#step alien au

[spacesimp]

just an average american family nothing to see here!!!

(hello solar opposites tumblr :3)

Bonus The Baby 💚

[constellation-skirmishes]

togruta anakin design because @tranakin-skywalker put the idea in my head bc their art is lovely and i will never stop thinking about it.

so i based him off of several different desert lizards, bc tranakin made some great points abt the skywalkers having been on tatooine for several generations already, so adaptations would have started to occur. and i ran with that concept.

lizards i used for reference:

-texas horned devil [lizard]

-armadillo lizard

-spike-crested lizard

[fbfh]

Kit Walker kisses your belly good morning and good night, hello and goodbye every day for your entire pregnancy. he holds you tight in his arms, palms flat on your back and waist, and presses a big smooch to your lips, then one to your belly. he addresses you as his two favorite people, his sweethearts, his babies. Kit presses kisses into your neck while he rubs his hands on your belly, astounded at the life you have growing inside it, the life you made together. Kit rubs your shoulders when they get stiff and makes you tea before bed. he insists you sit down and rest as often as possible, and has a newfound appreciation for everything you do to make your house into a warm inviting home, even more than he did before. Kit reads books on childcare every night before bed, and probably knows as much as you do if not more by now. Kit takes you to all your doctor's appointments, he hasn't missed one and he doesn't plan on it. Kit helps you decorate the nursery just like you planned, down to every last detail. The ceiling trim, the curtains, the way he arranged the toys, even the color of the woodstain on the rocking chair are all exactly like you wanted. He saw how many long hours you put into planning it out, and he's determined to execute it to the nines. It paid off, the nursery is both your favorite room in the whole house. Sometimes he walks around there while you're asleep, making sure it's as perfect as he left it last time (it always is). He looks through the toys, wondering how they'll change with age and love, looks through the books, figuring out what order to read them all to your baby. he grabs one or two to read now for practice, so he can get all the voices right by the time baby is here. you wake up from your nap to find him close by, reading Beatrix Potter stories softly to himself, to your baby. he keeps glancing up once in a while at your belly, hoping junior can hear him in there. once you're up he kisses you, then kisses your baby, just like he always does. Kit Walker is so excited to be a dad, so excited for you to be parents, and he wouldn't want to do it with anyone else.

[approximately12lbs-of-ducks]

I’ve started reading One Step Out of the Pit and I am LOVING it so far!! I’m on chapter six or seven, I think :0

YEEEEEEAAAAAA IM SO GLAD it’s. SO GOOD adriana is so BASED AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love Ghostbur and I love BAMF tubbo and i love how well adriana does foreshadowing and i lvoe bedrock bros it’s. SO GOOD one of my favouritge details is Tommy’s entire journey with tea/caffeine how they learn to not give tommy caffeine the hard way lmao

[ilovebeingaturtle]

professor honeycutt? (I forget how to spell it lol)

He goes Beep Boop💜

[alien-girl-21]

I'll crawl home

A little mce modern au drabble i wrote yesterday bc i was inspired :)

–Aquí tienes el dinero —un fajo de billetes reposó en sus manos—. Pon atención a tu celular, te voy a llamar cuando te necesite.

            –Está bien —su voz era rasposa, aclaró su garganta antes de volver a hablar—. No voy a estar libre hoy.

            –¿Tengo cara de que me importa?

Rodó sus ojos, guardando el fajo en el bolsillo interno de su chaqueta y saliendo de la casa. Observó sus alrededores, ¿Por qué tenía que vivir en medio de la nada? La caminata hasta encontrar alguna estación de bus que lo lleve hasta el apartamento le tomaría una media hora, pero probablemente era muy tarde como para entrar y pedir que lo lleven de vuelta a la ciudad.

Caminó lentamente por la carretera, escuchando sus pasos contra el asfalto y el ocasional zumbar de un auto que corría por la zona. A veces se preguntaba porqué se hacía esto a sí mismo. Claro, la paga valía la pena, pero había un punto donde ese fajo de billetes parecía más una pesa que una ventaja. Siempre era lo mismo: recibía un mensaje con alguna variación de “quiero verte”, un auto aparecía en donde sea que estuviera al instante y terminaba en aquella mansión de pisos de mármol y candelabros colgando en el techo, tenía los mejores orgasmos que había tenido en su vida, pero su cuerpo terminaba lleno de moretones y heridas en el proceso. Muchas veces salía por la puerta principal queriendo romper en llanto.

Era como un círculo vicioso por el cual no veía modo de salir. No importara lo que hiciera, siempre terminaría lastimado, o lastimando a los que quiere. Si exponía lo que estaba pasando entre él y Xocas, tendría a todos los estúpidos secuaces de este detrás de él; si se iba sin decir nada, su cabeza probablemente tendría precio a la segunda llamada no contestada; si se quedaba, probablemente seguiría con esta misma rutina que ya lo estaba carcomiendo. No encontraba escapatoria alguna, solamente el estúpido plan de Mariana y Roier de matar a Xocas, pero eso era una sentencia de muerte esperando a los dos, si él se unía sería como detonar una bomba nuclear. Así que estaba destinado a quedarse ahí por cuanto tiempo el hombre lo necesite.

Mientras sus pies se arrastraban por el asfalto, sus sentidos se agudizaban, sentía que todos lo estaban mirando. Los autos pasando bajaban un poco la velocidad para preguntarse qué hacía ahí, los vecinos de las otras casas echaban un ojo a la ventana, reconociéndolo y rodando sus ojos en irritación. Hasta los pájaros que se posaban en los árboles lo estaban juzgando. A pesar de que esta no era su primera vez haciendo esta caminata de la vergüenza, se sentía como la primera vez, sus mejillas levemente enrojecidas, su mirada pegada en el piso y manos en sus bolsillos, tratando de hacerse lo más pequeño posible; tal vez así nadie se daría cuenta de que estaba ahí. Tan solo tenía que seguir mirando el piso y esperar ver ese pequeño pedazo de acera donde estaba la estación del bus.

Después de lo que parecieron años, logró ver la acerca, finalmente levantando la mirada y observando el pequeño banco con una señal amarilla con un bus completamente vacía. Finalmente dejó de arrastrar sus pies por el piso y comenzó a caminar hacia el banco, sentándose y dejando su cuerpo descansar desde que se había levantado de la cama para ponerse su ropa. No sabía cuanto tiempo tomaría para que un bus pare, pero realmente no importaba, ese pequeño banco de metal era su lugar seguro.

Pasaron diez minutos antes de que un bus parara, el cual lo hizo de una manera apresurada, como si no esperara que alguien estuviera en la pequeña estación en medio de una carreta, y tenía razón para hacerlo, si no fuera por él sentándose ahí de vez en cuando, el banco ya hubiera sido consumido por la vegetación. Al menos el conductor sí paró esta vez. Se subió y agradeció al conductor por parar, tomando asiento en los asientos del fondo y comenzando a mirar hacia la ventana. El fajo de billetes en su bolsillo parecía no estar ahí y el murmullo de las ruedas corriendo por el asfalto ya no era aterrador.

Lo bueno de la casa donde vivía era que la estación del bus quedaba a una cuadra, era la ubicación perfecta para un grupo de personas que no querían comprar autos, o que se los viera usando algún modo de transporte privado. También era perfecto para momentos como estos, donde salía sin pensar dos veces y tenía que regresar solo a la casa. Tocó el timbre para indicar que quería bajar en la siguiente parada, y después de volver a agradecer al conductor, bajó del bus y fue recibido por el olor a monóxido de carbono de la ciudad, extrañamente, era reconfortante a diferencia del aire puro que había en la casa de Xocas. Sus pies comenzaron a caminar hacia la casa, ya no tenía que pensarlo, este pequeño viaje era como estar en piloto automático. No tenía que pensar en la vuelta que tenía que dar en la esquina, ni como no tocaba las rayas en la acera, o como solamente pisaba las piedras pequeñas que lo llevaban a la puerta principal, ni como su mano derecha agarraba sus llaves y abría la puerta sin dificultad. Una ejecución perfecta de sus rituales diarios.

Escuchó el sonido de la tele desde la sala, haciendo que asome su cabeza hacia el cuarto, observando la tele en una película que probablemente nunca había visto un estreno en el cine. Shadoune estaba sentado en el sillón, hipnotizado por lo que estaba viendo. No notó que había llegado, o que estaba comenzando a moverse hacia él. Sí notó como se acurrucaba a su lado en el sillón.

            –Quackity —su nombre sonaba como un peluche cuando salía de sus labios—. ¿A dónde fuiste?

No respondió, llevando sus pies hacia su pecho.

            –¿Quieres hablar sobre ello? —negó con la cabeza—. ¿Quieres quedarte aquí? —asintió—. ¿Quieres que te abrace? —volvió a asentir, eso siendo suficiente como para que Shadoune ponga su brazo alrededor de sus hombros, dejando que entierre su cuerpo contra su costado.

Volvió a relajarse.

Aunque Shadoune no lo supiera, esto era exactamente lo que necesitaba, y siempre estaría agradecido con él por dejarle ocultar su rostro en su pecho mientras sentía sus dedos crear diseños en su espalda.  

----------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @itsoverfeeling @hungrycrazy

[welcometomybraincomics]

Mother

Context! Context! Context!

I cannot state enough how much I love Mother. This one is actually a departure from Robits, what I call the Mother AU.

Setting: Vole and Streaker (named Lo-fi and Streaker at the time of writing) are not Cybertronians or created by them, but rather AI weapons made by the species invading Mother (the planet). At some point during their activation, they became sentient. They are deployed to help destroy Mother's guardians (her ambulatory plant children who imitate various creatures) and they are defeated. Sensing their sentience, Mother decides to turn the twins to her side. She enveloped them within her and breathed more life into them, granting them some semblance of free will (considering everything on Mother is sort of part of a hivemind, true free will is... not natural), imbuing them with loyalty and purpose (she revived them, they have now been charged with protecting her and her children), and blessing them with her mark (the mark of Mother is the evidence of plant life woven into the flesh/faux flesh).

------------------------------------------

He stared into the lifeless eyes of the creature squatting in the mist. It looked like nothing he had ever seen before: long skinny forelimbs swept the ground, leaving ripples in the shallow waters of the dark swamp as equally skinny hind legs held its frail body erect. A mop of wilting leaves brushed over its face and head, hanging low over the rest of its stark white form reminding Lo-Fi of a weeping willow. 

Its bone-white body stood out against the dark swamp, even surrounded by mist. It sat crouched behind the shriveled root of some long-dead tree that sank sadly into the black water beneath it.

It gave him an odd feeling, one he couldn't quite describe. It felt foreign, but not in the same way invaders did. Those felt like vermin scuttling across Mother's skin, sending chills up his spine and filling him with hot and ugly anger. This? It felt almost dangerous. Everything about it filled him with a deep sense of wrong like it did not belong on Mother. That couldn't be right though, Mother's mark hung from its head, the branches leaving just enough space for the eyes to peek through. It looked of Mother, but it felt indescribably wrong. It made him want to do nothing but run deep into the forest and hide under the safe roots of the Great Elders. He couldn't though. Its gaze held him in place, as though if he looked away, even for an instant, it would be upon him, crushing him with its menacing air. 

—-

For a little more context look at Robits, The Epic Train Wreck Dumpsterfire of a Transformers sidestory AU

So, he didn't run. He held its gaze, staring at it for what felt like hours. It tilted its head to the side, almost quizzically, its willow branches dragging through the water and causing a ripple that sounded impossibly loud in the silence of the misty bog. The creature lifted a forearm and began moving forward on its knuckles.

Its movement sent his systems into panic, trying to pull up his weapons and a monstrous sense of dread rose in his chest and pressed his back, crushing him from both sides. His servos clicked frantically, trying to transform into any sort of weaponry, but nothing happened. He felt his head heating up as his ventilation systems failed to activate. He frantically opened his vents hoping for cool air to naturally circulate through him, relieving his overheating circuits, but all that came in was an unmistakable feeling of death and decay.  

The creature brought its other arm forward, taking another step closer to the helplessly panicking mech when a twig snapped somewhere behind it and the whole world spun into darkness. Suddenly, Lo-Fi found himself sitting up, weapons drawn and ventilating hard. His head swung around manically, his eyes taking in the view of a bright clearing filled with sunlight and surrounded by tall, healthy trees filled with green leaves and beautiful flowers. He began to calm down, recognizing his surroundings. He was home. Deep in the heart of the forest, surrounded by life and sound which warmed his mechanical heart. He sucked in a deep breath and listened to the sounds of bird song, insect chirps, and the rustle of leaves that indicated someone was on the hunt. He exhaled and disengaged his weapons. 

He looked beside him to the sleeping form of his brother whose red plating reflected the sun in brilliant white beams. His arms were wrapped around the leafy pelt of Nex, whose feline eyes boreholes of concern through the blue mech as his brother snored peacefully.

"You alright?" She asked, one ear twitching in concern.

"Yeah, I think so." Lo-Fi answered, breathing shakily. His friend continued to stare at him in concern. "It was just a bad dream." He smiled trying to reassure her.

She slipped out of  Streaker's hold and stalked towards Lo-Fi. The red mech grumbled something at her leaving but rolled over to take the warm spot she had left in the grass and settled back into sleep, his wings twitching lightly in what was likely a dream of flying. "Must have been some dream for you to freak out like that." Nex mused, brushing herself comfortingly against Lo-Fi's blue metal before settling against his back and wrapping her tail around him. "Wanna talk about it?"

Lo-Fi could still feel the eyes of that thing staring into him with its dead, hollow eyes. He shivered all over, his plates clinging together as they each moved independently to try and shake the ugly feeling of those eyes. No way in hell he was going to relive that all again when he had just escaped it. He shook his head. “No, not right now. Anything but that now. I need something to distract me. How’s your training to become the Mammalian Elder going?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

Nex gave him a concerned look before answering.

~~~

By the time Streaker had woken up, his brother and Nex were neck-deep in a conversation about politics. Uhg, boring. He didn’t bother interrupting, knowing they would be too engrossed to even notice him, transformed and went to go find his charges. Surely, the insectoids would have something more interesting than politics to talk about. He scoffed at the thought as he dove through the clouds. Who would willingly talk about that? It was so boring and confusing, all it ever did was give everyone a headache. He sighed heavily as he flew over the forest and allowed the view to rip everything else from his mind. 

His charges were exactly where he thought he would find them. Right by the entrance to their cave already eating their breakfast. They had always been early risers. Said it had something to do with “getting the best grub,” what that had to do with getting up when the sun rises he had no idea. 

“Hey, sprouts,” He said, transforming from a plane back into his bipedal form and landing a few feet away from the two insectoids. “What are the plans for today?”

Shesq shrugged nibbling on an aphid. “Nothing much, just entering the last few lines of code for the suits and repairing the damage from the last attack.”

Skela nodded, shoving the last bites of whatever bug she had managed to capture into her mandibles. Streaker couldn’t be sure of what it was today, she never really stuck to a strict diet, but from what he saw from the air, it looked like she had nabbed a big one today. Somehow, between him spotting the sisters' camp and landing, she had managed to devour the entire thing. It was kind of scary how fast she ate. “We were hoping you and Elder Blue could help us with some of it. A lot of the code got corrupted by the foreigners and we can’t quite remember all of it.”

The mechanoid leaned against a tree and nodded. He had first-hand experience with the code corrupting virus their planet’s attackers had created to try and decommission the tech which protected Mother’s surface. Originally, that had only been he and his brother, but they had spent the last few decades constructing mechanical weapons and suits for the other defenders to use so the virus’s use had spread. Thankfully, they had taught most of the pilots and gunners the ins and outs of their weapon’s programming and mechanics so they didn’t have to travel halfway across the planet every time something broke. The sisters, however, were only sprouts, practically fresh out of the ground, their marks hadn’t even fully come in yet, so it was only logical that they would still need some help. “Yeah, of course. Lo-Fi’s doing something right now, but I can help.” He walked into the cave where two mech suits lay dormant, waiting for their next use. “I’ve got a firewall that we’ve been working on to repel the viruses too.” He climbed up on one of the mechs, straddling its neck so he would have a good hold, opened up an access panel on the back of its head, and typed in a few passwords, opening up the coding. “What are you guys stuck on?”

The gorls, for reference

[fics-lovebot]

jungkook fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

e.r means established relationship

disclaimer: if you came back to read that one fire fic you liked but can´t find it, its bc the link wasn´t working anymore so I deleted it :/

last updated: 08/08/2024

yandere / mafia / bad boy

bloody love - ( @hongjoongscafe ) smutty, king jk, evil jk, obsessed jk, posessive jk, blood thirsty jk like fr, he honestly loves bathing in the blood of those who did him wrong in his eyes, reader is lgb. this is an on going series but I´LL BE DAMNED IF IT ISN´T THE BEST THING I´VE READ in a minute!!, the writing its so captivating, not a single dull or boring moment, i can´t wait for the next part tbh

romantic dreams - ( @kooktrash ) yandere!jungkook, tattoo artist jk, boxer!jk, UGHH ITS GOODDD, he´s so toxic frfr, namjoon is sick of his ass lmao, totally obsessed with reader, jealous and possesive af, he´s crazy sdlfjs but i´m into it

toxic noona - ( @aajjks ) yandere!noona, toxic controling relationship, jk is a victim, he´d rather die than leave, reader likes to make him cry, manipulation

crafting new memories - ( @peachypinkygloss ) yandere!jk FR, stockholm syndrome, jk kiddnaped reader and fucks her while making her watch herself on the news,,,her own missing sign

yours insanely - ( @smileyoongle ) yandere!jk, serial killer jk, detective!reader, he kills women who look like you, so interesting to read

darknet - ( @darkestcorners ) yandere!jk, the internet is scary, human trafficking, jk is scary dangerous, it´s a LOT, just wow

who is in control? - ( @ctrlsht ) yandere-ish, lawyer!jk, posessive jk, obsessive jk, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, secret relationship, he´s cray-cray

hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au / alien au

bunnytalk - ( @woncon ) bunny hybrid jk, owner reader, jk is a sad bunny bc reader won´t return his feelings but it´s all just a misunderstanding

night vision - ( @bonny-kookoo  ) e.r, alien!jk, suggestive, lowkey smut, bunny hybrid reader, jk has tentacles ,,,,,nothing else to say, flirty fluffy jk, this is dIFFERENTTTT i love it

closer - ( @blublublujk ) smut, step siblings au, noona reader, yandere!jk, jk is obsessed with him older step sister, WHEWWW this is intense, very detailed, loved it

slice of life / university au / idol jk

you make him go crazy - ( @onlyswan ) fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way

you wear his clothes - ( @nochukoo97 ) fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd

call me soon - ( @peachypinkygloss ) summer break up, strangers to fwb to lovers, obsessed jk

screw up; over wine - ( @koocycle ) finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way

kiss me better - ( @jaykaysthicthighs ) angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way

you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - ( @thvhoe ) e.r, its cuteeeee

couple questions with vogue - ( @kjdkive ) fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute

devoted to trouble - ( @jeonsweetpea ) fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS

show you what devotion is - ( @thvhoe ) boxer!jk, ballerina!reader, fluff, angst. you´re like his safe place, it´s giving exes to wannabe lovers, they deff like each other and jk wants to eat her uP but he´s wants it to be romantic and stuff, idk idk I liked itttt

you surprise him for his birthday - ( @nochukoo97 ) he´s so boyfriendddddd, this is so wholesome and cute

he can´t sleep bc he loves you so much - ( @onlyswan ) now THIS makes me want to drink bleach and die bc of how cute it is, THEY ARE SO IN LOVEEEE, there´s a lot of giggling, a lot of praising, a lot of disgustingly sweet loving talk after sex :´)))))) its such a good read i promise

fighting heart - ( @kooktrash ) boxer!jk, fluff, angst, he´s so stressed sldfkj, reader gets in a small accident and jk went crazy when a nurse answered your phone

make a wish - ( @euaphoric ) fluff, little smut, best friends to lovers, reader is so sweet, birthday surprise, jk shoots his shot, he only wants to spend his birthday with you

daft pretty boy - ( @jeonqkooks ) basketball cap!jk, classmates to lovers ig, see he´s smart but when he´s with you he gets nervous and forgets how to exist, he lowkey confesses and he´s sraightforward with itt, he´s got a hUGE crush on you lmao

ride - ( @ohjeon ) strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, jk is a fucc boy on campus, reader has tattoos and rides the coolest bike, jk has an instant crush, love at firts sight i would say, got him blushing and sweating lmao, this is an on going series but I KNOW it´ll be gREAT, I love it already

in your arms - ( @kookslastbutton ) e.r, fluff, smut, morning secs, waking up by his side for the first time after moving in

encore - ( @jjungxkook ) game designer!jk, he is cool af, has a fat crush on reader, this is just the teaser of the fic but I really like it

crave you - ( @7deadlysinsfics ) idol!jk, crack, smut, fluff, hispanic choreographer reader, texting, taejikook, jk is HORNY but he´s a softie too, he´s got a big big fat crush, strenght kink bc we all know he can throw her around like a ragdoll

pretty girl - ( @bts-trash-blog ) smut, tattoo artist!jk, chubby reader, THIS IS ITTTTT, he´s tall, dark and handsome, flirty af too, "pretty girl" stFUUUU, they both want to fuck so he shoots his shot at the tattoo appointment

easy - ( @itsamejin ) angsty, fuckboy jk, bet!trope, jk plays you so he can get his rent paid, i read this one a lawwngg time ago and decided i was an angst loving hoe

Inevitable - ( @ahundredtimesover ) angst, fluff, smut, lovers to exes to lovers, baseball player!jk, dad!jk, parents au, you break up with jk years ago after you got pregnant bc you wanted him to follow his dreams and now he´s back home just to find out there´s a boy who looks just like him.. this is a masterpiece, honestly one of THEE best jk series out there, it has it all fr, the angst is angsty and the fluff is FLUFFY, i love it sm i´ve read it 3 times and never get tired of it

finish line - ( @bonny-kookoo ) fluff, nerdy!jk, racer!jki loooooveee itttttt, so cute, so fluffy, this blurb uGHHHHH, just read the whole thing pls

ungodly hour - ( @explicit-tae ) crack, smut, fluff, college au, broke college student!reader, lowkey slutty!reader, jk is thirsstttyyyyy, simping atp, "who´s dick do i have to suck for a hulu account?" this series is honestly so funny ksjakskjs

disney + and bust - ( @1kook ) angst, fluff, smut. yall already know i love to see man crying and begging for forgiveness :p, so kook is ur succesfull "app developer" bf and he says some very hurtfull things to you out of anger

rattled - ( @gukslut ) complete series, single dad au, angst, smut. honestly? one of the best fics out there. I read this a long time ago and i´m still in awe. The way this is written makes you feel every word. also, the plot is so so unique. i love it.

ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au

Over The Odds | The Confession - ( @jungk0oksthighs ) ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series

wrong time - ( @spideyjimin ) smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life

don´t blame me - ( @ctrlsht ) sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc

failed quickie - ( @vminizzle ) cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!

someone older - ( @bonny-kookoo ) smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again

break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au

night after night - ( @brown-bi-beautiful ) smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it

seven plus one - ( @jvngkoos ) smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it

pwp / fwb

you good?? - ( @mono-moonchilds ) drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak

afterglow - ( @elitekook ) smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone

come sit on my lap - ( @euphoricfilter ) pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEE :´)

he has a lot of cum - ( @euphoricfilter ) boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man

riding jungkook´s nose - ( @euphoricfilter ) we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease

fucking in the gym - ( @euphoricfilter ) this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors

wicked - ( @noteguk ) smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading

[holybibly]

𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.

𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.

𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.

You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary,"  before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed. 

Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives.   The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner. 

"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.

You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted. 

It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair. 

"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once. 

The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.

There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.

The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.

One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.

As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.

"Hello, my dear."

You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."

"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.

Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.

"Something like that."

"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.

"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.

Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.

"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?

"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.

"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.

Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?

"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.

"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.

Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.

"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"

"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."

There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.

His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?

"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."

"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.

"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."

A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.

"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."

"F-Father…"

"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "

You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"

"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.

Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.

"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."

He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.

"Shall I show you?"

"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.

"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"

You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.

He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.

"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?

He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.

"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.

The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.

"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.

He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.

"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.

"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."

"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.

"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.

You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.

You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.

"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."

You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.

As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.

Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.

"You have to undress completely, darling."

You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.

"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.

You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.

"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.

"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."

The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.

"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.

"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.

"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.

"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."

You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."

It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.

"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth. 

Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.

"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.

Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.

He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.

"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.

"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"

You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."

You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.

"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.

"Look at me, my darling."

Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.

Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.

"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.

"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.

"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.

God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.

From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.

He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.

He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.

"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."

You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.

He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.

His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.

"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."

He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.

"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.

"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.

All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".

"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."

Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.

You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.

"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.

You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.

Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.

"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."

You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.

"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."

"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.

"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.

"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.

"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.

"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.

You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.

The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.

He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.

"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.

With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.

"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."

He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.

Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.

And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.

"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."

From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.

"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.

"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"

You lowered your eyes in shame.

He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."

"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."

"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."

Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.

It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.

"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.

"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.

He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.

"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.

"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.

Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.

"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"

"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.

"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.

Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind.    "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Star 1117

human!wooyoung x alienoid!reader

space apocalypse au

genres and warnings: fluff, angst, slow burn, bittersweet i hope, bits of hurt/comfort, alien yeosang and human jongho scs, coachella yun cameos, violence warnings

wc: 26k

synopsis: on your mission to save your home star 1116, and to find the last planet in the temporal nexus galaxy called star 1117, you arrest the human from earth- jung wooyoung. you find that he's been receiving cryptic messages from your galaxy, ones that make you question your purpose. together, you uncover secrets and take big risks to find the truth about the galaxy and star 1117's existence while wooyoung teaches you the true meaning of 'home'.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell ("or just die bro" "yeah it's not that hard" - famous last words from loren and yumi) (disclaimer: ^said in the context of the fic)

Home is not where the heart is.

You’ve always thought that it was a very human thing to think of the ‘heart’ as anything but the organ that it was. The heart’s only function was supposed to be to pump blood into your body and keep you running. But often, it was romanticised as a repository that stored human emotions in all their hideous glory. That was human nature in its nutshell which eventually doomed your forefathers, resulting in a bitterness that etched itself on the strands of their genes of which you carried generations worth of despite your half-human nature. 

The bitterness was justifiable. Your great-grandfather did not know that when he left his home, the planet Earth, he would get lost in the endless expanse of space and never find his way back. You often wondered if the humans ever even looked for him but you wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t. Somehow, he ended up receiving help from the Nexi and ended up on a planet just like his homeland and died trying to find his way back.

It was him who introduced that saying- home is where the heart is. You often read his journals and found it strange how he described everything that was close to his heart- the family he had left behind, a ‘cat’ which was supposed to be some strange, harmless feline creature that often dwelled in the homes with humans, and a lot of other things that made little to no sense but often sparked curiosity in you. He had left his heart back on the planet Earth and he died trying to find his way back. Perhaps, his home was where his heart was. But to you…

Home was Star 1116, the land where your parents gave birth to you and the land where they were never accepted. The planet that resembled the Earth that had been their home had their forefathers never left in search of finding something similar. Home was the land that had raised you with its magnificent, tall, iridescent mountains and deep, dark valleys that glowed from within when it met the golden gleaming soil that lit up your planet. Home was a location- the place where you took your first steps and found out what it meant to be half human- dangerous yet protected. Home was the place they told you to leave because they were scared of what you could do, even though you looked just like them. You had a human heart, which was an insult, not a compliment, even though your father insisted that it was the latter.

Your heart was inside your body. Your home was tem-nex units away, so far that you could not even see it anymore. Your home was not where your heart was.

“Any more reminiscing and you will find that you can blast lasers through your eyes too.”

“Yeah. I’m getting tired of her sighing. It sounds awful,” Yeosang said but you ignored him, shooting a glare at Jongho who shielded himself as if you really were going to blast lasers from your eyes.

“You’ll be the first to know if I do,” you told him, tossing your grandfather’s drawing of his cat on the desk where it landed between a pile of journals. “Any update on our target’s location?”

“Just a few tem-nex units away now,” Jongho said, adjusting his vision glasses. “Wanna place bets? I have a feeling it’s one of our old human friends in a dusty old spaceship running away from the Nexi.”

“I have a feeling that it’s just a poor rock and our systems need a big software update,” Yeosang sounded tired even though all he had done recently was lay limp on his couch. 

“I’m with Yeosang on this one,” you went towards him and he raised his hand to share a fistbump but you just pulled him up, earning a startled yelp from him. “Go check the exhaust outlets and our guns. If it’s a rock we need ammo to blast it. And I’m tired of hearing your tired voice when all you’ve done is rot the last few days.”

“Nothing’s fun anymore,” Yeosang pouted, collecting himself. “Our exhaust outlets are fine, our ammo is all loaded. We still have no clue about Star 1117’s location or purpose. I’m just making the same old mandatory assessments and I’ll come back right here and lie down just like before-”

Your pupils must have contracted in warning because he raised his hands in surrender before scurrying off. Jongho’s low giggles echoed in the control room and you took your seat back, sharing a grin with the human. It was always fun to bully the oldest in the room, especially to Jongho who was the youngest and the only human aboard.

You were both in the middle of checking if all the buttons on the panel of your rather old spaceship were working, with you making a few quick repairs, when Yeosang’s hasty footsteps caught your attention. He took a few deep breaths before he knocked on the metal wall to get Jongho’s attention.

“Is our radar not working?”

“It is,” Jongho confirmed, “What’s wrong?”

“I can spot a spaceship not far from our current location- unidentified,” Yeosang said and Jongho frowned, checking the radar. He looked at you and you touched the panel, allowing the silver, branch-like neurons to extend from your fingertips and read the device, trying to assess any damage but detecting none. 

“Radar’s fine. Are you telling us that it might be an unregistered spaceship?” You asked. 

All the spaceships in your galaxy, the Temporal Nexus, were supposed to bear a location tracking device and if in the rare instance that a spaceship did not have one, it was never a good sign.

“Come, check it out,” Yeosang urged and the two of you uncertainly got up, following him towards the back of your ship to the window. Indeed, you could spot the outline of a rusty old spaceship in the distance and Jongho lent you his glasses so you could zoom in and take a closer look.

It was definitely not a Nexi spaceship, yet it was in Nexi territory, far from where humans had ever dared to roam. The only time humans had attempted to cross over was how your great grandfather made it to Star 1116, which led to a lot of complications with the planet Earth and its humans and eventually, the Temporal Nexus Accords were penned. The crux of it was that both Nexi and humans would follow these rules and regulations for harmony in space- harmony was a funny way to put it when the humans knew that they could easily be outmatched. 

“It can’t be a human, right?” Yeosang asked, his glinting silver eyes indicating that he felt threatened. “It must be someone fooling around. Should we take a look or let it go?”

“It’s still an unidentified spaceship,” you reminded him. “We’re literally space patrol, Yeosang. We can’t let it go.”

“You know it was just an excuse to kick us out of Star 1116 because we were snooping around,” Jongho scoffed and you rolled your eyes- somehow, you were still more butthurt about it than the human himself. “But yes, we should take a look.”

“Alright, steer closer. Yeosang- you and me, dome, now. Get the guns.”

While Yeosang went to the storage, you hurried behind Jongho back towards the control room and pressed the button at the far end to get access to the ladder that led you to the observation dome. You made room for Yeosang and Jongho passed you binoculars. Crouching on all fours, you narrowed your eyes in focus as you peeked through the lens, muttering curses when you found how tinted the viewscreen was. There were human alphabets inscribed on the spaceship which confirmed your suspicions.

“Anything ring a bell?” Yeosang asked as he crouched down next to you, taking the binoculars from you. Yeosang was referring to the ships on the watchlist that you had been monitoring for a while now. 

“Nothing. You?”

“I don’t see anyone inside. What are the chances that it’s abandoned?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smirked and Yeosang shook his head. 

As Jongho decreased the speed when your spaceships got closer, you noticed something odd- almost like a few lights flickering inside the spaceship from what you could grasp, considering the heavily tinted viewscreen. You wondered what that was for. Yeosang warned Jongho to take care of the oxygen levels as he pressed the button on the glass dome, opening it and activating the manual shield just in time-

You got your answer in the form of a rocket colliding with your spaceship which rattled you despite the shield. You gripped at the shaft tightly, allowing yourself just a moment before joining Yeosang outside and asking him to lift the shield so you could prepare for the offensive. Yeosang passed you the revolver and you wrapped your hand around the hilt, a grim smile starting to spread on your lips as you allowed the neuron extensions from the tip of your nails to grow and slide inside the gun to wrap themselves around the bullets. 

While Yeosang provided cover, shooting any rocket that came in your range, you fired and shut your eyes, waiting for the bullet to hit the exterior. As soon as you felt the collision inside you thanks to the neurons, you let the bullets sink into the spaceship so you could read it.

There was a single human on the spaceship, as young as you. Strangely, the fear factor the human was displaying was less than the aliens you had caught on patrol, which was commendable. Perhaps, the human was a fool and had no idea what he had gotten himself into- you may be half-human but that did not mean you were going to pity the intruder. 

“He’s going to run out of ammo soon,” you opened your eyes, switching your weapon and helping Yeosang, shooting bullet after bullet that disintegrated the man-made ammunition in a mere blink. “I wonder how much he brought to have lasted this long- he’s so far from planet Earth.”

“I guess you’ll ask him soon,” Yeosang fired at the last rocket and snickered. You started making your way towards the ladder, preparing to gain access to the human’s spaceship and making sure to keep your revolver with you. Perhaps, the human would like seeing that in your hand.

When Jongho stopped the ship, you opened the hatch on your spaceship to access the ladder so the two of you could walk across to the other. You started knocking on the entry hatch once you reached the human’s spaceship but you didn’t get a response. You placed your hand on the surface and spoke, making sure your voice would be heard inside the vehicle.

“You can either open and welcome us, or we will welcome you. You won’t like that.”

A few moments later, the hatch opened with a loud shudder, allowing you both inside. You waited until it shut before walking forward, observing your surroundings which weren’t much, just equipment, until you heard a shuffle. 

And then came in front of you a man, a human man who felt as familiar as Jongho whom you had spent all your life with, yet so different. Even though he looked at you with a sort of surprised glare, dark tendrils of his hair covering his furrowed brows, his presence had a warm quality about it and you wondered if it was a human thing- you had definitely felt it with the humans around you. Some of them.

He stood his ground, defenceless and squaring his shoulders with every passing second. “Welcome to my humble abode. I’m Jung Wooyoung, at your service.”

Yeosang raised a brow and looked at you- you were far too busy identifying the possible layers within that delicate voice. Your lips parted as if to say something but you couldn’t produce a single sound at the moment so Yeosang decided to take over.

“What in the stars is a human doing here alone?” His voice boomed in the room as he asked. “You’ve violated just about a handful of the Temporal Nexus Accords. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“Well,” he shrugged. “It’s not like I can go back. I’m wanted on Earth too.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to roam around? You’re almost out of food and you just ran out of ammunition-”

“But it looks like I haven’t run out of luck,” he breathed, collecting himself with a wink in your direction which threw you off. “What do you usually do with people like me?”

“Escort them to the station for judgement.”

“Yikes,” he said. “I have so many questions but I’ll hold back.”

You spotted the nervous shift from one leg to another as he put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He was obviously considering all his options which frankly were quite limited. He had just about two choices- get escorted to the station or face execution right here.

“How did you make it so far?” You asked, frowning deeply. “Even the Nexi find it hard to avoid the patrol when they try to reach human territory.”

“Let’s say I possess a special set of skills,” he grinned wickedly. “Stealth, for starters.”

“I don’t quite believe that,” Yeosang commented.

“Well, your ship did not catch mine on radar, did it?” Wooyoung asked and Yeosang confirmed that it hadn’t. “Also, when you’re running from two groups of species, you find that there is no better fuel to reach the victory line than desperation.”

“Why are the humans after you-”

“What do you mean by victory line?” Yeosang asked at the same time and you both exchanged glances- this sure was an odd individual. You urged Yeosang to continue. 

“How far did you want to travel with such limited supplies?”

“Not that limited,” Wooyoung began to argue but you raised a hand in the air, making him raise both his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m doomed anyway. Go ahead. Finish your job.”

“Why are you here, and why are the humans after you?” You asked, stepping towards him. “Answer properly this time.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“In space?” You looked at Yeosang, knowing that the human wasn’t telling the whole truth. “And so far away from your home?”

“Yes, and I’m not sure if that someone is still… well, alive, in one form or another. But I needed to check a few things for myself,” he said in all seriousness. 

“You’re looking for a human? Did your human get lost in space?” Yeosang asked.

“Not my human,” Wooyoung let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s complicated, but I’m not sure if it’s a human or an alien I’m looking for. Could definitely be one of the humans from the group  that got lost around here a few decades ago- a descendant of them. I don’t think they got ‘lost’, by the way, but maybe that’s just me.”

You licked your lips in thought, trying not to look at the very bewildered Yeosang but you both knew that the humans he was talking about must be your ancestors and the group of them. “What’s it to you, then? Who are you to try to find them?”

“Again, I’m not trying to find them, they must be dead by now, but I’m curious to investigate. I was obviously a fool for taking matters into my own hands, but they didn’t take me seriously, the people back on Earth,” he admitted. “And when I started looking into the matter, they tried to get rid of me. Subtly. But I’ve always been known to possess maniacal qualities, and here we are.”

You grimaced at that, “So you’re an idiot. Yeosang, take him.”

“Wait,” Wooyoung snatched his hand away before Yeosang could grab him. “Let me grab my things.”

“You won’t need them,” you told him. “You should have stayed back on Earth. You might have lived longer.” 

With that, Yeosang strapped the vitals regulator watch on Wooyoung and you started to leave the ship, wanting to go back to the comfort of your own ship as soon as possible.

“You’re a human, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asked and you stopped in your tracks, turning back to meet his eyes as a deadly silence overtook. “He’s an alien, this one, even though he looks human, but you… You must be human.”

“I’m an alien,” you glared at him, the neurons from your fingertips branching like claws to prove your point. “And it would do you good to shut your mouth.”

However, you weren’t sure if your words triggered him or if he just had a mouth on him- was it a human thing? Jongho was talkative but a different type- cracking random jokes.

But this man?

He was getting on your nerves. You had to admit that his lung capacity was admirable considering the long string of sentences he sprouted as soon as he entered your spaceship. You caught a few words- something about a ‘cool’ spaceship, some technical stuff that to your horror, Yeosang was happy to provide his input for, and then something about his own rusty old spaceships and how ‘humans could never’.

“Oh, now that’s a human if I’ve ever seen one,” Wooyoung clapped his hands as soon as he saw Jongho. 

“How can you tell?” Yeosang asked. “I thought I looked like a human too.”

“Nah, you’re too pretty,” Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal and you blinked. “It’s the sheer… presence of him. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Jongho started chuckling after he recovered from the initial surprise of seeing a human on board- a human that was not a resident of one of the 1117 planets in this galaxy. 

“I don’t know what you both mean,” Yeosang almost pouted.

“Come closer,” Wooyoung called and you watched in horror as Yeosang obeyed, the three of them huddling close to each other. “This human- the warmth, the smell-”

“You’re telling me you could tell I’m human because I stink like one?”

While your crew burst into giggles, afraid to laugh properly in fear you would react aggressively- which you seldom did but you made sure the fear factor was a constant- Wooyoung started profusely explaining that he didn’t mean it like that but there was something about humans that smelt and felt like home to him. He did not comment on how you had admitted that you were human too. 

“Oh, you humans and your associations with the word home,” you spat, getting morbid flashbacks of the time your father tried to explain how association worked and failed. “Lock him in the cell- he’s too talkative.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung yelled at you but Yeosang reluctantly patted his back, telling him the cell wasn’t that bad, just a room where he could take his final rest before being presented in the station for his execution, which did nothing to help the human. Meanwhile, Jongho started going through Wooyoung’s things and you joined him, finding a few strange food wrappers and pens, a compass that made you smile in awe because it looked very much like the one you possessed, a bundle of notes and folders, an odd device that you set aside for the time being, and then his own journal.

You held the journal in your hands and allowed yourself to look at his memories associated with it, shutting your eyes and watching the images that flashed in your mind-

Grass. More vibrant than the grass on Star 1116, decorated by little colourful flowers that you had always heard of but never seen. The laughter of a woman and the laughter of kids, spreading warmth through your chest. Large bodies of water, as blue as the sky, welcoming you in its cool embrace. 

And then… anger and confusion. Screaming and shouting- your face suddenly felt wet. Were those tears? You hear incoherent yelling and loud thumps of things as they smashed against each other. You felt terror consume every fibre of your being and you felt out of breath- you were running. Soon after followed a sense of dread before guilt consumed you-

“Captain- hey, y/n,” Jongho cautiously shook your arm, bringing you back to reality. “You good?”

You retracted the neurons and set the journal aside, realising your face was wet. “He knows about Star 1116.”

Jongho pursed his lips in thought. “Is that really something we should worry about?”

“He knows our ancestors made it to Star 1116,” you added for clarification. “He mentioned that he didn’t think they got lost in space like everyone claimed they did.”

“Ah… that complicates things, doesn’t it?” 

“Are we sure the station wouldn’t have caught his spaceship on their system?” You asked, moving towards the control panel which was displaying normal readings. 

“What are you thinking?” Yeosang’s voice interjected as he entered the room. 

“I need to have a talk with Wooyoung,” you said, looking at your partners. “He intended to find Star 1116 and the humans living there and collect some evidence regarding them.”

“Well… he’s found them,” Jongho raised his hand. “I think his mission was successful in that case.”

“Half successful, and he might not know that Star 1116 is a habitable planet for humans. He might be thinking you’re from Earth.”

“One way to find out,” you stifled a devilish grin.

“Don’t go all kitty claws on him,” Yeosang warned with a chuckle and you hissed at him- he always used that phrase, having heard your father call you that when you were younger and more reckless with the alien traits that you inherited from your mother. 

You told him that you would not need to do that. He was here on a mission and this was the perfect opportunity to use that to gain a possible ally. You took a closer look at his navigation equipment before going to your room to rest, taking the strange device that looked like a radio with you- you didn’t want the boys seeing you get emotional again-

And talking about emotions- why did the human’s overwhelming feelings cause your heart to clench in pain? Why did it bring tears to your eyes? You didn’t despise human emotions- you thought they were beautiful in their own strange way but never did you think you would be able to relate to them on an intrinsic level. Perhaps, it was the human in you. No matter how much you tried to repress it, it would always remind you that it was a part of you, integrating with your Nexi gene as one.

But you soon found out that there were other forms of emotions that involved tears, and not just the embarrassing ‘crying’ you had almost done earlier.

There were tears rolling down the cheeks of both the human and the alien in your crew as they laughed their lungs out. You had heard a bunch of inhumane noises in your sleep which prompted you to wake up and take a look, but the last thing you expected was-

“Are you having a fucking party here?” You grimaced at the sight of the three boys in a circle with half eaten food in between, noticing a bunch of new dishes that you hadn’t seen in a while, the fragrant scent of it filling your nose and almost calming you. Wooyoung looked at your disgusted expression and only laughed harder.

“This one was supposed to be in the cell,” you pointed at Wooyoung as you looked at Yeosang and Jongho in question. “What is going on?”

“He was complaining about being hungry and when he offered to make us food, we decided to check how good a cook he was,” Jongho answered. “Surprisingly good, turns out. You should have seen him in the kitchen, y/n.”

“Since the station hasn’t sent a message yet, that means they haven’t figured out that we have a human aboard. We could use him as our servant,” Yeosang’s eyes gleamed with mischievous hope.

“That’s what you think of me?” Wooyoung smacked his biceps, looking hurt. “I thought we were friends!”

“No one is becoming friends with anyone here,” you clapped, prompting the boys to start cleaning up. “Don’t make me call the station myself, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Aren’t you a boomer,” he clicked his tongue.

“A boomer?” You asked, wondering what that meant. 

“A true boomer,” Wooyoung grinned, passing you a tray of food he had kept for you. “Basically means you don’t know how to have fun.”

“I’m not here to have fun,” you grimaced at the word and he pressed the tray into your hands before resuming tidying the floor, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle. Yeosang caught your eye and urged you to sit and try the food and you reluctantly obeyed-

And immediately thought of home.

Home, when your grandfather and grandmother were alive and cooked the human dishes for you- the dishes that they had learned from their parents. You could taste the familiar spices that your grandmother loved in the broth Wooyoung made, the scent immediately transporting you to one of your happier memories when you didn’t have to worry about being an anomaly and could enjoy simple moments with your family. You looked at Jongho who was smiling knowingly- he could definitely understand what you were feeling right now.

“I can’t eat this,” you looked at Jongho.

“It’s okay, Captain,” he chuckled. “It’s just like our grandparents made for us, yeah? Go on, have a taste of the vegetables too.”

You hesitated but reluctantly took a spoonful of the vegetables with rice, a sense of dread washing over you but Yeosang’s hand on your back calmed you and you realised that maybe, the feelings of dread were present because you were scared to accept that there was a human on board who was making you acknowledge the human parts in you through food, of all things. 

That’s what you disliked about being human- that you were so easily swayed.

Wooyoung watched you cautiously from a corner while he absently sweeped the floor with a broom- he hadn’t expected you to react that way and it was surprising to see the group of you interact. If you weren’t fully human, he wondered why you weren’t as hostile towards Jongho as you were to him.

You finished your food before you knew it, and though it annoyed you that Wooyoung was proudly grinning, you decided to give it a rest for now and focus on the more important matters. 

“What is this device?” You placed the black rectangular, almost hollow box on the table and Wooyoung pursed his lips, tossing the broom in the corner and joining your crew on the table. 

“What do you think it is?”

“A broken radio?” You asked, opening its back to show how it had no batteries. “I can’t read it.”

“And what would you mean by that, sweetheart?” Wooyoung asked and once again, you had to repress the anger bubbling in your throat at the term while Jongho and Yeosang shifted uncomfortably in their positions.

“I can read memories and emotions or feelings associated with objects, and I can’t read this,” you clarified for him. “And I want you to tell me why unless you want me to read you.”

“That’s… strange, actually,” Yeosang cocked his head, taking the device from you. “Are you sure you can’t read it?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, looking at Wooyoung. “So?”

Wooyoung’s hesitation was palpable. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Don’t even think about lying,” you told him, the neurons protracting from your fingernails making him jump a little.

“Whoa, put your murder mittens away,” Wooyoung shielded himself with his hands raised between you. “You probably can’t read because it’s what it looks like- a broken radio. It has no deeper meaning-”

“Everything has a deeper meaning,” you glared at him. “You wouldn’t bring a broken radio to space, for starters. Have you been getting some sort of a signal?”

When he didn’t answer, you knew what you had to do. You looked at Yeosang who nodded and came in front of Wooyoung. “If you really want to get somewhere with her, you better cooperate.”

“I would, but I don’t know if I can trust her- you guys with the information I have,” he admitted, sounding serious. “I do receive signals sometimes, but they don’t really make sense. I’ve been able to trace them, though, and it looks like they come from around here.”

“An alien sending signals to a human on earth?” Jongho looked at Yeosang. “Doesn’t sound implausible. What for, though?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s mostly gibberish- I can’t make sense of it.”

“Did you at least note them down?” Jongho asked.

“Yeah, in a notepad- it should be in my bag,” Wooyoung said, getting up and grabbing his bag from the couch, shuffling through it while you made eye contact with your crew, all three of you as sceptical as the other.

“It’s not here?” Wooyoung looked at you. 

“Everything that belongs to you is in that bag,” you said. 

“We didn’t touch it,” Yeosang said, and the boys raised their hands in surrender.

“Did you drop it?” Wooyoung looked incredulous.

“I’m not that clumsy,” you got up, snatching his bag and looking through it yourself but finding no signs of a notepad. You shot him a dirty look. “You left it behind on purpose, didn’t you?”

“That thing?” Wooyoung pointed his finger outside, the veins on his neck and arms popping out in anger. “It contains everything I worked for. It’s the reason why I risked my life to come here, and you’re telling me that we left it behind because you were in a rush?”

“So it’s my fault now?” You scoffed in disbelief. “You could have mentioned you needed to get your little notepad when we were transporting you!”

“Well, I obviously did not want someone to see the contents of it!” 

“Guys!” Jongho butted between you two, making you both sit down on the couch. “It’s okay. Wooyoung, just allow y/n to look into your head so she can copy everything that was on the notepad here for you. Simple! No biggie!”

“I won’t let her do that,” Wooyoung folded his arms. “That’s invading my privacy.”

“You’re invading our privacy by being here too,” you commented. 

“Then throw me outside,” he simply said and you groaned loudly. Yeosang stifled a smile- he had never seen you so riled up and he made a mental note to thank the human later.

“Please, cooperate,” Yeosang requested gently. “She knows the importance of privacy and will do her best to not snoop around in your mind and only look through the contents of the notes. Right, Captain?”

You nodded. You opened your mouth to add that you couldn’t help it if the person you were reading unintentionally pushed a memory your way but Yeosang knowingly ignored you and continued. “Wooyoung, if we think the message you’ve been receiving is important, we might not deliver you to the station at all. You sound like an excellent navigator and… we kind of need that.”

“We don’t need that-”

“Oh, shut up,” Yeosang waved a hand and you pouted. “You can take your time thinking about it- we don’t have to do that now. But we will have no choice but to report you to the station if we can’t find some common ground.”

“Between death and joining you, there’s not much of a choice here, is there?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you almost felt sorry for the human. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll write what I remember from the notes, but you can help me fill the gaps.”

“Wonderful,” Yeosang clapped. “Let’s scatter now.”

—--------------------------

You had to admit, you felt a little sorry for reacting that way towards the human who, like he had said, really had no choice but to cooperate or face death.

Or perhaps, it was the Wooyoung being human and sneaky and making you feel guilty on purpose. You wouldn’t put past humans to do that- sure, you were the daughter of one and a friend of another, but you had seen your fair share of humans hiding behind the excuse of their ugly nature.

However, your guilt solidified when you found the man diligently scribbling in a new notebook with a jug of coffee by his side. You shook your head at the sight- what was with humans and their addiction to caffeine? But you supposed you couldn’t complain- whatever kept the human running and made your job easier. 

You sensed Wooyoung’s body getting tense when he sensed your presence and you knocked on the door right at that time, pretending you hadn’t been standing there for a solid few minutes. He nodded and you entered, sitting down next to him.

“What are you writing?”

“Anything about navigation that I can recall from the top of my head,” he showed you the notes and you made an impressed face. 

“Are humans on Earth that advanced in space navigation already?”

“As of recently, yes, but not many, and they usually keep it to themselves,” Wooyoung told you. “They’re afraid the government and the space councils will exploit their services.”

“Sounds like our government,” you scoffed.

“I guess we do have something in common then,” he grinned. “I was one of the few who kept my research to myself, but I also made the mistake of snooping around and finding things I shouldn’t have learned.”

“You said something about the group of humans who got lost in space,” you asked, shifting on the couch so you were facing him. “Do you remember their names?”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes slightly. “Those humans settled on Star 1116. Jongho’s one of them, right? A descendant of them?”

You nodded and he wowed at that, taking a few moments to let that information sink in. “And what about you?”

“I’m one of them too,” you admitted. No harm in him knowing. “My mother is a Nexi, though. My father was the grandson of one of the humans who got lost- but why do you believe they didn’t get lost?”

“I heard the superiors talking about how their spy network failed to achieve results,” he sighed and you felt your heart sink. “The plan was  to pretend to get lost and settle on one of the planets in the Temporal Nexus so they would keep reporting back to Earth with their findings.”

“Did they?” You asked, unconsciously holding your breath.

“I guess they felt welcomed enough that they stopped very soon, and my people never looked for them in fear that their secrets had been exposed. The Temporal Nexus Accords happened right after so the humans on Earth had to pretend they had no knowledge of those humans in space and thought they died.”

You fell silent, staring at the rings on Wooyoung’s fingers while you processed that.

Your great grandfather and great grandmother were spies. If anyone were to find that out now… 

“They must have lived well,” Wooyoung said gently with a smile. “I won’t tell anyone, if you’re worried about that. I’d say Jongho, at least, deserves to know the truth though.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll tell Jongho soon. They lived well, but after they had kids and our grandparents were old enough to have their own, the Nexi started discriminating. It got a little messier afterwards, but we’re still here. Just… kind of outcasted.”

“The Nexi are just like humans then. It’s such a human thing to discriminate among races, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame them,” you scoffed. “They will have a field day if they learn that they were right about humans all along.”

“But who’s gonna tell them?” Wooyoung pretended to zip his mouth. You smiled at that and he smiled back. “Did you come to read… me?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you said and he resigned into the couch. “It won’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m worrying about, but okay,” he urged you to start and you raised your palms in the air, letting the neuron extensions protrude from your fingernails. Wooyoung watched in awe as the silver steel-like branches curled around each other in an intricate pattern. 

“I’ll touch your forehead and close my eyes when I read,” you felt the need to tell him. “I will try not to look into your private memories but I can’t control what you send me, and unless you have a good mental fortitude I will only see what you show me.”

“Interesting,” he said, gulping when you scooted forward. You locked eyes with him, finding it almost endearing how his mismatched yet beautiful eyes widened when you gently placed your palms on his temples, letting the neurons extend and entangle with his hair to stick on his scalp.

“Ah… that tickles a bit,” Wooyoung muttered and you stifled a smile. “Do I close my eyes too?”

“You don’t have to,” you answered and shut yours. “Think of your notepad, now. I’ll have a general look before I start noting down.”

“Got it,” he said, shutting his eyes to focus.

You saw the notepad, as clear as day, and the last place he recalled using it was the control room in his spaceship. You relaxed when you realised he had indeed been telling the truth. You then saw the navigational reading and glimpses of incomprehensible messages- incomprehensible to him. 

You were about to draw back but you saw a montage of his memories in the spaceship- you felt the loneliness that he had felt being alone in space for so long- a few months and no human or alien contact. You felt a bit of dread as he wondered if he made a wrong decision leaving the Earth in the manner that he did- stealing information and sneaking past them. You felt his will to live fluctuate when it started to feel like he was on a wild goose chase. 

And then you felt just the briefest moment of acceptance when he noted down how long he had to live with the amount of food he had left on the spaceship. He was mostly relying on supplements but he wasn’t sure how long that would keep him healthy.

Before you could draw back, he pushed one memory in focus- the reason he cooked for all of you tonight. He was grateful to be alive and he needed the food more than you- more for the joy of cooking for himself and for others, for the act of simply eating with company, no matter who it was.

When you opened your eyes, you found that you were just as breathless as him. You didn’t know if he had intentionally pushed that memory into focus but it was enough. 

“Well,” you retracted one hand away, keeping the other at its original position. “Might be a little uncomfortable but we should start writing now. You can help me fill in what I don’t understand, is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he adjusted himself so the notebook was between you two on the couch now. You rested your elbow against the cushion so it wouldn’t hurt. “Shall we begin?”

It took you about an hour of filling in the gaps but thankfully, Wooyoung had done most of the work. The navigation section was finished soon and then you moved to the messages he received from the radio which you realised were in one of the Nexi codes. It required a series of messages to be arranged in a specific numerical pattern to decode it. Thankfully, Jongho had the right device for it so you intended to let him handle that department.

While writing the notes, you learned about his time at the space centre on Earth. Wooyoung seemed to be a talkative person and you listened to his story about how he and a few other astronauts and space scientists always disagreed with the government which ultimately controlled their operations. Apparently, the humans were always on the lookout for a number of things- a planet like Earth, for starters. The secret to stop ageing or extend the age cycle.

“Why would they want to extend their miserable lives?” You grimaced when you heard that. 

“Sometimes, the little things are enough to want to live a little longer, I suppose,” Wooyoung mused, taking the pen from you and finishing a string of messages for you before handing it back. “There’s a race of you that has an unusual cycle, isn’t that so?”

“The Original Nexi,” you told him. “A few descendants of them still live though they are scattered and stay low. They don’t age like we do- after a certain age, I suppose around sixty, they start ageing backwards. They get to be young again but the fun ends there. They’re back to being babies and then one day, they turn into stardust and scatter in the atmosphere.”

“How poetic,” Wooyoung scratched his chin. “I suppose it has its pros and cons.”

“More cons,” you commented. “No one wants to take care of you by the time you become a baby for the second time.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s a sight,” he snickered, asking you to skip an irrelevant section and you started on the last page. “Look at that. We’re almost done.”

“Thank you for cooperating,” you meant it. “Your navigational skills… they’re quite impressive. I might just have a place for you on this ship. Depends on your behaviour though.”

“You are on your worst behaviour, I want it just like that~” Wooyoung started singing and you smiled- his voice really was pretty. 

“You seem to like that song.”

Silence filled the room and you finished writing the last sentence, shutting the notebook and turning to him, finding him surprised.

“How did you know?”

Oh. You had made a mistake.

“What did you see?” Wooyoung asked again, and this time, involuntarily you saw more memories and you shut your eyes because of the intensity of those memories-

Wooyoung’s voice. He was singing the song in a small room with the lyrics on the screen, loud background music blasting in that space along with the sound of uproarious laughter, the bass of the music in synchronisation with his heartbeat. Bright, colourful kaleidoscopes of lights danced with their bodies, swaying around one another. You felt joy, in its pure and raw form, and then-

You were transported to another memory associated with that song- back in the spaceship as he sang it alone, his voice the only thing echoing off the walls with only the dim white light to accompany him. There was no joy anymore- just yearning for something that was not and might never be.

“Get out of my head, y/n,” Wooyoung gently wrapped his hand around your hand that was still placed on his temple. You opened your eyes in surprise at the contact, blinking a few times to let your vision adjust. His words finally registered inside you and you looked into his eyes.

He wasn’t angry. He simply looked tired and perhaps, he knew exactly what memories you had seen. You retracted the neurons from his scalp and now that it was just your fingers tangled in his hair, you unconsciously caressed the soft strands. He moved your hand away softly, placing it in your lap and looking at the joined hands for just a moment before he pulled away.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” he nodded in understanding. “It’s okay.”

You nodded, realising you were still leaning into him. Taking a deep breath, you picked the notebook and got up.

“The notes will be with Jongho- he can decode the message,” you told him. “You can rest now.”

“Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung looked at you expectantly. You raised a brow and he took that as a sign to continue. “Do you only read the memories or are you able to feel the emotions or feelings associated with the memory too?”

Your silence was enough for him. He nodded in understanding, having gotten his answer.

As you made your way back to your room, you wished you could have told him that this was the first time you felt human emotions in such depth, in such an unfiltered and almost vulnerable way. Such innocent, humane feelings that almost made you forget that alien blood ran through your veins.

—---------------------------

While none of you had officially announced Wooyoung’s position as a navigator in the crew, he seemed to take on that role naturally. He made home in the control room with Jongho and they learned a lot from each other- Jongho about navigation and what it was like to be a human on Earth, and Wooyoung about the Temporal Nexus Galaxy and what it was like to be a human among the Nexi.

However, the more interesting part was how he managed to make Yeosang warm up to him. Yeosang wasn’t one to talk a lot and none of you in the crew were very physically affectionate, yet it seemed like Wooyoung had claimed the man as his target. He was always clinging to him- holding his hand, clutching his arms as he rubbed his cheek against him, casual pats and ruffling of hair (of which Jongho was also a target), hugs of all and every kind, and smooches. What was funnier was how Yeosang claimed to dislike all of that yet you would find him smiling to himself afterwards. 

Whatever it was, Wooyoung had a magnetic personality and everyone’s eyes followed him, as did yours. You were often in your designated corner with your journals and equipment, making calls to the station to send daily reports, sending messages to anyone who would want to hear your theory about Star 1117 and possibly help you in any way while not reporting you to the authorities. It was hard to be in the same room as Wooyoung and not look at him and lean towards him, you were finding. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t try to be as physically affectionate with you as the rest, or not include you in whatever stupid debate they decided to have for the sake of passing time- he was simply hesitant to touch you because he wasn’t sure if you could read him without your neuron extensions- or ‘murder mitten’, as he referred to them. Kitty claws was not the only term thrown around now.

Jongho’s device had successfully decoded the message but you were all waiting for the next signal as there were still missing parts. The radio was kept in the middle of the room so anyone could hear it if it woke up. Meanwhile, you shared your knowledge about Star 1117, the planet that could not be found. 

In the Temporal Nexus Galaxy, there were exactly 1117 stars or planets in the beginning, as marked by the Original Nexi, the first aliens born out of the celestial matter when the galaxy came into being. While the 1117th planet was never located, it was historically and scientifically accurate information that your galaxy had 1117 cycles. Each complete orbit of the planets around the core marked by the presence of a single sun- almost like the sun in the solar system- caused one planet to disintegrate into celestial matter. 

Wooyoung shared his knowledge of your galaxy and you found out that the humans were also aware that the only remaining planets in your galaxy were Star 1116, which was your home, and Star 1117. Star 1117 existed but it could not be located no matter how much the authorities and everyone else tried- there was too much clutter in the galaxy, they claimed. 

All the planets that finished their cycle disintegrated into rocks and stars. Some of the rocks the aliens made habitable when there weren’t enough planets to accommodate them, while some aliens resorted to pods and spaceships as their home. The further you went to explore in the Temporal Nexus, the harder it got to navigate and find your way back which was why a lot of the explorers who tried to locate Star 1117 or its byproduct (in case they were wrong about Star 1117 still being whole) never returned.

You were just discussing the myths surrounding the star while you ate lunch- Wooyoung was also the designated chef now, and you had to admit that part of the reason you were okay with his presence in the spaceship was because of the food he made for you all and not just because you had delayed your decision until you could properly decode the message. 

“I personally think Star 1117 was the first planet to die and our home is actually Star 1 instead of 1116 and they’re all wrong about the number of cycles that has passed. It’s a reverse order,” Yeosang said. “This, or there’s no Star 1117 in the first place.”

“Yeah, the Space Council could have easily modified the data,” Jongho nodded.

“But I read them,” you said, referring to the council members that you had secretly read. “They don’t think that’s true.”

“Maybe they’re made to think that that’s the truth,” Yeosang pointed out and you shrugged.

“Maybe Star 1117 isn’t a planet like your other planets in this galaxy,” Wooyoung added casually while munching on a potato stick. “Maybe it’s just an ugly old rock and you all think that it has to be a planet like Star 1116.”

“Well, I hope the authorities are looking into that possibility because the current cycle is ending soon. That means there won’t be a habitable planet for humans,” you said, looking at Jongho- while you were part alien, you functioned more like a human and couldn’t just travel in space without a certain amount of oxygen, just like Jongho. “And that also means that we will lose our home.”

Yeosang passed a tight-lipped smile at that- you all had family who lived in Star 1116 and refused to leave even though they were aware that this planet would soon disintegrate. They wanted to live there until the last possible moment before making a decision- die with the planet or move to a space pod. They were too old to do anything to save their home so you were using this opportunity to try to save it for them, along with your crew. While the government did not allow such missions for the common people, you were carrying it out secretly. You would be labelled criminals if you interfered with their mission.

“That’s a shame. I’ve heard Star 1116 is a very beautiful planet,” Wooyoung said and you all nodded- it really was the most beautiful planet to ever exist in that galaxy. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“Honestly, we have no idea, we’re just trying to find more information on when the cycle will end so we have a clue about how much time we have instead of waiting for the government to announce that we have numbered days,” Jongho said. 

He was about to continue when you heard static and you almost thought it was one of your own radios until Wooyoung got up and brought his radio back to the table, the four of you huddling closer to watch the messages appear.

“Pass me a pen,” you asked Yeosang who obeyed and you gave it to Wooyoung who had already opened the notebook to write down the message. It was mumbo jumbo to the three of you but all the colour seemed to leave Jongho’s face when Wooyoung finished writing the message.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked, patting his cheek to make him come back to his senses.

“Uh, let me confirm the message,” he mumbled weakly and you rushed to get his decoding device. He thanked you and started to insert the message in the device while already knowing the final version since he had played with this device enough to not need it anymore. When he typed the decoded message, he looked at all three of you before setting it in the middle of the table.

“‘I am 1118,’” Wooyoung read the message, frowning. “‘Do not save 1117.’”

Silence filled the room as the message hung in the air over your heads, your hands getting clammier with each passing second. You looked at Yeosang who looked just as lost and then at Wooyoung who was checking his readings again as if making sure that he hadn’t made a mistake.

“There is no Star 1118,” you said what everyone was thinking out loud. “Isn’t that right? Wooyoung?”

“I’ve never heard of Star 1118,” he admitted in all seriousness. “Star 1117 has always been the focus of attention, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “But someone from Star 1118 is sending you a message and telling you not to save Star 1117? Is that what it is?”

“There can’t be a Star 1118,” Yeosang frowned. “We can’t even locate 1117. I think if there were two missing planets, we would have found at least one, right?”

“Unless the government is hiding something?” Wooyoung suggested. “Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Yeah, he might be right,” Jongho agreed with Wooyoung. “But I think we should start with locating where this message came from. That would certainly make things easier.”

“I suggest an infiltration of your space council to find information because it looks like you’ve had no luck so far,” Wooyoung raised his hand while looking at you, asking if everyone was in.

“That’s too risky-”

“But you can read the aliens, right?” Wooyoung interrupted and you folded your arms. “You can read objects. You can read their data- all we have to do is sneak past them,” he said, folding his sleeves with a smug face. “And I happen to be a pro at that, as you already know.”

A jab, but also an attempt to smoothen the rocky beginning of your relationship. You scoffed in answer, knowing all too well what he was talking about from the bits you had seen from his journal. “We’ll be labelled space criminals. They would do anything to find us and have us tried in court.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re all space criminals anyway,” he shrugged. “You’ll only be living up to that title. Besides, don’t you want to save your home?”

“You will help us save our home?” 

“If I can be of help,” he nodded. “I came here to find Star 1117 too. We have the same goal, right? Find Star 1117 and save your galaxy. You get to save your home, and I get to rub this in my government's face and… clear the name of my friends who got caught in this mess without me.”

“Didn’t catch that sob story when I read you,” you told him and Yeosang snorted, resulting in all of you sharing a laugh, the room echoing with nervousness, anticipation and excitement-

And hope. You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he nodded earnestly, his smile making your heart feel warm, a feeling you had forgotten.

You smiled back this time.

—--------------------------

“Wooyoung, I swear to the all one thousand, one hundred and seventeen stars, if you don’t move your knee right now-”

“I’m trying,” he hissed, smacking your back and you let out a horrified gasp at his audacity. “I can’t move it- bear with it.”

“It’s digging into my calf and it hurts,” you sighed. 

“Whose genius idea was it to sneak through the vents again?” Wooyoung asked and that shut you up.

It took you all just about two days to form an elaborate plan that would involve Yeosang getting access inside the Space Council building to present the monthly report physically with the excuse of meeting up with his cousin who worked there. When he called his cousin, the poor guy was quite surprised since they weren’t on friendly- or any terms, per se. He did complain about the strictness of the Space Council and how visitors weren’t usually allowed, but since Yeosang’s parents were ex-employees of the Council, it helped his case and his request to visit was almost immediately approved.

That left Jongho in charge of camouflaging the spaceship and he contacted a few of his friends who happened to be mechanics and had some spare technology that they could share with him. They were sceptical about why the human needed camouflage- it definitely raised suspicion, but Jongho had always been good at shutting people up with money so the mechanics were more than happy to help him out, thanking him for helping their declining business. 

You and Wooyoung, of course, had to be the ones to sneak in. You were hesitant to take the human with you- his vitals weren’t the problem since he was wearing the watch just like you which ensured your vitals remained normal. The problem was the risk of taking an unregistered human inside the very space that made sure all humans were registered in their data. 

Plus, Wooyoung’s claim that he could ‘watch out’ while you read their data wasn’t very helpful- you weren’t sure if he would be able to get you out of a tight spot if you got caught. He claimed to be good with guns so you reluctantly loaded him with as many weapons as possible and when you were almost sure he wouldn’t be a liability, if not a help either, you agreed to let him accompany you.

He was good at sneaking in. He had studied Jongho’s inventory of machines and tools and taken anything he thought was useful. While Yeosang entered from the main door, the two of you turned on the camouflage on Jongho’s illegally obtained wristwatch and took access inside the building through the backdoor while another alien entered. Before you could be scanned, Wooyoung pointed at the vents and you squeezed yourself into the tight space, crawling on all fours with Jongho’s voice guiding your directions. 

“Can you both fight later?” Jongho huffed. “Take a left and then jump down- you’ll land in a storage room. I can’t guarantee that it will be empty, so make sure your camouflage is working and you’re silent when you land.”

“Got it,” the two of you muttered in unison and you angrily tucked your hair back before leading the way again, having Wooyoung follow behind you. You paused before it was time to jump down, extending your neurons to read the room and after finding no signs of life for now, you landed softly with a thud, signalling Wooyoung to come down as well.

“That’s convenient,” Wooyoung pointed at your fingernails. “Can they act as a weapon?”

“Haven’t tried that yet but I suppose I’ll be forced to, soon,” you pointedly looked at him and he stuck his tongue out before Jongho asked you to find your way to the storage room that was across the hall. Wooyoung opened the door just a fraction and you pushed him with your elbow to take a peek.

“No one outside?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” you whispered. 

“Well, that’s what your kitty claws are for. Go ahead,” he said and you sat down on the floor, extending the neurons once again and finding a few men who seemed to be on duty, stationed in front of the rooms that were on either side of this room. You got up and moved away to talk to Jongho.

“Is there no other way?”

“None,” Jongho sighed. “Should I ask Yeosang to do something about it?”

“No, I have a sacrificial lamb right here,” you smirked dangerously at Wooyoung, who pointed at himself with wide eyes and furiously shook his head.

Moments later, he was carrying a bunch of folders and going out of the storage room as if he belonged there. You watched from the crack in the door as he pretended to look at the room number and went just a few steps ahead before dropping everything to the floor.

“Curse the stars,” he huffed angrily. “I’m gonna be late and my boss will kill me.”

One of the guards came into your vision, looking at Wooyoung with narrowed eyes. “Who’s your boss again?”

“Just the angriest one here- no need for names, am I right?” He shook his head and the guard seemed to buy that for the moment. “Asked to get some files,” Wooyoung started gathering them and the guard bent down to help. Wooyoung looked back, meeting eyes with you for just a second before looking at the second guard. “Would you help? I need to grab another bundle from the storage.”

The second guard hesitantly joined the first, grunting as he bent down. Your heart seemed to be beating between your ears as Wooyoung came back inside the room.

“What do you say I knock them out?” 

“Just keep yapping- I’ll make it,” you told him and he signed okay, grabbing another box of files and going back outside. You heard the three talk among themselves and you mustered all the courage before making a dash across the hall, turning the knob-

To find it locked. It would need an identification card to open it, and you didn’t have enough time for Jongho to do his thing. Panicking, you looked at Wooyoung who visibly swallowed and you made a neck-slicing motion.

“Now who’s that?” The second guard spotted you and that was all Wooyoung needed to take out his gun from the jacket and smack the guard’s head with the butt of the gun. The other guard punched him in the stomach with such force that Wooyoung doubled up as he let out a weak exhale-

And before you knew it, the neurons were extending from your fingernails and slashing at the guards while forming a protective barrier around Wooyoung at the same time. Wooyoung yelled an ‘I’m okay!’ which finally made you stop- not after having inflicted enough cuts on the guards to make them clutch at themselves in pain. 

Wooyoung looked at you, half-impressed and half-horrified. You decided to make sense of it later and said, “We should probably… shut them in the storage.”

“Yeah… why don’t you use your murder mittens for that too?” 

You scowled at him but did exactly that and Wooyoung smacked them hard enough to knock them unconscious though you were pretty sure it was petty revenge. He dusted his hands and looked proudly at you afterwards, catching you stifling a grin. He raised a brow and you finally let out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“If you have both had your fun,” Jongho’s voice interrupted though he sounded amused- while he couldn’t see what was happening, the audio was enough. “Yeosang’s almost done and you’re still doing god knows what.”

“Sorry, Wooyoung’s having too much fun,” you put the blame on the human and moved along, ignoring the earfull that Jongho started to give Wooyoung. You used the identification card of one of the guards to open the door, finding yourself in the recent archives section of the control room- you didn’t need to tap into the alien parts to hear the chatter from the main room that leaked into this one.

“I’ll keep watch, you can start,” Wooyoung said and you nodded, wasting no time and shutting your eyes, letting the neurons branch out and touch everything in your surroundings- the shelf where hundreds of files were stacked, the numerous hard disks along with paper notes, the walls that contained memories of the people who had touched it recently, the floor where the employees must have walked a million times-

And where Wooyoung stood, and you almost thought your eyes were open when you saw him watching you in awe while staying alert. Despite not wanting to read him without his consent anymore, you saw the brief flash of what was playing in his head right now-

The sight of you slashing at the guards to protect him.

You pushed that scene and the feelings associated with it aside and let the neurons store every bit of information that they could until you started losing your breath and feeling faint- a sign that you couldn’t take it anymore. You thought you heard Wooyoung call your name before you retracted the neurons and rested your back against the wall, catching your breath.

“Too much?” He asked and you nodded, wiping your forehead. 

“We’re done, Jongho,” you said and he hummed in response, letting Yeosang know so he could leave as well. 

“Good job everyone,” Jongho said as you all started to make your way back out. “I’ll serve you all drinks tonight. And maybe sing for you.”

—--------------------------

If you thought Jongho was a good singer, he certainly had competition now. 

Sure, Jongho could move stars with his voice. You always joked that perhaps Jongho was an alien and his voice was his alien characteristic because there was no way a human could sound so powerful and mesmerising.

But perhaps, it was a human thing to sound so captivating, to sing like you intended to break the heart of the listeners and heal it again, to have your voice flow like the honey aliens only heard stories of- something they could describe and perhaps create association with yet only dream of having. Perhaps, it was a human thing to possess a voice that could make you feel like you were floating among the stars as one.

Or maybe… it was just Wooyoung. 

And just you, feeling all of that and more.

You tried reasoning with yourself- you had been hearing Jongho sing since he could speak so it probably didn’t sound so special to you anymore because you were used to it. If you could experience his singing for the first time again, you were sure you would be as blown away as the other person- as Wooyoung was.

But when Wooyoung sang in a voice so soft and mellow, you could feel your heart melt and you felt the sudden urge to sit out on the deck of the spaceship, in the hollow silence of the space and watch the stars.

“No way he’s the same person who sounds like an animal when he talks, right?”

You exhaled in relief when Yeosang said that but you were sure his drunken heart wasn’t as moved as yours was. 

And it didn’t help when Wooyoung locked eyes with you as he sang about the human emotions of longing, sadness, happiness and love. Of sorrow and bitterness, of peace and hope. 

You had been fine for the most part of the night- after returning to the spaceship, the boys started to prepare a meal while you passed out on the couch, surprising Wooyoung who was told that you were just taking a power nap to recover your energy. They woke you up when the table was set and while you ate, you told them that you were still processing the information you had absorbed and nothing you could process so far was relevant. While Yeosang told you all about his ‘adventures’ and how wonderful an actor he is, the room filled with overlapping chatter and laughter with the tinkling sound of your glasses as you drank. 

And now that the humans had been singing for a while, you silently excused yourself with a smile on your face that had been plastered on your face since you woke up. You exited the spaceship and laid down on the deck to watch the endless expanse of the universe. With your hands resting on top of your beating heart, you let your chest rise and fall in synchrony with the glimmering of the stars around you. 

You could hear your own breaths but Wooyoung’s voice still seemed to be ringing in your head and you found yourself smiling again. You recalled when your grandfather had told you stories of his father and his time on Earth- how humans used to sing at gatherings around fire while they ate candies or drank warm beverages. You had never experienced that but you always thought they might have looked strange doing that, until tonight when Jongho and Wooyoung started singing and Yeosang started clapping along- perhaps, this was what it was like to be truly human. To enjoy the little moments in life and make the most of them.

“Now that’s one way to stargaze.”

You almost jumped, letting out a startled sigh and Wooyoung grinned at that. “Can I join you?” 

“Uh, sure,” you patted the space next to you and he settled down, watching you for a moment before he assumed a similar lying position next to you.

“It’s beautiful,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily. “The stars.”

“Sometimes I wonder which of these stars were planets where we lived,” you said. “I think a lot of people here must look and wonder which one of them is their home.”

“It’s a shame how the cycles here work, but isn’t it somewhat relieving to know that the place that was once your home is now all around you? In the form of celestial matter.”

You turned your face sideways to look at him. “Is it though? To know that you have no home anymore?”

“But home is where the heart is,” he smiled, looking at you.

“Do humans still use that phrase on Earth?”

“We’ve always been using it,” he said. “Where did you hear it?”

“From my great grandfather.”

“He’s still alive?” 

“No,” you chuckled. “I have his journals. He missed planet Earth a lot but he said that home is where the heart is and his heart was here with his family. It never made sense to me, though.”

Wooyoung shifted his body to lay down sideways so he could look at you as you talked. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Home is a place, not an emotion or a feeling. My home is under the shade of the tree near my house where I grew up.”

“That’s where your heart is,” he told you.

“No, my heart is here,” you patted your chest. “It’s pumping blood.”

“My dear y/n,” he pinched your nose and if you had been sober, you would have smacked him. “Heart is an organ, yes, but it’s also a feeling. You leave a piece of your heart everywhere- back home, with your friends, with the people you lose. It is what makes you a whole person.”

“Still does not make sense to me,” you pouted.

“It will, one day,” he assured you, a knowing look on his face.

“What was your home like?” You asked after a few moments passed.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, folding his arms, his hair beginning to fall sideways slowly. You turned to face him too, unable to resist the urge to tuck them back. He didn’t comment on it, knowing it would remind you of the distance you were always consciously creating. “My home was near the sea- you have it here too, don’t you?”

“Something like that,” you told him, recalling the human sea you had seen flashes of from your great grandfather’s journal. 

“My home was the place where I spent my whole life, where my parents were,” he said and you noted how there was something sad about the way he smiled. “My home is with the friends I left behind, and even though my workplace started resembling a prison… that place is also my home.”

“Was it hard to leave home, knowing you might never go back?”

“Well, I didn’t think too much about it, I trust my navigational skills,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “But yeah. It started feeling like a mistake until I met you guys.”

You nodded- you knew all too well what he was talking about, having felt his loneliness firsthand. “Don’t you want to see your home again?”

“Maybe I’ll go back, but… I think I have a home here with you guys too,” he said cautiously and your brows furrowed as you tried to unravel its meanings. “Don’t you feel like you have a home here too? With the boys?”

You fell silent, pondering over that. “Will you show me your home, Wooyoung?”

“How- oh, with your kitty claws?” 

“I call them neurons, but yes,” you locked eyes with him. “I’ve always wanted to see what Earth looked like from my great grandfather’s mind. His journal doesn’t really give much.”

“What do you want to see?”

“Everything special about planet Earth, and… cats.”

“Cats?” Wooyoung frowned. “I thought you had them here? Yeosang called your neurons kitty claws?”

“It’s just a phrase we adopted from the description of cats and feline creatures we have in his journals,” you told him and he clapped, saying a long ‘ah’ in realisation.

“What about dogs?”

“We have something like that here, but I’d like to see that too,” you smiled.

“Okay, there’s so much to see- do you want to see now?” Wooyoung asked and you shook your head. 

“I’m still processing the information I got from the Space Council. Maybe some other day.”

“Sure, whenever,” Wooyoung said and you watched him for a few moments, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“Did I scare you earlier?” You finally asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since you came back. “When I attacked the guards?”

Wooyoung stifled a smile. “I think I was more surprised that you went all murder-mode to protect me rather than being scared,” he confessed, “but I won’t lie. It was a little scary.”

You bit your lips, feeling something like guilt wrapping around your heart. Wooyoung inched his hand closer, looking at you for permission before holding your hand and caressing it.

“You don’t scare me,” he admitted, “I don’t care if you are capable of slitting throats with your nails or neurons or whatever they are. I saw how frightened you looked when the guards attacked me. I can’t get that out of my head.”

Now that was new. “Why can’t you get it out of your head?”

“You and your questions,” Wooyoung laughed, bringing your hand closer to inspect. “Hey, your hands look pretty normal. Like human hands. Where do the neurons even come from?”

You showed him by protracting them just a fraction and he wowed, taking both your hands and examining the skin around your nails when they retracted. “Pretty seamless, huh? Can you produce them out of your feet too?”

“Yeah, Yeosang had a wonderful time having me try that,” you laughed at the memory. “I can, but I don’t for obvious reasons.”

“You would look like a frog if you did,” Wooyoung told you.

“What’s a frog?”

“I’ll show you when it’s time, but… I’m scared you won’t like it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and when he started describing a frog, he finally earned the long due smack, your laughter ringing in the space while Jongho and Yeosang watched from the window.

“Didn’t realise she could laugh like that,” Jongho wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“She laughs with us too,” Yeosang said.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand,” Jongho waved a hand in dismissal. “Her laugh sounds different.”

“Really?” Yeosang looked at Jongho. “Sounds the same to me.”

“It’s a human thing,” Jongho smiled and Yeosang shook his head at that, knowing all too well what he was talking about.

—---------------------------

“We have a big fucking problem, guys.”

All three heads turned dramatically in succession and you looked away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Did you finish processing already?” Jongho asked and you nodded, slumping down on the couch next to Yeosang who had been pretending to take a nap. The younger two, who had been playing some board game that Wooyoung had been teaching the boys, rolled their chairs in front of you and you nervously fiddled with the sleeves of your black shirt.

“Yeah, I sped things up and… do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

The boys exchanged glances and everyone agreed on the good news first. You took a deep breath, “The Space Council has identified all of us and are sending out ‘wanted’ posters. They know we stole information and they’ve put a bounty on us.”

“That’s the good news?” Yeosang looked just about as horrified as the rest of them. You let out a short laugh.

“Congrats on officially being labelled space criminals now, I guess?” You offered and Jongho groaned loudly, muttering something about how his parents were going to kill him, bounty or not. “Now, the bad news?”

“Go ahead,” Jongho muttered, folding his arms in bitter resignation.

“Well, I don’t know how bad it is but they have secrets that they’ve hidden so well that even I couldn’t read them,” you started and Yeosang whistled at that. “I kept hitting a dead end whenever I came across something related to Star 1117, and there’s absolutely no way of locating the planet- not that they know of, or if they do know, they’re hiding it a bit too well.” 

“So was our attempt futile after all?” Wooyoung asked.

“Not really- it means that they do know a lot about Star 1117- at least the higher-ups. They’re just hiding it from everyone else.”

“Why are they keeping it to themselves? Do they want to keep Star 1117 all for themselves when the time comes?” Jongho questioned. “Do they not want the rest of us finding out?”

“Or maybe they don’t really know a lot and are just as clueless as us,” Yeosang offered. “Did you find something about how to locate it?”

“I think radio waves are our best option, so Wooyoung’s radio will have to do. I have something that can help with that, so let’s just track whoever is sending us that message and get answers from them?” You suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. We’re already working on using the radio as a navigational device so let us know what needs to be done next,” Yeosang agreed.

“Sure. There’s also something strange I came across,” you added, “but I don’t know if it’s of any value.”

“Let’s hear it anyway,” Jongho leaned forward in anticipation.

“You know the stories about the first aliens in this galaxy? The Original Nexi who are supposedly the first aliens in this galaxy?” 

“Yeah, that bloodline still exists, right?” Jongho asked, having recalled hearing rumours about them. “The Original Nexi who are born, grow up until a certain age and then start ageing backwards until they die?” 

“The humans would love to hear their secrets by the way,” Wooyoung looked both ashamed and proud of his people at that moment.

“Yeah, so,” you continued. “I think the first aliens are from Star 1117- that’s what I read in one of the files. That must mean the planet exists. If we can find one of the Original Nexi descendants who are alive today, we might be able to get some information about Star 1117. Maybe some of them even live there and we just haven’t been able to find them. Maybe that is why they’re trying so hard to hide the planet.”

“Woah,” Jongho exhaled deeply. “Now that’s news.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, a sombre silence taking over while all of you collected your thoughts. You decided to break the silence and give them a heads-up. “Since we’ll be wanted criminals now, let’s cut all contact with the station and destroy any tracking devices on this spaceship. Jongho, I trust you can take care of that?”

Jongho nodded and you continued. “Yeosang, please make sure our families are safe when they go to investigate- make sure they know that it might get messy so they can defend themselves if need be, okay?”

“I’ll let our friends know too- especially people we’ve been in contact with recently,” he said in a grim voice and you agreed, the realisation that you would all be in danger soon washing over you with a crash and you involuntarily shivered. Yeosang patted your back. You glanced at Wooyoung who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Wooyoung assured you and you nodded in answer. “Let’s speed up our radio navigation first.”

You agreed and got up, moving towards the control panel with Jongho, and Wooyoung looked at Yeosang, wiggling his brows.

“I guess my role is still chef?”

Yeosang chuckled. “You can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. Kind of like an anchor, don’t you think?” 

Wooyoung was pretty pleased to hear that, immediately cheering up at Yeosang’s acknowledgement of his role as an ‘anchor’ when he had previously been referred to things like ‘maid’, ‘comic relief’ and worse. He disappeared into the kitchen knowing he didn’t have a lot of time before he would be called to help with the navigation.

And it was about an hour later that the smell of meat prompted everyone to drop what they were doing and join Wooyoung at the table. The meal was mostly silent, all of you feeling spent now that there was a threat hanging over your heads. Wooyoung could feel the palpable stress in the air but let you all have a moment to yourselves. After clearing the table, he was called to help with the navigation and he worked in harmony with Jongho and you, the hours passing by in a blink and sleep forgotten until-

“A signal!” Wooyoung shouted, making you and Yeosang get up with surprised grunts from your half-asleep state while Jongho high-fived him. 

“And, it’s gone- but it was there,” Jongho quickly input the readings into the radar and got a location. “Just a few tem-nex units away, should take us a few days.”

“Brilliant,” you felt hopeful all of a sudden, laughing in relief as you looked at Wooyoung in gratitude. He smiled in return, hand on his chest as he nodded. Yeosang clapped dramatically when Jongho started to yawn, making the two giggle and you got up, looking at the time.

“I think we should set our route and get some sleep, all of us. It was a long day,” you said and everyone agreed, Jongho immediately taking his place on the couch, pushing Yeosang away with little kicks.

“Go to your own room and get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll sleep here in case something fishy happens.”

“Alright, geez,” Yeosang rubbed his thighs, the youngest smiling as he swaddled the blanket. Yeosang saluted you and Wooyoung mockingly before going to his room.

“Want a drink, Captain?” Wooyoung offered and you gave him the side-eye. 

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep?”

“The adrenaline will take some time to wear off,” he explained and you shrugged. “I’d really like to take the drinks outside this time, and I could do with some company, unless you’re too tired?”

You decided to join- you could do with a drink and some company too, you reckoned. It had been a stressful few hours and your nap hadn’t helped at all- you kept thinking about whether you had been too reckless and doomed your friends and family by infiltrating the council and stealing top secret information. Sure, it could be justified- the government was all but dooming the people with the way they were handling things. If this really was the 1116th cycle, they had done little to nothing to prevent an apocalypse and the people were still in the dark about the ensuing damage which could be anywhere from just Star 1116’s collapse to the whole Temporal Nexus galaxy swallowing itself.

And you had never felt so worthless. You were merely a speck of dust in this vast galaxy and everything that you were doing to save it looked like it was all in vain.

“Cheer up, eh?” Wooyoung said as he clinked his bottle with yours. “It will be okay. We’ll be fine.”

You had to admit, you were rather impressed by his ability to read the room or the emotions of someone. He did it better than you could with your neurons and that was saying something. 

“I just feel like I’m going in circles. It’s not the first time we’ve received a signal that indicated that we might be close to Star 1117, but it’s the first time I’ve felt hope. I don’t know what I will do if it turns out to be nothing.”

Wooyoung hummed in thought. “If it turns out to be nothing, you’ll try again, just like you have for so long now. You won’t give up.”

“I know I won’t give up,” you nodded. “I want to do anything to make sure Star 1116 stays like it is, even if… even if I can’t ever go live there again.”

And perhaps, it was that possibility that had been weighing you down all along- what if you were chasing after something you shouldn’t and risking your chance of ever going back home? What if your last memory of Star 1116 would be when you got drafted as space patrol?

You recalled that day- just another morning with you munching on some snacks while you worked at the office with Yeosang and Jongho. The three of you had always been a unit even in the Space Centre in Star 1116. Your unit was the one in charge of detecting foreign matter around your planet but you were always abusing your power- since you had access to a lot of devices and archives, you were conducting your own research about Star 1117 which almost everyone was aware of. It wasn’t something you did secretly anyway.

But even though you saw it coming, the notice that your unit was transferred to Space Patrol still made your heart sink. You went to the superiors to have them change it- Jongho and Yeosang shouldn’t be dragged into something that you insisted on doing, but the two were already there trying to do the same for you. The three of you laughed like fools afterwards as you processed what this meant-

That you were on to something and the Space Centre did not want you snooping around anymore. That was how you ended up harbouring spite for the Space Council and continuing your mission in secret. It had been a long and lonely journey for the three of you but at least you had each other. And with Wooyoung’s addition to the crew… 

Things had definitely changed for the better.

“I can understand,” Wooyoung smiled wistfully. “I didn’t exactly leave Earth on good terms either. It was quite a similar situation as yours- I would have been imprisoned for trying to expose state secrets if I had stayed any longer, so I just decided to sneak away and collect evidence about their dealings with Star 1116 and their plans for Star 1117. I feel sorry for the people I left behind- they must be dealing with my mess.”

You recalled hearing about his friends earlier- he seemed to worry about them a lot. “Do you want to go back… once you collect your evidence?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Do you think I’ve been doing my job ever since I met you?”

“Well, I didn’t stop you from doing what you needed to do,” you muttered and he laughed.

“Look… there’s no way I’m going to go back to Earth and tell them that you exist. You’re the evidence I was trying to find, and… I’d rather keep you all to myself.”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned but he only took a few chugs of his beer in response. You crossed your legs, shifting to face him.

“I understand how much home means to a person, and I wouldn’t want to be someone who prevents you from going home and clearing the name of your friends. Please, I already feel guilty as it is…”

“Look, I came here to find out if the humans that got lost here were still communicating with my people back on Earth, right?” Wooyoung began. “Turns out those humans had morals after all, from what you told me. They never betrayed the aliens here and lived in harmony with the rest of the aliens here. They made a home here. Isn’t that beautiful?”

“And what about Star 1117?” You asked and Wooyoung’s lips tightened in a smile. “What have you been trying to find about Star 1117?”

“Well, you know why they sent your great grandfather and his group to the Temporal Nexus. Humans have always been in search of anything they can get their hands on; they're greedy like that. Be it slowing the ageing process or finding another planet that they can make their home. After all, Earth will collapse one day. In the solar system, they haven’t had much luck so they’ve always been secretly exploring other galaxies.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” You asked. “We’re the same. Our planet collapses and we go live on another.”

“But you take everyone with you, don’t you?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you frowned in confusion. “You do not leave your people to die, do you?”

You shook your head in denial and when he sighed, you had your answer. 

“Are humans that selfish?” 

Wooyoung stretched his arms, a melancholic smile plastered on his face. “Sometimes. Not all of them, I like to believe. It’s just the power that makes them lose their morals.”

“I guess it’s the same here then,” you shrugged. “The Space Council does not want us finding any information on Star 1117.”

“I have a feeling that they have a good reason for that. Let’s hope I’m right,” he settled the empty bottle on the deck. Yours was still half full and in your hands. You watched Wooyoung trace shapes on the surface of the deck, his dark hair falling down on his forehead. 

“Will you show me your home?” 

Wooyoung looked up at you in surprise. “Now?”

“I feel like this is the moment that I should read you,” you answered in all honesty and he looked a little confused but agreed anyway. You scooted closer and raised your hands in front of him. He awkwardly raised his own, intertwining them with yours before he realised-

“Oh, the forehead, right?” He was about to pull his hands away when you let the neurons extend and wrap around his hands, effectively binding them to yours and Wooyoung raised a brow in response, speechless for once. You stifled a smile and let the neurons wrap along the bulge of veins in his arms, the silver branches sneaking under his sleeves and taking shape along his collarbones before appearing on his neck.

When you felt Wooyoung stiffen just a fraction, you stopped, the neurons curling around his neck. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked with the silver branches on him, and it awoke a spark deep inside you. You almost felt breathless, as did he, before you asked him the one question that would make or break this moment.

“Did I scare you?”

Wooyoung looked at you for a few moments too long, watching your pupils contract and dilate in anticipation, silver like the extension of you around him. And he asked himself-

Was he scared of you? Did the idea of being so exposed to you make him want to cower away? Did he not like the way you had him trapped under you? Did he not appreciate that you were still asking for permission? 

Weren’t you only human too? Figuring out these unfamiliar feelings just like he was? 

Wooyoung decided to take a leap of faith in you and tightened his hold around your hands in answer- you had read him for a long time when he was first brought in your spaceship but that was a wholly different experience from this moment. This was so much more intimate with darkness enveloping the space, the stars twinkling like an endless glimmer around you, and the shift in your relationship now that you had warmed up to each other. 

A different way than he had warmed up to the boys, he noticed. 

“I’m not scared,” he caressed your hands in answer. “I told you before- you don’t scare me, y/n.”

You smiled in response and let the curled branches extend along his temples, wrapping around his head like a crown. You wished he could see himself in that moment, but you shut your eyes as he pushed his memories to you.

Earth. 

So different from the Earth that you had seen in your great grandfather’s memories. There was more architecture- tall greyscale buildings that threatened to touch the sky. Where was the green grass? Why did the sky no longer seem as blue as it had in the Earth that you had seen?

Suddenly, you saw exactly that- a sky of fluffy clouds with rays of sun emerging through it and painting the lush fields of grass yellow. You saw the flowers that you always loved- the same roses and daisies from your memories. There was the sound of water in the distance- waves. It had to be waves. There was the sound of a woman calling Wooyoung’s name and you looked into the distance at the small cottage. Someone zoomed past you and you twirled around again, taking a scared step back as you saw a little ball of black fur-

A cat.

A startled laugh left your lips as the cat rubbed its soft body on your bare legs. You picked it up and kissed the top of its head before running towards the smell of food- Wooyoung’s food- no, his mother’s food. The person he learned to cook from, the taste that he carried in his hands. 

The scene shifted yet again and this time, your legs were submerged in water and you looked around in confusion- why was the water falling from the sky? You craned your neck upwards to find that it was not the sky where the water was coming from but the top of a mountain, the stream crashing against deep brown rocks just like the one you sat on, a green carpet around it- moss, it was called. You had a stick in your hand and before you could figure out what to do with it, you felt two taps on your shoulders. You turned around to see a child who had a stick just like yours with a tiny creature lodged in it, threatening to fall on the ground. Scared, you cupped your hands and let the creature take refuge in your palm. You watched it carefully, the dark green bulge of its throat rising and falling in quick successions, and its tiny, webbed feet-

A frog. 

You were laughing as the frog jumped out of your palm and landed on the rock near you, joining its own little gang of friends. You washed your hands with the cool water and splashed it on the children around you.

This was what it was like to be a kid on Earth. 

You opened your eyes and saw Wooyoung smiling widely. He grinned before he asked, “Did you see it?”

“I did,” you pouted. “And I do not look like a frog, Wooyoung. Shame on you.”

Wooyoung laughed loudly, squeezing your hands subconsciously. “What else did you see?”

“Well, I saw a cat, thank you very much for that,” you smiled. “I could smell food- your mother cooked for you, right? It smells just like your food.”

“Really?” He seemed pleased to hear that.

“Exactly like that,” you confirmed. “And… I saw tall buildings. What was that?”

“That was the city where I lived before I came here, where I moved to after I grew up.”

“It looked… void of life,” you told him and he agreed. “Earth has changed.”

“We call it ‘modernised’,” he shrugged. “But yeah. Earth has changed, and so have its people.”

“Do you want to see my home someday?” You asked, beginning to retract your neurons and he shivered slightly. “It’s not much, but it’s definitely something like the Earth that my great grandfather left behind. And I wish I could show you like you showed me, but… you can see it in person.”

“You’d take me to Star 1116?” He asked in surprise.

“Yeah, well, don’t think I’m doing it for you,” You started and he scoffed. “It looks like we’ll have to go anyway- at least to warn the people if things don’t work out.”

“Well,” Wooyoung kept his hands intertwined with yours even after your neurons were fully retracted. “I’m not one to give false hope but let’s not give up and stay optimistic about this, okay?”

You nodded and looked at his hands that fit so well with yours, and you found yourself thinking how truly incredible it was to be this fascinated by such a simple thing as your hands in someone else’s. And that led you to think about how much you had changed since you met the human from Earth.

Wooyoung seemed to have noticed that you were deep in thought and he leaned down a bit to enter your vision, gently asking, “What are you thinking?”

You looked at his deep brown eyes that glinted with mischief and curiosity as he held your gaze. You let your eyes travel along the slope of his nose, pausing at his parted lips that were starting to curve into a smirk.

“I’m thinking you’re too close,” you muttered, pushing him back but he only pulled you closer which induced a startled gasp from you. 

You sucked in your breath just as quickly when he caressed your knuckles with his thumb before planting a kiss on both your hands. He then proceeded to look at you, his gaze almost darkening.

“Too close?” He asked, almost as a challenge. You were too surprised to answer, an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling pooling in your stomach. 

“Let go of my hands before I chop your hands into pieces,” you warned and he immediately let go, raising his hands in surrender and he would have thought that you were serious were it not for the laugh that you let out afterwards.

“And you said I don’t scare you?” You scoffed. “Try harder, Wooyoung.”

“Hey,” he scoffed back in utter disbelief. “You played dirty. I cherish my hands, okay? If you shred my hands into pieces I can’t do this-”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you close- a bit too close, so that your faces were mere centimetres apart. Your eyes widened in surprise and when his initial surprise wore off, he tilted his head a bit, his eyes scanning your face and looking for any signs of apprehension. Upon finding none, he proceeded to cup your face with his other hand.

“If you hurt my hands, I can’t hold you like this, can I?” He whispered.

“Wooyoung-” you began but he shook his head, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead and grinning cheekily afterwards, making you smile shyly. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, letting go and scooting away this time. “Don’t go all kitty claws on me please-”

This time, you decided to show him just what Yeosang had meant when he called your hands kitty claws. If it was the planet Earth, or even Star 1116, his shrieks and laughter would have woken creatures from their deep slumber.

But since it was just your spaceship, it only made Jongho and Yeosang grunt in their sleep and his voice was lost to the stars.

—------------------------

“This is insanity,” you managed to say, your breaths quickening with every second as you monitored the radar, watching not one, not two, but three patrol spaceships enter the range of your spaceship, quickly covering the distance behind you.

“We’re running away, right?” Jongho asked but didn’t wait for the answer, pressing a button and activating the speed boost, though that did nothing to calm you. You climbed up to the dome to take a look at your surroundings, zooming through the glasses that all of you had on since you spotted a spaceship following you. 

A number of things had happened in the last few days which led you to this point, so close to finding out the source of the signal Wooyoung had been receiving on his radio. Your names were circulated among all the residents of the Temporal Nexus with a significant bounty on your head, and even Wooyoung’s face was plastered on the ‘wanted’ posters. That prompted you all to cut contact with everyone including your family and acquaintances, though Yeosang had sent a warning to the families and assured them that you would be okay. However, the anxiety that came with the possibility that you all might not ever be able to go back home gnawed at all of you.

For now, there were more important matters. Jongho worked on camouflaging the spaceship as best as possible while the rest of you worked on tracing the signal to the most accurate location, finding yourself in unfamiliar territories. The Temporal Nexus was a vast galaxy and your spaceship was well-equipped so it allowed you to cover a great amount of distance in a short amount of time but there were some spaces in the galaxy that were considered ‘red zones’ or unsafe, to put it simply. These spaces were usually considered to be a hotspot for mysterious, unexplainable spatial activity and it was thought to be the points where a planet may have completed its orbit in time, resulting in a ‘tear’ in space. To the naked eye, it would seem like a mass of vividly coloured gases with little electrical sparks emerging from it. All the residents of the Temporal Nexus knew to avoid it-

But the residents of Temporal Nexus weren’t nosy like you were. And how could you ignore it when the signal was coming right from that point? It was only a matter of time before the Space Patrol around the red zones would detect your spaceship and be on your tail-

And here you were. Just a few hundred tem-nex units away from the red zone, from the source of your signal, the Space Patrol quickly catching up, the boys preparing to attack while you monitored the situation- it was just an excuse to take a breather and think where did it all start going so wrong. If you got arrested now, it would be the end.

“Captain?” Jongho called. “We’re closing up on the red zone. What do we do?”

“We can’t steer around it, can we?” You asked grimly, climbing down and going to look at the map that highlighted all the red zones in the galaxy- there were about eight red zones in your proximity alone and the only clear path was your way back which was now crowded with space patrols.

“Not really- I don’t think we can lose them,” Jongho took a deep breath.

“I say we keep going,” Wooyoung said. He had been monitoring the radio which started malfunctioning as soon as you entered the range of the red zone. “We’re getting signals from there- all the messages we got are from that mass,” he pointed at the blue cloud of gas not far from you now. 

“It’s dangerous,” Yeosang shook his head. “There’s no telling what could happen once we enter that mass.”

“Only one way to find out,” Wooyoung’s lip curved in a smirk. “I have a feeling there’s a reason the space patrol is hell bent on catching us before we reach the red zone, and it’s not our safety.”

“Makes sense,” Jongho agreed. “There have been instances of people trying to get to one of the red zones but never have the space patrol been so active in trying to stop them. Usually one ship is enough.” 

“We are wanted criminals,” you reminded them. “They have a reason.”

“And what’s the reason?” Wooyoung asked. “That you almost found out information about Star 1117’s location? And now you’re going to the red zone? Hell, if I had to say, it would look like you’re on the right path.”

Yeosang exchanged glances with you- Wooyoung was on to something. It made sense- if you had tried stealing information about any other thing, perhaps the Space Council wouldn’t have reacted so brashly. 

“Alright, forwards we go,” you announced and Jongho nodded, immediately going back to steering the spaceship. “But if at any point we feel like it’s dangerous, we’re going back, space patrol or not.”

“Got it,” Jongho grinned, speeding up the ship once again. You went back to the dome to activate the shield, deciding not to go on the offensive for as long as you could manage- you didn’t want more charges added to your criminal record.

For a few moments, all of you focused on your tasks- Yeosang blasting any rocket that came your way, Jongho focusing on entering the red zone while Wooyoung assisted him, monitoring the radio. You gave directions from the dome, silently praying that this mission would not be a futile one when you heard the familiar static noise from the broken radio. 

Immediately, all of you were hovering around Wooyoung and watching the radio try to display a message on its screen but failing to. It looked like something was disrupting its signals.

“It has to be because we’re near, right?” Wooyoung looked up at you and you nodded. 

“Keep following the source- I’m going to try and get readings from outside,” you told them but before you could move and anyone else could verbally stop you, Wooyoung grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t go outside. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m only opening the dome,” you told him gently, your heart clutching at the sight of worry in his eyes- for you. “I’ll be right here.”

Wooyoung hesitantly let you go and you gave him a small smile before going back up and opening the dome, taking a little peek out. You rested your palms on the surface of the exterior and let the neurons spread around the spaceship so you could read the air and the surroundings- it didn’t always work but sometimes when there was something foreign in the air, you could read it.

“We’re entering the red zone in front of us in about two minutes, Captain,” Jongho warned. “You sure you want to be out?” 

“I’ll be fine- it’s not dangerous,” you assured him but still shut the dome halfway in case you would have to retreat in an emergency.

However, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. 

Jongho announced that you were going to enter the zone in about thirty seconds and Yeosang positioned himself beside you with his gun. The two of you were covering the back of the spaceship when the air around you turned foggy, indicating that you were in the red zone’s range. You were just trying to get a reading when you saw something from the corner of your eye-

“Jongho!” You warned but it was too late- another spaceship came out of nowhere from within the red zone and hit the back of your spaceship so that Jongho lost control of the steering. The impact of the collision made your spaceship swerve dangerously to the left, making it spin. Yeosang lost his footing and unceremoniously landed down, shouting in warning and you retracted your neurons just in time to draw your hands back before the domed window fell back in its place. You would have fallen in a painful position but Yeosang managed to catch you just in time, though the rocking of your spaceship still made your head bang against the ladder rather painfully.

“I got it!” Jongho shouted and managed to stabilise the ship, and the gasp that he let out when he finally got a clear view outside made you wonder if something had gone wrong-

But Wooyoung looked just as speechless. Yeosang helped you up, making sure you were okay before you two joined them to look at the scene outside-

It was the same pitch black darkness of the space, void of any stars but surrounded by the blue masses of gas. And right at the centre was a small, glowing thing- it was too far to make out its shape but it looked like a rock from afar.

“Are we inside the red zone?” You asked in confusion.

“We crossed it, and now we’re inside the space surrounded by the red zones,” Jongho settled back in his seat in surprise. 

“And we’re getting a proper signal- look,” Wooyoung managed to add amidst the confusion of the situation, pointing at Jongho’s device that you had used to track the signal from Wooyoung’s radio. 

“There’s no one following us anymore” Yeosang went to check from the dome as if he couldn’t believe the radar readings. “We’re alone here.”

“Did you see the ship that crashed with ours?” You asked and Yeosang shook his head in denial. “Damage report?”

“Minor, nothing to be worried about for now,” Jongho assured. “So? Do we inspect that? Why is it glowing like that?”

You looked at the luminous thing in the middle of the space- this couldn’t be Star 1117, right? It was too small to be a planet. Was Yeosang right then? Was this just a byproduct rock or mass of the star that was once a planet?

“Before we go,” you began, a suspicion gnawing at you. “Let me read the collision real quick. There’s something odd about the spaceship that collided with ours.”

“Right? We didn’t detect it on the radar,” Jongho said. 

“That might have been because of whatever was messing with the radio signals?” Wooyoung suggested but you weren’t sure. You went back to climb the ladder that led to the dome and this time, you sat outside on the surface while you protracted the neurons to read.

And what you saw made cold wash all over you- you must have let out a surprised sound because Yeosang was outside with you, his eyes filled with worry.

“It can’t be,” you shook your head. Nothing made sense anymore. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked. “Tell me.”

“It was our spaceship,” you told him and he frowned in confusion. “I saw our spaceship- this exact one.”

“That’s impossible,” Yeosang shook his head. “Maybe you’re wrong?”

“I’ve never been wrong,” a grim realisation started to dawn on you and you beckoned him to follow you down. “It wasn’t detected on our radar because it’s our spaceship. And it must have crashed with ours to bring us here, to this point.”

“Are you thinking… duplicates? Time travel?” Jongho looked at you in disbelief. “I could call you crazy if we weren’t here right now, but… you know those are just theories, right?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” you said, understanding his point, “But I know what I saw.”

“Time travel in the Temporal Nexus, huh?” Wooyoung scratched his chin in thought. “Isn’t that what Temporal Nexus means in the first place? A point where different timelines intersect?”

“That refers to the points in our galaxy when the cycle of one planet comes to a completion right when the cycle of another planet begins,” Yeosang said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Unless…”

“Unless your Space Council decided that’s what you all should know?” Wooyoung smiled knowingly. “Just like they didn’t tell you about that thing? About the red zones? About Star 1117? About Star 1118?”

“Let’s just… inspect that first before we start drawing conclusions,” Jongho said weakly and you all agreed, taking a seat next to the two. You sat next to Wooyoung and looked at him- could he be right?

He seemed to understand exactly what you were feeling, and when he slid his hand in yours, you didn’t draw away. You held it and squeezed it back. You needed that.

And it seemed like he needed that more when you started getting closer to the luminous form and realised that it looked more like a person than a rock or a star.

“Am I… going crazy?” Jongho asked, pressing the side of his glasses to zoom in, “or is that a literal fucking person hovering in the middle of space?”

“Are you sure that’s our source?” Yeosang sounded doubtful as he looked at Wooyoung who was beyond speechless, for once. You checked for him and sure enough, you were on the right path.

“Stop the spaceship,” you said when you saw the figure move and Jongho immediately did. The figure- person- turned around and all of you wowed and cursed under your breaths. 

“That’s just… an Original Nexi, right?” Yeosang stood up to get a better view, prompting Jongho to continue approaching the figure. “Apart from the… glowing part.”

It sure looked like one- it had the characteristic androgynous appearance of one, with a stone etched under one eye like a teardrop. Jongho stopped the spaceship and looked at you.

“Are we inviting them in or are you going out?”

“No way that thing steps inside,” Yeosang shivered involuntarily. “I don’t want my spaceship glowing and sticking out like a sore thumb.”

“I’m pretty sure the glowing isn’t contagious,” Jongho laughed. “But he’s right. It’s better if the two of you go out. We humans can chill and watch, right, Wooyoung?”

“Right,” he sank lower in his seat. “You’re on your own, sweethearts.”

Yeosang scowled at the human before extending his hand for you. 

“Don’t even try to read that thing,” Wooyoung warned in a low voice. You pursed your lips in answer before you joined Yeosang, exiting the spaceship from the dome and climbing down at the shaft that Jongho had opened for you to stand on. 

You were now facing the figure, standing tall and powerful- there was no way this was just one of the Original Nexi- this person and everything about their presence was making you want to sink to your knees. 

“Ah… how many times have we crossed paths now?” Its voice, smooth as silk, sounded inside you. Startled, you looked at Yeosang who was just as shocked, if not more.

“I don’t think we have crossed paths…” you narrowed your eyes as the person smiled knowingly. “Who are you?”

“I take it you got the message, then? It must be our first time meeting,” the person sighed as if the weight of the world was crushing it down. You noticed how up close, the glow from its skin wasn’t as obvious- perhaps, you were engulfed in it now. 

“Who are you?” Yeosang asked. “And how are you here, like this?”

“Who do you think?” It asked, positioning itself so it looked like it was perched on an invisible surface. “You are looking for Star 1118, right?”

“And how do you know that?” You asked. This time, there was no apprehension in your voice but simply curiosity and wonder. 

“Because I am the one you have been looking for,” the smile on its lips was so sad that it made you want to cry. “I am the one you saved and the one you let go of. I am the beginning and the end of this Temporal Nexus- I am Temporal Nexus, in its truest form. I am what you call Star 1117, and what you will call Star 1118 if you make the mistake of saving me.”

This time, your knees did go weak and Yeosang let out a gasp, utterly astounded. The person just watched you both with eyes that were both apologetic and full of resentment.

“Star 1117… is a person?” You breathed. 

“Not really,” Star 1117 shrugged, the golden long hair flowing like a halo around its figure. “Just one of my forms. Just one of my names.”

“I don’t understand,” you said, turning to look at Jongho and Wooyoung who were listening in to your conversation from inside, both equally dumbfounded.

“Sweet child of the Nexi,” Star 1117 began. “I am the Temporal Nexus. I am all the stars in this galaxy and their cycle. I am the Original Nexi, the very first, and all of you are my descendants. At this moment, I am Star 1117- Star 1116’s cycle is almost complete and as a cycle comes to completion, I start assuming the next form. This is my final form, for the final cycle- there are no planets anymore- not after 1116.”

You did not know for how long you simply watched the person’s figure shimmer as if it was also a mass of gas- perhaps, if you touched it, your hand would pass right through its form. You and Yeosang stood in shock, trying to process your thoughts.

Star 1117 was a person, not a planet. This being was the core of the Temporal Nexus.

“If you are the Temporal Nexus,” Yeosang began, glancing at you for a moment before continuing, “you must be the past and the present. Isn’t the last cycle supposed to be the 1117th?”

“As the fates have intended, yes,” Star 1117 nodded. “And you’re out here to change that. In fact, you do. You find a way to save me and have the Temporal Nexus live its 1118th cycle. But that is where everything goes wrong,” the person smiled in a melancholic manner. “The Temporal Nexus is supposed to die with its intended last cycle. If you try to change the design of the universe, the universe finds a way to retaliate.”

“‘Do not save 1118’,” you quoted. “Why?”

“Because you triggered not only the end of the Temporal Nexus but the end of the galaxies surrounding me!” Star 1117’s voice boomed this time, making you clutch Yeosang’s hand. “The solar system is next- it will swallow in on itself, before its intended time. There will only be an end and no beginnings anymore.”

“That’s impossible,” you shook your head in disbelief. “You sent a message- to not save 1118. That means you were alive.”

“Oh, I was alive long enough to find a way to make things right,” Star 1117 smirked. “The human in your spaceship- it is he who sent my message. It is him who crashed into your spaceship just now so you made it here- it is him who gave us another chance to make things right and not make selfish decisions.”

You turned to look at Wooyoung who had an incredulous look on his face as he pointed at himself. You turned back to the Original Nexi.

“How?” Yeosang asked.

“In the time when I’m 1118, I’m weak and I fall,” Star 1117 admitted grimly. “The human who never made it to Star 1117 and never met any of you found my weak form. With his help, we formed the last link to the past and here we are. He does not remember because it is not him- it is the person who crashed his spaceship in yours. His origin and conclusion will remain to be unknown until you make a decision- save me, which will lead me to the human on Earth, or let me go, which will take us to a new path- perhaps, one where the world doesn’t end like that.”

“It was our spaceship that crashed into us,” you said.

“And I always wondered how he came to possess it,” Star 1117 sighed. “I hope you make the decision that leads to that moment in this timeline.”

“The decision to let you go?” You scoffed. “We will have no home- what about all of the Nexi? Aren’t they your children? Do you not care for them?”

“I do. But I have lived long enough, and I have seen what happens if you try to save your galaxy. Do not make the mistakes you have made so many times now,” Star 1117 almost pleaded. “Do not save me. Save yourselves.”

“I will save my home and the people who matter to me,” you said through gritted teeth. Yeosang put a warning hand on your shoulder but you shook it off. “You are the Temporal Nexus. You can’t die like this- you can’t take away my world- our world,” you motioned at the boys inside the spaceship. “I will find a way to save you and the galaxy.”

With that, you turned on your heels, not waiting for Yeosang. You were far too overwhelmed to think or care. 

“There is no other way. You have tried everything. You have failed every time.”

Star 1117’s words were lost to space. Yeosang stood awkwardly, wanting to follow you inside but having too many questions of his own to do that. He turned to the being. 

“If you are the Original Nexi, does that not mean that you grow old and young like your descendants?”

“I did, in the beginning, when I was young. When I was Star 1,” Star 1117 smiled. “After a certain time, when I started approaching my end, I got stuck in this miserable state, unable to age and unable to do anything but exist and die a little with each cycle,” the star raised its hand, proving that indeed, there was a translucence to its body indicating the weariness that dripped from its voice in a physical form. “Your people- the Space Council- they protected me and tried to help me, but to no avail. They realise that there is no answer to this. Some things are meant to die at their time, Kang Yeosang. Tell your friends that I have suffered enough for this world.”

—-------------------------------

You must be human, you thought, because you couldn’t stop crying.

Ever since the conversation with Star 1117, you had been overwhelmed to no end. You came back to the spaceship and shut yourself in your room. You knew the boys let you have your space for a while but it was Jongho who came to knock on your door first. 

“Captain? You alright in there?”

You didn’t respond though you were pretty sure he could hear your sniffles. He continued. “I’m not exiting the red zone until you’re out, okay? Until I have your orders. Take your time, I understand.”

You muttered a thank you and that was enough for Jongho. It was Yeosang who came next to check on you.

“All that talk about not being as emotional as a human. Tsk tsk. Look at you,” Yeosang said, attempting to lighten the mood. You did let out a dark chuckle though that only made you cry some more. 

“Come on. Tell me what’s got you crying so much.”

“I just need a few minutes,” you told him. “I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“It’s okay- just… come to us if it’s too much, okay? You’re not alone.”

You knew that. You were not alone, however, you had never felt more lonely. And you were starting to realise why-

You had subconsciously read Star 1117. While Star 1117 had been making all those claims, your neurons protracted just a fraction. The luminous light around you was a part of the being after all-

And all you got to read was pain. Extreme pain- not the physical kind, but the one that weighed on your soul. You felt utter loneliness- one that crushed you like nothing else. You felt the urge to cease existing but also felt helplessness like nothing else. No wonder Star 1117 had sounded so weary. You couldn’t imagine being in its place.

But then… what about your home? What about your people? What guarantee was there that you could all make it safely out of the Temporal Nexus when the last cycle comes to a conclusion? You had only one purpose in life ever since you understood how your home would die in your lifetime- and that was to prevent it. If you could not stop the unavoidable, you would have liked to have found a new home-

But there would be no home in the Temporal Nexus anymore. This spaceship was not a home. Space pods were not home- besides, you would have to find a place in another galaxy. What if you were never welcomed anywhere anymore? What if your family and friends refused to leave this galaxy?

You must have stopped crying a while ago, staring endlessly at the plain ceiling when a knock sounded. You had no energy to hum a response. The door clicked open and someone peeked in.

“I’m coming in,” Wooyoung announced, sitting next to you on the floor in a similar crouching position, your backs against the wall.

“Drink some water- please,” Wooyoung requested and you finally spared him a glance, taking the water bottle and drinking a few gulps.

The water from Star 1116. That was your home.

“Did you finally process all of it?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told him, “I’m so lost.”

“You read Star 1117, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked gently, already knowing the answer. He couldn’t help but slide closer when you nodded with an absolutely heartbreaking expression, tears in your eyes. He intertwined his hand with yours and let you rest your head on his shoulder- he could tell you were tired but he needed to tell you something too.

He told you that he went outside to have a conversation with Star 1117, and he told you what he learned from it- specifically about Star 1118 and Wooyoung’s role in all of this.

“The Temporal Nexus is the point where the past, the present and the future meet,” Wooyoung explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “In the past, there was an alien girl who was half-human but had beef with her own human counterpart. Her name was y/n-”

“Wooyoung-” you warned though the two of you shared a chuckle over that. 

“She was the captain of her little crew, with Jongho the human driver, and Yeosang the pretty alien… fighter? Engineer? What even is his role?”

“We don’t have roles, we just… make do with what we can do,” you shook your head. “But carry on.”

“Right. So, the Captain learns that Star 1116’s cycle is about to end, and that Star 1117 is not a planet but a being by infiltrating into the Space Council- this time through the main door, not the vents,” Wooyoung laughed. “She learns about how the Space Council have also been trying to find a solution to save their home but are closer to giving up than to finding answers. Together- because that time you don’t become a space criminal- you find a way to prolong Star 1117’s cycle by concentrating the energy of all the red zones scattered out in the galaxy and transferring it to the last cycle.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded. “Red zones are energy byproducts of the previous planets.”

“Right? Star 1117 reluctantly agrees, and you all succeed- Star 1116’s cycle prolongs and leaks to Star 1117’s. The original last cycle, the 1117th, was supposed to be a shorter one since it’s just the galaxy ending itself before it reaches the 1118th cycle. But this time, the 1118th cycle begins. You all realise that you made a grave mistake and that the galaxy will eat itself like it was supposed to, but since it requires more energy to do that now, it will swallow the neighbouring galaxies and possibly trigger the end.”

You took a deep breath. “I triggered the end.”

“Not you alone, but basically… yeah. It suits you, doesn’t it?” Wooyoung chuckled, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and caress your arms assuringly. 

“Not helping,” you muttered.

“Well,” Wooyoung huffed in resignation. “You try to make things right. You get this spaceship to Star 1117 and get it on board- its form is weakened by then and it is Star 1118 by that time. You set the destination to Earth, knowing someone on Earth would have figured out that their solar system was going to collapse soon and would do anything to change things. You leave the poor Star alone and go to save your family and friends.”

“And Star 1118 makes it to you?”

“Somehow, yes,” Wooyoung nodded. “I have always studied the Temporal Nexus deeply, so when I receive signals on my radio- yes, the radio I have now- I go to investigate the source and find your spaceship underwater near my hometown. With the help of my friends and the Space Centre on Earth, I recover that ship and find an ethereal being inside- Star 1118. Since the being is the Temporal Nexus- the past, the present, and the future of your galaxy- it finds traces of itself on me from another time.”

“Oh heavens,” you raised your head up to look at him. “It’s a time loop, isn’t it?”

“More romantic than that. We were meant to meet, y/n,” he smiled widely, pinching your nose but you were too surprised to react. “Star 1118 sets the loop into motion- or rather, propels it forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards. Jung Wooyoung now has one mission- to find the tear in space that will transport him to that moment to warn you-”

“The spaceship that collided with us,” you breathed, understanding how it worked. “It must have taken a few attempts.”

“Hence why it is a loop,” Wooyoung nodded. “However, Jung Wooyoung also did something else, which was quite genius of him if I have to say.”

“And what’s that?”

“Jung Wooyoung and Star 1118 worked together to send messages to my radio, which prompted the present me to make different decisions. And here we are,” he concluded with a dramatic sigh. “Things have changed. You can still make the same decisions and it might lead to a time where Star 1118 is not able to go to Earth to warn Jung Wooyoung. That would be the end. Or…”

“Or I could let it be,” you shrugged away from Wooyoung’s arm and buried your face in your hands. 

“I think you already know, but Star 1117 has suffered a lot,” Wooyoung said, and you were once again amazed by how gently he talked to you despite knowing what you had done- what you might do. “It suffered alone for 1117 cycles. You put an end to its sufferings and you might find a new home. A better one.”

“My home is Star 1116,” you said, though the words started to sound like a weight over your heart now. “Not everyone can let go of their home.”

“I thought you understood by now that home is where the heart is,” Wooyoung said and you looked at him to find him smiling. “Where’s your heart, y/n?”

Like the soft embrace of a mother, you felt the answer wrap around the physical organ that was your heart- the answer that was a feeling, an emotion- and not strictly a human one at all. You didn’t have to be human to understand that your heart belonged to the people around you- to your family because they were yours, to Jongho and Yeosang who were your friends, and to Wooyoung- the human who had to be your saving grace. 

Home was also the house and the land where you grew up, but it was not the location or the building that made it a part of your heart- it was the things that you associated with home. Your alien mother, your human father. Their parents who had once lived there, whose memory clung to the walls and was etched in the frames that sat on the mantle. Home was the lake next to your house but what made it a part of your heart was the memories of splashing water on Jongho and Yeosang, and the memories of your parents teaching you how to swim.

Home was where the heart was. And as long as you had the pieces of your heart next to you, you would be home.

“Did you find the answer?” Wooyoung cupped your face to wipe the tears that left your eyes, smiling knowingly. You smiled back, clutching his hands that were caressing your cheeks.

“Home is where the heart is,” you told him, your voice wet with emotions. “And you are my heart, Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes curved like moons as his smile grew wider. He nodded, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful this piece of your heart was. You leaned forward to rest your hands on his neck, surprising him a bit. His hands went to rest on your waist and you pecked his lips, looking at him shyly before pecking them again, unable to look at him any longer so you closed the distance between you two as you hugged him. He let out a laugh of disbelief before he relaxed, burying his nose in the crook of your neck and hugging you back just as tightly, rocking your bodies slightly.

“I found a home with you too,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

You nodded, your heart filling with foreign emotions- like a pleasant tickle to your heart. Perhaps, this was what it felt like to give your heart to someone.

—-----------------------------------

Everything was happening too soon for your liking, but with the help of your friends, you were coming to terms with the fact that you could not save the Temporal Nexus Galaxy- that there was nothing that could be done and the best decision you could make was to let Star 1117 go. 

You stayed in the red zone for a whole day after your talk with Wooyoung. Exiting the red zone would mean confronting the Space Patrol and you had to make a decision before that. Jongho and Yeosang were coping by studying about time loops and talking to Star 1117 about how it worked and if there was any possibility that could work- if Star 1117 was all the past, present and the future of the Temporal Nexus, it would know if any of the decisions the residents of its galaxy made led to a hopeful future. But there was none. 

After exhausting every possibility, they finally came to talk to you and let you know that they had made their decisions- they were going to get their families out of Star 1116 and find a new home. They were also aware that some of their families and acquaintances might choose to stay and disintegrate with the planet, with their home. Now they were just waiting for you to make your decision.

And it was a little conversation with Jongho that made you wonder just what you had been so bitter about.

You joined him by the window as he stared at the blue masses of energy around the spaceship. He smiled to acknowledge your presence before saying, “Wouldn’t it be so good if we could just go back to the past and relive our childhood?”

You smiled back- your childhood really was a fond memory, something you kept very close to your heart. “How young are we talking?”

“Hmm… good question. What would you say is your happiest memory on Star 1116?”

“Honestly? Probably the time when I showed you and Yeosang that I finally learned to swim. We had a little fight afterwards about whose technique was better,” you said and he grinned at that. 

“What do you think? Would you like to go back to the past?”  

You pursed your lips in thought. Sure, your past was a golden memory and saying that you missed that time and wanted to go back wasn’t supposed to hold literal meaning, but if you were offered to go back, would you?

“What about you?” You asked.

Jongho exhaled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t. I like where I am now. I’m still with you and Yeosang. Nothing has changed.”

You nodded- your answer was the same. 

“And I will continue to be where the two of you are,” Jongho added. “Create more happy memories. Hell, maybe we’ll look back to this moment one day, right?”

You nodded slowly. Wooyoung had changed your perspective a lot and you were finally starting to understand Jongho.

“I might even visit Earth and see what the hype is about,” Jongho suggested and you chuckled. “Maybe we can all go to drop Wooyoung. He’s slowly taking over the spaceship. Next thing we know we’ll be calling him captain and he’ll be slaving us.”

“Right? Maybe we can chuck him into that mass and see where he lands,” you pointed at the red zone in front of you, sharing a laugh with Jongho. 

“You know, I thought about it a lot, why in all the timelines that exist, according to Star 1117, you- we keep making the same decision- trying to save the galaxy. Do you know what’s the only difference this time and why we all are seriously considering letting things be?”

“Wooyoung?”

“Yes,” Jongho confirmed. “This is the only timeline known to Star 1117 where he makes a different decision and ends up being a part of the crew. Makes you think about how the butterfly effect works, right?” He ruminated. “In all the timelines, we made different decisions that led us to the same outcome- apocalypse. Things are very different now, and this might be our last chance at making sure we do not trigger the apocalypse.”

“I know,” you folded your arms around you, hugging yourself. “We can’t be the only factor triggering the apocalypse though, right? What if we make the right decisions this time but we still end up losing everything?”

“Well… only one way to find out- if we make the right decisions now,” Jongho looked at you, hope in his eyes. “So. Did you make a decision?”

“I think you know,” you looked wistfully into the space around you. “Let’s go say goodbye to our home.”

Jongho smiled proudly at you. “Star 1117 told me that you were very bitter and hellbent on saving the galaxy in all the timelines. It’s good to see you smile like this, Captain. You seem almost human.”

“I am human,” you said casually but for Jongho, it was the first time hearing you acknowledge your human lineage and he put a hand over his mouth dramatically to stifle a gasp. You only rolled your eyes in response, spotting Wooyoung from the corner of your eye who simply passed you both a cheeky smile and waved before disappearing into the kitchen. You recalled just how adamant you had been about not accepting that you were human too. 

But being human didn’t sound so bad anymore.

And with that decision, you said your goodbye to Star 1117. The being did not thank you for making the right decision. It simply curled in on itself and weeped, the tears escaping its eyelids and evaporating into the air like glitter. You felt the being’s exhaustion and sadness as though it was tangible and that only made you more sure about what you had to do.

Right as you exited the red-zone territory, there was a spaceship waiting for you. It signalled for you to stop and a person stepped out, displaying their Space Council id and demanding to enter your ship. For a moment, you were scared of the consequences of your action- were you going to be arrested now? Would you not get to say goodbye to your home? But when the person made an okay sign, a collective sigh of relief passed and Yeosang pressed the button to open the door for them.

The tall figure clad in a black striped suit with a waistcoat entered, looking around your spaceship with curiosity. You noticed silver extensions on one of his hands, kind of like your neurons except they almost looked like an accessory. The other hand was covered in a black glove and you wondered why.

“Greetings,” he smiled. “I’m Jeong Yunho from the Space Council. It’s good to finally meet you, y/n.”

“Me?” You frowned. “Do I know you?”

“You don’t,” he shrugged, “but I do. From multiple timelines. I’ve been on your case since the very first timeline, working with Star 1117 to find a solution that does not involve exterminating you because Star 1117 insisted that while you and your friends may be its doom, you could also be its saviour.”

You suddenly felt dizzy at his admission.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my adventures chasing your crew,” Yunho chuckled. “But for now… I’d like to accompany you to Star 1116 and make sure you stay on the right track. You will need me if you want to go home because I have not yet lifted your criminal charges. And… you have an unregistered human aboard,” Yunho glanced at Wooyoung who waved his hand awkwardly. “We have a lot to do, folks.”

You scanned his figure with suspicion, your neurons extracting subconsciously wanting to get a reading from him. He noticed that.

“If it helps,” he began. “I’m one of the Original Nexi. There’s a group of us that work in the Space Council solely for the sake of protecting Star 1117.”

“You’re letting Star 1117 die, though,” Yeosang commented in your stead and you silently thanked him. That had been on the tip of your tongue too.

“The Temporal Nexus is called temporal for a reason, isn’t it?” He retorted. “To protect the essence of Star 1117 and this galaxy is to protect its heart- its residents. But I think you all already understand that by now.”

The knowing smile he passed you made you want to ask more questions but he interrupted with clapping and barking orders- you were apparently short on time now and needed to inform the residents of Star 1116 and the rest of the galaxy as soon as possible so everyone could make the big decisions and they could initiate their final operation- to leave the galaxy for good.

And it was no surprise that it was Wooyoung who got the Original Nexi to talk and open up. While Jongho set the spaceship on auto towards Star 1116, the three of you watched from a corner, huddled next to each other. Not too far on the table sat Wooyoung with a warm meal for Yunho, learning anything and everything about the Original Nexi and Yunho himself, learning about his experience with your crew in the different timelines and more. You didn’t even realise that you were biting your nails with narrowed eyes full of scepticism until Wooyoung looked around for you and laughed at the sight of the three of you.

“I guess I’m relaxed because it is actually our first meeting- we haven’t met in any other timeline,” Wooyoung grinned. “Not that I would have known if we had anyway. Right?”

“Right,” Yunho grinned back, shaking his head at the three of you. “Just a reminder that we were friends in some timeline and enemies in the other.”

“Yeah, I think I can understand why,” Yeosang muttered, looking pointedly at Wooyoung. 

“How are you able to remember the timelines?” Jongho asked his first question in a while.

“These,” Yunho raised both his hands and shared a look with you. “We’re quite similar, but I’m able to look into different timelines too.”

You made an impressed face and the blinkers lit up, indicating that you were reaching Star 1116’s territory. Jongho went to steer the spaceship himself and Yunho joined him, striking up a conversation having noticed the equipment on the dashboard. While the two talked, Wooyoung joined you and Yeosang, resting his hand on your knee and squeezing it to make sure you were okay. You nodded in response and pointed at the screen, your heart filling with warmth at the sight of the star.

“We’re home.”

Home. As soon as you could see the lush green fields that surrounded your house, you were on your feet and making your way to the screen, eager to step out. You would have to land at the Space Centre where you previously worked and Yunho made sure you could pass through every security check without any inconvenience. Wooyoung stood next to you and you told him all about the Space Centre and your time as a unit there. 

Wooyoung’s eyes were filled with awe, his mouth parted in surprise as you all stepped out of the spaceship. The view from the screen had been good, yes, but nothing compared to stepping inside that picture, and for Wooyoung who was a human from Earth… you wondered if that was what your great grandparents and their team must have felt when they first landed on Star 1116.

“It’s like Earth, you were right,” Wooyoung nodded, almost jumping when a few will-o’-the-wisps circled his figure and fluttered away. Jongho giggled at his reaction and smacked his back.

“Like Earth but prettier, right?” He said. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

“No, you heard that right,” Wooyoung agreed. “Our grass looks dull compared to this- how is it so vibrant?”

“Wait till you see the lakes,” you told him, knowing that was probably the most surprising part from the memories of your great grandfather. 

“We should show him the cave too!” Yeosang joined you both. “It’s a nice spot to bury him- no one would know. He’ll be dust along with the planet-”

“And he would never make it past the tarantulas that protect the cave,” Jongho chuckled darkly and Wooyoung decided he felt safer with Yunho, falling in step with him while the Nexi shook his head in amusement at the interaction. 

“You should have chucked me in the red zone,” Wooyoung folded his arms and you snickered until you realised that he must have heard that bit from your conversation with Jongho. You exchanged a glance with the youngest who pointed at you, transferring all the blame. Wooyoung’s pout deepened and you took a deep breath.

“Boys, I’m going to steal this one for a while,” you went towards Wooyoung and hooked your arm around his, your crew hooting in appreciation and suggestively wiggling their brows, Yeosang going as far as pretending to gag. You asked Yunho if it was fine and he assured that it was, asking all of you to meet up back at the Space Centre in a few hours. You intertwined your hand with Wooyoung’s.

“What would you like to see first?”

“Hmm…” Wooyoung took a while to think, his eyes scanning everything in sight the further you walked away from the Space Centre, looking at the passersby with curiosity- you couldn’t blame him. The residents of Star 1116 looked far from human in their appearance- from looking almost human like Yeosang to having iridescent coloured skin or accessories like horns or wings.

“Show me your favourite places- all of them,” Wooyoung looked at you, kissing your temple. “Show me the shade of the tree near your house where you grew up, the lake… the places from the journals that you talked about- everything.”

“Would you like to meet my family too?” You asked hesitantly, not sure if the human would be up to it but his warm smile erased any doubts in your heart.

“I would love to.”

“My mother will love you,” you laughed. “My father can be a little… hard to please.”

“Well, I know just how to win his heart,” he winked at you and you accepted the challenge.

You showed him all your favourite places, keeping your house for the last. You walked around the streets without a care in the world for the first time in a while, making him try some local delicacies and showing him the animals unique to Star 1116- it was more of a surprise to him to find that the things you called ‘dogs’ here were more spiky than furry and he told you that you were missing out on the joy of hugging a dog. You grimaced- hugging a dog here would create pokes in your skin unless you had scales or a protective barrier like most of the aliens here.

You took him to one of the bigger lakes in the area and he was utterly fascinated by the way he could see almost every creature inside the lake thanks to the glowing properties of the soil under the lake. He experimentally dipped his hand inside the water, feeling the coolness of the lake quite like Earth’s but somehow feeling more at ease- it always unsettled him when he was near a water body on Earth and could only imagine what was prowling inside. He looked around, noticing the little things that made Star 1116 so beautiful- mountains made of smooth, patterned rocks. Trees with leaves of multiple colours, unaffected by the season and with little gems dangling from the tips of its branches where flowers would have been. The strange birds with their unusually elongated bodies that flew in the sky. The sky that was dark and the ground that he stood on that lit the planet.

It was truly a magnificent sight, and Wooyoung could understand why you- why everyone was reluctant to let go of their home.

Lastly, you walked to your house and you pointed at all the places on the way which had some memory associated with them. You told him about how the humans lived in a little community here- most of them were too old to leave their home. Some of them rarely came home, opting to explore the space instead- like you. Then you told him about your family- your mother was a crime scene investigator and your father was a medical researcher. Wooyoung was impressed to hear that and told you he would love to hear more about that.

When you reached the little cottage by the lake, you paused and took a deep breath, taking in everything. It was still the same- the wooden exterior looking worn out, the smell of wet mud filling your nose, the sound of children in the distance. You pointed at the house.

“That’s me.”

Wooyoung nodded, giving your hand a squeeze to tell you that he was ready. You walked towards the door and pressed your thumb on the lock, the door clicking open and then you heard the familiar footsteps of your mother approach you. Her face lit up at the sight of you and then she paused when she saw your hand in Wooyoung’s. She scanned him with curiosity. You looked back and forth between the two- it would only be a moment until your mother would realise that Wooyoung was not a human. And Wooyoung-

You could tell why he looked surprised- your mother wore her neuron extensions like a crown over her head at all times. Apart from her striking copper hair, she looked very much like you. 

Your mother smiled knowingly at the two of you before spreading her arms and you grinned, walking right in her embrace and melting into it. 

“Well done, love,” she whispered. “I heard about what happened with the Space Council and Star 1117. You did so well.”

“I’m sorry,” you told her, knowing that she didn’t need your words to hear what you were sorry about, nor did she need to read you. She simply knew what you meant. She always did.

“No need for that,” she drew back with a kiss to your forehead. “I see you have a guest.”

“Yes, this is-”

“A human,” your father completed that for you, clad in a mismatched outfit which was indication that he had been holed up in his room with some research again. Wooyoung finally bowed at your parents. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jung Wooyoung… from Earth.”

“And what are you doing here with my daughter?” Your father inquired. You may have rolled your eyes if this was any other situation but your mother let you know that she had also heard about Wooyung’s role in the recent events. Relaxing a bit, you let Wooyoung handle the situation.

“She arrested me, sir.”

The room was silent for a moment before your mother snorted, ending up with all of you laughing and you shook your head at Wooyoung- you had never told him about how your parents met but it was something similar. Your father welcomed him with a pat and kissed the top of your head before steering him to the lounge, eager to hear the stories from Earth. 

And just like that, the house became a home with Wooyoung and your mother cooking together while they chatted, your father and you catching up with each other. Not too long after, the doorbell rang and in came Jongho and Yeosang, claiming to have ‘smelt’ Wooyoung’s cooking all the way to their house. They definitely didn’t get a message from your mother to join them.

You had about half an hour left until you had to go to the Space Centre. Your heart felt full watching all the people you loved gathered and Wooyoung fitting right in as if he had always been a part of this little unit. He caught you watching him with a smile on your face and raised his brows in question. You signalled that you were going outside and once he joined you, you asked if he wanted to sit by the lake.

“I’ve been soaking up all the memories of today,” you told him, showing the neurons on your fingertips shaped like nails. “I don’t think I can ever forget today’s events.”

“I did well, right?” He smiled proudly when you nodded in response. “Well, I’ve always been everyone’s favourite even back on Earth.”

You made a face at that and he scoffed. “Read me if you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you- you have a way of charming people,” you admitted and he grinned. You showed him the spot next to some big rocks where you used to sit when you needed space. 

“This is probably my favourite spot on the whole planet,” you told him, flattening your hands on the ground once you sat, reliving the memories of this place in quick flashes. 

“I can see why,” Wooyoung looked around. With your home on the back and the view of the mountains in the front, he thought he could stay here forever.

“Yunho told me that Star 1116 will die soon, but the galaxy itself won’t end soon- it will take some time and if we’re lucky, it won’t happen in our lifetime,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. We will still need to find a new home. We can’t make one in the Temporal Nexus anymore.”

“Well… if you hadn’t told me that Star 1116 was your home, I would have assumed the spaceship was,” he said and you raised a brow. “It has such a homey feel to it. We can take all our time to explore the other galaxies and find a new home.”

“We?” 

“You don’t think I’m going back to Earth just like that, do you?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “Not without you, at least.”

“Really?” You made a face. “I thought I’d be getting rid of you soon-”

Wooyoung leaned forward right when you turned, your noses brushing and your heart fluttering. Wooyoung’s gaze fell on your lips and a little smirk creeped on his own lips. 

“I know why you have your kitty claws out, sweetheart,” he tilted his head just a fraction and you instinctively gulped. “You’ve been saving all the memories of this place- with me this time.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. Your lack of response was an answer to him and he fully smirked as he drew back. 

You wanted to tell him that you brought him here to make one final memory of this place. You curled your fingers around his hand and when your eyes met, it was like he understood your intentions. He took your other hand and pulled you over him so that you settled on his lap.

You trailed the pointy tips of your neurons along his temple and his spine, making him shiver. He loved it when you watched him with fascination and teased him experimentally as if you were afraid of his reaction. However, he welcomed every little thing you did to him. He let you cup his face and when you kissed him, he groaned in relief before kissing you back, one hand supporting him up while the other curling in your hair. You moved your lips along his in synchronisation and you loved the way he held you.

You drew back once you were out of breath, sharing a grin- this was your first proper kiss. You rested your hands on his shoulders and he lay down on the ground, eliciting a surprised sound from your mouth at the new position. Before you could comment on it, he cupped your face and brought you in for another kiss, the other hand going to rest on your waist. It was slow and sensual, not a care for time or any other thing. Just you, Wooyoung and your favourite spot in the Temporal Nexus. 

When you broke apart and settled down next to him in his arms, you watched the stars together and you showed him one that glowed with a very familiar golden tint.

“That must be Star 1117.”

Wooyoung agreed, absently caressing your arm. You looked at him, finding him deep in thought. You scratched his chin like you had seen him do to the black cat from his home and he smiled at that.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… will you watch the stars with me every night from now on?”

You kissed his cheek in response.“Only if I get to sleep in your arms- you are my home, Jung Wooyoung.”

[spacesimp]

i've got a bad case of the fags 😔

[ozarkthedog]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: it's been years since Dieter last saw you, his childhood friend and the unrequited love of his life. still, he doesn’t blame you for leaving.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!childhood friend!reader

warnings: angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic. w.c: 1.0k

an: for @punkshort AU August writing challenge, I was given the prompt, “childhood friend with Dieter Bravo” thank you so much for hosting! huge thanks to @ghotifishreads for letting me talk your ear off about this little idea that took on a life of it's own and for reading this over. ilu!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Dieter rubs a hand over his face as he steps from the SUV into a throng of flashing lights and frantic screaming. It was the premiere of his first directorial and writing debut; a lot was riding on this.

Sure, he'd won an Oscar and various other award nominations, but this was an entirely different beast. This movie was special to him. It was the first script he wrote after getting "clean." He always scoffed at that word. Clean. Was he pure and holy now simply because he kicked hard drugs to the curb?

He takes a deep, slow breath, adjusts his velvet purple suitcoat, and moves down the red carpet. He autographs cards and pictures, takes selfies, and banters with a few fans before moving on to the press.

It doesn't feel right being here alone, he thinks, his left side feeling raw and exposed like a wound that never healed. 

After rewriting the script several times, he has his assistant mail it to a few studio execs before having them print out one last copy. He wrote down your name and told them to send you the script. He wanted to deliver it to you in person; it felt like the right thing to do, but he couldn't be sure you ever wanted to see him again after what he put you through.

He's stronger these days. Mentally and physically healthier. He's lost a bit of weight now that he's no longer downing pills and chasing them with alcohol. It took him a while to get used to feeling again. Sitting with the uncomfortable thoughts and not letting them take control. He's proud of himself. He thinks you would be, too. 

You.

Seeing a large open field littered with red flowers while driving home from rehab for the second time kicked him square in the gut. Flashes of his youth came back in vivid, blinding colors.

Chasing his dog, Dali, around the yard. Playing with you in the field of wildflowers behind your house. His throat tightens.

You.

You were his reason. The sun he revolved around—inseparable childhood friends.

When you first met Dieter, he was covered in chalk dust, drawing funky, green aliens with big eyes on the sidewalk in front of his childhood home. You'd just moved in next door, and your Mother told you to go make friends. He looked at you in awe as you stood before him, the sun creating a golden crown around your head. "Wanna be friends?" you blurted before kneeling and pestering him about his chalk alien.

From that moment on, you were forever linked. Dieter never wanted anyone else.

From scabbed knees and hide & seek to strange body changes and long school days. Consoling Dieter after he's pushed into a locker, copying each other's homework, watching Dieter shine on the theater stage, and spending almost every minute together that you could.

He wondered if you ever felt the love he held for you—the love that surpassed sibling bonds and grew stronger every time he laid eyes on you. The love that made him self-conscious and shy away from speaking his truth despite years of yearning. He couldn't convince himself to jeopardize the friendship or that you might possibly feel the same.

Cut to Dieter asking you to move to LA with him to be his assistant once his star power steadily rose. 

To the elaborate movie sets and lavish premieres, to the long nights and unspoken feelings. 

To find Dieter on the floor with vomit spilling from his lips to the empty bottles of pills and booze splayed around his Hollywood Hills home. 

The bickering, the raging parties, and the friendship that was slowly dying. 

The shell of a man he used to be. 

You were never around when he needed you the most after he drowned himself in booze and pills. He never blamed you. He was often inebriated, covered in a mess of sweat and other fluids. You could only stand to see him self-medicate for so long. 

"I can't keep doing this," he remembers you saying as tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled while he sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of his unmade bed with that usual glazed look. "I can't keep trying to save you."

He remembers wanting to argue, to save whatever piece was left. He tried to chase after you, but his brain and body were still under the haze from the night before, limbs heavy as lead weights, and they no longer listened to his commands. 

How your face twisted with a devastating sadness made his heart shatter. He never meant this to happen, for it to get this bad.

Had Dieter known the repercussions, that the last image he'd have of you would be wiping fallen tears that he caused from your cheeks, he would've gotten clean eons before. He would've let this version of himself die without a second thought. He wanted to be the man you counted on, with your best interests at heart. 

The man you knew him to be.

—

Just as he's about to step into the theater, he hears a voice call his name—a voice that would wake him from the dead. 

You.

His heart aches; it bursts with unnerving energy as he watches you approach. His gaze never leaves you as you glide across the room to where he stands, frozen. Could he be hallucinating?

"Hi D," his nickname sounds like heaven as it leaves your lips. He never wants it to end; he wants to hear it forever. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner. I needed to make sure I was in a good headspace to see you again." You nervously wring your fingers, and Dieter can't stop himself from reaching out and locking your hands together, calming your combined anxious energy.

"It's okay," he whispers, throat tight, holding back elated tears, "I'm glad you're here."

A smile tugs at your lips, eyes shiny with your own tears. "Me too."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[callmeagardengnome]

˚ʚ paint my world ɞ˚ | SONG MINGI

pairings ᯓ idol!mingi x painter! fem!reader

genre ᯓ soulmate au, one-shot

synopsis ᯓ you’ve been seeing in black and white for all your life - until a popular idol comes in and changes things

w.c ᯓ 2.7k

author’s note: make sure to like and repost!!

not proofread!

masterlist

blue. you’ve never seen blue before.

you stood in front of the clothing rack in shock, trying to process what you were looking at.

from the moment you were born, you were cursed by your soulmark. colour was something that was foreign to you, something that didn’t seem real. you never understood why your friends would fight over certain crayons or when people looked up to the sky, admiring its beauty - it all looked the same to you.

as depressing as it sounds, seeing in black and white wasn’t too bad. you weren’t distracted by the things around you and you could actually focus in school for the most part.

sure, you had a few awkward moments. like when you wore a completely mismatched outfit - highlighter yellow shirt paired with murky orange pants and pastel pink shoes. if anything, it taught you a learning lesson to always ask your parents for fashion advice.

ironically, you became a painter after you graduated. you were always a creative kid and being colourblind wasn’t going to hold you back from releasing your works into the universe.

you slowly rose to fame, with your artworks capturing the eyes of millions around the world. you even managed to earn a lot of money from it, leading you to buy more supplies for your job.

you stood up from your chair, cracking your back. you’ve been working on this certain art piece for at least 7 hours and you decided to finally take a break. it’s been a while since you’ve painted - you took a short holiday to one of your favourite countries which led you to forget the long hours of sitting down.

you reached for your phone, dialling your best friend’s number.

“hello?” your best friend’s voice echoed in the room.

“i’m boredd,” you groaned out, flopping onto your bed. “can we do something?”

she chuckled. “i’m guessing you’re done painting?”

“i’m taking a break,” you said, shifting, making yourself more comfortable.

“if you want, i can pick you up and we can go shopping?” your best friend suggested, her voice sounding more excited.

“you know me so well,” you replied, hanging up almost immediately. you ran to your closet and picked out a simple outfit, one that you knew matched each other.

you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your best friend to text you. when she finally came to pick you up, the both of you went to your favourite shopping centre, looking at the different stores.

that was what led you to.. blue? pink? yellow?

in all honesty, you had no idea of what colour you were looking at. when your best friend decided to stop at a random clothing store, you thought that it wouldn’t hurt to look around a little bit. while she was in the women’s section, you went over to the men’s section - you never know if they have better clothes.

you browsed through the selection of clothes mindlessly until a shirt caught your eye. “ayo what-“

you went closer to the shirt, one that stood out in a vibrant colour against the monochrome background. you touched the sleeves, the material. it was alien to you. for all of your life, everything was in greyscale. you’ve never seen anything as bright, or beautiful as this shirt that was in front you. you took a moment to inspect the shirt, wanting to imprint the colour into your mind. after all, you never know the next time you would see actual colour.

“‘____’?”

you turned to look at your best friend, who stood a few steps away from you, looking confused.

“…are you okay?” she asked cautiously, not knowing why you looked so stunned.

“dude-“ you coughed out, glancing between the shirt and your best friend. “i can see colour.”

her jaw dropped. “wait- really? can you see the colour of my shoes?” she pointed at her shoes eagerly, nearly dropping the pile of clothes she was carrying.

“well- no..” you replied, disappointed. “but i can see the colour of this shirt..?”

“hm..” your best friend hummed, moving closer to you. she awkwardly reached into her pocket, before starting to google about your soulmark.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

when mingi found out that ATEEZ was going on tour, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. of course, he was happy that he got to meet the international ATINY, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he couldn’t properly enjoy the trip.

to him, he didn’t really see the fun in leaving the country, or even going outside. everything looked the same to him. no matter what, he couldn’t see the true beauty of the things around him - so what was the point of feeling excited to go overseas?

mingi flinched when the lights shined intensely in the plane. he slept throughout the entire plane ride, not even bothering to look outside the windows. he absentmindedly followed his group, trailing behind everyone as they got off the plane.

“what..?” his thoughts echoed in his head as he looked around at the airport.

it was.. bright. unusually bright.

it was almost comical how bright the airport was - it even hurt his eyes. he had to blink a couple of times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

he stopped following the group, taking in his surroundings. was this what normal people saw?

everything was so.. vibrant and bold. he couldn’t even comprehend that people could see this on the daily and not talk about it more. sure, he bumped into a few people by stopping suddenly, but that didn’t matter - in fact, nothing else mattered. mingi could see colour, and he wasn’t planning to stop anytime soon.

“dude are you okay?” yunho snapped his fingers in front of mingi, finally catching his attention.

mingi furrowed his eyebrows, hitting yunho’s hand away from his face. yunho looked at mingi, concerned. “we’ve been calling you for the past five minutes, why are you standing in the middle of nowhere?”

mingi turned away from yunho, shifting his eyes around the airport. “i can see colour.”

a collective ‘WHAT’ was heard from the group as they gathered around mingi, attacking him with questions.

“i don’t know, maybe this airport is just.. different?” mingi said, unsure.

“does that mean your soulmate is here?” wooyoung asked, looking at his members curiously.

“maybe,” seonghwa shrugged, typing in his phone. “i just googled it, apparently you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touches or the places they’ve been in often.”

yunho whistled. “that means your soulmate in the same city as us,” he said, nudging mingi.

mingi smiled, running his fingers through his hair. “how long are we staying here again?”

“..four days?”

“i only have four days to find my soulmate?” mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. “how am i supposed to do that?”

“i mean.. we have one rest day..?”

mingi groaned, his face in his hands. he was so caught up with the thought of finding his soulmate that tour completely left his mind. he had spent all of his life in black and white and he didn’t want to return back to that.

mingi asked his members to teach him the different colours. he ended up learning that colour can have different hues, brightness and he didn’t want to stop being surrounded by these colours.

unfortunately, they had to leave the airport due to their packed schedule. everything became ten times more boring. the cars passing by, the trees, the pavement, nothing interested him anymore.

his member’s obviously noticed his change in mood and did a small detour to a nearby shopping centre. they wandered around, going to different stores, looking at the different items the city had to offer.

mingi cheered up a bit when he entered a clothing store that was his style. he made a beeline to the men’s section and tried on a shirt that he liked. unluckily, his manager had to drag him to the car, preventing him from buying the shirt.

luckily for you though, fate brought you to the shirt. you unhooked it from the rack, bringing it closer to your face.

“what colour is this?” you asked your best friend.

“it’s blue,” she answered with a wide grin on her face, barely containing her excitement.

you nodded, unable to take your eyes off of the shirt. “where is blue found?”

“the sky,” she said eagerly. “the ocean too, it’s really beautiful.”

she added, “blue is normally used for sadness though. a lot of films portray it that way.”

you didn’t know that a beautiful colour like blue, could be associated with such a depressing emotion. it didn’t make sense to you.

however, you put off your feelings of confusion. now wasn’t the time to question these sorts of things. now was the time to find your soulmate.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

it was day 3 of ATEEZ being in your city. with each day passing by, mingi felt more and more anxious. he hated the fact that he didn’t have time to find you and how he had to spend most of his time performing.

obviously, he was extremely grateful that he got to meet his fans, but there was a part of him that always felt irritated.

not only that, on the day that he was planning on resting, he got interrupted.

“shouldn’t you ask someone else?” mingi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“no one here likes art,” hongjoong groaned, sitting next to mingi. “i get that you’re colourblind but pleasee accompany me.”

hongjoong was begging mingi to follow him to an art museum. there was art exhibition going on that was intriguing to hongjoong - but unfortunately, was not interesting to his members. this led to hongjoong asking his colourblind member as a last resort to follow him to the museum.

“maybe you can find your soulmate there,” hongjoong mentioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“i doubt it,” mingi scoffed. “but you know what? i’ll follow you.. cuz i’m a good friend.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before running off to get ready for the art exhibition.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

you looked at yourself in the mirror, debating what outfit to wear. should you go casual? formal? after a year of working on it, the launch of your art exhibition was finally here. it was an important milestone in your life and you did not want to mess it up.

you sighed, walking over to your closet. your eyes immediately landed on the vibrant blue shirt hanging on the side of your dull wardrobe. was this the right choice? it was a nice shirt, and it did feel nice to know what colour you were wearing for once.

after considering it, you grabbed the shirt from the rack and hurriedly put it on. you needed to make it to the museum quick - after all, you didn’t want to be late to such an important event.

you booked a taxi to the museum, going over to where your artworks were stationed. you looked at your art pieces in pride, unable to stop yourself from smiling wildly at them.

mingi and hongjoong reached the museum slightly later than they wanted to. they had to squeeze through the swarm of art enthusiasts crowding at the front of the exhibition.

when the two men finally reached the start of the exhibition, they’re eyes widened in shock. while hongjoong was impressed by your artistic talents, mingi’s jaw was on the ground for a different reason.

it was fully coloured.

he’s never seen a coloured picture before, let alone a painting. when he glanced over at the other art pieces, he noticed that they were too, coloured vividly.

“why- why is this coloured?” mingi muttered to himself, moving closer to the painting.

“you can see this?” hongjoong asked in surprise.

mingi nodded, walking over to another painting. “yeah.. all of the paintings actually.”

the two of them stood in silence, both thinking about what this could mean.

“dude- is the artist your soulmate?” hongjoong exclaimed, staring at mingi with wide eyes. “you can see colour of the objects your soulmate touch right?”

“uhuh..”

“you need to find her,” hongjoong said, squeezing mingi’s arm. “it’s the first day of the exhibition, she’s 100% here.”

mingi wasn’t prepared at all to meet you. the idea of even being in the same area as you terrified him. he was thinking about finding you on their last day in the city, he hadn’t even finished planning out what he wanted to say to you.

unfortunately, hongjoong pushed mingi away, forcing him to look for you.

mingi had zero clue of what you looked like - he had no idea of who he was looking for. after a while, he noticed that one of his shoe laces were untied and kneeled down to tie them. that was when he noticed something strange.

he saw blue-coloured footsteps littered all over the ground. he quickly stood up, looking around the room like a madman. at first, he was was searching for you without any real evidence of you being at the museum, but now, everything changed.

you were actually there, and he was going to do his best to find you.

as creepy as it sounds, mingi followed your footsteps, trying to trace where you were going. it was obvious that you were frantically running around the museum, for reasons that he did not know.

while mingi was trying his hardest to find you, you were trying your hardest to prevent any issues from happening. there had been certain entry problems or people requesting you to explain some of your artworks, which led you to scurry around the museum.

your eyes were glued to your clipboard that had all of the things you needed to take note of jotted down. you were so focused that you accidentally bumped into someone.

“sorry-“ you apologised quickly.

mingi picked up your clipboard and handed it to you. not expecting much of the interaction, he almost immediately moved away from you until.. you made eye contact.

the world around you seemed to stop.

the colours came in gradually at first - the blush of red in your cheeks, the rich colours in your eyes, the vibrant blue of your shirt. it was like the first brushstrokes of a painting, the colours spread and bloomed, saturating everything around you.

you blinked, staring at the man in front of you. the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew. he was the one - your missing piece. your soulmate.

“hey,” he spoke up, his deep voice surprising you slightly.

“hi..” you replied, barely above a whisper.

the both of you stood up, the universe revealing itself to you. for the first time, you saw the world in its true beauty - it was alive.

the museum held different hues, different shades of colours you could barely recognise, each colour filling you with a joy you didn’t know you could feel.

mingi smiled. “i can’t believe it,” he said softly. “it’s so.. beautiful.”

you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions bubbling to the surface. “it really is,” you said, unable to pull your gaze away from him.

mingi wiped the tear rolling down your face, pulling you closer to him.

“you’re so pretty..” he muttered, studying your face.

there was a pause - one that was comfortable. the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, not wanting to look away.

“can i try something?” mingi asked, tilting your jaw up.

your heart raced as a blush crept up to your cheeks. “sure,” you replied, feeling a flutter in your chest.

mingi leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away if you wanted to. but you didn’t. instead, you closed the distance between the two of you with your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

the world around you seem to overflow with colour, with the blue in your shirt mixing with the brown of his jacket. the colours in your paintings swirled, creating a beautiful illusion of contrast.

the both of you pulled back, smiling at each other. you saw his warm brown eyes, his hair and how his cheeks were dusted with a light pink.

“i’m so glad i found you,” he said, tracing his thumb across your jaw. “i don’t feel so blue anymore.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3

other fics

series taglist [OPEN] - @jiwoongsblondehair @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun @butterfliesinthesky @ismelllikechlorine247 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @forever-atiny @arki-sha

[inkchwe]

three men & a crib | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, comedy ୨୧ tags: established relationship, soontobedad!sunghoon, married!au, pregnant!reader. ୨୧ synopsis: Sunghoon is wasting time not building the furniture in the nursery, mainly the terrifyingly intricate crib his pregnant wife ordered. What else can he do besides call Jake and Jay to help him?

How did he end up in this situation? Sunghoon is staring down the cardboard box in his living room, armed with a handful of tools and an instruction manual that might as well have been written in an alien language.

“I can do it when I get home from the shower,” you told him two hours ago, pouting at the fact the crib still had yet to be constructed. The baby would be arriving in less than three months and there was still so much of the nursery that needed to be completed. The main piece being the place your child was meant to sleep.

Sunghoon shrugged off the idea. No way were you going to try building furniture when you should be focusing solely on relaxing. Your belly was too swollen at this point for Sunghoon to let you even carry in a heavy bag of groceries without assistance. What kind of husband would he be if he let you do manual labor in your condition?

“No, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead with reassurance. “I promise to finish it. Just focus on having fun today and when you get home it’ll all be done, you’ll see.”

With a sigh and a kiss to his lips, you were off with your mother to your baby shower. Heeseung’s wife Yunjin organized the entire day for you, and Sunghoon wouldn’t let something as simple as a piece of infant furniture get in the way of your good time.

But now, staring down the dismantled pieces of the crib, he’s starting to grow anxious at the thought of you coming home to his empty promises and utter disappointment. He reads over the first step of the instructions again, and the words practically bleed over and into each other on the page. Admittedly, Sunghoon was not well-versed in carpentry, but surely it shouldn’t be this hard to understand.

Whatever he has to do to figure it out, he won’t let you down. And he won’t look like an incompetent father because of some measly, complex instructions.

So, he does the next best thing he can: he calls in backup.

Jake and Jay sit next to Sunghoon on the living room floor, looking over the parts of the crib that they’ve agreed go together first and have to be constructed in the proper order. 

After forty-five minutes of assembly, the three men feel an acceptable amount of confidence they completed the crib.

Except for the fact there’s a random piece of wood sticking out in the center of the crib itself.

“I’m telling you the directions said that that was supposed to go there,” Jay insists, skimming the manual.

Sunghoon groans. “Tell me exactly Jay what the fuck that is supposed to do.” He emphasizes his argument by pointing directly at the block of wood in the middle of the crib.

“I don’t know, man, to keep the baby from moving?” Jay retorts.

“Okay, let’s just start over,” Jake says to both men, tired of their bickering already.

Just when the men think they’re getting somewhere, they read the next line of instructions and feel like idiots for putting this piece of wood with that screw.

“This might as well have been written in ancient Egyptian, man. Why did she have to buy the most annoying crib in existence?” Jay grumbles and flips through the manual again.

“She said it comes with a lot of safety features,” Sunghoon answers, taking apart the two pieces of wood that Jake put together initially. Sunghoon wishes he could go back in time and stop you from buying it in the first place. Of course he also wanted the best for your child, but did the damn bed need to come with so many bells and whistles for all of this hassle?

By the time Sunghoon dismantles the pieces and puts them back in an organized pile on the floor, Jake looks ready to give up and raid the fridge.

“We could just find the model online and order it assembled,” Jake suggests. A yawn leaves his lips, already fatigued at the minimal effort he put in.

“And say what to my wife?” Sunghoon asks with a scoff. “That I was too stupid to make it without help?”

Jay and Jake look at Sunghoon without a word, their stares saying enough.

“You know what I mean, assholes.” Sunghoon looks at the instructions over Jay’s shoulder again and grunts. “We are three strong and capable men. We can do this!”

Less than an hour later, Jake is on the manufacturer’s website. Thankfully, the model number was written in bold font on the front of the manual. And even better, crib assembly and one-day delivery is only an extra hundred dollars.

“I’ll name the next kid after you, man.” Sunghoon pats Jake on the back as the older one puts his card information into the order.

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to not spill the beans if your wife asks me about this.”

Jay chuckles and helps Sunghoon put the pieces of the original crib back in the cardboard packaging.

Three hours later, two delivery guys come up the elevator with the crib to bring into Sunghoon’s apartment. It fits with the rest of the nursery, the color of the wood matching well with the decorations you had already put up for the baby’s arrival.

You walk into the apartment later in the day to find Sunghoon sitting at the couch waiting for you. You smile at him and immediately snuggle in close to his chest.

“How was the shower?” Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head as his hand runs across the center of your stomach. His warmth immediately calms you after the long day of greeting family and friends.

“Fun, but a lot. By the third hour I was over talking about breastfeeding.”

Sunghoon chuckles and kisses your cheek. Even now, after four years of marriage and a baby on the way, he still managed to make you feel like the same lovesick teenager you were when you first met. The feeling sank deep into your bones and made you even more sure that you picked the right person to spend forever with.

“Thank you for putting the crib together,” you say. You squeeze the hand that’s on your stomach with your own. “We appreciate you so much.”

Sunghoon smiles earnestly and kisses you on the lips. “And I appreciate you. None of this would be possible without you, you know.”

You grin. “Likewise.”

When you wake in the middle of the night later on, waddling to the nursery and admiring the quality of the crib, you chuckle quietly to yourself.

Sunghoon was completely unaware of how cute he looked in the Ring camera helping the delivery guys bring in the assembled crib. He also had no idea that you had watched from the comfort of Heeseung’s couch as the gentlemen, with Jake and Jay in tow, all shuffled into the apartment hours ago with the second crib.

Maybe the biggest lesson of parenthood was that sometimes it was better to work smarter and not harder. And regardless, Sunghoon would do anything to make sure you and your child were happy. What more could you ask for?

[runariya]

Y(E)ARNED (JJK) • 1

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human seamstress!female reader genre: alien!AU, S2L, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: a lot of fluff, a little bit of lying, good natured 'manipulation', size difference, JK has tentacles, self-doubt, minor wound that needs to be stitched, mentions of bonding, doubt, again lying, kissing, smut (only superficial in this part), lmk if I forgot something pls word count: ~5.8k

a/n: part of the "Dice With Destiny" project by @thebtswritersclub and @creativepromptsforwriting | I just couldn't help but dice again 🫣 sry

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 2

You think you might settle here, let your restless stitching hands finally find their rhythm on this planet where the air is soft and the light through the windows of your little shop lands like golden thread across the floor. It feels right, this place, Euphonis—a world you once stumbled upon like a loose button in a drawer, an afterthought, but now it glows in your mind like the warm thrum of a needle through fabric. The shop is everything you’d imagined and more, dressed in rustic charm, the old wood floor beneath your feet creaking like a whispered conversation, a relict of the lives it has seen, the weight of Seraphenti footsteps heavier than your own feathery steps. No need for a bell at the door, no chime to herald each customer; the groan of the boards will sing their entry for you, a music of its own.

You’ve been a seamstress for as long as your memory stretches, threading your way through worlds in search of something like home, always with the same soft hope in your chest, the same search for people who need your craft. Zyntis and its inhabitants had seemed promising once—their tails awkward in standardised clothing that never quite fit—but your style had no place there, and so the doors of that shop closed, the dream dissolving before it could begin. And then, by some strange luck—or maybe fate—, you found yourself here, among the Seraphentis, creatures of ethereal beauty, their four tentacles making clothes ill-fitting and frustrating, begging for someone with your hands, your skill to fix what never quite sat right on their otherworldly forms.

And now you're here, here with your thread and your scissors, ready to stitch together lives just a little better, one custom piece at a time, easing the small burdens of misfit garments, making life smoother—seamless, you think with a soft smile.

Late in the afternoon, the shop is quiet, only the rhythmic whirr of your sewing machine filling the small room, your small fingers guiding the fabric beneath the needle with every beat of your heart. You're working on a dress for yourself, something soft and simple to soothe the days behind and look forward to the days ahead. The fabric is delicate, like a promise, and you're so absorbed in its flow that you don't hear the front door until the floor itself betrays the presence of another—footsteps, nearly silent but for the familiar creak beneath their weight.

You stop, hands stilling the machine as you lift your gaze and stand up without much thought, and there—there stands a Seraphenti in the middle of your shop, framed by the light like something out of a dream. Your breathing comes to a sudden stop, not for the first time, at the sheer beauty of these beings, but this one—this one is something else entirely. His face holds you, every line and curve more perfect than any sculpture, his dark eyes deep as midnight, lashes long and thick like the edge of a brush dipped in ink. His lips, rosy and gleaming, part slightly when he sees you—when he realises you are not what he expected, a human, let alone one as small as you, much shorter than any Seraphenti, standing before him in a tailor's shop meant for his species.

You feel his surprise, she him staring unsure at you, but you also feel his warmth, his curiosity. The corners of your eyes crinkle into a smile, the kind that stretches wide and genuine, your teeth flashing in welcome as you call out to him with your soft, cheery voice, "Hello, welcome! What can I do for you?"

It’s as if your words break a spell. He smiles back—radiant, confident in a way that catches you off guard for a second, though there’s a softness in his eyes that makes you feel at ease. He steps forward, his tall build filling the room, and you have to tilt your head back so far that you almost laugh from the sheer height of him.

"Hi," he says with a dialect, his voice rich and warm. "I was hoping to have my shirt customised… if that's possible?"

"Of course!" You can't help the excitement in your voice—he’s your first customer here on Euphonis, and that alone makes you practically beam. You gesture towards the small podium you’ve had specially made for your size, a donut-shaped stand meant to let you reach your taller clients with ease. „If you’d come with me, I just need to take your measurements."

He follows you, but pauses when his right foot lands on the podium, eyeing the contraption with a look of mild confusion before you giggle and explain, "Oh, the donut’s for me, not you. Just step into the middle."

Realisation dawns across his handsome face, and a high-pitched laugh escapes him, shaking his broad shoulders. He looks down at you, and suddenly you both burst into uncontrollable laughter, cracking up like it’s the funniest thing in the world. You hold your stomach as your side begins to ache, tears prickling at your eyes as you try to compose yourself.

"I'm sorry," he manages between laughs, wiping away tears as well. "It's just… brilliant."

"No, no need to apologise!" You smile, cheeks aching from the shared moment. "It's fine, really."

You both manage to calm down long enough for him to step into the circle, and you climb onto the podium behind him. Despite the elevation, he towers over you still, and the two of you exchange a look in the mirror—your heads tilted in different directions as if caught in some ridiculous dance move. The sight is too much; you both burst into laughter again, leaning on each other to stay upright, wheezing without restraint.

When all the laughter finally runs out of your systems, he straightens, offering you a playful smirk. „You know, I’ve always been one of the taller ones."

"Really?" You quip, pretending to be shocked. "I never would have guessed."

His eyes light up, the sparkle of amusement never leaving as he says, "I'm Jungkook, by the way."

"I'm ___," you reply, meeting his gaze in the mirror once more. "Nice to meet you, Jungkook. Now, let’s get those measurements, shall we?"

You begin your work, tape in hand, as you move around him, tracing the lines of his strong frame, marvelling at the way his body seems to have been carved by some masterful sculptor. Each muscle is defined, even beneath the fabric of his shirt, and you focus hard to keep your hands steady, to keep from letting your admiration spill over into something too obvious. Every so often, you catch him watching you in the mirror, a soft smile playing at his lips, his dark eyes warm and knowing as if reading your mind, though he says nothing—just lets you work.

When you reach his back, the challenge becomes clear—his tentacles rise at your approach, like a loom adjusting its threads to some unseen hand. They stand tall and tense, alert and protective, sensing your presence but unsure whether to trust. You reach out slowly, letting the back of your hand hover near them, allowing them to ‚sniff‘ you, in a way. Slowly, reluctantly, they relax, draping back down, though they remain distant, uninterested in interacting with you. You can’t help but feel a small pang of disappointment—Seraphenti tentacles are usually more curious, more playful—but Jungkook’s seem reserved, almost dismissive.

Still, you carry on, finishing the measurements with care, even as a quiet sadness lingers in your thoughts. "We’re done," you say, the words soft as you both step off and out of the podium, heading towards a dresser that you use as a counter, and jot down the remaining notes.

Jungkook hands you his shirt from a small backpack you hadn’t noticed before. “When can I pick it up?”

“Three days?” you suggest, hoping to give it the time and attention it deserves.

“That works for me,” he says with a nod, and you scribble the pickup date on a small slip of paper, passing it to him along with a smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say, handing him the receipt. “See you in three days.”

“Thank you, too, ___,” he says, his voice softer now, a touch of warmth lacing his words as he leaves your shop.

And just like that, the door closes behind him, leaving you alone again in the soft light of the afternoon, your heart fluttering silently in your chest.

Three days after your first encounter, Jungkook returns to your shop. The wooden floors creak softly beneath his weight as he steps inside, and despite knowing he’s coming, the sight of him still sends a ripple through you, as if the world itself bends gently towards him. He’s all smiles and easy charm, his presence large enough to fill the room but never overwhelming. You hand him his shirt with a small sense of pride fluttering in your chest, neatly wrapped in tissue paper and a cute little sticker holding its edges. You’ve sewn every stitch with care, crafted every seam with precision, and when he leaves with a grateful smile and a wave, you feel light as air, like you’ve woven a thread of connection to a customer that might just hold.

But the next week, he’s back. You hear the familiar creak of the floorboards and turn to see him holding the same shirt, this time with an apologetic frown lining his beautiful face. There’s a tear where you made your customisation, a delicate seam pulled apart. You feel a knot of dread form in your stomach, tightening until it’s nothing but uncomfortable. Your hands tremble slightly as you take the shirt from him, running your fingers along the damaged thread. You apologise profusely, cheeks burning with embarrassment, and promise to fix it at no charge. He reassures you—says it’s not a big deal, that things like this happen—but you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve failed him.

You spend the next few hours painstakingly re-stitching the seam, checking it over and over to ensure it holds. It’s perfect when you hand it back, and Jungkook thanks you warmly, that familiar smile returning to his face as he leaves. Still, something gnaws at you, a quiet voice at the back of your mind whispering doubts into your ear.

Then he returns again.

And again.

Each time with the same shirt, each time with a small tear, a rip where you’ve sewn. Your heart sinks deeper with every visit, each one like a tiny unravelling of the confidence you’d worked so hard to build. You start to dread the sound of the floor creaking beneath his feet, the sight of that perfect face marked with apology. Your hands shake when you work now, the thread slipping from your grasp more often than it used to, and the needle seems to prick your skin more than it should, small beads of red appearing where your focus falters.

By the time he comes back for the seventh time in three months, the weight of it all becomes too much. The sight of him walking through the door feels like a final thread snapping, the tension that’s been building in your chest pulling so tight that it finally breaks in two. You’ve tried your best, given it everything, and still, you’re failing miserably—still, your work isn’t enough. You can feel the tears already welling in your eyes before you even greet him.

The door shuts behind him with that same familiar groan of wood against wood, and you’re already pulling the apron from your waist, the knot in your stomach so tight it hurts.

“Jungkook,” you say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to keep it steady. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He pauses, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes a step closer, holding the shirt loose in his hand by his side. “What? ___, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, the words coming out before you can stop them, tumbling over one another like loose yarn spilling from a spool. “I don’t know why it keeps happening. Every time I fix it, it just—breaks again. I don’t understand. I’ve never had this problem before. Maybe my work isn’t… maybe I’m not…” You trail off, tears slipping down your cheeks now, your hands shaking as you press them to your face, trying to hide the wave of emotion washing over you. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Jungkook’s face falls, and suddenly he’s in front of you, his free hand hovering just above yours as if unsure whether he should touch you or not. “___, no, please don’t say that. It’s not—”

“I can’t keep doing this,” you continue as your hands fall limply to your sides, your voice breaking as you choke out the words. “Every time you come back, it feels like I’ve failed. I don’t know why the thread keeps breaking, why I can’t make it work. It’s like every time I stitch it together, something inside me frays even more, and I just… I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic, and he quickly closes the distance between you, reaching out to gently take your miniature hand in his big one. His touch is warm, his fingers curling around yours with a softness that paralyses you momentarily. “No, no, it’s not you. ___, it’s not your work. Your stitching is perfect. It’s me—” He stops, inhaling deeply, his eyes darting around the shop for a moment as if he’s gathering the courage to say something. Then he lets out a burdened breath, looking back at you with a pained expression. “I did it. I—I damaged the shirt on purpose.”

You blink up at him, confusion furrowing your brow. “What?”

“I damaged it on purpose,” he repeats, his voice low and apologetic, like a child confessing a misdeed. “I—I just… I wanted to keep seeing you.”

You think you might faint, your mind struggling to process his words. “You… you tore the shirt… on purpose?”

Jungkook nods, his face and ears burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. I just—after the first time, when I saw how careful you were, how much you cared, I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I didn’t know how else to see you again, so I—” He gestures helplessly to the shirt in his hand, offering it to you like if it were the culprit, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I kept damaging it. A little more each time, just so I’d have an excuse to come back.”

You stare up at him, unblinking, wondering if you imagined his confidence or not. But still, there are equal parts disbelief and something else that settles within you—something that feels strangely like relief, like the loosening of a knot that’s been pulling tight for months. The silence between you stretches, Jungkook’s nerves flaring, as your mind is still trying to catch up with everything he’s just said.

“Why?” you finally manage to ask, your voice small, barely more than a whisper.

Jungkook meets your eyes, his expression softening as he takes a deep breath. “Because… I like you,” he admits, the words tumbling out like they’ve been waiting too long to be spoken. “I liked you from the moment I walked in here the first time. I didn’t know how to ask you out. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, or that you’d think I was ridiculous, so I—well, I made up reasons to keep coming back. To keep seeing you. But it’s not because you’re not good at your job—you’re amazing at it,___. It’s because I didn’t want to stop seeing you.”

His confession washes over you like a warm shower after a long exhausting day, the self-doubt that had been festering inside you slowly dissolving under the gentle flutter of his words. You take a breath, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks as you search his face, looking for any sign that this might be some kind of joke or misunderstanding—but all you see is sincerity, and a nervous kind of hope.

“I…” You falter, still trying to wrap your mind around everything, but there’s a warmth blooming in your chest now, a quiet happiness that wasn’t there since Jungkook came back with the damaged shirt. You look down at your hands, still held gently in his, and let out a small, breathless laugh. “You tore your shirt… just to see me?”

Jungkook nods, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Pretty stupid, right?”

A laugh escapes you, soft but genuine, the tension in your chest finally releasing. “Maybe a little,” you admit, looking up at him with a small, flirty smile of your own. “But… kind of sweet, too.”

His eyes brighten at that, relief flooding his expression as he squeezes your hands gently. “I’m sorry, though. I should’ve just… told you. I didn’t mean to make you doubt yourself.”

You shake your head, wiping away the last of your tears. “It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t great thinking I was losing my touch, but… I guess I can’t be too upset. Not now that I know why.”

The two of you just stand there for a moment, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt. It’s strange, how quickly everything has shifted—how the world has gone from tipping over to balancing out again in a way you hadn’t expected. You take a breath, feeling a soft warmth settle in your chest as you meet Jungkook’s eyes once more.

“So… what now?” you take a breath to shush the shyness away, feeling a soft warmth settle in your chest as you meet Jungkook’s eyes once more.

Jungkook’s smile widens, his beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners as he gently tugs you a little closer. “Well, for starters, I’ll stop tearing my clothes on purpose,” he laughs quietly. “And maybe… we could try seeing each other outside of the shop? If you’re interested, that is.”

Your small heart skips a beat at his offer, and for the first time in months, the doubt inside you is nowhere to be found. You nod, a beaming smile on your face as you look up at him. “Yeah,” you say softly, “I think I’d like that.”

And just like that, you love story with Jungkook begins.

It's been months since you and Jungkook started seeing each other. Since that day he walked into your shop with his torn shirt, a thread of connection was spun between you, and what started as something delicate, tentative—like a stitch holding two fragile fabrics together—soon grew into something much stronger, blossoming from strangers to friends, to finally, without much fanfare, to a couple. You’ve gone from quiet cups of coffee shared in the mornings, the smell of roasted beans lacing the air between you, to nights spent curled up together on his sofa, the noise of the world fading away, leaving just the warmth and quiet intimacy of kisses. You’ve woven yourselves securely into each other’s lives, slowly, stitch by stitch, until the fabric of your days has become so interwoven that it’s hard to remember what life was like before the other.

There’s an ease to your relationship now, a rhythm you’ve both fallen into—domestic moments that feel as familiar and comforting as the soft creak of old wood beneath your feet in the shop. You cook together, hands brushing as you pass ingredients back and forth, Jungkook’s arms sneaking around your waist to tease you, pulling you closer just for the joy of feeling your body near his. You help each other with mundane tasks—he rearranges your bolts of fabric while you pin a garment to a mannequin, and in turn, you fold his laundry as he hums some quiet melody under his breath.

But not everything in this tapestry is perfect. There are pulls, tangles in the threads that remind you of the things you can’t control—the Seraphenti tentacles that constantly test for bonds, seeking to see if they align with others, exploring compatibility in ways that no words could, to merge together and never be able to part again. You’ve learned this since the beginning, understanding that his tentacles are almost their own beings, extensions of him yet with wills of their own. It’s natural for them, simply biology, to seek connections, to sniff and sense, and while you try to remind yourself that this is simply part of who he is, it doesn’t stop the sharp tug of fear when you see those tentacles reach for someone else, when they can’t seem to even recognise your presence. It made you feel a little nervous but had never truly been an issue in your relationship—until now.

You are standing in line at a fast food stall, a simple joy, the scent of fried food and warm spices lingering in the air, when everything you silently feared catches up with you, when the sky above is bruised with twilight, such as your soul soon will be. 

It starts as one of those easy moments that feels like the perfect stitch at the end of a long day—a moment of peace, of completion. But then, a female Seraphenti joins the line next to your stall, her silvery skin catching the fading light like a needle glinting in the sun.

You feel the change in Jungkook before you even see it. His body tenses, his movements growing hesitant. You look up and see his tentacles rising slowly, drawn towards hers as though pulled by an invisible thread. Your heart skips a beat, then begins to unravel, that quiet sense of peace fraying as you watch his tentacles move closer towards hers with instinctive curiosity. They hover between them like two stray threads, exploring, seeking a bond, and your chest tightens, painfully so. You try to swallow the bitter knot of jealousy that forms in your throat, but it just can’t go down, too raw, too sharp.

Jungkook’s face pales beside you, and you can see the silent dread and panic in his eyes. He glances at you briefly, as if to reassure you, but it does nothing when his eyes tell. You stand there, frozen, the world around you tilting again, as your eyes focus solely on the quiet, delicate dance of their tentacles. They move closer and closer, testing, curious. And the worst part is that this isn’t some conscious decision of his—this is simply biology, a force stronger than either of you. But knowing that doesn’t stop your heart from sinking like a stone in a bottomless well.

Time seems to stretch and elongate like a spool of thread unwinding too quickly, and the tension becomes unbearable for you. The female Seraphenti seems uninterested in anything but the exploration of the menu ahead, her tentacles floating lazily in the air, waiting for the connection to either solidify or break apart. Jungkook watches with a grieving expression, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, but then, with a sudden, vicious snap, his tentacles attack hers, which recoil with equal ferocity, as Jungkook lets a breath of pure relief escape his body.

There’s a soft gasp from the crowd around you, eyes drawn But it’s short-lived, as the gasps of the crowd around you is heard, Jungkook winces, and you notice immediately that one of his tentacles is curling back toward him, wounded. You’re at his side before you even think, your hands brushing against his arm as you whisper, “Let’s go home.”

He nods, his face still pale, and together you leave the stall behind, walking in absolute silence. His injured tentacle hangs limply, the fabric of your connection feeling threadbare, frayed by what just happened. You can feel it—both the physical pain in him and the emotional sting in yourself, the wound of knowing that his tentacles sought something with another, even if it didn’t take root.

Back at his flat, the quiet is almost suffocating you as Jungkook glances at you with eyes filled with relief, shame, and something you can’t quite place. He sinks onto the sofa, his movements defeated, and you immediately fetch the small first aid kit from his bathroom. And still, Jungkook only watches you in silence as you kneel beside him, your hands gentle as you begin to clean the small cut on his tentacle. There’s a strange sort of comfort in this—tending to him, mending the damage like patching a torn garment. But underneath it all, there’s a sadness that you can’t shake, something threatening to break everything fully.

You move carefully, your fingers working with the same precision you use when sewing—steady, practised, almost automatic. His tentacles, usually so independent, seem to allow your touch this time, curling slightly but not retreating. You feel their warmth under your fingers, the living pulse of them, and for the first time, they seem to recognise your presence not as something to ignore or push away, but as something to co-exist, if only just.

As you prepare the needle to stitch the small tear, you try to lighten the mood, though the weight of earlier still hangs between you both. You glance up at him with a faint smile and joke, “I’m sorry I’m missing the nurse outfit. Would’ve made this whole thing more convincing, don’t you think?”

Jungkook looks down at you, his confusion evident. “A nurse outfit?”

You laugh softly, though the sound is fragile like your nerves, thin like thread worn from overuse. “Yeah, you know. Nurses—like the assistants to doctors. They take care of people when they’re hurt. Stitch them up, give them medicine, that sort of thing.”

He frowns slightly, thinking it over. “Like a healer’s apprentice?”

You nod, threading the needle carefully, the familiar rhythm of sewing calming your nerves slightly. “Sort of. They don’t do the magic or the rituals, but they do everything else. They’re the ones who actually keep people alive most of the time.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile, though there’s still a lingering sadness in his eyes. “You’d make a good nurse,” he says quietly. “Or a healer’s apprentice.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’ll stick to tailoring for now. But thanks.”

The silence that follows again is filled with unsaid words and emotions. You finish stitching the wound, tying off the thread with careful fingers, but as you do, the lingering ache in your chest only grows sharper, the tentacles again retreating from you in an instant. You place the needle aside and sit back on your heels, exhaling slowly as you try to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers suddenly, his voice full of sorrow. “I hate that this happened. I hate that you had to see it.”

You glance up at him, and the raw sincerity in his eyes makes your heart twist painfully. “It’s not your fault,” you whisper back, afraid that if you speak any louder, it might shatter you whole. “I know it’s just… how things are. But that doesn’t make it any easier.” You lower your gaze, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes. “It’s hard not to feel like… one day, your tentacles are going to decide I’m not good enough. That there’s someone else out there who fits you better.”

Jungkook’s expression saddens even more, and he reaches out, his hand finding yours, even if it’s the only thing searching for you. His fingers are warm and big, as he squeezes your hand tenderly. “It doesn’t work like that,” he says softly, though you know its a lie. “They don’t decide everything. They’re curious, yes. But they’re not the ones who get to choose who I love.”

You know he’s lying, you know he’s only trying to mend what’s broken. “But what if they do? What if one day, they find someone else and—”

“I’ll fight them,” Jungkook interrupts, his voice resolute. He looks at you with such conviction, such certainty, that for a moment, you almost believe him entirely. “If they ever try to pull me away from you, I’ll fight them. Because I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

His words hang between you, like the final knot that holds the end of a stitch secure, binding it in place so it won’t come undone. And though there’s still doubt lingering in your heart, there’s also a quiet hope you want to follow blindly.

You manage a small smile, though your voice trembles slightly when you speak. “I hope that’s true,” you whisper, now lying to yourself as well. “Because I want you too. More than anything.”

Jungkook leans closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin like the brush of soft fabric. “It is true,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I promise.”

Jungkook then kisses you slowly, tenderly, like he has so many times before, but now there’s a sadness, a longing beneath it. You can feel it in the way his lips move against yours, the way his breath is restricted, the way his touch lingers longer than usual. It’s in the soft pull of his mouth, the way his fingers hold you like he’s afraid you might slip away. His fear, his desperation—they seep into the kiss, bitter, and you taste it with every breath, every trembling press of lips.

He pulls you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you instinctively, holding you close, as if your bodies can protect each other from the truth untold. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair—soft, silken strands flowing between your fingers. His hands glide up from your thighs, tracing your spine, pressing you closer as they move higher, over your back, until they reach your neck, cradling it with a touch that is both tender and desperate. He holds you like you’re the last solid thing he can grasp in a world that’s threatening to crumble.

The kiss deepens, turning heated as the desperation between you grows. Your fear mirrors his, gnawing worry that clings to your being, tightening in your throat. You can’t stop thinking about the possibility of losing him—of waking up one morning, still wrapped in his arms, only to have him slip away from you without warning some hours later, taken by a bond you have no control over. The thought haunts you, lingers in your mind as your kiss becomes more frantic, more painful. It’s like you’re both trying to escape the fear, but the harder you cling to each other, the closer it seems to get.

Jungkook lifts your small form effortlessly, carrying you to his bedroom without breaking the kiss, his steps hurried, like he’s trying to outrun something. When you finally reach the bed, your hands are on him, frantically pulling at his clothes with shaking hands as he pulls at yours, both of you desperate to strip away the layers separating your skin. You kiss him harder, desperate to forget, to lose yourself in him, to forget the race against the clock that neither of you wants to see.

You can barely savour this moment, the moment that should have meant everything, that moment when you finally allowed your bodies to connect in the only way possible. You don’t even stop to take in the sight of him—the way his body is revealed to you, inch by inch, until he stands before you completely bare. You don’t take the time to marvel at his beauty, the strength of him, the way he seems to tower over you with his sheer size. All you can think about is the sadness, the dark cloud that lingers over this moment, threatening to suffocate any joy you might have felt. You barely even register the difference between your bodies when he finally presses into you—his size, the way your body stretches around him, the sharp sting of pain that follows. It’s all distant, muffled, like you’re watching it happen to someone else, detached and numb.

But Jungkook’s eyes, they’re wide, filled with sorrow and longing, and his voice breaks as he whispers, over and over, a chant of reassurance that he’s trying so hard to believe. “I love you. I love you. I’m never letting you go.” He repeats it like a mantra, as if saying it enough times will make it true, will make the fear disappear.

But the words only echo between the slap of flesh, but you can’t find the strength to respond. You want to—want to tell him you love him too, that you’ll never leave, that you’ll fight for this with everything you have—but the cloud has taken hold, and the words stick in your throat, unable to escape. Instead, you stay silent, letting his words fill the space between you, hoping they’re enough for both of you, even as doubt and sadness weigh heavy on your chest.

And when you both reach that moment of release, it feels hollow—beautiful on the surface, but fragile beneath. The euphoria that should have filled you instead leaves you feeling emptier than before, breaking your heart even more. You lay there with him, tangled in the sheets, your bodies pressed together, but it’s as though a chasm has opened up between you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t how you imagined your first time with him, how you thought your love would feel.

Instead, all you’re left with is the silence that follows and more tears in your eyes than you can hold back. You wonder if this is your new reality—living each day with the constant worry that he might be taken from you. You wonder if the love between you might not be enough to keep you together in the end. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at him again without that pang of uncertainty and sadness.

You wonder…

masterlist • 2

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[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Six

For @erisweekofficial Day 6: AU

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Severely wounded after the fall of his father, Eris slips into a deep sleep, only to wake in an alternate world—one where he was the kind brother, the male who made all the 'right' choices.

Warnings: mentions of death, physical fighting, confused Eris

Word Count: 4.6k

Part Five | Part Seven

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Eris woke slowly, the weight of sleep pressing against his mind like a fog. He swore he heard someone say his name, faint and distant, but when he blinked away the residue of slumber, the room around him was empty. He sat up, hand instinctively drifting to his abdomen, where his injury had been. Flashes of the fight flickered in his mind—his fathers face, the clash of metal, his mother's final strike.

There was no sign of any injury. He was healed now. Strangely skinny and paler than usual, but healed.

He looked around, the familiar walls of his quarters greeting him. It was his room—his bed, his furniture—but something was missing. Everything felt stripped down, too clean. Too empty. His room had always been a reflection of him, a collage of things that mattered, memories and symbols of what he held dear. But now… it was bare. 

Not even his couch held traces of life, no lingering hairs of his hounds.

They must’ve already moved my things, Eris told himself, a strange tightness settling in his chest. They must’ve moved everything to my father’s quarters. The thought lingered, and he found himself repeating it. How strange. They must be very eager.

Slowly, Eris sat up, the silence around him thick and unnatural. There was no sound, not even the faint stir of wind or the hum of life that usually filled the Forest House. He ignored how foreign his own room felt, how cold, and pulled himself out of bed, his bare feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. He managed to dress himself with the clothes remaining in his closet before he left the confines of his quarters. 

The hallways felt more familiar, the same twists and turns of the Forest House that were ingrained in him, walls that he knew like the back of his hand.

Yet, despite how normal it seemed, there was something unsettling about it now. It felt quieter, colder. Less alive. He did his best to ignore it.

Eris attributed his confusion to recent events. It’s just exhaustion, he told himself. Confusion from healing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, how long his body needed to recover from the battle, from his father’s fall. It was expected for things to feel a little off. He was, after all, the new High Lord. His plan had been successful. Perhaps it was the weight of that new title, the surge of power, that made everything feel so alien.

But Eris didn't feel any power. In fact, he felt weaker. As if something was missing, something important. It confused him, unnerved him, as he wandered through the halls of his home.

There should be more people. The fall of his father should’ve left chaos in its wake—advisors, soldiers, someone should have been there, waiting for him to awaken, waiting for their new High Lord to take his place.

But the halls were silent. Lifeless.

Eris froze mid-step. He frowned to himself, feeling a deep discomfort settling in his bones. Slowly, he took a few steps back and glanced over his shoulder.

The door to his right was slightly ajar, just enough for a thin beam of dim light to spill into the hallway. His instincts screamed at him to move forward. He hesitated, blinking, and then reached out, pushing the door open just a fraction more.

Inside, the room was bathed in the same cold light that seemed to haunt the entire hall. A figure sat on the edge of the bed, back turned to him, hunched over like they were trying to make themselves small. Their hair, a dull blonde, hung limp, the ends unevenly chopped short. The person’s posture was frail, broken. But Eris’s sharp senses picked up something that made his breath catch in his throat—a scent he knew. A scent that tugged at memories of hatred and understanding all at once.

“Morrigan?”

The figure flinched, shoulders trembling, but didn’t turn. Eris stepped into the room, his heart pounding as he slowly pieced together what he was seeing. The hair was dull, yes, but unmistakable. He knew her. He was certain.

“Morrigan," he said again, a tinge of frustration tainting his tone. "Why are you here?”

She didn’t respond. Her body barely moved, as though she was too afraid to even breathe.

"Mor."

Finally, she turned her head, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her face—pale, hollow, and so different from the annoyingly outspoken, frustratingly arrogant female he knew. Her eyes darted to the floor, avoiding his gaze as though she couldn't bear to meet it.

“Eris,” she whispered, the words so soft they almost didn’t reach him. “You need to leave.”

“What?” His voice was growing louder now, confusion bleeding into anger. He took a moment to analyze her, to observe her with a critical gaze. Her skin was marked, marred by bruises and scars.

“What happened? Did I—” He faltered, his breath catching. “Did I do this to you?”

It wasn't possible. Eris would never have touched her. He had never laid a finger on her, didn't care enough to. Words were enough of a weapon when it came to the loud-mouthed female. But this world was familiar, cold, and he wasn't sure what he believed, who he was here.

Morrigan shook her head, but her eyes were full of something darker, more resigned. “He’s coming. You need to leave.”

“Who’s coming?” Eris took a step forward. “Morrigan, tell me what is going on.”

"Please." She gave him a long, haunted look. “You should have left me to die, Eris. You can’t help me anymore.”

Before he could register her words, the door creaked open again and Eris turned sharply. He recognized the new presence instantly, watched with furrowed brows as one of his younger brothers walked in. Caius was larger, more muscular than Eris remembered, and there was a gleam in his eyes that was nothing short of mad. It wasn't just cruelty. It was something darker, something even more sinister.

“Well, well,” Caius sneered, stepping into the room. His gaze slid toward  Morrigan, a smirk curling his lips. “Looks like you’ve finally grown a spine, brother. Decided you wanted her after all?”

Eris stiffened, straightening himself as he held his brother's gaze. He walked around Eris, approached Morrigan in a few, long strides. Eris could see her visibly shrink back, watched as her face paled with fear. The sight in itself was terrifying—the image of this female, who feared not even death, now trembling before his brother. It was wrong, so wrong, and made Eris more uneasy than the cold, lifeless walls.

"Step away from her," Eris said, "Now."

His brother laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that echoed in the room. "Always the protector, always so noble."

While Eris had a complicated relationship with his brothers, they all respected him. Listened to him. He had raised them, taught them, kept them in line so their father wouldn’t have to. They had never spoken to him with this kind of defiance. They never would.

Eris clenched his jaw, eyes flashing as he took a step forward, attempting to place himself between his brother and Morrigan.

"You’re out of line," Eris growled, his voice dropping to a lethal quiet. "Move."

For a brief moment, something flickered in Caius’s eyes—hesitation, perhaps, or uncertainty. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same mocking smile. His brother didn’t care about the warning; he was testing him. Caius took another step toward Morrigan, his hand stretching out as if to touch her. Morrigan flinched, though her wide, desperate eyes remained fixed on Eris, pleading silently.

“What are you going to do, brother?” Caius’s tone dripped with disdain. “Finally act like a male? Finally take what’s yours?”

Before Caius could move any closer, Eris’s hand shot out, grabbing his brother by the arm and yanking him back with a force that startled them both. Surprise flared in Caius’s eyes, but Eris didn’t give him a chance to recover. His grip tightened, and in a swift, violent motion, he shoved Caius away from Morrigan, slamming him against the wall with a fury that belonged to an eldest brother, to a rightful heir. The crack of Caius’s back hitting stone was the only sound as the room seemed to hold its breath.

"You forget your place," Eris growled, his grip tightening. His brother winced, the smirk faltering. "And I won’t remind you again."

With a grunt, Caius tried to wrench his arm free, but Eris’s grip was unyielding. The younger male’s eyes flickered with something new—fear. Real fear.

Eris shoved him again, watching as Caius staggered back, shock flashing across his features. He wasn’t used to being challenged, certainly not by Eris. When he made a move to retaliate, Eris advanced once more, this time with more force, shoving him until he crashed against the wall with a heavy thud.

Caius had always been more temperamental, more prone to lashing out. Eris had learned early on that the only way to keep him in line was to meet his aggression with equal force, to show his brother that he could be beaten. That he was outmatched. It was always for his own good. If Eris didn’t correct him, Beron would. And he would be a lot less gentle. 

"You show me some respect," Eris spat, stepping back as his brother slumped to the floor, dazed. He turned to Morrigan.

She was staring at him, wide-eyed, stiff.

“Will you be alright?” Eris asked, his voice softer now, the edge of fury fading into something like concern. He’d never spoken to Morrigan in such a way, had never imagined himself asking her anything that hinted at care. Yet here he was. It made him uncomfortable.

That alone was enough to confirm this wasn’t real. That it was a dream—despite the throbbing in his knuckles telling him otherwise.

Morrigan only nodded.

“Alright,” he said, more to himself than to her. With one last glance at his brother, who lay slumped and breathing heavily, Eris turned and walked out of the room, leaving Caius on the floor and Morrigan standing frozen near the bed.

He needed answers. And he needed them now.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The more Eris thought about it, the more the halls of the Forest House felt different, unfamiliar. The once gleaming floors were dulled, the banners sagging as if weighed down by years of neglect. Figures passed him, and where there should have been respect, there was now disregard—intentional and palpable. Bodies brushed against him with force—someone’s elbow grazed his side, a boot came down hard on his own, followed by a mocking laugh that echoed behind.

"Thought you'd be taller," one courtier muttered as he shoved past.

Another voice cut through the air, louder, full of sneering confidence. "And they say eldest is to be the rightful heir?" A chuckle. "Pathetic."

Eris said nothing, his gaze fixed forward as the crowd parted only to provoke. The warmth beneath his skin, the heat that was always there, simmered just out of sight. He pushed it down, keeping his pace steady, even though each shove pushed against the restraint he'd built over years.

The familiar door to his father’s office appeared. It was open, an unusual sight in itself. His steps slowed as he approached, his brow drawing tight. Inside, slouched behind the large desk, was Beron Vanserra.

Eris stopped.

That wasn't possible. 

Beron was dead. He’d watched him fall, had seen the life drain from his father’s eyes as his mother plunged the blade deeper into his back. He’d stared into the soulless face of his father as his body collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

But there he was.

And yet, Beron looked nothing like the man Eris remembered. No, he looked worse than disheveled—he looked unhinged. The sinister gleam in his eyes had intensified, a wild, deranged look that made Eris pause. His father’s movements were sharp, erratic, like he’d lost any grip on control. The man murmured frantically to his advisor, Darius, the conversation laced with dark, twisted energy. This wasn’t the calculated cruelty Eris remembered; it was something more dangerous, something untethered. Even from the doorway, Eris could feel it—a tangible threat, his father teetering on the edge of madness.

He hunched over papers, speaking in low, frantic murmurs. It was hard for Eris to reconcile the image before him with the male he'd known— the male he had killed. Beron’s hands shook as he scrawled something, his voice barely audible.

“They’re closing in,” Beron muttered, eyes darting across the room though there was no one but his advisor present. “They're turning against us.”

Eris stood frozen in the doorway, his heart tightening at the names his father began to list—alliances, powerful connections Beron claimed were unraveling. But Eris had secured those ties himself. He knew they were strong, unbreakable. Every alliance, every bond he had forged was solid. He had ensured it.

But his father’s disjointed ramblings painted a different picture.

Something else gnawed at the edges of Eris's awareness. Darius—the way he moved, the flicker in his expression when Beron's back was turned—it all reeked of suspicion. There was a wariness in his advisor’s manner, a subtle but calculated hesitation in the way he responded to Beron's frantic mutterings, as if he were biding his time, waiting for the right moment to act.

He was a traitor, Eris concluded. He wondered how his father hadn't noticed.

A nagging voice in the back of Eris’s mind urged him to leave, to run and find you. But he stayed, forcing himself to assess the scene before making any move. Whatever was happening here, he needed to understand it first. Deep in his gut, he had a feeling that Darius would lead him to some answers.

So he waited.

And waited.

Until Darius finally left the room.

For a fleeting moment, Eris was grateful that this strange version of himself, in this twisted place, could blend in without notice. It grated on him more than he cared to admit, but even he could acknowledge that it was a blessing under these circumstances.

He had to remind himself over and over that this wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. Because in reality, he had defeated his father. He had fought, been wounded, and his mother had delivered the final, fatal blow. Their plan—his centuries-long scheme—had worked. Beron was dead.

So, no, this wasn’t real.

It couldn't be. 

It was just some hallucination brought on by his injuries. Yet the vividness of it all was disorienting. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this strange world had a purpose, a meaning, something that he needed to understand.

Gods, Eris hated deeper meanings, hated the idea of hidden lessons and cryptic truths. Which was funny, considering that’s exactly what he was—someone who required time, patience, and layers to be understood. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Darius finally reached an exit, pushing through heavy doors that led outside. Eris followed.

He watched as Darius mounted a horse, the male glancing around, taking a moment to ensure no one was following. The sky above was oppressive, gray, and bleak. Even the colors of Autumn—once vibrant and alive—seemed muted, as if drained of life itself.

Eris waited, stayed hidden until Darius's figure was far enough away, until the rhythmic clatter of hooves gradually faded. Only then did Eris step into the open. He took a deep breath, letting the crisp, stale air fill his lungs, and winnowed, the world bending around him as he tracked Darius's path through the shifting air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

He found himself at a residence, a few miles out from the heart of Autumn, an hour on horse-back from the Forest House.

It was a home of surprising elegance, far more refined than the modest quarters Darius had occupied in Eris's memories. For a moment, Eris lingered in the distance, nestled among the fallen leaves like a predator concealed in its natural habitat.

Darius glanced around one last time, his eyes scanning for any signs of pursuit, before walking to the front door. It opened as he approached and, for a moment, time seemed to stretch, every detail becoming sharp and vivid.

It was you.

Eris’s gut twisted as he watched you open the door wider, allowing Darius to step inside. The male grasped your face between his hands, his grip tight, eyes glinting with possessive satisfaction. A moment later, he released you, offering a dismissive wave toward the horse outside. A movement that indicated you were to tend to it. 

A command. 

Eris waited, expecting your usual defiance—the fire he admired so fiercely, the fire that rivaled his own. But you didn’t fight back. You only stood there, nodding in quiet compliance before moving toward the horse with a resigned grace.

Eris almost felt sick.

This world, this twisted reflection of reality, had ensnared you. Eris found himself paralyzed– paralyzed by his situation, by confusion and anger. What had happened to you in this strange, distorted reality?

What had happened to him?

He waited until you were absorbed in tending to the horse, until you had led it to its resting place, before he winnowed, pulling you away into a secluded strip of the forest. The second you were out of sight, you yanked yourself from his grip, your eyes flashing with a fire that made his breath catch.

Eris wasn't quite sure what he expected, what reaction to prepare for.

It certainly wasn't the sharp punch to his jaw that he received.

Before he could even register the pain, you were on him, a whirlwind of strikes and kicks, each one more vicious than the last. It was a relentless assault, far beyond what Eris had ever seen from you. For a brief moment, Eris felt a flicker of pride—impressed at the ferocity, at your precision.

But that pride quickly gave way to frustration as your fist connected with his face again, harder this time. He let out a grunt, finally managing to shove you back, flames licking his hands as he raised them defensively. You staggered, your expression shifting from fury to confusion as you blinked and truly saw him for the first time.

“Eris?” 

He almost smiled at the sound of his name on your lips. But he bit it back, focusing instead on catching his breath, trying to piece together the fragmented reality he found himself in.

“Where was that defiance with…” he began, but his words faltered as his gaze fell on your hand. To the ring on your finger. “… your husband?”

You straightened yourself, brushing off the dirt and leaves with a practiced grace. Eris took you in, still breathtakingly beautiful, and for a moment, he felt a surge of relief, the first since he’d woken up in this bewildering place. But the relief was tinged with unease; you were different—colder, stiffer, your demeanor as unyielding as the harsh winter.

“What are you doing here?”

Your voice was sharp, emotionless. It carried the same weight as his fathers, the same madness as his brother.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But—” Eris began.

You cut him off. “But what? This is not your land. Leave.”

Eris clenched his teeth, forcing himself to steady his breath. 

“No, Y/n, you don’t understand,” he said, reaching out instinctively to grab your arm. The gesture was absentminded, a reflex born of countless moments spent in your presence. But you yanked away, your eyes glazing over with disgust.

Every muscle in Eris’s body tightened at the sight.

Over the centuries, Eris had seen you look at him with many things, seen you look at him in many ways. There had been anger, fear, resentment, frustration— but never disgust. Not like this. He wasn’t sure he ever saw true hatred either.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, those cold eyes narrowing in on him.

A crease formed between Eris’s brows. He thought back to the ball—just a few hours ago in his memory. He scrambled to recall the image of you, one hand in yours, the other on your waist, as he danced with you. You’d told him you didn’t hate him. You’d seemed concerned, understanding.

You'd rushed to his side when he fell.

Those memories didn't match the female before him. The look in your eyes, this version of you, it was void of all the life he loved in you.

Loved.

Your face pinched into a deadly frustration. He could see the anger practically radiating off you in waves. The Y/n he knew was impatient, yes, entertainingly so, but the female before him— it was more than impatience. It was intolerance, unforgiving.

And you weren't unforgiving.

"What is wrong with you?” Eris's voice was quiet, contemplative.

He wasn’t sure if he was genuinely asking you the question or if it had slipped from his lips as a stream of consciousness. This was all wrong. How had he ended up here?

How could he leave?

“With me?” you echoed. “I’m aware you’ve harbored a pathetic crush on me but your title alone does not grant you the right to prowl through the forest like a fire-wreathed pervert.”

Eris blinked. Then he blinked again. "Excuse me?"

Your stare hardened. You casted another glance towards the home, towards the residence that you belonged to. "I will let Darius skin you himself if you don't leave."

Eris cocked his head at you. "Darius will do no such thing."

"And you are so confident?"

"Yes," he said through a sharp breath. "I am."

You let out a deep breath. He watched as your gaze danced over his form, as you took him in as he had done with you a few moments prior.

"You will leave, Eris. You don't belong here."

“No," Eris hummed. "I don’t believe I will."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “Is this you gaining a backbone, then? Standing up now?”

His eyes widened, face falling slack as his mind raced.

Suddenly, the similarity in your words struck him—words so akin to what his brother had said, to what Morrigan had implied. He paused, a chilling realization settling in.

He had often wondered how different his life might have been had he embraced kindness openly. His mother had been kind—strong, yes, but kind above all. Her kindness sometimes led her to act recklessly, driven by love, putting herself in dangerous positions. Eris’s own coldness had started as a means of self-protection, a shield forged to guard both himself and her. Autumn had never embraced kindness; it was twisted and manipulated, seen as a vulnerability to be exploited. The court’s harsh lessons had taught him that kindness could be turned against one, molded into a weapon of control.

Eris knew he wasn't as compassionate as others, understood that his empathy fell short in ways where it excelled for those around him. Lucien was warmer, his mother had a depth of love that Eris could never match. Yet, he had come to terms with himself. He wasn't ashamed of who he had become. Not anymore.

He had adapted to survive, and in doing so, had ensured the survival of others. He’d shielded his mother, manipulated circumstances to protect his brothers, and wielded influence to carve out a place for himself in the world.

Eris’s gaze locked onto you, his voice low and urgent.

“I need your help.”

"No."

“Please,” he implored, the edge of desperation creeping into his voice.

Usually, that would have worked. But not now.

“No," You snarled. "Leave. This is your last warning.”

Eris’s eyes narrowed. "I can make you listen.”

“Then do it,” you challenged. “Why haven’t you?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he ran through his options. “Perhaps I’m being kind.”

You laughed bitterly. “And where has kindness led your family?”

Eris froze. Something cold ran up his spine, something uncomfortable shivering through his skin.

"What does that mean?"

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The silence around him hung heavy and suffocating.

The graves before him were smaller than he’d expected, though not lacking in elegance.

Each stone was meticulously carved from dark granite, their surfaces polished to a somber sheen. Lucien’s grave was engraved with intricate ivy vines, their tendrils curling around the stone like an embrace, while his mother's was adorned with a design of autumn leaves, their veins detailed in delicate relief.

In the center of the clearing stood a statue of The Mother, her arms outstretched in an eternal gesture of welcome or release. The marble was pristine against the surrounding decay, though the base was cloaked in patches of moss and creeping  half-dead ivy, signaling the neglect that had overtaken the once-tended space.

Fallen leaves formed a muted carpet over the ground, their colors ranging from deep russets to golden ambers. Wild grasses and brambles wove through the overgrown paths, and the contrast between the elegant memorials and the wild surroundings told Eris that no one had visited this area in a while— no one had mourned them in person.

Eris crouched beside the graves, his cloak brushing against the cold, smooth stones. His fingers traced the autumn-themed engravings, but the act felt hollow.

It was all wrong.

He needed to return to his own reality, but doubt gnawed at him, bit at his gut like an anxious dog. 

Was his reality even real anymore?

Had this been his life all along?

No, he told himself, it wasn't possible.

He could feel the pulse of power now, a flicker of something deep within. He needed to leave, to fight, to find a way to wake up. Lucien was alive, his mother was alive, you were on your knees by his body, and he was a High Lord.

A crunch broke the silence behind him, and Eris turned, his breath catching as he saw you. He rose to his feet slowly, unaware of the tear streaking down his cheek until your eyes tracked it.

A beat of silence.

"You were always too soft," you finally said.

Eris swallowed, his throat tight. "What are you doing here?"

Time after time, you always seemed to find him.

Even in this world, where everything felt twisted and wrong, where your gaze burned with a hate he had never seen before, you still found him. You stared at him now, with disdain instead of concern, with annoyance instead of curiosity. And yet, you still found him.

Here, at the graves of his family, where the autumn air clung to the stones like a silent witness, you stood before him.

You found him. 

As if you had read his thoughts, as if your mind had come to the same conclusion, you took a deep, unsteady breath. Your eyes flickered with a sense of vulnerability, barely recognizable to anyone— anyone but Eris. 

"I don’t know," you replied. "But I am."

Because, somehow, you always found him.

He stared at you for a moment. "This isn’t right."

Something softened in your features. 

You tilted your head slightly. "Then what is?"

Before he could answer, he heard something—his name. Your voice. The sound of it echoed in the air, tugging at him. Your expression shifted, the you before him mirroring his own confusion as you both looked around. The voice—real. Familiar.

He looked up at the sky, then back at you, but before he could speak, your form began to fade, and the world around him erupted into blinding white.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: eris was cruel at times bc he needed to be!! autumn and beron wouldve chewed him up and spat him out otherwise!!!

as always, thank you for reading <3

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