to terminate the Walrider swarm.  But that would be a simple matter once I reached the Morphogenic chamber.  It remained a ways on the other side of the facility, and I wouldn’t gamble that Billy wouldn’t be waiting on the other side of purge doors when they opened. My feet stumbled when I moved off the last step and crossed to the open doors, and the light within.  The purge doors gave a soft hiss as they shut, and I leaned on the wall as the mist filled the small space.  I was ready to bolt when the doors opened, my muscles were not ready to resume, but I wouldn’t stop.  I had to get around and keep going. When the panels scraped open, there was no shrill hiss to greet me, no vaporous form lingering beside the doorway.  I dithered, before I peered out with the camera.  I had to change the battery, but the replacement was full on power.  Enough to grant passage out of here. Nothing was there.  I made my slow trek through the corridor, unable to decide if there was this much blood when I first came through.  The pain in my skull intensified, I muttered something to myself.  I was trying to coax myself to keep moving.  It wasn’t much further, and then I could puke and pass out if I needed that.  I doubt it’d get me away from the pain for long. Despite the heaviness in my gut, my pace quickened.  Maybe that was it.  Maybe disrupting the life functions of Billy stopped the swarm.  It was too good to be true but I was making progress, as long as I didn’t let my guard down.  I didn’t need to get ahead of myself and fall into a trap.  That’s happened to me too many times.   The end of the corridor came into view and I slowed my pace to gaze out, straining my eyes to see through the blazing light in the damn visor.  Nothing to indicate the presence, no sound.  All was calm.  The visor did flash but it just did that.  I clasped a hand to my eye, that impossible pain.  Why my right eye?  Once I was moving again I could block it.  But why? As I began forward I hear it, very close.  That awful taste coated me throat, something about seizures.  And a light.  He wasn’t gone yet!  Where was it coming from?!  I spun about and saw the wavering ripples coalescing above the open expanse across from the catwalk, skimming towards me.  Shit.  Shit!  My foot caught on the rung of steps that elevated up to the grated walkway.  For god sakes Miles, PICK UP YOUR FEET! I shoved the knuckles of my camera hand into the gaps in the grate and pushed myself up, stumbling to get onto my soles.  Had to cut the corner, it was going to cut me off.  Gotta jump!  Secure the camera!  Gonna— jump— secure the camera! The edge of the walkway was under my feet and I launched off into open air.  I had no idea where I put the camera, couldn’t care in the moment.  It didn’t feel like I had enough momentum behind me when I jumped, but— I gave a sharp yelp when I was torn out of mid leap and dragged backwards.  I couldn’t overcome the terror that choked me, now that I was suspended high-high above a hard floor without a solid surface to latch onto.  And in so much pain!  My spine was somehow being flossed between my ribs.  I gagged and whimpered, Christ, the unnatural sensation!  My feet jerked beneath me and dangled, I couldn’t feel my toes.  My arms pin wheeled out from my body as I tilt backwards, disorientated by the violent movements I was being spun in.  The camera!  My mind automatically locked onto that.  I felt the cameras weight in my upper arms sleeve.  I found my camera!  It was safe! I snapped around and suddenly the apparition was at my face.  It was expressionless from what my distorted vision could make out, but I could FEEL it sneer.  Its anger.  I stare wide eye trying to take calm breathes, its ‘hands’ tighten around my chest and I let out a whimper.  The pressure was intense, digging through my coat and shirt and piercing into my muscles.  I couldn’t help but let out a pitiful sound. No.  No.  NO!  Guts and gore!  Liquefied Murkoff!  Chris’ final squeal of agony as his body scattered over white stone.  A blast of cold pulses through my body as I try in vain to kick free, but I can’t feel my legs. The Walrider fades and I give a short cry as I’m propelled backwards, my neck snaps back on my shoulders and the sharp pain flares through my skull.  I can’t see where the Walrider has gone, but I’m twirling through open air, falling past the rungs of the steps I had hobbled up earlier.  The light flashes over my eyes as I plummet, screaming as the ground is coming up fast.  For some reason I wonder if my camera will survive the impact. Then it’s there in an instant, I can’t keep track of what’s happening with my ears ringing.  One of my arms plasters to my side as the other flops out, searching for a balance, some sort of hold.  I can’t decide if I’m still falling or rising, but I open my eyes and to take in the light.  I squint against the bright lamps, and its then that I feel its arms digging into my midsection.  The cruel shriek blasts through my ear, as it flips me over.  The edge of the metal catwalk is right there!  I snap my eyes open and claw out for the metal edge, desperate and panicked.  I’m positive I could reach it!  An inch more!  Even if I don’t have the strength to pull myself up, I have to get free of its painful clutch! I yowl out as the Walrider constricts, I could picture my organs popping one by one under its ‘fingers’.  There was a sound, I’m unsure it if was the Walrider or me, but I’m flung away.  My heel smashed over something metal as I spiral, tumbling down through the muggy steam.  I see the light and shadows pulse by my eyes, mixing until I’m dizzy and sick.  I let loose a sob when I see the pallets and barrels on the floor below, come into focus.  NO!  NO!! Somewhere in the dark it snags me and I struggle wildly against its grip.  The cruel hands twist deep into my chest, its sharp fingers coil over my collar bone.  Ice.  It’s just like ice!  My jaw snaps loose and I gag, and howl, anything to drown out the pounding in my ears.  The electrical plague surging through my body.  Its hold loosened then, and I plummet through the dark before smashing into the light.  And the stone floor.  I try and brace my fall by throwing my arms up, to protect my head from the lamps.  Keep my teeth from scattering.  My elbows absorb some of the blow, and I hit with all my weight onto my bad side.   It probably wasn’t the best action, but I immediately thrust myself upright from my hands and try to stand.  To walk.  I moan in my throat as the world tilts, I can barely see with the way the colors distort in the light above.  My ribs shift back into place and I gasp, struggling to catch my breath without choking on my tongue.  God… can I walk?  Am I able to— Not done!  I’m not done yet!  I lean on my leg as I take a step closer to the stacks of bags on the pallet, covered in the blue tarp.  My body swings to the side, but I manage to stay upright.  It’s a massive accomplishment for the effort I put in, and I don’t want to fall again.  I plant my feet apart and scan my current whereabouts over.  The steam has gotten so thick, and it’s become hard to breath without choking. I’m across from the double doors that lead back to the Morphogenic chamber.  I stare at them groggily as I take a step, and promptly lose my balance.  I hit the tarp covered materials and sprawl over the blue surface.  I’m hurt bad, but not done, not by a long shot.  My breath wheezes and I barely get back up on my feet, ignoring the small wet patch of red I’ve left on the plastic cover. Somewhere overhead the Walrider shrieks.  Its hurt or it is dying at long last, one of the two.  If it wasn’t it would have killed me then.  If it has a second chance it will succeed. I manage to reach the doors and get one open.  I leaned on the doors edge as I pushed it open, then slumped on the cool metal panel as I force it shut.  I take a slow breath.  Pick up the pace Miles.  Almost done.  Promise. I pushed away from the door as the Walrider came into view below, driven by its unrestrained fury to paint the walls with my blood.  I took another breath, doing my best to ignore the pain chewing in my skin.  It’ll hold for a minute tops, but only concluding this would save my life.  I spun away and pushed myself into a steady jog, and blocked.  Blocked out the hum, blocked the pain.  I blocked out my humanity. The corridor seemed shorter, or maybe I remembered it wrong.  I skipped to a stop at the barrels and wedged myself through, and grunted through clenched teeth as my side rubbed on the rough pallet.  I dropped to my knees on the other side as my mind swam.  Pain.  Have to get up.  But the pain dragged me down.  A mere few feet away was the metal door, the Morphogenic chamber.  Everything I had wanted.  Everything I had tried to accomplish.  I pushed myself to my feet and gripped the handle, and used it to pull myself up until I was standing.  “Get this done.  Get it done, and I can leave it all behind.  All of it.” The inhuman cry of the thing from the dark followed me, echoing in my ears.  It was coming. I stumbled through one door and dragged it shut after me.  I tried not to cough on the thick vapor, as I staggered to the edge of the steps.  We’re good.  We’re good.  Keep it together, almost there.  I took a few deep breaths deliberately agitating my ribs, and focused on Wernicke’s machine.  This was it.  This was the end to all this madness.  Find the control panel.  Deactivate the machine.  Kill the creation. The chamber looked to be in distress, the air was now clogged with dark smog.  Lights flared across the ceiling, arks of electricity sparked over the dodecagon structure that dominated the center of the room.  Monitors for computers regulating the machine flashed errors, probably indicating the test subject.  Throughout the chambers panic, a siren blared to summon the doctors in and correct the error.  But all the doctors were dead, their remains scattered to the furthest edges of the facility.  There was no one left to hasten in and aid the experiment that had destroyed them. The stairs winding to the Engines base were excruciating to rush down, but I’d rather be on them.  I supported myself on one arm while the walls continued to tilt, the pulsing lights didn’t help either.  The camera stuffed in my shoulders sleeve was becoming obnoxious and I risked pulling it out, to have… in case.  I ignored the damp spot in my coat.  I’d be fine once this was done.  Like magic or something.  One choir I had to complete.  Billy’s pod was in fail safe mode, but I would fix that shortly.  I’d give him the closure he deserved and I could go on with my life elsewhere. Or what was left of it. I made it to the floor and stumble around the barrels situated by the copper tanks.  Immediately, I began hunting for the front of the machine.  The primary terminal regulating control over Billy’s pod.  The dull thrum bore deep into my brainmatter, but I only realized then that I’d left the sound behind in the corridor.  The white noise had followed me. I winced and held my chest as I scanned through the gray fog, struggling to stay on my feet as I sought both apparition and its control.  Embers shot off the metal plates of the Engine and I could smell burning.  God, I hated that smell, but I think it was the best thing I could have in my nose right now.  The Engine was overheating, it just might burst into flames when I shut down the systems.  Wouldn’t know until I initiated it.  I neared the front of the room with the glassed in upper floor.  Where the scientists monitored the Morphogenic Engine systems through the computers.  It was here, at the front.  I remember that much. When I escaped I’d have to find a safe place to lay low.  This was more than what I had bargained for.  With knowledge that Dr. Wernicke was alive and well following this, would only invite an unfortunate ‘accident’ for me in days to come.  Couldn’t risk losing my camera in the process, though it being so beat up might deter a theft.  But I needed to make copies of the files.  I needed medical attention foremost, someone I could trust.  I don’t know if I could make it that far.     Too much to think about.  Plan it as it came.  I located Billy’s pod at the front of Wernicke’s machine, and no more than three feet away the panel ablaze with sparks.  Frantic warnings all surging, demanding attention.  The experiment was doomed.  I dashed to it, jarred my side, didn’t give a fuck, and smashed the panel with my hand. Done and done.   The Engine gave a remorseful hum that rumbled through my body, as it clashed across the chiseled interior of the Morphogenic chamber.  It felt good.  I clasped the camera between my palms and leaned back as red warnings burned on the screen.  WARNING.  WARNING.  FAILSAFE SYSTEM OFF.   I shut my eyes against the offensive messages and gripped the camera a little tighter in my hands, focusing on the gaps between my fingers.  Like hell it was, let him die.  I braced my elbows on the panel and turned my head to witness as Billy began thrashing within his pod.  It looked painful.  As he withered the restraints in his chest and throat tore free, releasing his blood within the nutrient fluid.  I raised my camera to get all of this in, and exhaled a small breath.  It was over.  This nightmare was over and I could get the fuck out of here.  Nothing to stop me now. No more deformed giants, no more naked twins, no more fanatical priests.  Just the road ahead and me.  And my camera. The pod was turning black with blood and my stomach turned.  I looked away for a brief moment when something solid smashed into me from behind, causing my body to smack chest first into the pod.  My head was pounding and I felt the vision distort in my left eye.  My muscles stiffened, charged with energy and pain.  No.  No…  He was dead!  I tried to push myself back, while keeping in mind to LOCK my fingers on the cam— A powerful force wrenched me around and I let out a snarl as my ribs rubbed into my skin.  Staring me right in the face was the Walrider, or what was left of it.  The swarm was beginning to disperse, mutating the dark vapor into an insubstantial skeletal frame.  Each of its links and joints were exposed for scrutiny, even the network of miniscule tubes in the dark bone.  I couldn’t make out where its arms were but I could feel them dig through my coat, within my shoulders with needle like ends.  My vision flashed as it shoved me back against the pod, the back of my skull cracked on the hard surface and I saw a flash of red.  I smelt something odd, scorched cloth or blood.  Fluid dripped from my nose and slid across my lip.  The salty taste overwhelmed my senses. The swarm flashed out of sight and I found myself yelling, as I accelerated with alarming speed through the air by that piercing pain IN my arms.  A wall came into view through the steam, and I instinctively raised my arms before my skull could smash to bits.  I hit with such force my arms and coat sleeves barely absorbed my face.  My chest plowed HARD into the jagged stone, and an audible crack sounded somewhere in my muscle, over my strangled wail.  The Walrider vanished, for good I doubt.  I tumbled off the stone wall and hit the floor, rolling out of control.  The room was spinning, even when I came to a rest on my side.  I tried to hold my weight up off my tender ribs.  The plastic shell of my camera scrapped the polished floor as I shifted.  It was still in my grip…  This wasn’t over.  I needed to stash it somewhere safe.  I put my hand over it, feeling the fresh wet blood now spilling from the reopened wounds on my hands.  I needed to get away from here, get away from this area.  Who the fuck knew how long before the swarm dispersed completely. As I was getting off my knees, the insubstantial form materialized to some degree before me.  It gave a grinding hiss as it grabbed me by the shoulder, tearing into my muscles with its cold clutch and flung me high across the room.  I screamed as I sailed unaided through open air, until gravity delivered me to the floor and I flopped over and over.  Once the momentum abandoned me, I blinked and felt my consciousness dim.  ”Up Miles!  Get!  UP!” In my fall the cameras strap had loosened over my hand, I should try to fix that.  I braced my arms under my side and pushed up, and focused on the spherical pod full of dark matter.  Wasn’t that Billy’s pod?  It was getting hard to see because of the smog.  This is what I told myself.  In truth it was becoming difficult to see my hands beneath me.  It was because of what I’d done, but I had no choice. I had to fix their mistakes.  I had no idea how to finish it now.  How to kill Billy. I had only hurt him the worst way imaginable.  The only way he COULD be hurt.  I had become Billy Hope’s Nightmare.  I was now the Horerczy.  I was the only thing that could kill a Walrider. And he would prove to me, how wrong I was.

The shrieking wail shot through my eardrums, and the remains of the Walrider’s dark shape loomed over me.  The world became inaudible, in the one way I hated seeing the world.  Far away and under water.  I tried to focus on it and what it was up to, but all I managed was a wet cough.  This seemed to upset it, for when I looked up it had swept over the black pod and descended onto me.  It snared my midsection in its powerful grip and dragged me along the white floor.  I yowled and released the camera.  The bone in my finger tore at the cement as I tried to claw for a bump, a niche.  Enough to knock me loose!  Even if it descended upon me in the next moment and ripped me to pieces, I just wanted that one last second!  A pause in this torment! 

The Walrider ascended swiftly to a staggering height.  I gawped wide eyed and stared at the shrinking floor below, as I dangled upside down.  I moaned through my teeth as my weight bore down on its sharp form, and it repaid in kind by crushing my sides.  I felt something pop in my throat as I let out an agonized sob.  When we arrived at a desirable height I was flopped up, and crashed my back into the stone wall behind me.  My legs kick out seeking solid surface, some comfort that I’m not so high up.  In no way can I thrash free and dislodge my body from the unnatural grip tangled deep throughout my organs.  I lose some of my fight when the agony constricts my chest, and I give a weak twitch as this odd tingle works from my forehead down to my toes.  Death.  I’m dying.  I can’t believe I’m dying. 

The dimming form of the swarm pinned me here, and worked its hands into my chest.  I grappled with my coat, unable to feel or grip and dissuade its punishment.  Oh god, the sounds I made as its unnatural extremities wound through my cells and tangled with my nerves.  Pain.  Too much.  My legs kicked and twitched in a vain effort to dislodge my body.  The Walrider chattered and pressed deeper into my muscles.  No god, please….  I looked down to where it had buried its arms up to its elbows, and let out a choked sob.  No, please….  

”I don’t want to die…”

 The bloodshed throughout the Asylum, Chris Walker, ruptured corpses and scattered innards.  Everything I had been subjected to.  The images I had seen pulsed white hot, intensified in my mind like wild fire. Death, the insanity, the pain.  All of it burned through my mind as red soaked my memories.  How long ago had it been?  When was it last that I was alive? 

An anguished sound spilled from my throat as I was held there, suspended twenty feet above a stone floor. The swarm reinforced its inhuman grip on my sides, or slid deeper into my guts at its leisure.  Fuck, this was no damaged mind of a child.  This was a wild animal devoid of remorse.  This was pure evil. 

This… was my end. 

Gazing into the broken horror of science, my last sensations would be immeasurable pain followed by the release of the void.  I had fought this far, to die in the end.  What cruel irony.  With my fading strength I focused on its ‘face,’ and I swear there was a connection.  I don’t know if it recognized it, if Billy understood.  But I swear.  It was there. 

The Walrider paused in its reprieve to confirm my comprehension, my reservation for the fate it had planned for me, as all of its victims shared.  It could make this last forever if it wanted.  To ensure I had learned my lesson, that I knew my place.  It would let me die only because it allowed it.  But maybe I had already suffered enough.  Then, it lurched, or that could have been me slumped in its grip.  I watched blearily as it dispersed, dissolving from sight.  I sobbed out in revulsion as I felt the chilling sensation of its presence grind through my bones, into my muscle.  I gained enough consciousness to seize at my chest in a futile effort to hold my innards together the moment before they were expunged outwards, off of my skeleton.  

I became aware that something had gone wrong about two seconds later, when I was howling against the sudden exhilaration that override the pain in my body… as I fell twenty feet to solid cement.

My shoulder hit first and my leg came down hard next, and I actually heard something snap.  I felt the pierce of pain through my spine when the bone cracked.  I was stunned when I couldn’t decide where the injury occurred, my entire body burned with raw agony.  And yet, I was still conscious and alive.  I lay for a moment groaning, my mind resetting slowly as everything cleared.  The alarms still wailed.  Flashing red and white swirled through the room, but it wasn’t the grinding howl that had pounded my senses.  My migraine had suddenly cleared!  Instantaneous relief flooded my skull like waking up in a soft bed, after a long, deep sleep.  What happened?  Why? Carefully, I propped myself up to look around, stunned yet amazed.  The air was thick with burning computer components, the smog was growing heavier.  But of the threat.… Nothing. There was no swarm.  There was no Walrider.  Only the barrage of warnings and system errors as the stasis pod failed, and within it, its prisoner.  Billy was dead. I had done it.  My mission was over.  I had succeeded in surviving my final errand.  Why didn’t I feel good about it? A few feet from where I had plummeted was my trusted confident, my camera.  Did it still work?  I don’t think it mattered anymore.  I attempted to rise, but a sharp bolt of heat traveled up my leg.  The break.  I turned with sluggishness to check it, and noted the large black spot along the side of my coat.  No doubt the rib was exposed, I had no idea how bad the lung was punctured but with heavy despair I tasted the copious stain of copper on my tongue.  I had to get out of here.  Had to get up! How easy it would have been to lie down.  I braced my elbows on the cement and inhaled a careful breath, then let it out.  The floor was cool to my fevered body, and all the aches and breaks could just fade away.  I might never wake up, but that seemed fine.  Doctor Wernicke himself told me, I was meant to die here.  The moment I set foot through the open window of the Asylum, had sealed my fate.  I would never be allowed to leave.  Billy had made sure of that. Braced on my elbows, I pulled my body over onto my good leg and rest my weight to the knee.  I repeated this process, shuffling little by little until I had reached my camera.  Everything was on this.  Everything that was done here.  I’d be damned if I didn’t waste some precious energy to ensure its safe extraction.  However far I…. I fumbled a bit with its options, while I collected my fractured mind.  The camera clicked and the image was a bit distorted, but it worked.  I assured myself that the vital operations would continue to function, and I could lift the images off…. later.  Evidence.  Proof.  It needed to be confirmed on camera.  I did it.  I had done this.  I braced my side with an arm and leveled the camera to capture an image of the murky pod, and the now deceased William Hope.   “Billy is dead, the Walrider, the swarm, whatever it is, unmade with him.  Whether I escape or die here, I am free.”  For a beat I paused to look up from my notes and gaze distantly on my surroundings.  Gone.  Everything the scientists had hoped to achieve, undone by their creation, and executed by my hand.  I felt no pride in this, I just wanted out.  Out in any manner fate saw fit for me.  It would be a long walk to the exit in Block… in Block…. Fuck.  I knew where it was, and that’s what mattered.  I’d find my way there eventually. I secured my camera in its pack and pressed my palms to the floor, then inched my good leg under me.  Satisfied with its stability I pushed up, stumbling as the world spun.  The winding coil of pain worked through my bones and buried deep into my nerves.  Even if my legs were chopped off, I’d still walk out on those stumps.  Fuck you Trager.  Fuck you.  I would stand up.  I would walk out of here. The ringing in my head was near silent, and I didn’t take this as a good sign.  It felt like preempt shock.  My body was steady enough to stay upright, but my metabolism was crashing.  I was poisoned by the chemicals in my head and I needed medicine, something to stabilize my body before it killed me. Once I had my bearings I turned, making a slow trek towards the steps that rose to the Plexiglas chamber.  Shapes blurred around me, but I was certain without a doubt those were the steps I had staggered down at the beginning of the mad race.  If they were not, I had plenty of time to reflect as I made my way to them.  One careful step after the next, just take it easy.  There was no hurry.   Only the outer bone of my leg must have snapped.  I could get some weight on it but very little.  It allowed me to shuffle along, without grieving my ribs any more than necessary.  If I stopped moving at this point I might not be able to rouse myself from passing out The floor along with the yellow rail faded and I collapsed over the steps, coming up short on the metal grate as I caught myself on my elbow.  The shattering pain that I had anticipated upon my fall was absent.  Perhaps my adrenalin was out of control.  My body was in survival, panic mode.  The chemicals in my blood were poisoning my brain, from the overdose of adrenaline to whatever infections I might’ve picked up in the hellish sewers.  I took a breath and winced, feeling the tickling itch in my side where the rib had breached the skin.  There was little hope in my mind that I was going to live to see tomorrow. But damn, I would not die here.  Not here!  Not in the sewers.  Not in the basement.  Not here!  I pulled myself up by the rail and put my foot under me, I braced my knee over the next step and forced my good leg to lift my body, to burden my weight.  These were the last steps I would have to deal with, I could get up them.  It wouldn’t be the last thing I do here.  My feet were heavy, but I managed to get them over each rung and reach the clear sliding doors.  I braced myself along the edge of the doorway, and stumbled into the Morphogenic Engines control room.  My good leg for no other reason but to spite me gave out, and I crashed against the nearest desk.  I wheezed out a pitiful breath, it tasted like copper and salt had stained my throat.   C’mon.  The exit isn’t much further. I wanted to believe that.  Shove hope down my throat.  The exit was just down the hall, through the next set of doors after the first.  Those horrible doors.  It was, how many?  Fifty steps.  Fifty short steps, I could make that.  The desk was so comfortable though, sturdy and solid, and real.  I looked down at my knee crumpled under me.  The room whirled around my head, far away.  Hushed.  Beyond my dazed senses.  I was breathing hard, and a thin trail of drool had soaked a black patch in my filthy jeans.  Red drops were falling from my nose, and I barely realized that my nose was bleeding.  I wanted to pretend it was only a broken blood vessel caused by stress, but that was another one of those white lies.  I needed to stop trying to fool myself with those. Fifty steps.  I could make fifty steps.  What was fifty steps to me?  I’ve been running around this Asylum all evening.  It wasn’t that much further. I told myself this.   I promised myself these things. I had nothing left to keep me going on. The bright lights of the hall would have been comforting, if I wasn’t so burnt out on the clinical and detached feeling of the lab.  My vision distorted as I slumped against the doorframe.  Take a breath, a little pause.  Let my senses settle into place.  I thought I saw Dr. Trager waiting by the door, running his mouth like only he could.  But he looked the way he must have before whatever happened to him, complete with a fine lab coat blotted with blood.  He did dress like a white collar business douchebag.  Instead of golf clubs he had a syringe, and directed its sharp end into the side of my neck. I brushed Trager aside and persisted, he couldn’t stop me.  No one could stop me.  I felt myself falling again, my legs dissolved under my weight.  When did I become so heavy?  I braced my arm to the floor and tried to stay off the camera, I was slipping down to my side.  To just give in.  To just sink into the sleep and never wake up. The lights dimmed to some degree, or my eyes were shutting, but the Walrider hoisted me up and we continued.  We were so close to the doors, they were a few steps and a stumble away.  The chiseled white walls of the corridor seemed brighter, but its luminous intensity didn’t burn my eyes as it had in my previous trip through.  The air was calm, almost alarming to my overtaxed mind.  I tried to remind myself this was the way it was meant to be, when you were not cowering under a massive migraine.  This was sweet liberation from the pain.  I was just exhausted. I was getting near the exit of the Morphogenic wing now, and a wave of relief enveloped me.  A deadly contribution to my sick mind.  My steps faltered and I dropped, managing somehow to hit my cheek on the cement floor without cracking a tooth.  The Walrider waited beside me as my scattered mind cleared.  I heard Father Martin whisper something into my ear, the same as when he first found me.  I wanted to ask if there was a heaven waiting for me.  He only smiled, and the buzzing in my limbs murmured something with great urgency.  I just wanted the world to stop. The lights faded before I blinked back into clarity.  No.  Don’t sleep, don’t fall.  Not here.  I’m so close.  A small red puddle had gathered under my cheek, and I gladly lifted myself from it.  I took a moment to pull together, and swallow down the blood that lined my throat.  No more fading, no more pauses.  It was obvious by now I could not escape my fate, I had been fooling myself from the beginning.  For me, nothing lay beyond this place but death.  But goddamn it, I was NOT going to die inside these cold labs where so many had perished in the name of science.  I would get outside and I would die bathed in the warmth of the sun, knowing that I had beaten them all!  With that resolve whirring in my head I put my weight on my fist and pushed, rising up one last time.  Once and for all, I would make it out of this fucked up place.  I felt a bit of my strength returning as I shuffled forward, maybe I had been out for a minute, or an hour.  However long was enough.  I wasn’t stopping until I was finally in the sunlight. I was reminded briefly of my mutilations as I reached for the handles of the doors.  My index finger on my right hand, and my ring finger were— A sudden gust of air swept over my face as the doors swung outward.  I was not processing what was happening, as the click of weapons primed for assault were shoved at me.  Guns.  Assault rifles.  Held by soldiers.  MHS.  Special tactical cops, the same as the one that had warned me away seconds before his death.  Dazed, I wondered if he was still dead.  It took a half second before the panic finally latched onto my mind, the realization that this was happening.  This was really happening right here.  They were in my way, and they were going to kill me. Not armed!  I wasn’t armed!  Did they think I was dangerous, had they mistake me for a variant?  True, I had forgotten how god awful I must have looked, but I couldn’t help it!  I could hardly stand!  I put out my hands and limped back trying to warn them, but all that came out was a spray of blood as I exhaled a pitiful sound.  I sniffled, trying to clear the blood in my nose.  No!  Don’t do this.  Not when I was so fucking CLOSE! Then I saw him.  That man, whose corpse I had promised to fix nicely with a hacksaw.  Dr. Rudolf Wernicke amidst these militants, and waiting patiently for my requiem.  I fixed him with my eyes.  A look of betrayal?  A look of bafflement?  Why, after everything I have done for you, would you end me right here, right now?  I wanted to die in the fuckin sunlight! The first bullet hit before the piercing resonance shattered my thoughts.  I spun on my good leg upon receiving full impact, and manage to stay upright.  My vision blurred but I didn’t feel the pain, it hadn’t been recorded yet in my nerves.  Then, I thought I saw, right there.

My shadow….

Without a word, the hall is filled with the magazine chatter as the lead soldier emptied his arsenal in me. I was only grateful as I dropped, that about a fourth of the expense had lodged into my torso and hip.  Not like a concussion; not like a splitting migraine.  I’m still me, I can feel it settle deep in my marrow. 

This time it didn’t hurt to collapse to my backside.  A splash of blood hit me in the face, from about a dozen severed arteries. I had this odd sense of vertigo, an out of body experience as the darkness pooled over my eyes. Dying.  God, my bodies dying.  I can feel it - sliding off from me.  This is real, this is happening… In the now.  It’s sinking in.  The futility of it all… death.  My death.  It’s just… I’m losing touch.  Everything stopped inside me, and… I can’t restart it. 

 No.

In my last moments, I can ponder over the cruel irony. That no matter my hopes, my aspirations tangled into this god awful place.  Even the soldiers with their guns could not steal it all away.

I am free.

My consciousness drained out, and coalesced… elsewhere.  It was all over.  I was done.  Lost.  My vision blurred, dimmed.  I’m too damned tired to resist any longer.  Give in.  Sleep.  The world became a far off impression, a recollection in a pool that I could gaze down into, and saw only my reflection. It was all I had come to expect in the end; ragged, soaking red, and broken.

Forget….

Somewhere.  Someone stuttered in utter disbelief, “Gott im Himmel. You have become the host.”

That hissing whirr.  The static in my camera that I had grown accustomed to, filled my skull. The sounds of gun chatter persisted, and the frantic shrieks of men met my dulled senses. This crushing thought came over me as I accepted the void, the shadow, the emptiness of my failure. There would be no light waiting for me on the other side. There was no afterlife, no rest for my weary soul. Instead, I only saw red.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 5 - The Interview

It was Monday morning and Varian stood outside on the university grounds waiting. Hiro had told him that he was to meet with the school’s headmaster today. He needed to speak to this Professor Granville about obtaining supplies to build a new portal machine to send him home. 

Varian had never met a dean of a university before. He wanted to look his best to impress such an important person. He wore the white linen shirt he had bought on Saturday and a pair of the khaki dress pants, both pressed and ironed the night before, along with his Sapporian boots, polished and shined to match the black belt he wore. On his head, he still wore his customary goggles but he made sure to polish them as well. 

Wasabi had tried to comb and fix his hair this morning, but it was already back to its usual unkempt state. It hadn’t even stayed in place for twenty minutes before his swept back bangs started falling and the cowlick on top of his head started to spring back up despite the use of styling gel, much to Wasabi’s frustration. However, there was no time to fool with it any more as Wasabi had to leave early to take Ruddiger to the vet. 

Varian deeply appreciated the older teen’s assistance. For the duration of his stay, Wasabi had gone out of his way to help Varian and make him feel at home. Not asking for anything in return, nor walking back on any promises (no matter how much the existence of Ruddiger annoyed him), and going above and beyond anything a regular person from Varian’s world would do. He was far different from any other fair-weather ‘friend’ Varian previously had. 

They had spent the previous day hanging out together at the dormitory; with Wasabi teaching Varian various things about this new world and helping him and Ruddiger get situated. 

They set up the cage for Ruddiger to sleep in. There wasn't much room in the apartment for such a large kennel so they had to tuck it up under the kitchen table. Placing the pet bed and bowls of food and water inside. Ruddiger hated it. He much preferred the fake log that Varian wedged into the corner above the sofa; curling up there whenever possible.   

As for said sofa, Wasabi took the new sheets and blankets he’d bought and fixed them up into a proper bed. With the cushions tucked tightly into a fitted sheet and the new pillow fluffed up and placed at one end. 

Next to the couch they put up the small chest of drawers and organized Varian's new things. Helping him to set up his own little space inside the small apartment.

He also helped Varian set up his new phone. Teaching him how to make calls, text, and the myriad of secondary functions the device could perform. But the most impressive thing about the new phone was something called the internet. It was a worldwide information and communication exchange system. All of human kind’s accumulated knowledge, history, and personal banalities was a mere click away. 

Varian started off reading about the history of quantum physics on an online encyclopedia, which somehow led to him arguing with a person in someplace called Indiana over the exact meaning of the pentagram symbol on something called a public forum, and finally ending up watching a bunch of moving pictures, called video, of seals playing in the Antarctic. All in less than an hour. 

One could get lost in the sea of words, images, and sounds that this new invention had to offer. Varian could only marvel at just how smart and well educated the people of this world must be with such wells of information so easily accessible to the public at large. In his world, all they had were books and you could only get those that happened to be shipped to whatever area you lived in. Corona itself only had one bookstore, located on the island capital, if Varian wanted new reading material he either had to make a trip into town or hope that some of the traveling merchants had any on hand they were willing to part with. 

Thus the day had passed until Wasabi had to leave to go to work. In his absence, Varian did a bunch of chores. He took Ruddiger for a walk, cleaned up the washroom, and tried to cook dinner. 

He had wanted to surprise Wasabi with a good meal as a way of thank you. Unfortunately the little makeshift kitchen wasn't well stocked. Varian had very little to work with and some of the stuff on hand was unfamiliar to him. 

Worse, the only thing to cook with was the microwave and toaster. Wasabi had shown him how such appliances worked but he hadn't had much practice with them. 

Ultimately he had decided on fixing some oatmeal. That was easy enough and Wasabi had everything to cook it with. He poured the milk and oatmeal into a pot and placed it in the microwave and set the timer for thirty minutes. He then cut up some new tropical yellow fruit called bananas to go in it. Ruddiger loved the rare treat and Varian had to cut him his own banana slices so as to keep the animal from stealing their supper. 

Varian also tried out the toaster. The pieces of bread turned out a little darker than he had expected but all in all he was happy with his first attempt. He buttered them up and started on a second batch. 

He was just hunting down a sweetener to use in the oatmeal when Wasabi came home. 

The tall man nearly cried with joy when he spotted the newly cleaned bathroom.

"You … you cleaned? Like, you scrubbed down the shower and the sink and everything! And I didn't even have to ask you!?" 

"Well yeah. If I'm going to be staying here awhile I might as well do my part in maintaining the place" Varian said matter-of-factly, not understanding what the big deal was. 

"You don't get it. I've never had a roommate who would help out with chores. Trying to get those guys to even just fold laundry every once in a while was like pulling teeth. And I've gone through a lot of roommates in the past two years." Wasabi said with a weary tone at the end, as if recalling some of those failed partnerships. He then switched back to the present. "Thank you, man." He said with an appreciative smile. 

Varian was about to tell him that he was welcome, but then the microwave exploded. 

Sparks were flying from the sides and oatmeal came gushing out from the front. The interior light was flickering on and off and smoke poured out the back. 

Wasabi gave a little scream and ran past Varian to unplug the device before it caught on fire. 

Apparently one wasn't supposed to put metal into a microwave. Which Varian personally considered as a design flaw, but he kept this opinion to himself and instead profusely apologized. He promised to replace the machine but Wasabi only sighed and told him not to worry about it. 

All was not lost though as Wasabi ordered Chinese take out for dinner instead. Varian had to admit that the bowls of rice, vegetables, and meats covered in various sauces were far more substantial than the oatmeal he had had originally planned. In particular he enjoyed the pork dumplings. They reminded him of the pierogi he would make back home but with a thinner pasta shell instead of the thicker breading he used. 

Varian recalled yesterday's events and had only just resolved to make it up to Wasabi somehow, when he spotted Hiro walking towards him. 

He was talking to an older woman with short dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She was smartly dressed in a grey business suit and carried with her a folder and pen. 

Trailing behind the two of them, Baymax wobbled along. Not being able to keep up with his stubby legs. 

"He's really smart; He just doesn't understand our world fully. But, he can learn things real quick." Varian overheard Hiro say. He figured they were talking about him, and that the lady must be Professor Granville, but the older woman said nothing in response nor gave any indication that she was impressed by what Hiro was saying. 

"Oh there he is." Hiro pointed out to her. He waved at Varian and excitedly broke into a jog to meet him first. 

"Hey! Varian, this is Professor Granville. Professor Granville, this is Varian." Hiro introduced them as the woman came up to meet them.

Professor Granville did not hurry, she remained calm and composed as she walked over to join the two boys. She appeared almost regal like, to Varian; tall, aloof, and fully in charge. However, despite this cold demeanor, her face did break into a warm smile when she met Varian's gaze. 

"Ah, the boy who built the portal. Hiro has told me all about you. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

Her voice, while not unkind, did hold an air of authority to it. A tone that very much conveyed that this was her domain and that Varian was merely a guest in it. Like a queen meeting one of her newest subjects. 

Varian didn't know whether to wave hello, shake hands, or give a bow to the woman. Not that she gave him much choice. 

No sooner did he squeak out a faint 'hi' did she sail past him and opened one of the large double doors. 

"If you'll kindly follow me, we'll go ahead and begin your interview." She said while holding the door open for him. 

"Interview?" Varian echo. 

"Yes. All prospective students must complete a college interview if they are to attend SFIT." She said matter-of-factly. 

Varian looked at Hiro in confusion. He thought he was here to talk about gaining supplies for his experiments, not to become a student. Hiro however only gave him a shrug in reply. So Varian moved to follow the woman. 

"I'll meet you out here when you're done." Hiro said to him as he walked into the darkened hallway and Professor Granville closed the door behind her.

                                                   ----------------------

"Right this way." Professor Granville led her newest charge into an empty classroom. It was a spacious lecture hall with a desk at one end and upon the blackboard were mathematical equations written up. All of the staff had returned a week early from spring break to prepare for the coming summer semester and Granville had planned on continuing setting up for her next class after she was done admitting the new student. 

Hiro had explained the whole situation to her, about the portals and the kid from another world who had built them, and for her part she figured it best to go ahead and enroll him. That way he could have access to any materials he needed to continue with his experiments, a place to stay during that time, and more importantly she could help forge for him any legal documents that he would undoubtedly need to get by. Not to mention that if the boy could indeed deliver on his portals then it would be a great boon for the school and its reputation. 

"Have a seat please." She indicated for him to sit down in a chair that she had pulled up to the desk. He did so, and she sat on the other side and opened her folder.

“Now first I’ll need your full name.” She instructed as she clicked her pen and made ready to fill out the application form for him.  

“Varian.” The boy replied,“ uh, V-A-R-I-A-N”

She wrote the name he had spelled out down and waited for him to continue, only no other names were forthcoming. She looked up and asked,“And your last name?”

“I haven’t got one.”

“They don’t have last names where you come from?” She asked. The boy was from another world so who knew what other customs they had. 

“Oh no, there are people with last names.” He clarified. “It’s just I’m the only Varian in my village so there was never any need for one. If anyone ever referred to me by anything else it was usually either, you know, ‘Here’s Varian the alchemist’  or ‘There goes Quirin’s son.’” He paused briefly before explaining further, “Uh, Quirin’s my dad’s name.” 

“And how do you spell that?” 

“Q-U-I-R-I-N” He replied while the professor went back to writing. When done she looked back up and continued her line of questioning.

“Very well Mr. Quirinson, now I’ll need a former residency to put on your application. Mr. Hamada has already mentioned that your country of origin does not exist in our world, but I’ll need an equivalency to put on your official documents.” She took a globe that was sitting upon her desk and handed it to Varian. “Why don’t you see if you can find anything familiar and maybe we can glean a substitute from that.” 

Varian scanned the globe, gazing over the continent of Europe; his finger following its northern coastline on the map. Everything was jumbled up. Countries were missing, new ones he had never heard of before in their places, what kingdoms he did recognize had different borders to what he had previously known. Even the geography was different, with rivers, lakes, and mountain ranges appearing in different places. Everything was slightly off. As if someone had taken a map from his world and then proceeded to move everything slightly to the left. 

Finally, in his confusion, he found something. A small peninsula jutting out into the Baltic Sea, and next to it were the words The Curonian Spit. It didn't look exactly like his Corona and it was spelled differently, but it was a peninsula, it was on the northern sea, and it was in the general vicinity, northeast of France.  

"Uh, here." He said while pointing to his find. Professor Granville peered over the desk to see the tiny country his index finger nearly covered. 

"Kaliningrad Oblast." She read, curiously, before sitting back down and turning to her computer. She looked up the country in question. "Says here Kaliningrad was a former part of Germany and is now a territory of Russia. I don't suppose you speak either Russian or German do you?" 

"I speak both actually." Normally Varian would brag about just how many languages he did know, but for right now he was just confused. He still didn't fully understand why this barrage of questions was important. 

"Excellent!" The professor exclaimed. "We'll get a passport and a student visa for you in no time. Now I'll just need your date of birth." 

"March the 24th." 

"And the year." 

"1639." 

Professor Granville paused, and slowly looked up from the form she was filling out. 

"1639? As in 1639, A.D.?" She asked in disbelief. 

Varian nodded his head. 

"You are aware that it is currently the year 2015 in this world, right?" She continued. 

Varian could only stare blankly back at her and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Maybe our worlds have different calendars?" He offered up helpfully. 

"Must be." Granville agreed quietly. There was no way a child from the mid 1600s could possibly have invented an interdimensional portal, she thought. Out loud though she only asked. "How old are you, Mr. Quirinson?" 

"Sixteen." 

She wrote 03/24/1999 onto the form. "Now I'll need the name of the last school you attended and we'll be done with the formalities." 

"I..I've never been to school before." He stuttered, suddenly self-conscious. This was where he'd be rejected he knew. Poor farm boys didn't get fancy educations. She undoubtedly would decline to admit him and he'll be left scrambling for another means of rebuilding a machine to get home with.

"You've never been to school?" She asked, horrified. 

Varian squirmed in his seat. "Well you see," he explained, desperately trying to think of some way to salvage the situation, "there is a small school in the capital, but that's a good day's trip and Dad needed me to help around the far- uh, estate. Besides, I already knew how to read and write by the time I was old enough to go." He gave a half smile at the end, hoping his advanced reading skills would be enough to impress her. 

"And how did you manage to learn advanced physics and engineering?" She asked in disbelief. 

"Well, I read books, and studied the masters, like Copernicus, and did a lot of experimentation on my own. A lot of trial and error." He said this last bit dryly, personally recalling some of his past failures. 

"Sooo you're completely self-taught then?" She asked, still trying to make sense of this strange boy. 

Varian nodded his head. 

"Well, why don't we just put home-schooled on the application." She suddenly suggested with a wide smile and Varian internally sighed with relief with the knowledge that his past wasn't going to be held against him. 

"Now for some personal questions. Here at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, we pride ourselves on admitting the most dedicated and accomplished of students." Professor Granville proudly proclaimed. "Tell me what are some of your biggest accomplishments in the field of science?" 

"Uh…." Varian's brain froze. He had no real accomplishments. Everything he built either blew up, broke down, or worked in a way he hadn't originally intended.

"Come, come, no need to be shy." Granville encouraged. 

"Ummm…" 

The professor looked at him expectedly and Varian heard his heart pounding in his ears as his mind raced. 

"I invented a bath bomb!" He blurted out in haste. 

Professor Granville blinked back at him in surprise. "Well that wasn't what I was expecting," she said slowly,"but tell me about this 'bath bomb'." 

Varian wanted to sink into the ground. How stupid could he be? This world had everyday technology that was so far more advanced compared to Conora's that of course she wasn't going to be impressed by his makeshift cleaning supplies. But he had already said it out loud, might as well commit. 

"It's a small alchemical ball full of soap and hydrogen. So that when you throw it into a tub and ignite a flame underneath, it combines with the surrounding air to create condensation and voilà, instant bath." 

"Interesting," the woman said, and she did genuinely appear to be so as she adjusted her stance and leaned in a little with her arms upon the desk and hands clasped together. "And tell me what was the inspiration for this 'immediate bath'." 

"Well, umm, there isn't any running water in Corona and sometimes carrying water from the well or the river is a pain." Varian explained, then reflexively, under his breath and through gritted teeth, he added, "Or sometimes you might find yourself in a position where you can't bathe for over a year." 

He hadn't meant for this last part to be heard but Granville commented on it anyways. 

"You've been without running water for over a year?" She asked, concerned. 

"Oh, no. We've never had running water. It doesn't exist in our world." Varian corrected, hoping to distract from his previous comment. This however was not the correct thing to say as Professor Granville only furrowed her brow even further. 

For Granville's part, she was just simply bewildered and more than a little worried. When Hiro had first told her of the boy from another world, she had assumed he came from one similar to their own, or perhaps one that was even more advanced. She'd have never in a million years expected that the inventor of a portal device was from a world stuck before the pre-industrial era. Yet it all added up to appear that way; 17th century birthday, no running water, his biggest academic influence was Copernicus for crying out loud. How ever was the boy supposed to keep up with modern college level studies? And yet where else was he to go? 

So she pressed forward. Ignoring the growing doubt building in the back of her mind. 

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" She asked. 

She was met with only a blank stare from the young man sitting across from her. 

"For example, do you have any career aspirations or personal goals you would like to achieve?" She clarified. 

"Well, I'd like to go home and free my dad." The young boy said slowly. "I haven't given much thought to anything else?" 

"Free?" Granville asked, confused. 

"I mean, see again, obviously." Varian hastily rectified. But Granville was growing ever more concerned, the boy was hiding something. 

"Well I can understand why that would be a pressing matter to you, but surely you've given some thought to the future; some idea of where you might wind up." She encouraged him. 

"Jail?" The boy questioningly threw out. He looked wide eyed now, confused and lost as to what she meant and looking for an answer that clearly alluded him. 

"And why would you say that, Mr. Quirinson?" She pressed.

"Cause that's where I've been for the past year." The boy admitted. He was growing agitated and impatient. He didn't understand the point behind any of this and was slowly getting fed up with the woman's prying questions. Not the least of which because they made him feel self-conscious. 

"I see," the professor said as she began to piece together the clues. Granville had spent several years working in both academics and social services. She knew the signs of a 'problem' child when she saw it. Typically, young kids with unchallenged intellect, accompanied by perhaps a broken home life, would sometimes lash out or make trouble for themselves in an effort to receive attention. The boy's father was missing in some way and he grew up in an unstimulating environment that didn't encourage his creative genius. 

"And because of a mistake or two you don't see yourself rising up to doing anything else." she cajoled; sometimes a push could help inspire the aforementioned child to challenge himself. 

"No. Because they typically don't let you back out after you've committed high treason." He answered back bitterly. Headmaster or no, who did this woman think she was to make such sweeping judgements? He was properly angry now and no longer cared about making a good impression nor about keeping his past hidden. 

He quickly stood up and leaned over the desk to glower at her. "Look, I came here to get help not to be grilled about my past. If you're not interested in giving me the supplies I need then I'll find some other way to get them. But I am not giving up on my father." He angrily pounded his fist on to the desk to emphasize his point. 

Then almost immediately his demeanor changed when he looked back up to see the blackboard behind the professor. "Also the answer to that equation should be 2.6 not 4.6. Sorry that's been bugging me for the past ten minutes." He apologetically stammered in exasperation. 

Professor Granville turned and looked back at the offending equation in question. Glad for a momentary distraction from the growing tension in the room. 

The boy's mood swings were bewilderingly quick and the 'treason' comment had not been something she had been expecting. If he really was from the 17th century then 'treason' could mean anything, to being locked away for scientific study or for simply knowing the wrong people. Given his comments about his father needing 'freeing' she suspected the latter. 

The aforementioned equation was a long physics question with an answer provided, in order to serve as an example to the class. It was far too long to solve in one's head so she had to pull out a calculator and resubmit the numbers into the machine to check the boy's calculations. And to her surprise he was right. She had accidentally written the wrong number up on the board. 

"That...is correct." She replied, double checking the calculator she held in her hand. "You figured out this whole equation in your head in less than ten minutes?" She asked in disbelief. Granville had worked with many gifted students throughout her career, but scarcely any could perform such advanced mathematical problem solving in such record time without the aid of any tools; not even basic pen and paper. And this was made all the more impressive by the fact the child lacked a high school education or even the passing knowledge of more modern mathematical advancements, like those of Einstein. 

"How else would you do it?" Varian replied, not knowing any other way himself.

"A calculator," She responded, holding the device into the air. 

"Wait. You have a machine that does math!?" The boy exclaimed in equal parts disbelief and excitement. 

She nodded and handed the calculator to him. Which he eagerly snatched up, looked at it longingly, and then cradled the device to his cheek while proclaiming, "It's so beautiful," in the exaggerated manner kids often do. He then began to fiddle with the machine, testing out its various functions like a child that had just received a new video game for Christmas. 

"Where has this been all my life?" He excitedly laughed. This device would make checking his calculations ten times easier. 

Granville watched on, bewildered. Who was this child? How did someone from such a primitive world manage to invent such a scientific miracle? In all her 40 years she had never come across such a contradiction before. Just imagine what such a child could have achieved had he been born in a time and place that nurtured his natural talents. 

Then she shuddered as realization hit her. A short range teleportation device was his original intent, Hiro had told her, and Varian himself had mentioned prison and not being let out. And not just any prison, they weren't talking about juvie here, but a 1650s style dungeon no doubt. History wasn't her expertise, but Granville knew enough about that time period to know that he wouldn't have been fairly treated while within there. No telling what horrors the boy had faced in the past year or more. 

Her heart went out to him then and she could have just cried at the thought of this little teenaged boy huddled up in some dark dank stone room. She pushed the image out of her head and regained control of herself. Crying wouldn't help. But giving him the opportunities that had been denied to him thus far would. 

"Let's return to the interview shall we?" She said instead, slipping back into the role of professional administrator and taking her seat again. 

Varian looked up from the calculator he was playing with in confusion. He had assumed his previous outburst would disqualify him but Professor Granville gave him no time to question. 

"Now Hiro has informed me that you are currently staying on campus with Mr. Gari, how is that working out?" 

"Mr. Gari?" He echoed blankly. 

"I believe you and the rest of his friends refer to him as 'Wasabi'." she clarified. 

"Oh, yeah, he's great. Things are going fine." He replied, still confused. 

"Wonderful," the professor smiled back. "In that case we'll keep that arrangement for the upcoming semester." 

"Whatd'ya mean?" 

"I mean, Mr. Quirinson, welcome to SFIT." She said with a warm smile as she handed him a pre-typed acceptance letter that she had tucked inside the folder. 

Varian read the letter in bewilderment. He was being accepted into a university? Him? And not just any university, but one specifically for the study of science. He couldn't help but give a breathless laugh. He'd honestly never thought that he'd ever be given such a chance, especially after such a disastrous interview. But no, the woman at the desk seemed genuine in her approval. 

"Now if you'll just sign these forms you'll be granted a full four year scholarship, or until you finish, whichever comes first." She said as she slid the folder over to him and handed him her pen. 

He signed his name upon the dotted line as his stomach filled with giddy butterflies. It all hardly seemed real. His dad would never believe it. Oh how he wished he could run home, wrap him in a hug, and tell him right now. Surely something like this would make him so proud. 

He blinked back tears at that wishful thought and finished signing the other papers the professor handed to him. When done he looked back up at her and she said, "Good. Now because of your... unique, situation; there will be a few extra steps you'll have to complete before classes start next week. Which I'll talk to you about as I give you a tour of the facility."

With that she stood up and walked to the door and held it open, once again indicating for Varian to follow her.

                                                    ----------------------

Varian stood outside next to the physics building where he had first started the day, waiting for Hiro to join him. He leaned against the wall while sucking on a small lollipop the school’s nurse had given him. Professor Granville had given him a quick tour of the school, a folder full of important papers, and instructions for how to proceed with his education. The final stop was the medical office where she had left him with the nurse in order to attend to other business. 

Said nurse had given him the ‘vaccines’ that Wasabi had told him about; the near magical medicine that was supposed to prevent certain illnesses. The shots had stung a bit, but it was all over very quickly and the kind woman who administered the procedure gave him some colorful sticky bandages and let him pick his favorite flavor out of the bowl full of suckers sitting on her desk.     

He was just finishing off the last of the butterscotch flavored treat when Hiro finally found him. 

“Hey! There you are! How did it go?” He asked. 

“Well, she admitted me into the school but she said I had to do some stuff first before she could fully enroll me.” Varian replied.  

“Yeah, what kind of stuff?” 

“I have to take something called a ‘General Educational Development’ test and a ‘Scholastic Aptitude Test’. She gave me a study guide and was going to give me both tests on Friday.”

“Ah.. yeah, you wouldn’t have an eligible high school diploma here. But it’s fine. I took similar  tests in order to graduate early. They’re not that hard, the only thing that should trip you up is the history stuff, but we can all help you study for them.’ The young boy offered. 

Varian smiled back at him appreciatively. It was nice to know that he now had people in his life that he could depend upon for help.    

“So what else?” Hiro asked. 

“She also gave me an extended reading list. I don’t have to read every book on there in a week, thank goodness, but I’m to keep up with it for the rest of the school term so I can catch up on things that the rest of the students will already know. I also need to give her a ‘photograph’ of myself that she can put onto a passport and something called a ‘visa’.” Varian scratched the back of his head in confusion as he said this last bit. Apparently one needed lots of documents and forms in order to maneuver within this country's society. Granville had asked him all of those questions at the beginning of his interview precisely because she was going to help procure those official papers for him, or forge similar facsimiles that could do in a pinch. 

Hiro nodded along. “That makes sense. See it’s a good thing you met with her. Granville has connections that can help with things like that. Also she’s the only one who even thought of it to begin with.” He laughed. “Man, that would’ve been bad if someone like Chief Cruz found out you were here illegally. Anyways, you can take the ‘photograph’ using your new phone. I’ll help and show you how to email it to her. Wasabi set you up with an e-mail right?” 

Varian nodded yes. That was one of the functions of the internet that Wasabi showed him yesterday.  

“Great! I’ll also email you the stuff I found on Project Silent Sparrow. It’s the portal project that Krei Tech was working on.” 

So Hiro spent the rest of the day with him, with Baymax also tagging along, and together they helped Varian take his picture and send it to Professor Granville, gather up some of the books on the reading list from the library, and briefly went over the project files behind the portal that sent him here. 

After Hiro and Baymax had decided to go home, Varian made his way back to the dormitory. He couldn’t wait to tell Wasabi all that had happened. However, as soon as he opened the door he was met with the sight of Wasabi chasing Ruddiger around the apartment with a broom. Food, slimy shampoo, and various other items were strewn about the place and Wasabi was covered in soap bubbles while Ruddiger himself was sopping wet. Varian sighed and closed the door behind him. Looks like telling about his day would have to wait.

[pilot-boi]

Building Relationships: Chapter One

Setting out on your own was never easy, and Ruby had grown up with a large family. When left alone in the vastness of space, she really should have expected to get lonely. But she was fine.

What was technology for, anyway?

Or: Ruby Rose’s journey into emotional repression

Setting Out

New friends to be made, new places to see

AO3 LINK

Ruby hesitated in the doorway to her ship.

Her family’s house was dark, and she could hardly see it in the pale starlight. Varellex only had nighttime once a month, and Ruby had taken the opportunity to leave while everyone was asleep. She could picture her father and hatchmates all bundled up together under a mound of blankets, warm, happy, and completely unaware that she was missing. 

Ruby’s dad had been trying to convince her to stay for the past week and a half, ever since she'd bought her ship. It would be best if she left without his knowing.

Ruby’s ship hummed quietly as the power turned on. She- she hadn’t named it. Honestly, she didn’t really want to. Why’d a ship need a name anyway? It wasn’t alive. It was just a vessel. A tool. 

Besides, if she named it, she'd get attached, and then she'd probably lose it and feel worse because she'd named it. So it’d remain nameless. If anyone asked, she'd just make something up, probably.

Ruby watched Varellex fade into the distance, and then its three suns. Finally, she was on her own. Alone. She'd only been gone for a few hours, but she already missed her family. She could picture them all waking up to the first sunrise, realizing she was missing, searching for her. 

She felt a pang in her heart as she pictured her father running outside and noticing her missing ship. It- it was better this way. Besides, she'd make new friends out here. With all the species she'd seen and heard of, there had to be someone who’d care about her.

---

Several Months Later

Ruby’s stomach rumbled, and she froze. For a GAAP ship, her target was surprisingly poorly guarded. She'd only seen one person- an alien with a long curling tail and tufty hair like they’d experienced some kind of static shock -through the gaps in the ventilation. It was a pretty small ship, but even small ships had food. 

When Ruby was sure the GAAP agent hadn’t seen her, she kept crawling forward, finally reaching the kitchen. The walls were lined with cupboards, and two fridges sat on the opposite side of the room, beckoning Ruby towards them. Carefully, she slipped out of the vent and landed on the countertop. 

She made short work of the cupboards, grabbing whatever she could while leaving room to pull her sack back through the vent. Unable to resist, she popped one of the smallest cookies into her mouth. 

Finally, she stood in front of the fridges. 

Usually, she didn’t take anything from fridges. The doors were louder, and sometimes even locked. But this one wasn’t, and Ruby just knew there had to be something good inside. She cautiously pulled the door of the first fridge open.

“Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?”

Ruby turned around slowly. The alien was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, hands resting on the dual pistols at his sides.

“I’m gone,” Ruby said quickly, taking advantage of their confusion to scramble back onto the counters and into the vent.

“Wait! Come back!” the GAAP agent shouted. “I just wanna to talk to you!”

“I know the GAAP’s idea of talking!” Ruby called back. “I’m not plannin’ on dying today!”

“I’m not with them anymore!”

This made Ruby stop. He- he what? “You quit?” Ruby asked, popping her head out of the vent. The dude jumped in surprise, tail lashing anxiously behind him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I quit. I used to work for their information department, but I dug too deep and found things I didn’t agree with. So I quit.” He took his hands off his holsters and held them up placatingly. “Now can we talk?”

Ruby pulled herself out of the ventilation shaft and landed on the ground with a thud. “You’re not gonna shoot me?”

“No I’m not going to- why would I shoot you?”

“I stole your food.”

“Okay, that’s true, but I’m still not going to shoot you. I want to talk. The name’s Sun.”

Ruby hesitated. She didn’t feel comfortable telling a supposedly ex-GAAP agent her real name.

“Rose,” she said, deciding to go with her last name at least. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

Sun smiled. “Nice to meet you too, Rose, although I have a feeling that’s not your real name.” Rose opened her mouth to defend herself, but Sun shook his head. “That’s fine, dude. I get it. No reason to trust me, after all.” Sun began to walk down the hallway they were standing in, away from the kitchen. “Let me show you something.”

Ruby followed Sun from a short distance behind. Sun was right- Ruby didn’t trust him. Hopefully whatever he was showing her wasn’t a jail cell. Sun stopped at a large door, placing his hand on the scanner. He turned around to face Ruby as the doors slid open, and looked a little surprised to see Ruby so far behind.

“I don’t bite,” Sun teased as Ruby finally caught up. The wide sharp-toothed grin he shot her wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. Ruby just gave him a side-eye and let Sun enter the room first.

They appeared to be on the ship’s bridge. A large holographic screen showed the ship’s current course, and several smaller ones under it showed security footage from the cameras around the ship. Another screen sat to the right of the large one, and Sun perched on the chair in front of it. He began to scroll through several files before stopping on one.

“Take a look,” Sun said, rolling his chair out of the way so Ruby could get a closer look.

“That’s-” Ruby was stunned speechless. It was a file full of 3D blueprints for each model of ship the GAAP used. With these, Ruby would be able to memorize the layout of the ship she was going to rob before she was even on it.

“I have more,” Sun said, causing Ruby to spin around and face him. “I can track almost any ship registered by the GAAP from this console, and I know how many people should be on it, how well guarded it is, and what they’re carrying.”

“I need this,” Ruby said, staring wide-eyed at Sun. “All- all of it.”

“I can’t just give it to you,” Sun replied, laughing. “But stole my food, which I can respect even if it’s my freaking food.” He paused. “I’ll make you a deal though. I’ll tell you what ships are safe, and where all the best loot is, and you’ll give me a cut of the money. Sound good?”

Ruby glanced at the screen. Every single ship in the GAAP’s files, at her fingertips. She had to admit to herself, it wasn’t a bad deal. She'd be able to afford food without having to steal it, and she'd be able to get any parts she needed for her own ship, too. She extended her hand.

“Deal,” she said. “I’m using my own ship though. Yours smells too much like the GAAP.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sun said, shaking Ruby’s hand. “And you can keep the food you took. It looks like you need it more than I do.”

---

Back on her ship, Ruby finally finished stacking the cans of food in the cupboards. She and Sun had exchanged communicator signals and parted ways. She'd just gotten off a test call with her a short while ago. Finally, she'd have a steady means of income. 

Sun had even informed her of a black market planet called Nihill. Ruby would be able to buy and sell anything there without any suspicion. She still hadn’t told Sun her real name. Maybe someday, when Ruby really knew she could trust him.

---

Several Months Later

Ruby winced as she pulled the needle through and finished the suture. She'd gotten better at stitching her own injuries since she started taking on riskier missions. Some GLE agent had thrown a knife at her as she was escaping and managed to get a pretty nasty slice out of Ruby’s leg. 

Sun was lecturing her for being too reckless and taking the job even though she'd said it was too dangerous. Ruby wasn’t really paying attention. He was no better, after all.

“Ruby, are you even listening?” Sun asked with a sigh. They’d known each other for about a year now, and Ruby had finally built up the courage a couple weeks ago to tell Sun her real name.

“Sorry,” Ruby said, rolling her pant leg back down over her wound. “I was focused on my stitching.”

“I was saying you gotta go to a legit doc about some of your injuries,” Sun repeated. “I know you’re keeping them clean and whatever, but you really need someone with real medical knowledge to be taking a look at them.”

“I told you before, Sun,” Ruby countered, “I can’t just waltz into a hospital. A Velm alone is suspicious enough, but a Velm with knife and blaster injuries? I’d be arrested before they’d even consider tending to my wounds.”

“I know,” Sun admitted, leaning back in his chair. “You just gotta be more careful, dude. This is gettin’ ridiculous”

“I’ll try to figure something out,” Ruby said reassuringly. “Promise.”

Sun grinned his sharp-toothed smile and ended the call. Ruby leaned back in her own chair. She had been getting kind of lonely, and a doctor would be a helpful addition to the team. 

Still, she couldn’t have a real doctor. A real doctor would need food and sleep and money. An android would be expensive. A robot on the other hand, would be significantly cheaper, and the parts on their own would be even cheaper. How hard could building one be?

---

Very hard. Building a robot was very hard. Ruby had almost all the parts she needed, and a stack of programming chips. Finding the parts was easy. Figuring out how they went together was much harder. The body was taking her ages to put together, and her sleep-deprived state wasn’t helping. 

Ruby picked up one of several power cores she'd gotten, and began trying to fit it into what she'd deduced was where the power core went. When it didn’t fit, she tossed it back into the box and pulled out another. Didn’t fit. 

She tried several more before one finally clicked into place. The robot body jolted briefly and then settled back down. Ruby took a step back and looked at her creation. The only things missing were the hands and the head. As if on cue, Ruby’s communicator began ringing.

“Sun! Give me good news,” Ruby said, pressing the answer button.

“I’ve found where you can steal the hands you wanted,” Sun said, “and the head’s almost done. The only problem is the mouth.”

“What’s wrong with the mouth?” Ruby asked nervously.

“I couldn’t find a good one, so it looks a little messed up,” Sun answered. “But if you cover it up with one of those surgical masks you can hardly see it.”

Ruby shrugged. “I’ll take it.”

---

A few hours later, she was balanced on a small ledge inside a GAAP transport ship. Lines of different androids stood perfectly straight, waiting to be delivered to their jobs. Ruby scanned the perfect rows for the doctor androids, trying to ignore just how high up she was. Her vision swam when she made the mistake of looking directly below where she was standing. 

Get over it, she thought to herself, briefly closing her eyes to regain her composure. 

It took her a few minutes, but she finally spotted the doctor and nurse androids a few rows away. Two guards chatted idly outside the warehouse door. Nearly silently, Ruby climbed down the warehouse wall.

Ruby kept her body low to the ground as she approached the androids. According to Sun, there were alarms set in each part of the androids, since they sold for such a high price and they didn’t want thieves breaking in and taking them. 

Thieves like her.

Ruby would have to get out quickly, and remove minuscule trackers from the hands before getting back on her ship. A lot of work for just a pair of hands. Hopefully it’d be worth it. Ruby needed the best hands for the robot that would be stitching her up.

Ruby carefully detached the hands from the wrists. Alarms started beeping immediately. Every second counted now. She could hear the guards’ conversation come to an abrupt stop, and flinched as the door opened. 

She ducked inside the field of androids, desperately trying to find the trackers. The guards shouted for her to stop. Ruby quietly apologized and then pushed one of the androids over. 

It hit the one in front of it, and soon several rows of androids were crashing to the ground. The guards were in a panic, struggling to stop the domino effect and keep track of Ruby, who had conveniently just found the trackers. She deftly disposed of them and then began to climb back up the wall, sliding the hands into a satchel as she went.

“Stop! Thief!” One of the guards had their blaster aimed at Ruby.

“I have a name!” Ruby called back, narrowly dodging a shot, which sizzled the wall next to her. She had to resist the urge to scream as a blast shot straight through her tail, leaving the end of it dangling loosely. She slipped out through the sky light just as another blast almost hit her foot.

---

Ruby tossed the still-wriggling end of her tail into the garbage disposal and began wrapping the stump where it had detached in bandages.

“This is exactly why you need a doctor,” Sun said, frowning disapprovingly. “That was disgusting.”

“That,” Ruby said, tying off the bandages, “was nothing. I’ve lost the end of my tail more times than I can count. And it’s not disgusting- it’s perfectly natural.”

“But it’s your freaking tail!” he exclaimed, his own tail whipping angrily behind him. “I could freaking never, dude.” Sun shuddered in just the thought. “Whatever, the head’s done now. I’ll send it over once we end the call. Did you get the hands attached?”

Ruby shook her head. “I just got back here and had to cut off the end of my tail,” she said, sounding apologetic. “Haven’t exactly had the time yet.”

“I’ll let you go then,” Sun said, chuckling to himself. “Call me when that robot’s up and running, kay? Later, dude.”

Ruby waved and hummed her confirmation, then ended the call. She pulled the hands out of the satchel and turned them over. They were smooth and clean, with perfectly sculpted joints. Made to perform sutures and surgeries in minutes flat. Ruby pulled the tarp off of her robot and set to work.

[al-n-cartoons]

The Multiverse in a Blender, Chapter 2 Part 1

      The room was of a fairly large size, looking to have been designed with formal business meetings in mind. In the center of the room was a large, empty space, although the difference of faint dirt on the ground seemed to indicate that a large table had been recently moved for what might have been the first time since the building was first opened.

      Beside the wall nearest to the door was the table, long enough for a family of twenty to sit comfortably and with an oval top, on which various food items had been set precariously, every item seemed to be store bought. In place of the table at the room's center was a karaoke set, although it was currently unoccupied.

"Wow", said a boy with snow-white hair and murky, greenish skin, having just phased through the unlocked door, "Is this a meeting of heroes, or some eight year-old's birthday party?" He looked around, eyeing each person.

"We thought it would be best to break the ice and have some fun before anything crazy happened." Remarked a slightly older teen with olive skin, black sleek-back hair, and dark brown eyes. He wore a red biker jacket and orange-lensed goggles. He offered out a hand, "Hi, my name's Rex. This building is part of, well, what was my reality. Kind of glad to see the change, but moving that thing was a pain." He gestured towards the snack table with his other hand, internally cringing at how cold the undead boy's hand felt in his own, even through the gloves.

The white-haired teen smiled. A ringlet of light passed over him, leaving behind a lean-built, slightly slender person in its wake. His hair changed to black and eyes, once a chemical green, were now a light blue. His skin was light and lively. "I'm Danny, pleased to meet you."

"Oh, Phantom!" Called a voice Danny somewhat recognized. Both turned to see Ben, who'd been conversing with a bronze-skinned, aquamarine haired girl who looked older and more toned than even Rex. She eyed both of them, smiling a few seconds too late for it to have been her default. "That leaves Steven, Dexter, and the girls..." Ben muttered, more to himself then to anyone else.

"My sisters are carrying Dexter, they shouldn't be too long now." The virile-bodied girl assured.

The boy with goggles gave a hearty laugh, "The first non-charity party you've thrown, and only three guests show. Wow, Ben, you're worse then Six."

Ben gapped like an earthbound fish, "You did not just say that!" The mock-offense in Ben's voice only made Rex laugh harder, pleased with himself.

"Preeeetty sure I did."

The door opened, gently, politely, as though the newcomer were slightly bashful. "Sorry if I'm late." A teen as old as Rex and almost as tall voiced, "Lion was having some difficulty teleporting, considering..."

"Yeah, I'd imagine teleporting would be a bit difficult after the 'retcon'." Ben remarked, assuringly. He noticed the box the other person held, "Whatcha got there?" He queried. "Oh, guys, this is Steven." A pause, filled with a curious glance by each person. "...You can let go of the door now." Ben eventually said after Steven remained attached to the entrance.

Steven cleared his throat, "I know you said to come alone, but that wouldn't be fair...I wasn't the only one to remember." He explained, widening the doorway. "This is my girlfriend, Connie, and my best bud, Lion."

"Oh." Came Ben's clever response. Danny stiffened, feeling exposed; Rex waved uncaringly; and the eldest simply stared. Lion, unaffected by anything or one, brushed passed the couple and made a beeline for the snacks, before flopping gracelessly into a sleeping pile by the end of the table. 

"Welcome to the party." Rex said boldly, "Just know that no one'll believe you if you go and spout stuff about the 'retcon'."

Connie furrowed her brow, "You're calling it the 'retcon'?" She asked, almost in disbelief.

"Not my idea." Rex answered with a casual shrug.

Ben passed his gaze around the room, "Well, it's not like we didn't consider the possibility of someone bringing an extra. I just thought it would be Rex or Buttercup."

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Connie asked, slightly annoyed at their reactions.

"It's just that some of us are still trying to keep our identities on the down-low." Rex assured, nodding to the youngest currently present, "Namely ghost-boy over here."

"Ah." She locked eyes with Danny, "Alright. I swear on my grandma's grave that I won't tell."

"Oh, my god!" Groaned a voice from behind the door, making the duo jump. "Are we just going to stare at each other, or are we going to DO something?!" Her voice was boisterous and utterly impatient.

"Buttercup!" Chided another voice. Connie and Steven moved aside, allowing for four others to enter the room. The tallest was the second speaker, with silky ribbons of hair extending to her waist and a definite theme of pink and red in her attire. The first speaker was a boyish girl, nearly as tall, with short black hair and uncanny green eyes. She was dressed with green and black, punk-like in style. The last girl had bright blond hair in pigtails, blue eyes with matching clothes, and a definite spring to her step. The fourth person, shorter then the rest and quietly fuming to himself, was a teen boy with rather normal ginger hair-contrasting the other three by a lack of unnatural vibrancy-purple gloves and boots, black turtle neck and pants, and a lab coat which reached his thighs. He either hadn't gotten word that the event would be of a more laid back nature, or he simply didn't care.

      "Don't be so rude! We're trying to make a good impression, for once." The redhead exasperated.

"Hey, Dexter, did you enjoy your trip? I hear you took the scenic route." Ben teased to the far shorter teen, whose scowl only deepened and cheeks tinged a slight pink.

"Your question, Mr. Tennyson, is unappreciated. Likewise with my sister, Buttercup, in that SHE KEPT SWINGING ME!!" Dexter monotoned, before ascending into an accusatory shout.

The blond and redhead laughed at their brother's expense, Rex giving a guffaw. Ben, on his part, was at least trying to stifle his amusement.

"So, that makes everyone." The first girl noted.

"Not everyone." Ben interjected, "But Zak met a...complication. I don't think he'll be coming."

"I made a cake." Steven commented, holding up the box.

"Sweet! Buttercup cried, ecstatic, "Finally a desert that actually tastes good for a change." She cast a disproving look to the party dish the second sister held.

Blossom gave a huff, "I'll have you know that my confections are a healthful delight, unlike the cavity-inducing blobs of sugar you scarf down!"

"Alright, alright, settle down." The eldest sister remarked. "Oh, by the way, my name is Bliss, and those are my siblings Blossom, Buttercup, Bubbles,–and Dexter."

       "One of these things aren't like the other." Rex whispered to Ben.

      "Neither are you compared to Six or Holiday." Ben returned, giving the taller teen an amused look. Rex raised a brow, taking a moment before finally comprehending, making an 'O' shape with his mouth.

      "Did someone say 'karaoke machine'?" Steven suddenly asked.

      "Literally no one said that."  Connie responded. Undeterred, the stout gem neared the microphone, making quick work of the music selections.

      "Hm, I'm not really seeing any songs I like here." Steven hummed while scrolling.

      "Have you tried sorting by genre?" Blossom asked, setting up her powdery cookies among the other snacks, her sisters cringing behind her but Dexter simply taking up a plate and various food-items.

      "It doesn't come with that option."

      "How about some music roulette?" Ben offered. Upon receiving little more than bemusement flash across their collective countenance, he gave a quick description, "We set the music to randomize, turn on an auto-reset timer, then take turns singing the songs. If a person drops the beat on their turn, they lose."

      "Is it like multiple songs, multiple bits of different songs, or just one song?" Steven asked, liking the idea of the game.

      "That's the beauty of it; we don't know. This thing has whole songs, mixed vocals, and more! Zak and I play it sometimes, but my cousin, Lucy, came up with it."

      Steven beamed, giving an excited little clap, "Ah! Cool, sign me up, then."

      "Just so we're clear..." Connie said, slowly, "All we have to do is keep the beat up, not necessarily follow the lyrics, right?"

      Ben frowned thoughtfully, "Well, we've always tried to keep to the original, but there's nothing saying that we can't mess around with the words." He mused.

      Ben moved swiftly, setting up a timer on his phone before taping the screen of the karaoke machine, allowing it to play at random. The beat that came was pop, easily, and slightly formulaic in its repetition. Ben waved a hand to an empty bottle, spun it, then pointed to Connie upon its landing neck-wards at her.

      "Hey, so, we're off to flee,

      so, come 'n take me,

      so, it could be fun.~" She sang, the music quick and disallowing for much breath.