#that sequence had my jaw on the floor the first time i read it ~2 yrs ago

[wobubling]

Can u imagine asking god if you can never be forgiven for your past sins and wondering if you're irredeemable & unsalvageable and then an actual literal angel comes and shields you from harm and cradles your broken body and tells you that you're not lost. happened to my good buddy nicholas d wolfwood

[the-ate-show]

00:02

Jealousy’s a Green Eyed Monster

Wc: 4.3k

Her room was massive, at least twice yours.

Oh my god, 8 was on top. You could have picked it. Everyone marvelled at the space, the lavish decor, the money that increased by unfathomable amounts every minute. They chatted vaguely about how much they each made, but you were more fixated on the bathtub. The bathtub she no doubt showered in with your drinking water. As a kid, you'd always considered a fancy bathtub the height of luxury, and now you see it for what it is.

You were right.

Besides, how'd she even get it in there? You wouldn't have been able to move it on your own, and yet here she was. You reentered the physical realm as 6 told everyone he made 130,000 won a minute. He turned to you, and you replied,

“50,000 Won,” you nodded and 2 scoffed. Not at you, just at the prospect. You gave a sorry look, and people continued to say their amounts. 

7 said something about a fibonacci sequence, you remembered learning about that in school. Either way, you felt too sick to respond while he explained it to the group. After glancing at the meal kits, counting them and the empty water bottles, the group decided to continue downwards, inspecting each room. 

You walked by the side of 2 on the way down, tension filled the air. Between the mixture of jealousy at 8 and anger at the situation, neither of you could talk. The group reached 7’s room, and part of you didn’t want to enter, but that would be suspicious. You leaned against the wall.

A table. He bought a table. 

You tried not to laugh, what a dork. A table. Hope he bought a textbook as well, maybe a bedtime story to read before laying on his mattress- which mind you was on the floor. So, a table, and no bed frame. More noteworthy though, is the table had two chairs, one on either side. How curious, perhaps he'd made a friend. Now you feel stupid. You didn't make a friend.

As you all filed out of the room, you lingered at the stairwell for a moment, eyeing the huge timer that ticked away. It has increased again. You pushed off of the wall with a quiet whistle, only to be jerked back into 7’s room, cinematically hearing the door slam shut. Before you could scream, his hand pressed against your mouth, his other hand on his lips shushing you as he pushed you to the wall.

Hi, truly the only thought you could think of.

You kept your eyes trained on him, clearly, he had the upper hand here, but a little pretending never hurt anybody. He leaned in close to your ear, and you shivered.

“Can I trust you to be quiet?” meow. You rolled your eyes, and his hand pressed further on your mouth. You furrowed your eyebrows, mentally preparing to lick him.

“Let’s keep this quick, you and I, we can’t let anyone know about us.” he paused, as if waiting for you to reply. “Whatever we had is long gone okay? Let’s just try to be civil,” 

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Weird, this was stressing him out. “Are we clear?” he dropped his hand hesitantly and you licked your lips, nodding while glancing at the door. He caught your jaw, gentle but demanding, pulling you back to meet his gaze, “Say it,”

“What?”

“Say you understand,”

…Dear lord. I can say a lot more than that beautiful. “Would saying it out loud change anything?”

“Please,”

Oh this is serious serious. “Yeah man, I understand, crystal clear,” he breathed a sigh of relief, mumbling ‘good, good.’ He dropped his hand, offering you a glance before standing up straight.

7 opened the door, gesturing for you to pass out first. You forced a smile, missing the warmth of his body against yours. Crap, about now was the time you’d go through old text conversations between you and him, reminding you of why you broke up in the first place. You smoothed your hair out, pausing at the top of the stairs, causing him to bump into you. He grabbed your arm and shot you a ‘why’d you stop?’ look before looking down the stairs. You looked between the eyes of the other people, raising a brow.

8 and 6 looked amused, the young lady in particular taking interest in you both. 5 and 1 avoided your gaze entirely. A small huff of air escaped 3, which earned him an elbow from 2. You glanced at 7, who ignored you to walk down the stairs. For a moment, the cogs in your head turned, and by the time you put two and two together, they'd moved onto the next room.

You descended the stairs with a guilty face, despite being innocent. It’s like when you walk out of a store without even buying anything. You entered 6’s room, too mortified to even speak, or observe anything beyond what meets the immediate eye. More stairs, then 5’s room. Because of these room tours, you now realise you really should've bought something. 

Finally at your room, you pull out the keycard and swipe it, pushing it open. At Least you had the foresight to fold up your bed sheet before you left your room that morning. You gave a very tragic jazz hands, which brought a smile to 3’s face. There wasn’t much to say. As they withdrew, you caught 7’s gaze. You’ve seen that look before.

. . .  

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, fishing your key out of your purse.

He half scoffed and half laughed, “I won’t!”

“Good, or else you’d hurt my feelings,” you turned around, pushing the key into the keyhole and struggling a bit with it. He stared at your keychain. It was one he got you, and he couldn't help but feel pride that you’d actually used it. 

The door groaned in annoyance when you opened it, and it was a bit of a struggle to do so. Yu walked in, his eyes tracing over the lousy space you called home.

“It’s cosy.”

“I hate you,”

“I didnt even-”

“Yeah but you thought about it!” you pouted, motioning for him to take off his shoes. He does, and you turn to greet your cat.

He was still working on removing his shoes, “For the record I wasn’t thinking about it.”

A hairless cat that frequented your building. When you first moved in, you found him a little strange, but now, snug as a bug in his hand knit sweater, the little worm grew on you. When you rescued him, you told your boyfriend all about the adorable cat you now have, and when you said ‘expensive breed’ he thought you'd refer to a persian, or a ragdoll, not a sphinx. You held the little boy in your hands, giving him a million kisses before turning to Yu.

“Meet-”

“What is that?” his face contorted into discomfort.

“My son. My pride and joy.”

“Babe, that is not a cat. A rat maybe,” you swatted his chest, and he snickered.

“Don’t listen to the mean man, he just hates beautiful things,” you cooed at the cat, nuzzling your nose into his head.

. . .  

Back then, it wasn’t apparent what he felt when he saw your apartment. Now it was. Pity. To him you were the helpless, hairless stray cat. You felt sick at the thought, and hurried past him. 

The next few rooms were nothing but a blur, but it was comforting knowing 3 had also bought the bare minimum of just literal newspapers. 

1’s room made you feel guilty for ever even being jealous of 8. This man could hardly stand, and could probably reach across either end of the room without moving from the middle. The sick people who made this game made it a hierarchy. But why? What’s the purpose?

Either way, 8 sent the meals down the chute, and everyone sat in a circle in 1’s room. It was almost familiar to be in this kind of setting. 

The food was mostly good, maybe adequate was a better word for it. You hesitate as another bite of food comes up to your lips, when you notice 3 down his meal without a singular breath. The man was hungry. Wordlessly, you slipped the rest of your portion into his bowl. You shook your head when he tried to decline. He ended up ducking his head in thanks, and succumbing to his hunger. 

You heard a quiet scoff, one you’d grown accustomed to, and your eyes snapped up, a wrinkle between your brows. You locked eyes with Yu-  7, and gave him a skeptical look.

What did I do wrong now?

He got up before you could say anything, or even shoot him a ‘what happened to not knowing each other' look, and sauntered off to smoke. Typical. TYPICAL.

3 got up shortly after to join him, and you leaned back on your palms, passing your tongue over your teeth. This was harder than you’d thought, to pretend you didn’t know him. To pretend you hadn’t spent the better part of two years learning about everything he is and everything he stood for. But there’s no warmth anymore, no familiarity. 7. 

Definitely not 8, that’s bottom of the barrel, last pick type of number. Whoever picked 7 must’ve been an equal idiot.

 You bit the inside of your cheek, maybe had you not torn to pieces this decision, you would’ve been at the top of the pyramid.

2 dusted her hand on her knees, getting up to help digestion, if you had to guess. She took a moment to stretch on the doorway before walking out. The peace was short lived, because her voice immediately echoed out.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” you sat up a little straighter, watching her with hawk eyes. “We only have fifteen minutes left!” 2 yelled. You and 1 sprung up, moving to see her.

The woman stood in a black bodycon dress that stopped mid thigh, with a weird poofy bit at the top. Her face wore designer sunglasses, and her feet a pair of high heels- no doubt costing a fortune. You all raced down the stairs, meeting her in front of the comm device, where she had a rack of clothing next to her, and that deceptively pure smile.

“Which one looks better?” 8 said with a shrug of a shoulder, holding a hanger up.

“Did you buy that… with time?” you asked, fingers twitching at your sides.

2, with more passion, “if you wanted to play dress up, you could've done it in your own room. Why buy it out here!”

8 gave a ‘isn’t it obvious?’ face and then spoke it a buttery soft voice, “If i did, I wouldn't have been able to wear it out here. I wanted to wear it out here.” 

The blonde woman’s eye twitched, “Do you have a death wish?” but before she could do what most probably would’ve been a crime, a male voice sounded.

“Don’t intimidate her. Talk it out,” 6 said, stalking over with his hands on his hips. 2 craned her neck over to look at him ever so slowly.

8, walking like you’d imagine a princess would, went over to just underneath the LED timer. “Is it because of this? We could always extend that thing, time.” she balanced on the edge of the fake pool.

7 followed her with his eyes, “And how would we do that?”

She looked at him for a moment, stay away, no wait, do whatever you want, she then giggled, bringing her shoulders up, “You guys seriously don’t know? You don’t know how to extend it?” she continued to giggle as she walked off, “It’s the stairs,”

3 swallowed, following her along with the rest of the group. “The stairs?”

“Yes! Time extends when we step on them,”

…what sort of alternate reality does this woman live in? And more importantly, can I get what she’s on?

“Do you have any proof?” 7 spoke, seemingly skeptical.

8 parroted his last word, pretending she forgot. 2 stormed forward, “Stop messing around and tell us.”

“Only if you apologize to me first,”

“What?”

“You were really mean earlier,”

“Over my dead-” 2 stormed forward but was very harshly pulled back by 6. You flinched, a quiet gasp coming out without your consent.

“Use your words,” 6 said, in a gravelly voice.

“What's your problem?” 2 growled and 6 yelled back again. 

“Whatever, I can’t lose like this,” you grumbled, dashing forward and towards the stairs, triggering a chain reaction of the others. 

For the remaining 11 minutes, you went up and down and up and down and up and down until up became down and down became up and you were sure you’d throw up. Finally, the timer hit 10 seconds, with seemingly no want to increase again. You leaned your head down, biting your tongue. 3 stood right next to you, and he stared with pure fear at the clock. You struggled to grapple with the reality of the situation. The red LEDs vanished, and between the groans and sighs, you felt tears well up in your eyes.

For once, once, you had the opportunity to be rich presented to you on a silver- no- gold platter, and some whiney princess had to come and pray it away from your shaking hands. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, it's not fair.

It's not FAIR.

A beacon of hope, the numbers two and four appeared, twenty four when put together. The collective cheers of relief rang, along with that little turd’s voice as she celebrated solving a problem she’d created. 3 collapsed onto the ground next to you, and you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a breathless laugh.

“You okay?” you asked him with a smile, he nodded.

“I thought it was over,”

“You and me both,” you giggled.

So, stairs extend time. Of course it would be manual labour out of all things. You groaned loudly to yourself, kicking the folded bed sheets in your room. You collided with the ground, covering your eyes with your palms.

The next morning everyone got up bright and early, with each person assigned 7 touches of 8th floor sign, you were prepared to suffer. You stretched your legs lightly, glancing back at the time. Then, with the cue from 7, everyone bolted to the stairs. You decided to jog, as running would burn you out pretty quickly. Sure enough, people started to slow down by the 3rd flight of stairs, while you were still going strong.At the end of the day, you all piled into 1’s room, eating together in silence.

The days blurred into each other, with minimal conversation, and the same boring routine. Until.

“I feel like I haven’t eaten anything,” 3 sighed, leaning back. 

“Here,” you slid your plate to him, he almost took it but 2 gave him a look and he hesitated. “Seriously, I’m good,”

That was a lie, but c'mon, you felt bad. 

3 hesitated again, looking at 2, who continued to glare at him. 6 used the opportunity and took the plate for himself. 

“Hey-“ 3 started, but 6 had practically inhaled the rest of it. Fatty.

“What? You weren’t gonna take it and she didn’t want it,” 6 shrugged, licking his lips. 2 looked at you with annoyance, then back to 6, “She would’ve eaten it had 3 told her no firmly,”

“It’s okay,” you diffused the argument before it spiraled further, “Wouldn’t have offered if I still wanted it, don’t worry about me 2,” you said to her softly, and she gave you a scoff.

“This isn’t sustainable,” 6 said, looking at the food, “we should split into teams, so on the day people are working they’d get more food,”

That actually… was not a bad idea.

So, the next day, you stood in two equal rows of people, ready to be divided.

Team A: 8, 6, 4, 2- the evens.

Team B: 7, 5, 3, 1- the odds.

“I want to switch teams,” 2 said before anything could take place. “We don’t get along,” she casted you the look, but it was clear it wasn’t intended to be for you.

3 avoided the gaze of the team, 5 would’ve gained nothing from moving…leaving-

“I’ll switch,” 1 smiled, moving to your side.

Team A: 8, 6, 4, 1. 

And thus commenced day one, where you and your team members gave it your all. Towards the middle, you stumbled upon 1 sat down, and 6 talking to him. He was taking a break on the stairs, and 6 offered to help him up. How noble. Just as they locked hands, 6 seemed to crush 1’s, evident by his groans and gasps for it to stop. You covered your mouth, team B appearing seemingly out of nowhere behind you. As 6 finally let go, he turned to see you all stood. 2 walked up, bumping into him on purpose after offering to take 1’s shift. He tried to decline but she’d already vanished. You jogged up the stairs, crouching in front of 1 and taking his hand in yours,

“Does it still hurt? Did he break it?” 1 timidly shook his head, and you helped him back up to his feet. 6 chuckled, staring you down. He had that surly look on his face, with that nauseating smirk. He was almost daring you to go against him, to challenge him.  You couldn’t take him up on that offer, this was way too deep in shark infested waters.

And then the cycle continues. Monotonous days of running with little to no rewards. Well, that was mostly your fault, buying anything felt almost trivial.

Until one day the chute pinged, and you stretched uncomfortably as you opened it, the stench making you stumble backwards.

“What the-?” you coughed, covering your nose with your shirt. crap. literally. A knock resonated at your door. You got up and opened the door, 2

She leaned on your doorway, a bored look on her face. You did not drop your shirt from your nose, “They just sent me… their feces,” 2 laughed at your choice of words.

“Feces… miss proper,” 2 walked past you into your room, leaving the door ajar, sliding the chute shut and sending it down, then turning to you, “1 was feeling guilty for not really running, so he offered to take everyone’s waste bags.”

“But his room is tiny,” you said, crossing your arms. “Where would he even sleep?” 2 shrugged.

“I can’t consciously send mine down there,” she replied.

“Me neither, not that you even gave me the option to,” you giggled as you gestured to the closed chute, she looked sheepish.

You cracked your knuckles awkwardly, and she sighed. “I didn’t mean it earlier,”

“Hm?”

“About not getting along. You’re okay 4,”

A shy smile tugged on your lips, and you nodded, “You’re not too bad yourself,”

Her eyes wandered down, and then a grin spread on her face. She grabbed your arm, bringing it up to inspect, pushing your sleeve upwards.

“Cute,” 2 referred to the dainty heart tattoo on your forearm. “Didn’t see you as the type to get ink,”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Trust me I'm not. My friend was very persuasive, we both got one,”

She snorted, dropping your arm, “Bad idea to get matching ones,”

“Yeah lesson learned,”

“You guys had a falling out?”

. . .  

“When i meant spontaneous i didn’t mean stick and pokes,” you winced as it pinched your skin again, sat uncomfortably on Yu’s bed.

He remained focused on the design, “This is peak spontaneity,”

“Spontaneous people don't use words like th-OW,”

. . .  

… “You could say that,”

You paused for a moment, “Are you inked?”

She smiled, nodding and rolling up her sleeve to show the ones on her forearm. She then turned around, pulling off her top to show a yin yang koi fish on her shoulder blade. You marveled at it, tracing your hands on the ink.

“Yours is so well done,”

“No offence, yours isn't,” she laughed, and you flicked her lightly.

“What’s this one mean?” you asked for the millionth time it seemed like, listening to the cool stories she shared that gave you more and more puzzle pieces.

You stepped back, and she turned to face you again, showing you more tattoos, on her bicep, on her collarbone, and side, giving you the winded tale of each. In the distance, you could hear 6 talking to 8.

“What a creep,” you mumbled, stepping back to lean against the wall, she rolled her shoulders.

“Tell me about it, him and 8 will appear in my nightmares,” she rolled her eyes and you snickered.

“Reminds me of the type of men to mansplain everything,”

She raised a playful eyebrow, “Have you ever had pool mansplained to you?”

You tilted your head back against the wall, “I don’t think so,”

She smirked, “Allow me then,” she pulled you off of the wall, and put you into position for imaginary pool, talking in a false husky voice that reminded you all too well of late nights and sleazy men.

You snorted, “Like this?” you fake hit it, and she made a show of whispering loud enough, “Atta girl.” which caused you to quietly scream in mortification, which caused her to also laugh, dropping her head against your bent body.

Just then, a fast knock and the swinging of the door brought your attention up.

You were all frozen in time for a moment, 3 and 7 stood at the door looking like they’ve just seen a ghost, and 2 bending you over with her shirt off.

This looked so bad. 

The sound of money being added lit the fuse of chaos, and 3 immediately flustered, tripping over his words and turning around to cover his eyes. You squeaked, shoving 2’s shirt into her hands to cover her, and standing in front of her. 7 stared at his shoes and closed the door.

You turned to 2 with a horrified expression, but her’s seemed less shocked. Almost… amused.

“Are you okay?”

“They’re such idiots,” she slipped the white shirt back on, and you embarrassedly passed her the jacket. You opened the door to find them both still there, 7 leaned against the railing, and 3 sat on one of the steps with his head in his hands.

The latter jumped to his feet, apologising profusely to 2, who gave him a pat on the back and walked away, but not before turning to you and winking with a ‘call me’ gesture, causing both 3 and 7 to whip their heads around to look at you.

Traitor.

You met 7’s gaze, then the ground seemed more enticing. Although in hindsight, you just seemed more guilty.

“We’re about to start laps.” 7 said with an emotionless voice. You nodded.

“Kay, thanks,” you walked down a few paces faster, not missing the quiet whisper of 3 going ‘What just happened?’.

The shift went as it always did, ascend descend, up and down, rise and fall, breathe in and out. 

By nightfall, you all stared blankly at the not increasing timer. This was odd, all that running for nothing? But after a few complaints, the seemingly sentient machine pulled itself together, and more time was added.

You decided to dine inside your room this time, too humiliated to face the music. You took a few bites of the rice, then a sip of water. Then you decided to leave the rest of the meal kit for tomorrow morning, with no 3 nearby to share it with, you could just have it for breakfast. Neatly tucked in a corner, you laid down on the bed sheets again. You really ought to buy a nicer stay.

You woke up with renewed passion for living, downing the meal and rushing to join them in the circle. By the time you stood to stretch, you felt your eyes grow bleary, and the air struggled to rush into your system. You groaned quietly, the world fading into background noise as you put your hands on your knees, trying to calm your rapid fire heart.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, your airways constricted and your head feeling far too light for good. Your legs wobbled, giving out underneath you and you continued to struggle for air.

“She’s having an all-” 7 started but was cut off by 5.

“She’s going into anaphylactic shock! She needs an epipen!”

2 was the one to sprint towards the intercom, and you could vaguely make out 6’s resistance to her before the world faded to black.

–

With a soft groan, you found yourself stirring again. Your head was pounding, your body felt frigid and it was far too hot in here. The memories of what transpired hit you like a train, and you sat up so fast. A mistake, truly, as your eyes struggled to grapple with the sudden change, you had to push the bile down.

“Lay back down 4,” 5’s soothing voice said, cupping the back of your head. But you didn’t listen “You were in shock,”

“I know,” you replied, voice quiet and meek. You tilted your head back, swallowing thickly. “My bad, wasn’t paying attention to what I was eating,”

“You scared me half to death,” 5 pouted, swatting your thigh in a motherly fashion, which elicited a few giggles from all around.

“Aw I’m sorry, I’m sure it was quite the show,” you said, feeling embarrassment well up. "It was,” 6 said, and he pointed at the timer, which read ‘forty hours'. "Brainy came to an epiphany. They want entertainment,”

AN: there's more interesting stuff going on in the next chapter TRUSTT

Taglist: @entr4p3

[thaleleah]

Part 2 of the Review

He sits while you work, stare on your face as you free his own from the scruff. 

Don't mind me. I'm just picturing him staring at her like this: 😍

This time he talks even though the straight razor is pressed directly under his jaw. “You can take your veil off. I reckon it's just makin’ you hotter,”

He's really testing his luck, isn't he? 😂

When things get hard or tensions get too high at the clinic and things seem like they’re turning for the worst, Sister Maria likes to invoke a practice that she calls ‘ de nuevo ’.

“It means ‘again’,” She had told you. “Restart. Do over. Start new. When life gets too hard and there seems to be no end in sight. Grita ‘de nuevo!’ and start again with fresh eyes and an open heart,”

“De nuevo,” You whisper, and then you start again.

I love how she still seeks comfort in her Sisters who she's clearly very close with. Despite the fact that there's a fair distance between them she doesn't forget what they taught her and seeks out their guidance. 🥲

But that line of thinking doesn’t matter right now because it's not just that he said your name - it’s how he said it.

Your name, called in what you can only assume is a moan of pain.

Readers: *giggle nervously* We're in danger. 😁

Billy’s not in pain as you had thought. 

He’s… touching himself. Naked body, fully naked this time, stretched out on bed with his hand between his legs. His thighs look like they’re trembling, toned tummy tensing and sucking in slightly as his face twists in response to what he’s doing to himself.

I swear, the more I'm reading it the more convinced I am that he did this to her on purpose. He wanted her to walk in on him. Maybe he thought that this kind of shock therapy would work on her. 😂

“And what about you?” He asks, buttoning his newly fresh pants at his waist.

“What about me?”

“Women have needs too. Do your needs ever get met?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs on his shirt, completely unfazed. “Your needs. When you feel it. Do they ever get met?”

Me throughout this entire exchange:

👁️👄👁️

He’s alive - Jesus is alive in the picture, head moving around and eyes looking and seeing everything.

Seeing you.

And he’s angry.

The normally relaxed and serene expression on his face has been replaced by one of fury. His brows pull together, eyes narrowing as he watches Billy claim you, lips pulling up in a snarl when your arms wrap tighter around Billy’s neck in fear. Billy takes your grip as passion and thrusts into you harder, moaning into your ear as your body is flooded with wave after wave of pleasure. But you can’t tear your eyes from the picture, can’t help but whimper as you stare wide eyed at the angry, holy being who is cutting you down with the immeasurable weight of his judgment.

When I tell you I screamed when I read this for the first time. 🙈

You're talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before-

"WAKE UP!” Jesus yells, and his voice is booming in your ears, so loud you think your eardrums might burst. “WAKE UP!”

Your body jerks awake in the same way that it jerks after having a dream where you’re falling off a cliff.

And you can only imagine how loud my gasp was when I realised this was a dream sequence.

You can’t sleep with Billy in the same bed anymore. Sam is due to make another trip into the neighboring town today and promised that he would stop by on his way. It would be better if he could see that you are both sleeping in separate spaces like you should be. Sam is a sweetheart - he would never judge you for anything, even less of something that you had to do for your own health and he is the last person that would ever accuse you of doing something inappropriate. But the laws of society and need for modesty should still be followed which means sleeping on the floor again is a must.

Billy doesn’t like the idea.

Of course he doesn't like the idea. He hoped he was making some progress. 💀

The idea of her slipping away from his fingers... he clearly doesn't like it.

Billy sighs, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling in irritation. “I do think it’s necessary for you to sleep in the bed, y/n,”

“Stop,”

The word cuts from your vocal cords like ice. You can’t believe it. Again. He did it again!

“Why did you say my name like that?” You ask. “You’re dropping my earned title. That’s the second time you’ve done it.”

Third, but you don’t want to think about the other time he’s said it. “Why?”

“Just an accident,”

An obvious sign that he's getting too comfortable. 😬

“Sam!” You shout in relief. “Thank the Lord! It’s so good to see you,”

Behind you, Billy relaxes his stance a bit, lowering his gun down but keeping it cocked and you nod your head at it, wordlessly telling him to replace the hammer and put it down, but he won’t acknowledge you.

Not him trying to act like he's the man of the house. Boy, put the gun down. No time for a pissing contest. 😂

“Sister y/n,” He greets, clasping your hands in his and you return the gesture, squeezing his hands between yours in friendly affection. “It’s good to see you too.”

A loud clatter sounds as Billy tosses his gun back onto the floor, the metal striking roughly against the wooden boards. Sam lets go of your hands to turn his attention to Billy, tipping his hat at him respectfully.

Once again, him making a loud noise to make them pull away from each other will never stop being funny to me. 💀

“How are they?” You ask Sam. You don’t need to clarify, he knows who you’re asking about.

“They miss you. Sister Catherine holds everything together like she always does, but she always makes for all of us to pray together for you. And Billy, of course.” He says, nodding to Billy. “Praying for Billy’s quick recovery and for you to return home safe. Sister Ann is biting the sides of her fingers more than ever now. I stop her whenever I see her doing it, but she’s bled quite a few times from it already. Sister Maria was out sick for two days after you left. Sick with worry is what Sister Catherine said, but she is up and well now although she does still worry.”

I love how you're still bringing the Sisters back somehow (even through brief mentions) It's so touching to see how much they care for one another. ♥️

And they are clearly a huge part of our nun's life.

"Billy’s right, I should get moving if I’m gonna make it back to town before dark. Thank you for the offer though, Sister y/n. I know if you cooked it, it must be mighty good.”

Reluctantly, you nod. “I’ll walk you out then,”

Billy makes his way back to the bedroom as you walk Sam out.

This pouty mf won't even say a polite goodbye to him. He's so done. 😂

Your mouth falls open in horror.

Billy’s on his stomach, upper body cradled between your open thighs as his hands curl around each one of them to keep them spread. His mouth is pressed against your core, wetness glistening off his face with each movement as he drags his tongue through your folds.

And you swear when those beautiful blue eyes you’ve come to know these past few weeks flick up to stare at you from beneath his dark lashes, you don’t see that same kind and caring man just in need of guidance and faith that you’ve come to associate them with.

Instead, you think you might be looking at the Devil.

He really said: "I'm tired of playing games. Time to level up in terms of our relationship." 😏

I absolutely cannot wait for Part 4. ♥️😊

Don't mind me. I'm just picturing him staring at her like this: 😍

One million percent! Straight up heart eyes with absolutely zero blinking.

He's really testing his luck, isn't he? 😂

He's getting soooooo comfortable, but he should have known that this would have been a no go lol. Like... how inappropriate, Billy, what were you thinking

I swear, the more I'm reading it the more convinced I am that he did this to her on purpose. He wanted her to walk in on him. Maybe he thought that this kind of shock therapy would work on her. 😂

Shock therapy 😂

It's totally possible he did it on purpose. This man has no shame. He got a little to excited during bath time and said "fuck it, i l LIVE for the danger" lmaooooo

Me throughout this entire exchange: 👁️👄👁️

No cause the fucking audacity he has lollll

When I tell you I screamed when I read this for the first time. 🙈 You're talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before-

IM SO HAPPY YOU COMMENTED ON THIS Omggggg this was the scene I was most excited for people to read. Thank you so much for saying this 🧡

I feel like this would be the ultimate nightmare for her. To be seduced and sinning and caught sinning and verbally yelled at by someone so holy and righteous oh my fucking gosh can you imagine??? Like your own thoughts and knowing of right and wrong and following the Bible and God to the best of your ability and knowing when you fail is one thing, but to visually be judged and disgraced by someone so holy would be so horrifying.

Not him trying to act like he's the man of the house. Boy, put the gun down. No time for a pissing contest. 😂

Bruh 😂

I love how you're still bringing the Sisters back somehow (even through brief mentions) It's so touching to see how much they care for one another. ♥️

Yessss her Sisters are her entire world (besides God of course). The people that bring out the best in her and encourage her to be the best version of herself. I think they're the only people in the world that she's ever felt safe enough around to fully be herself

He really said: "I'm tired of playing games. Time to level up in terms of our relationship." 😏

Again, its just absolutely insane to me cause the AUDACITY, I swear. 😭

Thank you again so much for taking the time to write all this out for me, hun. I really do appreciate it so much and it makes me so happy. I had been in the middle of shopping at Target yesterday when you sent it and I had to pull my cart off to the side to read it cause I was so impatient lol.

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

[salmonskinrolltf]

Nerdflix - Phase 1

Phase 1 | Phase 2 | Phase 3

I knew I was causing a scene in the dorm hallway, dressed in nothing but a pair of skimpy shirt shorts and my messenger bag. But what can I say! I was feeling a bit overheated from wrestling practice. And maybe I wanted to overheat a few guys and gals on my dorm floor while I was at it.

The lock beeped when I slid my student ID into the slot, and I dropped my messenger bag on the floor with a grunt. I heard a startled Yelp from the couch. Ugh. My roommate. He’s nice enough but he’s SUCH a nerd.

“Hey Manny.” I grunted.

“How many times do I have to remind you, Teddy? It’s Immanuel.” In a huff, Immanuel pushed up his glasses, which immediately slid back down his nose again. I noticed he was wearing a dorky denim jacket with a thick lining. What a weirdo, it was like 72 degrees in here. Well I guess that’s what life is like when you’ve got absolutely no meat on your bones.

“Bro, take it easy. Your name doesn’t just roll off the tongue.”

“It would if you actually attended your Spanish class instead of playing games all the time,” he said snippily.

“In wrestling, it’s called a match, dude. Not a game. Maybe you’d know that if you unstuck your nose from a textbook every once in a while.”

“That’s not fair! I have fun!”

“I’m sure streaming sci-fi shows and going to comic conventions counts as fun for someone, but not for me. You’d have to drag me kicking and screaming to one of your all-day binge watches.” I strutted off to my bedroom door, confident that the little pipsqueak had had enough.

As I shut the door, I could have sworn I heard him mutter under his breath, “oh no, I won’t have to drag you at all...”

————————————

The next morning I was just sitting down to my morning protein shake when I heard an entrancing melody coming from the TV. I glanced over and saw Immanuel rummaging through his knapsack to find his glasses cleaner while one of his infinite dorky sci-fi shows began. The logo blaring across the screen said “Nerdflix.” Huh. Never heard of that one before. Must be some new streaming service.

After the logo faded away, the screen flashed bright white, dazzling my corneas. As I blinked away the spots and my vision began to unblur, the entrancing melody began again as the show’s title sequence rolled through images of spaceships darting across inky black voids, daring heroes fighting bug-eyed monsters, and sexy ladies in green paint swooning beside them. It looked exactly like every other show the nerdlinger had ever binged during our time as roommates, but something about this one compelled me to keep watching. Must have been the babes. The title card read “Startales.”

I shrugged and opened Instagram on my phone.

Immanuel sat down with his bowl of Wheaties and watched Captain Tiberius con his way onto the astro-frigate of a band of pirates, hack into the mainframe, and deliver cybercredits in equal amounts to the poor families all throughout the horsehead nebula. I gasped when he nearly had his head torn off by a ravenous bat-beast, and it wasn’t until the credits rolled that I realized I had sat through the entire episode, not scrolling through my phone once.

I scratched my bulging chest, jaw agape in astonishment. “Manny, dude, that show was actually pretty cool. Mind if I watch along with you next time?”

Immanuel grinned. “Sorry Teddy, no can do. I’m actually starting a big project this week. But you can go ahead and use my account if you’re really interested. That was the first episode so you literally haven’t missed anything.”

I smiled, too broadly I thought. What had gotten into me? “You know what, I think I might! Thanks!”

After Manny left for class, I couldn’t help but wonder... was Captain Tiberius going to give the rose quartz sword to the king, or keep it for himself? I glanced at my phone’s clock. 7:45AM. I wanted to hit the gym at 9 before my 10AM Spanish class, so that left me time for at least one more episode... I glanced down at the remote. Ah, what the hell!

Tiberius had just swapped chalices with the space witch trying to poison him when I glanced down at my phone again. Shit! 9:45?! How had I sat through two and a half episodes without even noticing?

So much for my morning pump, but at least if I rushed I could make it to class on time.

I burst through the door of my Spanish classroom at 10:01, red-faced and out of breath. So much for not being late. I guess my internal timing was off. Missing a morning pump can do that to a guy. I adjusted the strap of my stringer tank, which had fallen over my left shoulder, and made a move toward my normal seat in the back row. Only... now there was somebody sitting in it. Professor Alvaro shot me an impatient look and I was forced to take the only remaining seat, all the way in the front. I wasn't used to having the professor so close to me, so I had to pretend to take diligent notes, all the while wondering whether Tiberius would end up choosing to marry the space princess Athena or his childhood best friend Xendra, the farmgirl with the heart of gold.

This did not end up working out in my favor when the pop quiz was passed around, and I got a big fat whopping D. Maybe Immanuel was right. I should spend a little more time studying if I want to keep that athletic scholarship. It hurt me to delay Startales any longer than I had to, but I promised myself that between my last class and my wrestling meet tonight, I would study Spanish like there was no tomorrow. Then after wrestling, I could return to the welcoming arms of Captain Tiberius.

Back at the dorm, when I was making flash cards for common verbs and adjectives, Immanuel came in with a huge duffel bag under his arm. He chuckled knowingly at my feverish scribbling on the notecards. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Watch it! I might actually be doing homework like a nerd, but I can still take you down, Manny!"

"Maybe. Maybe not..." with a mysterious grin, he vanished into his bedroom. Weirdo.

That night was the final wrestling meet of the season, and everyone was counting on me to perform.

What a time for me to get the yips, right? Again and again I ended up on my back, slammed against the mat. I couldn't quite maneuver my body like I knew I could. I just felt... weak. And small. Sure, I still cut a striking figure in my singlet, but I couldn't help like I used to be MORE striking. And didn't I used to have a tattoo? No, that's ridiculous. Tattoos don't just disappear. This isn't the holodeck on the starship Experian. 

After being used to mop the floor, I just wanted to run home and hide under a blanket on the couch, but my buddy Rico clapped an arm over my shoulder and insisted I grab a post-match smoothie with him. When we sat at the table clutching our drinks (I ordered a small, my appetite just wasn't feeling it that night), he shot me a concerned glance.

"What's with you today, man? Girl problems?"

I sighed. "I wish it were that simple. Just a bad day, I guess."

"Well, even the golden boy has to have a bad day sometimes, right? Oh hey, what did you decide you're doing next season? Soccer with your cool friend Rico or baseball with a bunch of losers who don't deserve you?"

I clapped a hand on my forehead. "Oh shit, I totally forgot to even THINK about that. My mind's been stuck on Athena vs. Xendra, not soccer vs. baseball."

"Umm... what?"

"Nevermind. When's the deadline again?"

"Tomorrow, dude."

"Well, I guess we'll both know what I decide by then, right?"

"...right."

"Well... Gotta jet."

I darted out of the shop. Hmmm, not my best social interaction of all time. A weird capper at the end of a weird day. Time to self-medicate by returning at long last to Startales! I practically ran the last few steps to my dorm, hopping on the couch and pressing play.

Three episodes later, I could hear Immanuel's cardkey pinging the lock. I turned to him, smiling warmly. "Dude! I can't thank you enough for letting me use your login! This show is the shit!"

He smiled and stuck his tongue out. "Sick! I'm so glad you're digging it, dude! I knew you would!"

My brow furrowed at that outburst. "Dude? Sick? I don't think I've ever heard you say words that have entries on Urban Dictionary."

“There's a first time for everything, brah." Immanuel grinned a cocky grin and stuck his tongue out. This cheeky mood was doing wonders for him. His skin seemed a little clearer and... were those new glasses? They actually looked kinda cute. Actually, this was a whole new 'fit, as far as I could tell. Still buttoned up and dorky, but actually tailored and showing off a lean figure that had more sinewy strength than I'd have imagined.

I watched in awe as he sauntered over into his room. Well, I guess people really can change. If he keeps this up, I might have to check for signs of Altruvian brainworm possession, like the one that almost killed Lt. Dirgle on Startales... Speaking of, I turned back to the TV to continue my binge.

Phase 1 | Phase 2 | Phase 3

[kylorengarbagedump]

cocky. beautiful. bastard. - chapter 2

Read on AO3. Part 1 here. Part 3 here.

Summary:  It's time for you to learn the rules.

Words: 7500

Warnings: more delayed orgasm, cum eating, mando’a

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Hello! I know I mentioned this would be expanded to three parts, but I actually decided to crank it up to five, oops. I have some shit planned for this fic--I needed a break, needed to write something fun and hot, haha.

I have been blown away by the feedback on this fic!! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I really really hope you like this installment, it's literally 7500 words and 6000 of it is porn. ToT LMAO. Let me know what you think!! I love y'all so very very much.

This morning, you’d woken up on your half-stuffed mattress, rolled onto your cracked stone floor, and bathed yourself in the kitchen basin, scrubbed your skin with the ratty sponge. You’d stuffed your face with the stale roll you’d made for your stew the previous night and shoved the bowls in the conservator before tugging on underwear and tossing your robe over it. In your tote, you’d carted your usual: a jar of lotion, mint cologne, and the little case that stored your identification and tip portions, and when you left your flat, you’d slipped on a pair of sandals and locked the door.

As you followed the Supreme Leader of the First Order onto the ramp of his sleek, knife-wing shuttle, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever cross that threshold again.

He had been silent since the moment you’d left the brothel, and when you boarded the ship, you glanced around the empty hull, discovering that the both of you were alone. Before you could question it, he was in the cockpit, the ramp was whirring, and your mind was spinning, elated and confused.

Counting the handful of seats, your mouth screwed in consideration. Your eyes crept to the front, spying a pilot’s seat--occupied--and a co-pilot’s seat, invitingly empty. With a shrug, you strode over to it and plopped down, stowing your belongings on your lap. He did not address you, did not even acknowledge the weight of your stare as he fiddled with the controls, engine roaring to life.

Kylo Ren was not only beautiful. He was huge. Of course, by now, you knew he had a massive cock, equally large hands--but the rest of him was just as proportional, just as hypnotizing. His shoulders were broad, even swathed under his cloak, his arms thick, his whole torso wide and solid with muscle. In a flash, you pictured him naked, a little thrill shooting through your spine. He’d said you were his, whatever that meant, and in comparison to what you’d woken up to this morning, the idea was more and more inviting.

He stole a glance--his gaze arrested your breath--and gripped the controls; in seconds, the ship was hovering, screaming, shooting into the sky.

You watched, speechless, as the pane of transparisteel was swallowed by white yellow blue black starlight, and then you were careening through space, hurtling out of the atmosphere and toward an unknown destination. The vastness of it mesmerized you, an echo of this man’s own engulfing perpetuity--both of them equally perplexing, equally captivating.

Maybe that was a little dramatic, but to be fair, despite the sore throb between your legs and the ache at your ass, just being this close to him buzzed your skin.

He guided the ship toward another, larger vessel--a Star Destroyer, you knew that much--and as he docked it in the hangar, the reality of your arrangement descended upon you. Hordes of Stormtroopers marched across ebony tile, cut through by officers in black uniforms, all of them with duty, all of them striding with purpose. Meanwhile, you’d just been plucked from a brothel on Nevarro, clad in your skivvies and a chemise cover-up. There was no shame in that admission, but more so the recognition that you were now far from home, in the company of a total stranger--a total stranger with the power to crush you between his palms without blinking.

Said stranger went through a sequence on the dash--the engine died, the ramp lowered to the ground. He stood, a towering dark wall, and studied the bay before turning his eyes to you. They flicked over your figure for a moment--appraising--and without a word, he turned, marching off the ship. You scrambled to your feet and followed, walking in double-time to match his pace.

When you entered the bay, dozens of faces snapped to you, and then shot to the floor, perhaps due to your attire and with whom you’d arrived. It was strange, to be important enough to not only warrant a glance, but to warrant its immediate aversion. As you walked, the masses parted for their Supreme Leader, and you trailed in his wake, feeling altogether powerful and powerless, an ember wisp to his raging inferno.

The Star Destroyer itself was repetitive and long, but while you followed your new leader, you took in every detail. To you, it might as well have been a palace, some sort of opulent, obsidian cavern, with floors clean enough to reflect your anxious face. Not anxious out of fear, of course--if the chakaar wanted to kill you, he could’ve done so when you’d mouthed off to him in the brothel--but anticipation. How this had happened to you, you weren’t sure, but a portion of you hoped the arrangement wouldn’t be temporary.

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren stopped in front of a blast door, passing a hand over a sensor--it opened for him, and he stood to the side, observing you in expectation. The intensity of his gaze rippled heat through your thighs, and you entered, shoulders squared, ignoring the irritating thump of your heart. He stalked behind you, a heavy shadow, his presence both looming and lascivious as you glanced around his quarters. The ceilings soared high, stark white floors sweeping to white walls, a set of stairs descending in front of you, spilling out into an empty, bright floorspace.

You turned to him, gripping your bag. “Welcome home?”

He sniffed. “If you learn the rules. Earn your place.”

“My place?” A hand rested on your hip, and you cocked a playful brow. “And what exactly is my place?”

“It’s simple.” He stepped toward you, scorching you in his stare--your chest tightened. “Your place is wherever I direct you. Doing whatever I’ve ordered.”

You swallowed. His. “Mm. Okay. And what might you order me to do?”

Another long stride, and he circled you, skating a leather finger down your arm as his mouth swooped to your ear. “Bid etyc, kih tracinya,” he murmured. “You know very well why I brought you here.”

Though his release was dripping down your thighs, it was difficult to resist the urge to spin around and hop on top of him. How could you possibly help yourself? He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he’d made you cum hard on his enormous cock. Twice.

“Me? Dirty?” You went to lean into him, and he stepped back, making you stumble. You pouted. “Hey!”

He huffed, crossing away from you, and you turned to follow him down the steps, grumbling to yourself. His chambers were huge, at least twice or maybe three times the size of the entirety of your efficiency--so large you couldn’t identify the location of the refresher, or the food storage, or even the bedroom.

“So,” you said, still scanning your surroundings, “where do you expect me to eat and sleep? What am I supposed to wear?”

“I don’t care.”

You balked, staring at his back. “You don’t care?”

He opened a door, gazing over something, not bothering to look at you. “No.”

“Okay.” You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Chakaar.”

At this, Kylo Ren spun, cloak whirling at his ankles, stalking to you in long strides. The thump of his boots rattled your bones, his size consumed your sight. You didn’t flinch--only stuck your chin out with a smirk. He stopped inches from you, chest rising, eyes glittering under the searing light of his quarters, vestiges of a beast.

He took your chin between gloved fingers. “This nasty little mouth is going to be my first project,” he purred, and tugged you flush to his solid frame. “When you speak to me, you will address me as Supreme Leader. Do you understand?”

You didn’t reply--you were too busy trying to pull your brain from a sea of lust. Ren pinched your jaw, and you whimpered, your thighs pressing together, skin flush with heat.

“Say it.”

A slow breath left your nose, warmth washing over his hand. Despite your desire to antagonize him, there was a deeper, greater desire to please him--to earn your place.

“Yes,” you replied, “Supreme Leader.”

“Hm.” He thumbed your lower lip, his voice black smoke. “Good girl.”

Two words, but still you clenched. “I might not be good all the time, you know.”

“Don’t worry.” A tiny smirk on Ren’s pretty mouth, and he leaned to your ear again. “I’m counting on it.”

The Supreme Leader released you, your skin frosting in his absence, and he moved past you, up the steps. You tracked him, shrinking in the enormity of the strange, soulless room where he apparently meant to abandon you. Frowning, you crossed your arms.

“Where are you going?” you asked, fumbling with your belongings. “Uh, Supreme Leader.”

“I’m departing.” Ren didn’t even bother to peer over his shoulder. “Remain here until I return.” In a flourish, he disappeared through the blast door.

You sighed, deflating. Nothing to do but become more familiar with what the Supreme Fucking Leader of the First Fucking Order had determined to be your new home.

If you earned your place.

You were alone for hours. After a bit of exploring, you’d located the food storage (a bunch of military rations, which you ate anyway), the refresher (replete with a tall standing shower), and the bedroom, at the bottom of another set of stairs--the most impressive to you. The Supreme Leader of the First Order slept on a wide mattress built into a nook, its supporting wall replaced with a massive pane of transparisteel. Beyond it, the galaxy floated by, a nebulous nightlight and blanket to his slumber.

You shrugged off your robe and underwear and climbed on top of the rumpled, soft sheets, curling on your side to watch ships wink in and out of existence. Nevarro was a tiny sphere in the darkness, everything and everyone you’d known shrinking to a speckle in the sky. Despite all of this newness, nestled in the bed of Kylo Ren, you were not afraid--you were exhilarated. You’d forgotten to contact Cerra, but in the moment, you didn’t particularly care. A sunshine vibration settled in your chest. At some point, your lids fell closed.

Thwack.

A sharp thigh smack ripped you to consciousness, and you squealed, whirling to face your attacker. At the edge of the bed stood the Supreme Leader, hair caked with sweat and filth, face smattered with dark red crust. You screamed, skittering back, until you realized he’d come from battle. This was his normal. And even as the stench of rotting copper filled your nose, when his gaze skimmed your naked body, you fought the urge to shiver.

“Uh, hello,” you said. “What was that for?”

“Come.” He gave no further instruction, and spun on his heel to climb the stairs.

The rules. You didn’t need to be told twice.

Kylo Ren led you into the refresher--a spark lighting between your legs at your impending reality--and activated the shower before peeling off his gloves. This was casual, emotionless to him, as if he was not the most powerful man in the universe, as if you, a former brothel wench, were not about to see him entirely naked. You could only stare, entranced, while he moved to his tunic hook by hook before shucking it to the floor, then pulled his undershirt free, revealing to you his thick, muscled torso. Carmine mud had soaked through his clothing, a mist over his skin.

The rest of his disrobing was similar--the removal of his boots, his pants and undergarments, until he was bare, human and ethereal, a deity decorated in blood and dirt. He gazed at you, face blank, urging you into the water with a nod of his head. Hiding your joy, you obliged, and stepped under the spray.

The moment the water hit you, Ren’s grip was at your shoulder, whipping you around and shoving your back to the chilly tile. You released a breath, staring at him, and his hand drifted to your neck, thumb rising to pry open your mouth.

“You will bathe me,” he said, tracing the line of your lower lip, “get me hard, and suck me off.” His thumb slid past your teeth, depressed your tongue. “And if you can make me cum, I might reward you.”

Heat--whether it was from the shower or your mind--rushed your flesh. You liked the idea of a challenge. You nodded, and he released your tongue.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

He gave your throat a warning squeeze. “Don’t make me wait.”

Biting your lip, you sought out the shampoo, finding it within an assortment of plain, regulation-type bottles. Everything you’d come across in his quarters had been quite plain, considering he had the opportunity to access the best of everything. Shrugging, you popped the top, squirted some in your palms before returning it, and lathered it between them. Turning to face him, your jaw dropped when you took in the enormity of his form. The Supreme Leader of the First Order was a molded machine, as gorgeous as he was terrifying. And you couldn’t wait to put your hands on him.

You crossed behind him, inspecting the collection of white scars that had faded across his skin before reaching to massage the shampoo into his hair. He was so tall, you had to stand on the tips of your toes to meet the top of his head, but you managed, working your fingers through the knotted tresses, freeing it of mud and blood. The water ran an eerie crimson as you combed through his dark locks, and when your nails scritched his scalp, you felt him tense, felt him fight a shiver from his spine. Hiding a grin, you did it again, drawing lines across his head, and you heard it--a soft, satisfied moan, caught in his chest. You swallowed, cunt throbbing.

“Do you like that?” you asked. “Supreme Leader?”

He only hummed, non-committal. You were determined to make him make that noise again.

Having finished with his hair, you let the water clear the soap from his head until his locks laid flat on his face, exposing his wide, rounded ears, flushed red from the shower. A devious little thought flicked in your brain--you grabbed the soap (also plain, a boring yellow bar) and made some lather, circled to face him.

The shampoo had loosened most of the muck from his face, but you decided to clean the rest, swirling tiny circles across his forehead, his cheeks, staring into his eyes. He stared back, watching you from behind an invisible barrier--and when you rubbed the shell of his ears, his gaze broke, lids fluttering in delight before he caught himself, lip curling in a hint of irritation. You smirked, another clench between your legs.

“What about that?” you murmured, ghosting your thumbs over the helix--another groan trapped in his throat. “You like that, sir?”

Ren stiffened his jaw, but didn’t move, almost daring you to continue. But you decided to move on with your task--there would be plenty more opportunities to tease him.

You cleared his face of debris before standing back to admire his body. To your disappointment,  his cock was still soft, but you knew this was through sheer effort, through a determination to make you earn it.

Starting with his shoulders, you ran your soapy hands down his strong neck, skimming across the long scar that arced over his eye, a pretty crevice in his flesh. You were close enough now that you realized he was covered in scars, marring his arms, his torso, his abdomen. Rather than repel you, they drew you closer--the evidence of his survival, the physical remnants of his conquests made your mouth water.

Stepping into him, you massaged the soap into his flesh, working it into his muscles, down his biceps, glancing at him when you did, a spark of excitement in his gaze. You kept his attention while you washed over his hands, circling each of his fingers with your fist, pumping them like you might his cock. They were thick, rigid in your palms as you cleaned them free of grime. His eye twitched.

Grinning, you gathered more soap, swirling large loops  over his broad, solid chest. His firmness made you throb, made you want to step even closer--but you focused on your duty, reminded of your mystery reward. You kneaded over his pectorals, flicking his nipples with your thumbs before dropping lower, smoothing soap across his abdomen. Kylo Ren tensed when you cleansed his stomach, and you glanced at him again. His pupils dilated--your fingers followed the line of his hip bones, inching toward his thighs, and he swallowed, shifting on his feet. You were getting close.

Licking your lips, you foamed more lather and shifted behind him, caressing suds into the powerful planes of his back. Here, you could see more scars, more war-made muscle, and you cleansed it all, digging into his shoulder blades, down his spine to his ass, squeezing handfuls of it--he tensed again. Keeping a giggle to yourself, you returned to face him, still juggling suds, and finally, finally dropped to your knees.

Kylo Ren’s thighs were just as large as the rest of him, big slabs of muscle smooth to your touch. He stared down at you, observing you with restrained desire, and you coasted over his quadriceps, the backs of his knees, his calves, rubbing up and down his flesh, all the while avoiding his cock. You marveled at him, at this marble-carved man, at the ripples under his skin as you kneaded over hard ridges of strength. Around you, the water faded to a translucent pink, filtering clear--you took the bar of soap a last time between your palms, placed it on the floor, and massaged a wide circle around his dick.

His legs and stomach tightened, and you smirked, keeping his focus and beginning at his hips, mouthing open, soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, moving closer while your soapy hand slipped over his length. Ren’s lips parted, and you did it again--a gentle graze of his shaft--and kissed his pubic bone, licking a stripe to the base of his cock. When you took it in your lathered fist, he gasped--you grinned, and started pumping it long, slow strokes.

A shuddered exhale escaped him, and you were spurred on, spreading your knees and continuing to kiss around the root, reveling when you felt him swelling and pulsing against your palm. You rolled your fingers around his shaft, cupped his balls, water washing bubbles to his feet, and you tickled the underside of his dick, making it twitch. With a grin, you wrapped him in your fist again, increasing your pace, letting him grow even harder in your hand--and Ren released a shaky, blissful breath. Celebrating an internal triumph, you peppered tiny kisses around the hilt of his cock before circling your thumb around the head, smearing precum into his skin.

“Don’t be coy, Supreme Leader,” you said. “I know you like that.”

He snatched your scalp, cranked your neck back into the water. “I don’t remember asking for your commentary.”

Wincing, you obliged him with a tight, languid stroke. “You’re right.” You squeezed his fully erect cock, wet and clean. He was even bigger up close. “I have a better idea.”

In one motion, you took the head in your mouth, dropping your jaw to seal your lips around it with a lewd moan. Ren strangled a gasp--you curled your fingers around the base of his dick, eyes trained on his while you swallowed his length inch by inch. He was thick, throbbing on your tongue, and you pressed it to his shaft as you pulled back, fist following your mouth’s lead. The dry rub of water scraped your grip, so you released him for a moment, locking with his gaze and dribbling a long line of saliva onto his dick. Ren gulped again, his amber irises hazy with lust, and you slicked him in preparation before sucking on the head of his cock.

Big hands coiled in your hair, and you groaned, pleased, twisting your wrist and bobbing back and forth on his length. His breath quickened, his grip tightened, and you whimpered, the ache between your legs burning you with desperation. But you were learning the rules--you already knew he would be serious about making you earn it. So you pressed your thighs together, another hand curving to grip his ass while you drooled and gagged on his cock.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Can you handle all of me in that little mouth?”

You hummed in agreement, taking him deeper, driving him into the wet heat of your throat--you wheezed, but fought through the tears, your gaze on his own, even as the spray of the shower fuzzed your sight. Fist moving faster, slippery with spit, you suckled in another inch, jaw sore from his size. You could only imagine how obscene you looked--dripping with water, salivating down your chin, tears stinging your eyes as you swallowed his dick.

It was incredible, getting to please him like this; since the very first time he’d fucked you, before you even knew his face, you’d dreamed of making his massive dick twitch and cum in your mouth. But now with the knowledge that this dick belonged to the Supreme Leader--you were intoxicated, your clit stiff and screaming for attention, your skin crackling with need. Yes, you needed to make this bastard cum, because you just as badly needed him to return the favor.

You tightened your fist, jerking him faster, and he yanked your hair, pushing your nose against the patch of hair at his groin. Ren fucked hard into your throat, and you heaved, writhed, sobbing onto his cock, both hands burrowing into his thighs as he pistoned his hips against your face. He panted through hoarse groans, his face flush, cheeks red, cock pulsing with an impending climax. Between clenched teeth, he growled, thrusting deep, gaze black and feral.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “that’s it…” He snapped his pelvis, and you retched, slobbering around his cock, clinging to his flesh. “Take my cum down your throat, tracinya. Fuck, take it--”

Kylo Ren suppressed a groan, rocked into your face, heavy cock throbbing and spilling the hot, salty loads of his release. You moaned, sucking it down, watching his chin tremble as you drained him through his climax, humming until he started to soften. Grunting, he slid out, untangled his fingers from your hair, and ruffled the wet fringe from his face before focusing on you. He scanned you: skin soaked, jaw sore, smugly satisfied. You’d certainly earned your reward, now.

“Good girl.” He pinched your chin, thumbed your swollen lip. “Come.”

He turned off the water and exited the shower, leaving you needy and clenching in the dewy air. Frowning, you stood, seething from the ache at your knees, and peered through the fog to spy the Supreme Leader toweling himself off before exiting the refresher. You mimicked him, drying yourself too, and trailed him with a grumble as he strode through his quarters, still entirely naked. A glimmer of hope when he arrived at his bed--until he reached into one of the closets at the side and started pulling on a pair of compression garments. You paused, folded your arms over your chest.

“Uh. Excuse me. Supreme Leader?”

“Hm.”

“Aren’t you. Y’know. Gonna make me cum?”

He huffed. “No.”

You gawked. “I’m sorry, what?” You paced over to him, feet sticky on the cold white floors. “You said you’d reward me.”

“No.” Ren was impassive. “I said I might reward you.” He grabbed a pair of pants, pulled those on, too. “Perhaps you’ll have better luck in the future.”

Gaping, you blinked, laughing in disbelief. You’d played by his stupid rules, worked to earn your place. Had you seriously done all of that just to have him deny you? Whatever game he was playing, it was frying your patience. He’d had you convinced from your trysts at work that he’d want you to have a good time, too--but perhaps he was just like every other man. A whirlwind of curses flew through your mind, in Basic and Mando’a, but you settled on a language that he didn’t understand.

“Ugh! Doompa wermo nek!” you snarled, stomping past him and flopping on his bed. “Oto to crispo chuba!”

For a moment, Ren did not respond, his silence a thickening cloud in the room. For that moment--that short, foolish moment--you felt as if you’d finally gotten one over on him, and a smile snuck onto your face. But it was only a moment.

“You want to kill me, hm?”

“Oh.” He spoke Huttese, too. Your heart sank. “Fuck.”

The Supreme Leader clucked his tongue--you could feel him behind you, footsteps drawing closer. Squealing, you hid your face in his sheets, moving to crawl away, but he seized your ankle and tore you from the mattress, flipping you onto your back. A burgeoning brute, he pounced, palms on either side of your head, wet hair flinging droplets onto your face. His eyes were simmering honey, prepared to boil, igniting a clamor between your thighs.

“Look at what we have here,” he murmured. “A schutta of many talents.”

You sighed. “What language don’t you speak?” you asked. “Di’kutla chakaar.”

Ren hovered closer, placed a knee on the mattress. “Mm, don’t think I heard you, tracinya.” A warm, strong hand moved to your throat, thumb pressing into the divot under your trachea. “What was that?”

His touch stoked the fire in your belly, the greed in his gaze inciting your own. Whatever game indeed. This was a revelation--the Supreme Leader hadn’t lied to you about there being rules. You had just misunderstood them. Certainly, there was a part of him that enjoyed your obedience. But there was clearly another, greater part that craved your defiance.

“I called you,” you replied, peeling the words from your teeth, “a stupid bastard.”

Kylo Ren smirked.

In a single breath, your wrists were gathered and tacked above your head, your legs spread open. And when you tried to move, you found you couldn’t, held by invisible bondage, paralyzed by the air. You thrashed, to no avail, pulse skipping in your veins--he observed you in satisfaction, attention wandering your vulnerable body. It was the same magic he’d used to make you cum, you were sure of it.

“What is this?” You tried to wriggle again, but it was useless.

Ren leaned back, smoothing his palms over your thighs. “This,” he said, “is how I get you to do whatever I want.”

“Oh?” An eager flicker in your chest. “And what exactly do you want?”

“You.” A hand stroked up, over the roll of your belly and down your hip, painting goosebumps across your skin. “Begging for my cock.”

You snorted. “After the stunt you just pulled?” you asked. “I’ve had enough of your cock. It won’t be that easy.”

Delight flashed over his face. “You’re right, kih tracinya.” A snap of his wrist, and your knees were thrown toward your stomach. “It’ll be even easier.”

Ren bent forward, palms gliding up and down your sides, and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your throat. You shuddered, a groan escaping, head rolling onto his sheets, and he growled, nipping at the thin tissue, mouthing more nibbles along your neck. His lips were soft--softer than you remembered when they’d been at your cunt--his tongue laving at every tiny mark he left behind, his hands gripping, squeezing at your stomach, drifting to your hips and to your thighs. The heat of his bare skin inspired your own, pleasure quaking through you, a building fissure in your flesh--when he dragged his teeth across your collarbone, you whimpered in need.

A hand left your hip, curled in your hair and tugged your head back. “Poor thing. Listen to you whine.” Ren peppered heated kisses along your jaw. “When was the last time you fucked a man who wasn’t behind a screen?”

It was difficult to speak through trembling breath. But you managed. “When was the last time you fucked a woman without using magic?”

Face still buried in your neck, he huffed--a low, dark sound in his chest. “You think I can’t break you without the Force?” Kylo Ren sank his teeth into the exposed column of your throat, and you wailed in pain. He dug in, forcing a shriek before he released you, speaking into your ear. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

The Force--you’d heard it referenced before, in passing. You’d just had no idea it was a real thing. And that this man was someone who could control it. As you’d thought it, he released you from its hold, but the ache at your neck had stymied any snark in your mind for the moment. He took the opportunity to bind your wrists with his sheets before standing back, admiring his handiwork. You gazed at him--your chakaar was wild with lust.

He grappled an ankle in each hand and tossed them over his shoulders. “This should be a familiar position for you,” he muttered, before attacking your neck again.

This time, he was savage, groaning as he sucked welts into your skin, grazing his teeth over your shoulder, biting mark after mark into the muscle. Though you squealed, yelped with pain, you relished it, ecstatic at the show of possession, impatient to see the patchwork of bruises gifted to you by the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Ren hunched over you, finding your breasts, crushing them in his grip--you gasped, but he continued, punishing your tits under his palms. Voracious, he moved to your sternum in a streak of saliva, thumb and forefinger tweaking your nipples in pinching bolts of pleasure.

“Ka’ra,” you gasped. “You’re a dirty bastard, aren--mmf!”

Ren had crammed two fingers in your mouth, shoving them to the back of your tongue. “Come again?”

Before you could protest, he took a nipple in his lips, the other still battered by his thumb, and suckled, tongue swirling around it, gentle moans escaping him. You whinged, trying to buck your hips, finding yourself pinned by his weight--arousal controlled you, your core contracting in a cry for something to fill it. He must have known this, too, from the way his hand floated across your belly and between your thighs, petting your folds with a tender touch.

You moaned onto him, eyes lolling back, overwhelmed; Ren was in your mouth, at your tits, teasing your pussy--he may as well have been in your head, hijacking your mind, making you yearn for his cock. He sucked your nipple fat between his teeth, and you returned the favor, wrapping your lips around his fingers; he rewarded you with a slight spread of your pussy, earning a squeak, tempting you to crack.

“Ready to beg?” A quick bite to your nipple, and you released a muffled squeal, shaking your head. “No?” He stroked your engorged clit--you howled. “Are you sure?”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he wiggled his hand further into your throat while he stroked your clit again, and again, thumb catching on the hood, slipping to your entrance before teasing more. You writhed, lids squeezing shut as you fought his hold, but his natural strength rivaled the Force--he caged you, a warden to your orgasm. He tapped your swollen nub, testing a tiny circle around it, and you sobbed, bounced your wrists against the bed, staving the urge to bite his fucking fingers.

“Needy slut,” he muttered. “I can feel how wet you are. How badly this cunt needs to get fucked.”

He continued to glance over your clit, making you throb, making your pussy scream for more. Another swift circle, and another, flooding you with bliss--and he stopped, back to feather-light touches. You wanted to burst, you sucked hard on his hand, skating your teeth over his knuckles in complaint. Growling, he relieved your clit for a split-second, only to spank your pussy with his palm. Pain and pleasure ruptured through your thighs, and you shrieked, gagged around him.

“You can’t help yourself,” he said, and spanked your cunt again. “You’re dripping for my cock.”

Perhaps it was the delirium--the potent cocktail of your need, his torture, the extended denial--but you fractured. And you nodded, agreeing with him.

A grunt of approval. “There we go.” His voice was filthy with victory.

You loved it.

“Dush, etyc kih tracinya.” Ren shifted, pulled his fingers from your mouth to splay your legs wide with his hands, dipping between them to kiss down your belly. “Sucking me off made you want to cum. Didn’t it?”

You nodded again. “Yes…”

“Yes?”

The bloated, heavy ache between your legs took rein of your tongue. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Mm. Good girl.”

The very same Supreme Leader rose to his feet, looming over you, displaying the huge, straining erection behind his pants. His eyes glued to yours while he pulled it free, circled his hand around its massive length, and you gazed at it, still agog. You supposed you’d never get used to how big he really was. Ren pumped himself once, twice, drinking you in, before shoving you further onto the bed and climbing over you.

His lips found your throat again, sucking softly at it. “Do you remember how I had to stuff myself in that little cunt?” he murmured. “How tight you were around me?”

Mouth dry, you replied, “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Good girl.” He propped your calves up on his shoulders, lowering himself to your entrance, taunting you with it. “And do you remember how good it felt to cum on me?”

“Yes,” you sputtered, growing frustrated, “yes, Supreme Leader.”

“And do you remember…” another false-thrust, another anticipatory clench. “... how you begged for me like a filthy little bitch?”

It took all of your power not to crack wise. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Humming, he nipped your ear. “Then beg for my cock.”

“Ka’ra!” You lost it. “Shut up and fuck me, chakaar!”

He clucked his tongue. “You were doing so well.”

Kylo Ren slicked the head of his dick on your juices before pushing in just an inch, sucking in air through his teeth as he enticed you with a hint of stretch. Staring at himself throbbing inside of you, he held it, and eased out, then driving back in by centimeters--prying into your cunt, giving you only a bit of bliss before stealing it away. He shook with self-control, drawing in more oxygen, hissing in pleasure at even the slightest squeeze from your core.

Whinging, you tried to jerk your hips to take more, but found it difficult with your ankles at his ears. Hair tumbling into his face, he slipped out, slid in again, giving you an inch each time, letting your walls clamp around the length that wasn’t there. Ren leaned up, allowing the both of you watch his hips roll, watch his thick, heavy cock push you open with its head and pull back out. Frustration turned to tears--the sight alone was enough to splinter you, but his steady breath, the agony of being empty, the twitching of your clit, all of it compounded. It made you break.

“Please,” you whispered, “please, Supreme Leader, please fuck me, please give me your cock.”

It was impossible to miss the arrogant shimmer in his eyes. “No.”

Your face fell. “What?”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, “and if you behave, I will make you cum.”

Hundreds, thousands of thoughts raced through your mind in that moment, most of them profane, all of them capable of getting you in trouble. Yes, you were learning the rules. And you knew the only way you’d be sated is if you played by them. Steeling your jaw, you met his gaze.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “Supreme Leader.”

Ren settled over you, nuzzling into your neck. “Jate, little flame,” he rasped. “Now take my cock.”

With a slow rock of his hips, he pushed in--millimeter by millimeter, digging you open, in and out, in and out, letting you feel every vein of his cock, every thump of his pulse as he drove deeper inside of you. You stilled your chest, trembling with blissful, beautiful pain, the sweet sting of being full, the addiction of being stretched. Kylo Ren seated himself, fully sheathed in your tight, slick cunt, exhaling as you clenched around him. Gritting his teeth, he dragged out, deserting you in the same, torturous fashion.

This was, you realized, your consequence. He was going to make you beg for him until the very end.

“Supreme Leader,” you said, grinding your wrists together. “Please, fuck me.”

He huffed. “No.” Another slow thrust in, stretching you again, and he caught a groan in his chest.

“Please,” you gasped. “Please, I want your cock.”

Leaning closer, smothering you with his frame, he glided out. “Too bad.”

“Please,” you said, as he stroked into you, wet and hot around his dick. “Please.”

“Beg all you want.” He shuddered when you squeezed him, his hips twisting into you. “Fuck.”

Sex with the Supreme Leader before had been incredible, sure. But the warmth, the strength, the size of his body over yours, the ability to feel his breath, his heartbeat, the rumble of his voice--incredible became inconceivable. Never had you imagined that you could ever be so aroused, so desperate. Never had you considered pleading and squirming through tears for the fill of cock. Never, through any of your antics, had you been this entranced by any single man.

But Kylo Ren truly was not just a man, you were learning.

He was also an utter bastard.

He was also still, despite it all, a corporeal god.

Ren’s rhythm continued to torment you, pumping slowly in and out of your pussy. You could only wince, inhale, and clench around his girth with each thrust--a strategy that seemed to work. Though his hips kept their pace, his breath quickened, his heart pounded, another groan stopped in his throat. Spurred on, you continued, constricting him, walls milking his dick, working him to his peak inside of your pussy.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Nasty fucking whore. You want me to cum in this cunt, don’t you?”

Lust tore through you. “Yes, Supreme Leader, yes, I want you to cum in me, please, please…”

“Fuck.” Ren slammed into you, jerked out, slammed in again. “Yes.” Another hard, brutal thrust, piercing your cervix, and you quailed. “Fuck. Watch me.” He panted, propped himself onto his palms, sliding out until just the head of his dick was buried in your core. “Watch me fill you.” A quick snap of his hips, and he choked, trapped a deep groan--and came.

His cock, swollen and flush and veiny with the promise of orgasm, jumped and twitched inside of you, a climax so intense it pulsed to his groin. He gasped, tensing with every wave of pleasure as he poured hot cum inside of you, a rapid throb of release. A few aftershock ripples, and it dissipated, his cock softening.

“That’s right.” Ren’s chin dropped to his chest, his lungs filled with satisfied air. Exhaling, he glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “I think you’ve earned it.”

In a smooth motion, he pulled out of you and tugged your ass to the edge of the mattress while he dropped to his knees on the ground. Sweat was a second skin, your arms strained, your heart ramming against your ribs. And you gaped, a mere spectator to two large hands wrenching your knees wide before the Supreme Leader dove face-first into your abused pussy.

The words that left you were nonsense, a multilingual damnation of his soft, skilled mouth. Ren devoured your cunt, staring into your eyes while he gathered his cum and your own on his tongue, gulping it down, his lips brushing your neglected clit. A feral, anguished cry escaped you, an appeal for mercy--you were so stirred, so edged that even the slightest attention to the nub hurled you near-orgasm.

“Fuck.” No other words would come to you. “Please. Fuck.”

Finally, benevolent god he was, Ren sucked your clit between his teeth. You screeched in ecstasy, head thrown back on the bed as he licked, lapped, suckled at it, humming at your flesh. He flicked the tip with his tongue, traced tight circles around it, and when your breath picked up in expectation of orgasm, a hand left your thigh, two fingers gliding easily into your core. You moaned, writhed in delight, and Ren crooked them inside of you, the intrusion forcing his cum and your own to drip onto the sheets. Like a starved animal, he abandoned your clit for only a minute to gather the creamy globs with his mouth.

“Supreme Leader,” you groaned, “ka’ra…”

Smirking, he swallowed, sealed his plush lips around your throbbing clit, and sucked. Pleasure commandeered your brain, shutting out rationality, logic, reality itself. Thick fingers curled in your pussy, and you spasmed around him while he groaned against you. The vibration of his voice ricocheted to your thighs, and you cried out, soaring higher, higher, until you were at the peak, a witless body suspended in space. A twist of his hand, a lave of his tongue, and you ascended.

A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the walls of Ren’s quarters. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunted for air while he suckled you through the receding tide of your release. You felt your cunt quivering at his face, felt the mixture of cum at his chin, and you drifted to full consciousness, lids flitting open.

Ren smacked his lips, standing and wiping his face. At some point, he’d tucked himself away. He scanned your panting, exhausted figure before reaching over you and freeing your wrists from his sheets. A groan of relief fled you, and you winced when you dragged your arms down to rub away the fatigue.

Seeing this, the Supreme Leader took your wrists in his own hands, encircling them with ease, and massaged his thumbs where you’d been bound. Your breath skipped, your eyes widened--he did not look at you, did not acknowledge this gesture was his own, even as he adjusted his grip to rub the opposite side of your joints. When he was finished, he glimpsed you for a shooting-star-second--and released you, letting all of you sink into his bed as he paced to his closet.

“You are mine.” He said this while he clothed himself. “Expect to travel with me. Expect to serve me.” His voice was empty. Dead. “Expect me to use you however I please.”

You arched your head back and gazed through the transparisteel, the galaxy appearing just as infinite and enigmatic from this angle as it did from any other. This view, a comfortable bed, a real refresher, and the attention of the Supreme Leader of the First Order? You could be fine with that.

More than fine with that.

“Tracinya.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” you said. “I understand.”

As Ren continued to dress, you hoisted yourself onto a pillow, pulled the covers over you. He still hadn’t told you if you could sleep there, but he hadn’t stopped you, either. After a moment, he crossed to you, boots striking the floor, and a gloved grip pinched your shoulder like a handle, turning you to face him. His hair was still half-dry.

“You’re learning the rules well.” He thumbed your lip.

For some strange reason, you blushed. “Only the most sincere effort for you, chakaar.”

He huffed. “Good girl,” he said. “Welcome home.”

Then he turned and left you there, climbing the steps, his footfalls disappearing into the air.

Four words this time, fizzing your blood with glee--home. You wanted to encapsulate this feeling, inject it daily, like a drug. Sighing, content, you stared into the stars, your sterling sentinels. Nevarro was as distant in your memory as it was in space. For now, you belonged to the Supreme Leader. For now, you’d never felt more pleased.

[tmariea]

New Constellations

Written for the ATLA Big Bang 2020!! Hosted by @atla-bigbang

Rating: T

Type: Gen

Summary: "Every star in the sky is another sun somewhere out there, farther away than we could ever imagine."

When Zuko is banished from the Fire Nation, he leaves with a ship, an impossible task, and a newfound fear of his own element. As he's offered the chance to learn navigation by the stars and the myths that weave constellations into the sky, he has a chance too, to learn how to appreciate fire once more and how to look at the world in a different light.

Warnings: panic attacks, anxiety attacks, off-screen character death, grief, healing wounds

Much thanks to @cianidix and her amazing artwork, make sure to check it out!!  And to @vandrell for cheer reading and aiyah, constellayetion, and burnt_oranges over on AO3 for their dedicated beta work!!

Chapters: 1 of 2

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Three weeks out from the Western Air Temple, twenty one days of sailing away from the islands that Zuko had always called home, he woke in a cold sweat.  This wasn’t a rare occurrence these days.  These nights when he’d jolt awake in his hard metal ship’s cabin, face aching, feeling like he was tearing apart at the seams from dreams of Father’s hands, of Azula’s pleased laughter as she had watched Father read the proclamation of his banishment.

Zuko had gotten used to turning toward the wall and curling into himself, where he would tremble either until he dropped back into a fitful, exhausted sleep, or the rising sun would beat him to it.  Tonight something extra roiled in his stomach; maybe the fish they had eaten for dinner wasn’t agreeing with him.  He levered himself out of bed and stumbled toward the door.  A turn of the crank, and he was out into the dark hallway.  There were no windows here to cast light on his unsteady steps, and so he continued until he hit the wall, slumped into it, and turned right.

Why don’t you make a light for yourself, firebender?   The voice in his head sounded a lot like Father, and was just as demanding, just as disappointed.  His stomach gave another unsteady lurch, and he had to stop for a moment and hunch over in the corridor as he fought for control over his breath.  Finally, Zuko moved forward again, shuffling along with his shoulder to the wall until he came to the doorway out onto deck.

The door swinging forward was a visceral relief, as the cool night air hit his face.  Zuko slipped out and let it shut quietly behind him.  He didn’t even spare a thought for if any of the crew might be watching as he dashed to lean over the railing near the prow.  Here the wind chilled the sweat that had collected at the edges of his bandage, and his stomach finally settled as he breathed in the scent of salt air slowly.

He felt better out here in the cool and the dark, where no one could look at him, or if they did, where he couldn’t see the looks on their faces.  The stars trailed thick and bright down to the horizon to meet the water, broken here and there by the dark shape of a cloud.  This was better.  Looking at the stars didn’t hurt.

Wanting to be beneath the night sky, firebender?  When your fire is at its lowest?  Disgraceful.

There was a flash of cloying heat through his core as he started to tremble.  It started in his lungs and spread outward, his breath came raggedly with no chance of control this time.  That was right, wasn’t it - Zuko was a disgrace as a prince, a son, a firebender.  Disgraced dishonored no fire no home no hope.  He clung to the rail as he slipped down to his knees.  He pressed the right side of his forehead to the metal, feeling the cold from the point of contact, and the pulsing pain as his skin stretched.

The waves washed against the metal of the hull, the stars wheeled overhead, and some time later Uncle came to gather him up and bring him back to his cabin.  He didn’t even have the energy to answer Uncle’s questions, much less yell at the crew members who had undoubtedly alerted him.

He could still see the window from his bed, and the stars beyond.  Uncle stayed with him, a hand over his as he sat beside him in silence as the stars slowly faded into dawn, and Zuko finally dropped off to sleep

Zuko lost a few days to fever after the incident on deck, as his already strained and healing body was overwhelmed.  Only another week later, Uncle looked up at him over breakfast and suggested, “Prince Zuko, I believe it may be time to resume your fire bending training.”  He ran hot and cold all over again, but did his best to keep it off his face.  He knew, he knew, that he was supposed to be able to do this.  If he didn’t he was a failure.

If nothing else though, perhaps he could delay.  “I don’t think I should be firebendending with a big wad of flammable bandaging on my face.”

“I never knew you to be quite so concerned with safety nephew,” Iroh mused, with an expression that was far too knowing for Zuko’s liking.  He continued, “No matter, I agree that it might be too soon to run katas or practice sparing.  We will start with meditation.”

There was no good excuse Zuko could think of in response to that.  He managed a small nod, and then tuned out the rest as Uncle began to go on about needing a strong foundation in the basics.

Later that same day he found himself sitting across from Uncle in his quarters, posture ramrod straight like all his previous teachers had insisted on, hoping the tension in his back would prevent him from flinching.  He had to do this.

“I believe it will be best to return to the very basics.  For both you and me; it’s been some time since we practiced together,” Uncle spoke softly, already readying himself for meditation.

Zuko tried to think about the last time he meditated with Uncle Iroh.  It must have been before Uncle left for Ba Sing Se, when Zuko was just learning to meditate to a flame for the first time.  By the time he had returned, Zuko had been expected to have the skill and discipline to manage his own daily meditation.  The memory was still there, though, of the first time – together they sat cross-legged on the floor in a sitting room on the ground floor of the palace.  The doors were thrown open wide and the summer’s heat and the sound of whirring cicadas drifted on the wind.  Uncle had told him to feel the warmth on his skin, to hear the rhythms of the world around them but let them flow away.  Then he had held up a small flame in his hands and asked Zuko to breathe to its rise and fall –

Uncle’s next words drew him back to the present, “I would like you to make the flame, and I will walk us through a basic sequence.”

As he remembered, Zuko had forgotten to maintain the tension in his back.  So he was unprepared to catch himself as his eye widened and mouth contorted into a grimace.  “I’m not a child, Uncle.  I can meditate without your guidance,” he said with more vitriol than he truly intended.

Uncle Iroh didn’t rise to the bait, only held out a hand in an ‘after you’ gesture.

Zuko cupped his palms together, pressing the sides of his hands together tightly to stop them from shaking.  He couldn’t tell Uncle that he couldn’t do this, but it wasn’t as if it mattered; he would see for himself.  How can you call yourself worthy to be a Prince of the Fire Nation the voice in his head that sounded like Father sneered, and the rest of him could hardly help but agree.  It was as if every time he thought about his inner fire, about producing a flame – just a small one Zuko can you not even do that? – his mind skittered away, blank and unable to hold onto the intention.  The space above his palms remained cold and empty.

Finally Iroh let out a mighty sigh.  Zuko dropped his hands and looked up to see a frown on Uncle’s face.  “For today we will change places, then.”  He lifted a hand and a small fire flicked into existence, no larger than a candle flame and so tightly controlled that it barely wavered.

It didn’t matter.

Zuko felt heat roar from his head and down his arms, down through his stomach.  It was a sickly, scalding kind of heat that left tremors in its wake and tightened his lungs in its grasp.  He scrambled to his feet and stumbled backwards, not stopping until he hit the metal wall of the cabin.  It was cold and hard against his back, comforting and terrifying in equal measure; there was nowhere else he could go.  The rest of his senses caught up with his rabbiroo-quick heartbeat, and he focused immediately on Uncle’s face, searching for his reaction.

Uncle had put out the flame, and at first only looked shocked.  Then his expression contorted into worry – and why wouldn’t it?  A crowned prince who wouldn’t bend, who tried to run from his element?  But there was no anger.  Zuko watched and waited silently, waiting for the anger, but it never came.

Uncle Iroh broke the silence first.  “Prince Zuko, we need to talk about this.”

Zuko’s heart sped up again, and his limbs tensed to back away further, but he was out of space.  Instead he shook his head vehemently, before catching himself and snapping, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I believe that there is.”

He screwed his face up into the most impressive glare he could manage with only one eye and leveled it at Uncle Iroh, willing him to back down.  Uncle failed to look intimidated or impressed, only shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable.

There was a lump forming in Zuko’s throat.  He couldn’t do it, couldn’t, couldn’t let the words out that he was afraid and a failure and doomed to never reclaim his honor.  If he did they’d be real.  He swallowed hard, clenched his jaw until he was sure he wouldn’t start crying, and then tried one last time.  “Uncle, please.”

Uncle Iroh sighed, and Zuko couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders slumped as he did.  “Alright.  Another day then.  But, Prince Zuko, when I say another day I do mean that.  I’ll leave you to collect yourself.  But will you join me on deck for tea in a little while?”

There was nothing Zuko could do but give a small, tight nod.  He watched as Uncle stood with a groan and a joking mumble about old joints, before he left the room.  He watched until the door closed and the latch spun shut, and then sank down the wall and let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The night after the bandages came off, six weeks away from home, Zuko crept back out onto deck again.  This time, he didn’t have any bad dreams as excuse.  At least that meant that he felt less frayed at the edges than the last time, if only just.  It meant he could dart from the shadows near the door to the catapult platform, and finally out to the railing, hoping no crew would be the wiser to their addition to the night watch.

He settled himself into a cross-legged seat and turned his face up to the sky, a mirror from earlier in the afternoon.  He had come out to the deck after Uncle had told him he wouldn’t need to reapply the bandage to his eye.  He had wanted to feel the sun on his face, his whole face.

He hadn’t expected it to feel like he was burning again.

The sound of the wind and the waves was barely audible over the rumble of the engine, but he could feel the cool night air on his cheeks and imagine the spray.  Even during the daytime, he was accustomed to the breeze off the water cutting the warmth of the sun.  He had been unprepared for his healing wound to feel like it was suffused with unbearable heat.

After he had ducked inside, after Uncle had found him and sat quietly with him until his breathing evened out again, the ship’s medic had explained that burn wounds and scars were more susceptible to sunburn than the rest of his skin.  That was all, nothing more, it was perfectly normal.  Just like the fact that sounds from the left were muffled now and sight badly blurred, creating a dizzying distortion when he tried to use both eyes.  Just perfectly normal.

Zuko had spent the rest of the afternoon pacing his cabin like a caged tiger-dillo, resenting sunlight for the first time he could remember, and Uncle and the medic for not warning him before he went outside.

But here in the dark it was only coolness, and looking back towards the tower of the ship it wasn’t as if he would be able to make out details with two good eyes anyway.  Lately, the night sky had been so much kinder to him.

Zuko settled his hands on his knees and took a deep breath in and held it for a count of six seconds before letting it back out again.  He could still do meditation breathing exercises even if he couldn’t manage a flame.  He was only sometimes good at letting thoughts and sensations come and go, but tonight he sank into it with the relief of a moment to just stop thinking.

So much so that he didn’t notice that he had company until the light of a lantern fell on his face.

If asked later, Zuko did not jump, nor did he eye the lantern warily before reminding himself that the fire was contained behind glass.  Perfectly safe and separate.  The sailor holding the lantern looked really no different from the rest.  Standard issue armor, clean shaven face, dark hair in a top knot.  Zuko had been told names on his first day, but he didn’t remember any of them.  He could blame being delirious with fever and pain, but it sounded like too much effort to make excuses when he just didn’t care.

“Prince Zuko, I didn’t expect to meet you out here,” the sailor said, and gave a reasonably deep bow.  He did not shape the flame as he was holding an odd assortment of scrolls and books, a writing kit, and some kind of metal contraption under his arm, in addition to the lantern.

Zuko drew his back up as tall as he could make himself and tilted his chin up in a way that he hoped would appear as if he was looking down his nose at this interloper, despite the fact that he was still sitting in casual robes directly on the metal deck.  “State your business, sailor,” he said.

“I am ship’s Navigator Zhu Yan, sir.  I am here to confirm our course towards the Northern Air Temple.  My apologies if I disturbed you; I did not expect to find anyone else out here.”

Zhu Yan did not leave immediately as Zuko would have preferred, and it took him a moment to realize that the sailor was waiting for either another question or a dismissal.  “As you were.”

The man bowed again, and headed for a small table which was set up a short ways away and started unloading the contents of his arms.  Zuko considered going back to his meditation but the movement in the left side of his vision kept drawing his attention.  He had become unused to seeing anything from that side.  Now it was only just too blurred to be able to make out what Zhu Yan was doing through the night’s darkness, but the lantern light flashed off of something on the table as he moved it.

Thoughts of meditation abandoned, Zuko turned his head to see what was catching the light.  It was some kind of circular contraption made of metal that Zhu Yan set down before he flipped through several pages of a book on the table.  He then wrote something on a scroll before picking up the contraption again to look through it.

The next time he placed the contraption down, he glanced toward Zuko and called, “I would be happy to answer any questions you have, sir.”

Zuko could feel the heat in his cheeks; he wasn’t supposed to be caught staring like some commoner.  His traitor mouth didn’t seem to care, as he blurted out, “Why are you navigating at night?” and then twisted his lips into a tight frown before he could ask anything else.  Tsk tsk Zuzu that sounds like a stupid question.

Zhu Yan seemed to pay no mind as his face lifted into a smile, as if completing a pair of opposing theater masks.  “There are several navigational methods approved for use by the Fire Nation Navy,” he began, as if he was reciting a set of instructions verbatim, “I am trained foremost in celestial navigation.  I am proficient in navigating by the sun, but I prefer to navigate by the stars.”

A citizen of the Fire Nation who would eschew the sun for the stars?  Zuko’s first instinct told him it wasn’t supposed to be like that, and his second reminded him that he had been just the same lately.  He looked up at the sky, and felt a sting in his heart that with both eyes open the stars blurred into an indistinct curtain of darkness and faint light.  He closed his left eye and breathed out in resignation as the stars condensed back into their own focused points.

“Do you enjoy the stars as well, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko hardly knew how to name his strange mix of feelings on the matter, so he simply nodded.  He could tell that Zhu Yan watched him for a few minutes more, waiting for the next question that never came.  Eventually, the navigator turned back to his task, and Zuko watched until it seemed like he was engrossed enough to slip away without notice.

Uncle Iroh cornered Zuko over dinner the next evening again.  He was starting to get the feeling that he should start taking meals in his own quarters.  Currently Uncle was waiting expectantly after saying, “Navigator Zhu Yan said the two of you spoke last night.”

This was a fact.  This was not a question.  Thus, Zuko didn’t feel bad at all about leveling a stare at Uncle and waiting until he got the hell to his point.

Iroh sighed gustily, disappointed that Zuko hadn’t taken the bait, and said, “He’s offered to teach you navigation if that is something you might have an interest in.”

“Why would I have any interest in learning navigation?  I’m here to find and capture the Avatar, not become a naval officer.”

“It does the mind good to pursue different skills, Prince Zuko.  After all, the flower that draws no nutrients from the soil will never bloom.”

Zuko groaned and fought the urge to bury his head in his hands.  “I don’t particularly care.  I’m not interested.”

“I will let Navigator Zhu Yan know that is your decision,” Uncle said, and turned back to his dinner with the kind of nonchalance that left Zuko incredibly suspicious.  He set down his chopsticks and waited for the other sandal to drop.  Iroh took another bite of fish stew and chewed contentedly before continuing.  “Of course, if the Avatar has managed to hide himself for 112 years, I would suspect he has quite mastered the skill.”

This time, Zuko gave into the impulse to smack himself in the face.  He immediately bit down on his tongue to hold back a whimper as his still-tender scar protested the rough treatment.  “Fine,” he snapped.

“Wonderful!” Uncle exclaimed in that booming voice of his that he liked to use when he got his way.  “Zhu Yan has said you can start as soon as this evening if you wish.”

They did not start that night, because this was Zuko’s ship and he was the one who gave the orders of when he wanted things done.  They did start the following night, because Uncle had given him a silent disappointed look that morning.

Several hours after sunset, after most of the crew except the night watch were off duty for the night, Zuko walked out on deck to find that Zhu Yan had already set up at the small table from the last time, but now with the addition of an extra cushion.  He stood as he heard Zuko approaching and bowed with a smile.  “Prince Zuko, good evening!  I’m glad you were interested in learning more about navigation.  Shall we sit?”

Zuko nodded his permission and settled at the table, with his new teacher following across from him.  There was barely a beat of silence before Zhu Yan began.  “To start, we have several tools that are the most commonly used.  Of course, we do have our standard maps,” he patted a few piled scrolls, “and then the star chart maps as well.”

The star charts seemed to be in the large bound book that Zuko had noticed the last time they spoke.  Despite himself, he was curious about maps of the stars; he’d never seen anything like it before.  He scowled at Zhu Yan as he seemed to pick up on his interest and flipped through the book until he found a map.  He turned the book in Zuko’s direction and pushed it closer so he could see a page with an inked black circle filled with dots and connecting lines.  There was a pull of curiosity in Zuko’s chest that made him want to look up and see if he could see any of the patterns for himself, but he bit his tongue.

“Each map will show the constellations visible in the sky from a given place and a given time of year.  They travel across the sky each night like the sun does during the day, but they do move by the seasons as well.  The constellations we can see in the fall are different than the ones we can see in the spring, and so forth, which is why the book is quite large.”

Zhu Yan flipped through a few pages, showing the names of places and the times of year they corresponded to.  Zuko recognized that the maps had a certain kind of beauty, but each looked so much like the last, and so many of the beautiful things he’d known had proved useless.  He didn’t think he was dedicated enough to try to learn the difference between one map and another, when he still had doubts that it would help him find the Avatar.  Instead, he pointed to the device which had caught his attention the last time they spoke.  It was a brass circle, empty in the center except for four spokes and an arm attached to the center which could spin.  “What’s that?”

“That is an astrolabe.  With it we can measure the angle of a set of stars to the horizon, and use that to determine our current location and where we need to go.  I thought we might leave that for later, though, since it does require some calculations.”

“How would you navigate if not with the tool for it?” Zuko asked, scowling in confusion.

“When in familiar waters, you can navigate by knowing the stars and their place in the sky, without even needing to use astrolabes or mathematics, the same way people have navigated for generations before us.  I thought it might be more enjoyable to start there, by learning some of the stars and the constellations they belong to, since I find it easiest to know them by their stories.”

Zuko didn’t understand.  The way he had always been told, new instruments and technology was supposed to make a task better, make the Fire Nation better.  “Those tools must have been invented in the Fire Nation, right?”  From everything he’d been taught about other nations, they had nothing remotely advanced enough.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Then why would you want to use an old outdated method?” Zuko asked, tension building in his voice.

“It’s always worth keeping a good tradition alive, I think.  It connects us to our history and our ancestors.  I find our myths to be quite an enjoyable tradition, so I like to fall back on them when I can.”

“We made something better, so why would you want to go backwards?”  He’d always been taught that the Fire Nation was the smartest, most advanced nation in the world.  That it was their duty to bring their greatness, their prosperity, their advancements to everyone else.  What did it mean that even their own people chose to still follow old ways?

Of course you would ask these questions, it is only fitting for one without honor.

Zuko stared at his hands, clenching into fists so tight he could feel his nails digging in to try to ward off the drop in his stomach that the voice in his head always caused.  He nearly didn’t hear when Zhu Yan responded.

“I don’t see it as going backwards.  I find it valuable to learn both, and to learn the best situations to apply each.  Besides, while the astrolabe does provide greater mathematical accuracy, you can see at many ports of call that other sailors are still successful using only the star charts and stories.”

Other sailors.  If only the Fire Nation had this technology, Zhu Yan was implying that sailors from other nations could still be equal to them.  That couldn’t be true, it couldn’t.  Zuko leapt to his feet, refusing to follow that thought any further.  “Our progress is what makes the Fire Nation great!  How can you choose to ignore that?  I won’t learn it.”  He made sure not to look back at Zhu Yan’s expression as he stormed back to the inside of the ship.

The next time Uncle Iroh decided to press the issue of meditation, he arrived at the door to Zuko’s cabin with an unlit candle and a set of spark rocks.  The wash of shame that coursed through Zuko’s body was so intense he thought for a moment that he would be sick.  “I don’t need that.  Go away!” he shouted.

However, he wasn’t willing to slam the door in Uncle’s face, which left him to watch as Uncle came into the room anyway and set the candle and rocks down on the low table.

“Sit,” Iroh told him in a voice that brokered no argument.

Zuko sat stiffly on his knees, feeling hot and cold all at once at the memory of the last time they had tried.

“As your current firebending master, I don’t believe that is an acceptable answer.  Many soldiers who have been wounded in battle have found they needed to begin from the ground up.  I have even employed this method in the past with some of them personally.”

“I wasn’t wounded in battle,” Zuko snapped.  “I was taught a lesson because I’m a disgrace.”  That’s right, you have no claim to anything honorable soldiers do.

“Regardless of if you were on a battlefield or not, you were done harm by firebending.  If you are determined to regain your skills, I would like you to try this.”

Zuko nodded, tight lipped.  No matter how much he denied it, he still felt the bite of anxiety as Uncle picked up the spark rocks.  It must have shown in his face because Uncle said, “Take a breath, Prince Zuko.  This fire won’t be under anyone’s control.  The only fuel it has is the candle wick, and it cannot leave that.  It cannot hurt you.  Say it please.”

“The candle won’t hurt me,” Zuko repeated with as little feeling as possible, scowling at the ridiculous request.  He knew that.  He had been around candles and lanterns since, it was fine.  He did know that, so why was it so hard to feel it?

“It’s a start.”  Uncle struck the spark rocks.

Zuko bit the inside of his lip hard as the small flame came into being on the wick.  He had still flinched, but at least this time he hadn’t been sent reeling back into the wall.

Uncle’s smile was big, bigger than Zuko felt he deserved.  “Very good.  I want you to watch the flame as I walk us through the sequence, and we’ll go from there.  Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, fine.”  Zuko readjusted his seat into a relaxed lotus position and took a big breath in, eyes on the natural flicker of the candle flame.  “Let’s start.”

Zuko paced up and down the hallway that led to the deck, tense with frustration.  Just the same as Uncle Iroh had been willing to hear no argument about meditation practice, he similarly had insisted that he did not give up on learning navigation.  Zuko didn’t want to continue.  He saw no point in learning from someone who disregarded the greatness of the Fire Nation.  That would not help him regain his honor.

He’d told Uncle as much, had thought that was a good argument.  Why should he listen to someone so dedicated to something old and outdated, something which should have been left behind?  Uncle had only said that meant they needed to reach a compromise.  He had also insisted on an apology.

Zuko pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead and tilted his head up towards the ceiling with a groan.  He did not want to apologize.  Why should he have to apologize for defending the greatness of their nation?  It wasn’t his fault the navigator had backwards ideas!  But Uncle would be upset with him if he didn’t, so he didn’t have much choice but to push open the door and head out onto the deck where Zhu Yan was seated at his normal table.

Zuko stopped a reasonable distance away, in case Zhu Yan was angry with him, and said, “Lieutenant.”

The man looked up from his work, the expression on his face made unreadable by the light and shadow from the lantern.  Zuko couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.  He swallowed against the sudden twisting in his stomach and bowed with the flame.  “General Iroh has suggested I should apologize for causing you offense and walking out on our lesson,” he said stiffly, words he’d been rehearsing in his head all evening.

“Thank you for your apology, but it is unnecessary Prince Zuko.  I’ve been called sentimental by plenty of men before.”

Zuko was sure he had said worse things than ‘sentimental,’ but there had been a small part of him that had worried how Zhu Yan would react, which was now breathing a quiet sigh of relief.  He barreled forward, “I’ll keep learning navigation, but only if you teach me the astrolabe and the calculations.”

“That I can do.  Would you like to sit?”

“Another night.”  He wasn’t sure that he was up for much more.  He waited for Zhu Yan to nod his acknowledgement before turning back toward the hold.

He did hold to his word and return the next night, and then a few nights a week after.  Zhu Yan was proficient in the new methods, proven as they successfully arrived at the Northern Air Temple, and then turned sights towards the Eastern.  The new methods also did prove to be a lot of numbers and memorization.  Even without the stories, Zuko still needed to memorize stars and constellations and charts.

Zhu Yan kept to his word about leaving it at that for a few weeks.  The first story happened to coincide with when Zuko was struggling to remember a particular constellation.  He could never remember the shape of the two triangles that came together at a point, almost like an hourglass, or how to find it in the sky.  He had nearly reached the point of giving up looking for it when Zhu Yan began, “When the world was young and spirits roamed the world freely, there was a spirit named Ezi.”

Zuko clenched his jaw against the sudden rush of irritation.  Even if he didn’t care about stupid spirit tales, at least if he said nothing it would get him out of searching skies and maps that were starting to blur even in his good eye.  He turned a page in the star chart book and did his best to look absorbed in it as Zhu Yan continued.

“Ezi lived beneath the earth and sea; she was the heart of the fires within the world, the heat that gave them life.  She watched over the swirling currents of molten stone, yellow like sulfur and orange like the sunset and deep red like a ripe chili pepper.  This was her artwork and her design, a dance and an ever-moving painting all in one.

“While Ezi thought her own works of art must be the most beautiful in the world, she still loved the stories she heard from the Earth whenever she drew new pieces of stone into herself and melted them into her grand work.  The Earth showed her the shapes of crystals and the outlines of plants and animals that had become marks in stone.  It also told her of other spirits, of Air, and especially the Ocean.  The Earth said that the Ocean had currents that danced just like hers.

“Ezi was overcome with jealousy and curiosity.  How could this Ocean create something comparable to her own work?  She begged the Earth for more stories, and it brought them with every new rock that she folded into herself.  She learned that the Ocean was so cool to the touch that creatures could live within it, could add colors she had never even known existed.  She listened to stories of grand structures of coral, which looked like stone but was a living creature.  She learned that the Ocean could even take images and reflect them back on its surface.  

“Soon, Ezi became obsessed with the Ocean, began to dream of things she had only ever known as fleeting shadows or whispered tales.  Soon, it was enough that she hardly had attention for her own dance, and she decided she had to see the Ocean for herself.  She begged the Earth to help her reach the Ocean, and the Earth drew her to a place where it grew thin and brittle.  

“Ezi sent her currents through the cracks until they met something like she had never felt before.  It was nearly freezing, and wet and unknown.  She rushed forward to catch a glimpse of where she had finally met the Ocean, but it only lasted a second.  As the temperature dropped, she felt all the bits of stone and metal slip from her grasp as her heat could only keep them warm enough to dance for so long.  It wasn’t enough.  Ezi gathered more currents and pushed further until she touched the water again, looked at the ocean floor for the briefest second.  This time, there was movement, a creature she recognized from prints in stone but this was more than just an image, and moved faster and more gracefully than her own currents.  

“Ezi knew then that she couldn’t stop.  Every time her warm currents met the cold ones of the Ocean they fell from her grasp, and every time she gathered more to push on for just one more look, for just one more chance to take in a different kind of masterpiece.  She kept working, kept moving up through the bits of Earth that solidified into a mountain under the water, until one day there was no more Ocean left around her.  Instead, for the first time, she met the air, and there learned that she could look down on the Ocean and its constant dance still.  To this day, Ezi still takes advantage of any chance to see more of the Ocean, and any time she finds a place where her currents can dance between, she leaves behind a new kind of artwork.”

“What’s the point of the story then?  Why should I care about some spirit that made a volcano however many years ago that’s supposed to be?  It’s not relevant to me,” Zuko snapped.

Zhu Yan’s face took on an expression like the owlcat that got the cream.  Zuko did not have a good feeling about that look.  “Well, I know you are good at finding the Ocean constellation, yes?  This story helps us remember that the constellation for Ezi can always be found beneath the Ocean.”

Zuko let out a frustrated growl, stood from the table and left without another word.

They fell into a routine as Zuko’s first summer away from home came to a close.  Zhu Yan continued to supervise Zuko as he worked on his measurements and calculations, ready to offer correction or advice.  Whenever he felt the silence had stretched too long (a far shorter period than Zuko would consider an unbearable silence), he would point out a new constellation and launch into another wild spirit tale of how men built the first boats from grand turtle shells, how great hunters and warriors had been immortalized in the sky, or how the spirit of justice dispensed her judgements from behind an impartial porcelain mask.  Zuko would keep his head in the maps, and when Zhu Yan would look back for his reaction once the story ended, he would resolutely scowl or roll his eyes to remind him that all of this was unworthy of a Fire Nation Prince and the advancement of their civilization.  Eventually, Zhu Yan stopped looking, and Zuko stopped having to pretend he hated the tales.

Sometimes, he even enjoyed them.

One evening Zhu Yan began, “Prince Zuko, have you ever heard the tale of how the constellation The Dragon came to be in the sky?”

Zuko looked up from his page of numbers to see Zhu Yan standing near the railing, eyes on the horizon, no doubt looking for the constellation which had prompted the question.  “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Ah, you know me too well.”  Zhu Yan turned around and leaned back on the railing so he could be heard over the waves against the hull of the ship and began, “When the world was young, dragons were tasked with the guardianship of fire, just as the badgermoles were to preside over earth, or sky bison the air.  For many generations they kept their elements only to themselves, until there was born a dragon named Druk.

“Druk was a curious and energetic dragon when he was young, always quick to ask questions or think of grand new games.  As he grew, his curiosity became cunning and a penchant for trickery.  Druk could be counted on to cajole any dragon into giving him the best parts of their hunt, or to sneak away with the best treasures, especially when they didn’t belong to him.  He could convince anyone of the wildest, most unlikely stories, and be counted upon to be laughing from an inconspicuous distance whenever there was trouble.

“But if there was one thing that Druk loved more than a good trick, it was humans.  He tired easily of dragons, who lived their long lives so slowly.  Humans, for all that their lives were simple when the race was young, lived with such urgency and bravery.  They had no wings or claws or teeth, but they built tools and took on the most improbable challenges.

“More often than not, Druk watched the humans fail.  Although they tried so hard, they were so fragile.  Other beasts would stalk them in the dark, they would fall easily to the cold or they would succumb to illness from raw food.  So Druk went to the elder dragons and petitioned that they should give some of their fire to humans.

“The council told him that humans were too young and too small to be trusted with such a great responsibility.  After all, fire requires control to wield without causing harm, and the elders did not believe the humans would be able to do this.  They forbade Druk from giving fire to humans, and warned that the consequences of every trick he’d ever played would come back on him doubled if he disobeyed them.

“Druk went away from the meeting, not defeated but scheming.  He thought for weeks, wondering how he could get out from under the watchful eyes of the elders, who had hardly let him out of their sight since.  Finally, he came upon the idea for a race.

“Not only was Druk confident that he was the cleverest dragon, he also believed he was the most nimble too.  He proposed the idea, as something to occupy himself with if he could not go to the humans anymore, then spent the next weeks leading up to the race planting a word here or there that the elders had gotten so old and slow.  How he doubted they could even get off the ground anymore.  If there is one truth about dragons, it is that they are vain, and so just as Druk had planned, every elder was lined up at the start on the day of the race.

“The dragons took to the sky with a mighty roar and rush of wind from their wings.  The elders were larger than Druk and he knew they could outfly him in time.  So instead he twisted and turned in the air, darting here and there, under and over wings and tails and long dragon bodies, all the while taunting the racers to follow him and beat him if they could.  When Druk was finished, all of the other racers had tied themselves into a grand knot of dragons that sunk clumsily to the ground.  Druk laughed as he sped across the finish line and beyond, finally free to grant his fire to humans so they could keep themselves safe and warm.

“Between his tricks and cleverness, Druk was able to stay with humans and teach them what he knew of fire.  He was amazed at the things they began to create – strong tools and bricks for their homes, delicious food, beautiful glass and pottery.  But as with all things, Druk’s luck came to an end.  When the dragons found him, they debated what his punishment should be, and decided that he should have to live as far from humans as possible.  And such, with the help of the spirits who had first entrusted dragons with fire, Druk was placed as a constellation in the sky.  When his judgement was passed down, he only laughed, for this was fit for his last and greatest trick.  Although he would be far apart from humans, he could still watch them from the sky for eternity.”

As per their silent agreement, Zhu Yan turned back towards the sea when he was finished with the story, leaving Zuko behind him staring at the constellation and imagining it dancing in the sky.  The picture stayed with him all through the rest of the lesson, and in his dreams, he saw dragons shaping metal and glass with their breath.  The next morning at meditation practice, Zuko was still absorbed in wishing he could have met the dragons.  He hardly noticed that Uncle Iroh had lit the candles with his own fire rather than the spark rocks, until the same moment that he realized he hadn’t flinched away.

By the time autumn had begun to march on towards winter, Zuko was gaining some level of confidence that he could identify most constellations in the sky, could measure them and do the calculations he needed to pinpoint his location on a map.  He had also heard more myths than he had thought possible for one person to keep in their head.  “Why do you care enough about all of these myths to have them memorized?” he asked one evening, when the sea air was a bit too cold, his eyes straining to focus in the lantern light, and his heart only too aware of how long they’d been far from home.

“Everyone loves a good story!” Zhu Yan looked toward Zuko for confirmation and sighed as he met the corresponding glare.  “But, in all seriousness, and if nothing else, this is the one for you to remember.”

“Another story?” Zuko groaned.  “Why is the answer to every question another story?  You’re just as bad as Uncle with tea or proverbs.”

“I promise it’s less of a story than something to think about.  So we know that Agni is the spirit associated with our sun, yes?  Well, every star in the sky is another sun somewhere out there, farther away than we could ever imagine.  Every one of them is Agni’s brother or sister or sibling.  The constellations and their stories are important to me because being under the stars is like being under the light of a thousand suns.”  Zhu Yan turned his face up to the sky as if to try to feel the light.  “Why wouldn’t we want to find a way to connect ourselves to that?”

Zuko didn’t have an answer, and for once, didn’t have a disparaging comment either.  The stars were suns far away?  Did this mean that when he liked being under the stars it didn’t mean he was a disgrace as a firebender?

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Zhu Yan continued, “That’s one of the reasons I love the Fire Nation, and firebending.  Since firebending comes from the sun, when we bend we’re also as close as we can be to the stars.”

Zhu Yan fell uncharacteristically silent after that.  For the rest of the evening’s practice, hardly another word was spoken. Zuko found himself forgetting his earlier complaints, instead enraptured by the thought of light and heat and fire so far away he could barely see it.

After they packed up and parted for the evening, Zuko returned to his quarters with energy humming in his veins.  He sat himself cross legged in front of his meditation candles and took a deep, steadying breath inward.  Firebending came from the breath, Uncle always said.  And according to Zhu Yan, it also connected them to the sky.  How could that be so bad, to hold a piece of a star in his hands?

Zuko let out his breath and drew in a new one, trying to feed his inner fire.  It had been so long, he had almost forgotten the pleasant trickle of warmth along the skin of his hands.  Another, and he held his palms up in front of him, and watched as a tiny spark bloomed an inch above his skin and grew into a small, but real flickering flame.

[justaniche]

Never Have I Ever...(accidentally) let someone meet Rebecca

heres the link to chapter 2 on ao3 

let me know what you think and happy reading!

word count: 4,622

His talk with Devi shifted from the forefront of Paxton’s mind soon after he got home. Once he finally got home and was ready to collapse, Rebecca found her way into Paxton’s room knowing of his arrival despite his exhausted attempt to hide it and with her came several and I mean  several  sketches of clothing she had drawn and that meant Paxton had to wake up and fast.

One time, Paxton, following a long day, had fallen asleep an hour into one of Rebecca’s ventures to bounce fashion ideas off of him and he had to work for weeks to make up for it. He loved his sister to death, but he was so tired he couldn’t help it and now he learned to keep energy drinks in their house for moments just like this one. In a movement perfected with repetition, Paxton grabbed a bang energy drink from his side dresser and down it while Rebecca pulled drawing after drawing out of the roll she brought with her.

Paxton hadn’t gotten in as late as he had in the past today so Rebecca had time to show him a good portion of her ideas before they had to start their movie so that they could get some sleep. Rebecca showed him a golden dress with a sequence pattern going down the left side, a take on a plaid skirt, paired with a shirt, she even shows him shoes and accessories to go with each individual outfit among many more. Becca wanted to be a fashion designer and hoped to soon apply to fashion school but she had to complete her portfolio first and did not hesitate to enlist Paxton’s help to do this.

After Becca finished showing Paxton all she wanted for the night, they settled onto the couch to watch the movie that had caught Becca’s eye 2 days prior,  After The Ball . The movie included an identity switch, a ball, and a touch of romance. It's a regular Cinderella tale with a twist, the protagonist was an aspiring fashion designer! Paxton could evidently see why it caught Rebecca’s eye. The movie ended rather quickly with Rebecca and Paxton engulfed deeply into the story although the latter tried to hide it. With the energy drink’s buzz leaving Paxton’s mind, his exhaustion followed and he was yawning despite himself. He and Rebecca exchanged goodnights and went to bed.

The next few days went off like normal, school was still new off of summer’s high and students and teachers alike needing time to bounce back, school work was nonexistent. The classes consisted of syllabi and classroom rules and expectations. This caused widespread boredom but fortunately, on this day, lunch approached rapidly and with lunch starting, Paxton found himself in the center of it all with his group of friends inside what students called  The Hotpocket.

Lunch unfolded as it always did, after they finished whatever lunch they had that day the soft hum of their light discussions broke out into full-fledged banter and laughter. Accompanying that laughter was parts of the aforementioned group messing around and sometimes engaging in ridiculous activities. Today that activity was Trent and Marcus, another close friend of theirs, battling with their lanyards. They were being dramatic as ever holding their IDs like nunchucks and swinging them about. Paxton was entangled in a lighthearted conversation with Devin, stopping on occasion to eye Trent and Marcus and laugh at their behavior.

Paxton was looking away when he heard someone exclaim “Ow. Goddamn it”. The entire Hotpocket looked up to cringe at the scene that was, apparently, a girl getting, accidentally, slapped in the face with a lanyard. Paxton’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Did I just hit you?” Marcus asks tentatively

“It’s cool” The reply from the girl, Devi, came rather fast considering her reaction from just moments ago. She adjusted her grips on her backpack straps, “Hey, Paxton, can I talk to you?”

Paxton turned towards his friend, giving him a pat and chuckling through an ‘i’ll be back’ while shifting up to stand. “Okay,” his face straightened as he followed Devi out of earshot from his friends.

“So I thought I would follow up on our conversation from the other day and ask if you wanted to hang out later?” The sentence was cool leaving her mouth, none of the ever-building anxiety leaked from her words.

Paxton had to think quickly to what Devi was referencing but it came to him milliseconds later and he blinked through his realization, “Oh, oh, you mean, uh, like, have sex?” he gave a soft smile hoping to give off a comforting vibe despite the twinge of uncomfortableness brewing in his gut. “Sure, uh, maybe” he paused to think “after school today at my place?”

Devi’s calm facade seemed to shatter and the word tripped from her mouth, eloquence long forgotten, “Today?” Her mind blanked with panic for a split second and the words  TOO SOON  flooded her brain. She hadn’t expected this.

“Yeah.”

“That’s super soon, which is great.” Devi had a feeling she was more so trying to convince herself than anyone else. “Soon is great, it’s just…” an answer popped into her head, “I have orchestra after school today, so I can’t.” she had to stall, to prepare herself but couldn’t for too long. It was a miracle that Paxton had agreed in the first place. If she messes up he could change his mind so she mindfully finished “But maybe later this week?”

Paxton wanted to laugh but held it in, he opened his mouth to answer but just exhaled. His charming smile ever-present as he answered while backtracking returning once again to the Hotpocket effectively ending the conversation. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He turned, striding away.

“Okay, great” Devi called, “We’ll compare calendars tomorrow or something. We’ll figure it out. Later, skater.”

Paxton had already begun to join Marcus and Trent in their makeshift game when he registered Devi’s continued speech, “What?” He asked but she tucked her head, shamefully, and walked away.

~~~

Succeeding lunch, the day sped up considerably. With the commencement of the last class of the day and everyone going to their lockers and then out the door, Paxton was joining them. Today there was no swim practice so Paxton was, thankfully, headed home early. That was his thought until of course his English teacher thought now would be a great time to talk to him about his supposed “lack of participation”. This normally would be something that Paxton would care about and attempt to contemplate but not now, not today when he was getting an early day to relax and who knows what else with this extra time.

It was probably 15 minutes max, but to Paxton, it felt like a lifetime. He was at his car door about to get in as someone called him from his right.

“Hey. I can actually come now. The scheduling conflict I had cleared up.” Devi stated, hands gripping her bookbag’s straps.

Paxton didn’t miss a beat, a split second earlier and he would have cut her off. He found himself buzzed with some semblance of happiness for the company. “Cool. Get in.”

“Okay.” Devi smiled and hurried t0 the passenger side of the car and climbed it as Paxton got settled and they set off.

When they got to Paxton’s house, he got Devi inside before his phone rang and he left the garage to answer the phone. The conversation was rather brief and as it was concluding Paxton re-entered the garage still speaking Japanese into his phone. He hung up.

“Sorry. That was my grandpa,” Paxton clarified, “Can I get you a drink?” he was already making his way over to the mini-fridge he kept in the garage before she could answer. He knew how these matters, if not handled carefully, could easily tip from comfortable to awkward if he didn’t mind sharp, and that was the last thing he wanted with Devi.

“Sure. Do you have any chocolate--” Devi stopped, rather abruptly, when Paxton spun around to face her, beer in hand. She grabbed it despite herself. “Ah. Beer. You read my mind.”

“All right. Well, my mom will be home soon, so...better get to it” Paxton gave a half shrug before stripping off his shirt from the bottom. If there was anything about himself that Paxton was securely confident in, it was his physical appearance. Being that Paxton was a swimmer, he could not afford to think about how others would feel about his appearance at every opportunity. Giving into potential insecure would only throw him off mentally during swim practices and comps, Paxton resolved himself a long time ago that it would help no one. So he tended to, or at least tried to, not think about it every time he showed a part of his body. Plus it’s not like any girl he was interested in who got far enough with him complained, thus taking off his shirt was no big feat and he did so without hesitation.

Devi was sort of freaking out at this point but was doing a great job of not showing it. That was until Paxton’s shirt came off. The beer she was sure she had a good grip on slipped and hit the floor with a thud. Paxton’s eyes followed it, slight confusion on his face but he didn’t comment.

“Oh.” the urge to explain the state of his chest took over, “Just so you know, I have to shave my chest for swimming, so the stubble might, like irritate your skin a little bit.” He lifted her limp hand to his chest for emphasis moving her hand to feel, he looked down following their joined hands, and then looked up making eye contact with Devi. He gave a small smile and she gaped.

“Oh, God”

Her mouth opened and closed for a few moments before her brain reconnected with her mouth. She had just touched the chest of Paxton Hall-Yoshida! Fab and Eleanor were gonna flip! But wait, her mind was now at red alert at the close proximity between her and Paxton that she’s just now processing. And so she did what any normal person would in her situation, she panicked.

“You know what? I just remembered. I have to go home,” She snatched her hand back like it was on fire leaving Paxton surprised and his hand hanging in the air as she patted his shoulders for good measure, “because I have a package coming that I need to sign for.” she nodded trying to regain her composure, it wasn’t working.

Paxton nodded and chuckled as he and Devi switched positions in her attempt to get to the door, he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Word?”

“Yeah, It’s medication for my mom’s...polio.” What the heck Devi? Polio, really?

Paxton could only nod through Devi’s hidden meltdown.

“Yeah, so…” She slowly retreated to the door through her word vomit when she misstepped and a sharp pain spread at the base of her leg, “Ow. Goddamn it!”

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” Paxton’s stance broke as he rushed forward to the injured girl. She leapt back before he could reach.

“Yep, yep. I’m fine” Devi’s aim to reassure fell short as Paxton’s concerned eyes looked closer.

“Are you sure? You’re...bleeding.” he gestured to her leg

“It’s chill. I’ll see you tomorrow” humiliation ate at Devi’s very being. She had majorly fucked up, in various departments and she was out the door before Paxton could utter another word.

Paxton was extremely bewildered and it showed on his face. With Devi gone the garage fell silent. Paxton stepped back from the door, considered his options. He could go after her or stay home and like she said, see her the following day. He weighed it and decided against trying to catch up to her. She really did seem like she just wanted him to think she was fine and to leave it alone, he wanted to respect that. His gaze swept the floor before it landed on the theorized perpetrator. It was sharpish, in a box on the floor, and sticking out in his direction; one of Paxton’s old swim trophies. He crouched down with a sigh as he picked up the award and rolled it around in his hands examining it. At the very tip was a trace amount of blood, where it had punctured Devi’s cafe. Paxton could not help but think about how strange that was, try as he had to make the whole interaction go as smoothly as possible there was no predicting that and therefore no thwarting it. With the knowledge that there was nothing Paxton could do to help the situation with Devi gone, Paxton shrugged his shirt back on and proceeded with his day.

~~~

Contrary to what Devi said and to what Paxton thought, Paxton did not see Devi the entire school day. He found himself expecting to see her somewhere but always fell short when she was nowhere to be seen. The end of the day came and once again no practice, coach explained it as a new regime he was trying out, sorting out on days and off days and said it would vary until he decided what worked. Paxton was restless after two days and decided on a run after he got home.

He was finishing up his 2-mile run when he saw Devi pacing in front of his house, he ran up behind her. “Sup,” he panted, her response was a scream as he had seemed to startle her. He smirked faintly, “I’m just finishing up a run,” Paxton began. He wanted to get her talking, particularly about why he found her in front of his house talking to herself. He was vaguely relieved to see her but ignored that.

“Okay, cool” she crossed her arms, her demeanor chill. “So do you need to stretch or something, or are you good to just go into your garage and have sex with me?” The words marched from her mouth clear and confident. Let us take a minute to appreciate both the awkwardness of that sentence and applaud the boldness of it.

“Um…” Caught off guard Paxton frowned deeply into his shrug, “I’m good to go to the garage.” She struts passed, her head held high, and as soon as she did Paxton swiftly lifted his shoulder to sniff his armpit, reassuring himself that he did in fact not smell. He pivoted and followed her inside.

Unfortunately, the blind confidence coming from Devi’s words did not translate well into action. That is how they found themselves sitting on Paxton’s couch, Devi’s arm along the back of it, their vicinity too close to not be at least talking and the tension was building. Paxton looked to her for a move and Devi jumped on it.

“So, here we are…” she weirdly stroked from his collarbone down, the tone from outside back on, “about to pleasure each other.”

Paxton did not know if he should be weirded out by her word choice but Devi was proving, with every meeting, to be not like any of the other girls he tends to interact with. He nodded vaguely but when she tapped his nose twice he couldn’t stop his eyebrows from coming together, what exactly was happening?

“But before I can rock your world, I need to freshen up.”

Paxton couldn’t decide if Devi did not see anything wrong with this whole situation or if she was choosing to ignore it, that decision would dictate how he would respond so he needed to figure it out and soon.

“Can you point me in the direction of the ladies’ room? I wouldn’t wanna pee in the middle of doing it.” One point for ignoring the problems, zero for not seeing them. There’s no way she didn’t realize how that sounded coming from her mouth but her face gave no emotion but certainty.

Paxton wasn’t sure if he should respond to the second part but did anyway although the words came slowly full of apprehension, as he lifted his finger in the direction of the bathroom. “Yeah, that’d be bad. First door on the right.”

“Thanks” With that Devi was gone.

Paxton breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t think properly with her here. She came back on a new day seemingly ready to have sex despite yesterday’s debacle. The odd opening word choice might have been endearing had it not been followed by a tense silence and more questionable sentence phrasing. It was quickly bordering on uncomfortable but awkwardness was a natural occurrence in sex so this was not a real reason to bail. He just had to wrap his head around her way of speaking and this would be fine. Paxton repeated this in his head, this will be fine.

Several minutes had gone by and Devi had yet to return. Paxton got up from his position on the couch to find her, she really should not have gotten lost. He checked the bathroom to no avail and stopped confused then he continued down the hallway when he heard voices coming from Rebecca’s room.

“I’m Devi. It’s nice to meet you.” Paxton turned glimpsing into Rebecca’s room to see her shaking hands with Devi. Irritation started to build in Paxton’s chest.

“What are you doing?” He directed at Devi but didn’t wait for a response before addressing his sister, “Becca, I thought you were at work.”

Paxton walked deeper into the room, “I switched with Lisa. She gets her braces off tomorrow.” Rebecca explained, satisfied with the answer he received, Paxton turned back to Devi.

“You said you were just going to the bathroom. What the hell?” The irritation was quickly turning to anger at Devi having met his sister. If people knew about Rebecca things could turn ugly, fast.

“Wait. Are you mad at me or something?” The disbelief Devi felt was clear on her face, what was the problem here?

Paxton simply didn’t respond, the budding anger brewing substantially at her attempt to play coy. He walked clear out of Rebecca’s room without a word, his expectation was clear, she was wearing her welcome thin, and she was to go with him outside.

“Why are you sneaking around my house and talking to my sister?” Paxton was comfortable to let his annoyance into his voice with his sister out of earshot.

“Was I not supposed to? I didn’t even know that you had a sister.” Her voice was soft as she tried to get him to understand the genuine misunderstanding but it was far from working and Paxton was too cross to see reason right now. Come on Devi, read the room. Paxton saw this as a jab,

“Oh, you think I’m hiding her now, because I’m embarrassed of her or something?” It was definitely a question but he certainly did not want a response. Seeing someone with his sister sent Paxton into a sort of panic mode. Devi was going to go to school and tell everyone all about his sister and hell if he wasn’t going to get in a lot of fights defending her.

“No, I didn’t say that,” Devi stated, slightly defensive at the attack.

“Okay.” He didn’t believe her for a second as he looked away trying to gather himself, he wanted her out now. He shook his head as the words came out his mouth spiced with venom, “I don’t think this is gonna work. All right, you should probably just go.”

Devi felt the air forced from her lungs leaving her speechless, she knew there was nothing more she could say and honestly couldn’t find the words either way. She gave him one last look before leaving.

Paxton went inside, not stopping to see her go, so many emotions flowed through him but most of all he was scared. Scared of what people would say and all because he didn’t think to make sure Rebecca wasn’t home before he invited Devi inside. He was scared because he loved his sister and could not deal with people and their ignorant words and dumbass opinions but he was helpless. Paxton could not stop people from talking, couldn’t stop Devi from sharing. And Paxton hated feeling this way, the powerlessness ate at him because he was meant to always take care of his sister. So he bundled the emotions up into something he could control, aggravation, and directed it at the person who triggered the emotions, Devi.

~~~

The day passed and Devi and the situation with Becca plagued Paxton’s mind. He was upset, yes but he was also rational enough to know that he couldn’t completely blame his feelings on Devi but he was at a loss. He had accused her and gotten mad entirely too quickly. He now felt stuck between his emotions and the urge to talk to her, to say what? Paxton wasn’t sure as of yet but he couldn’t speak to her, he didn’t know how to.

~~~

Morning classes were a bore especially considering Paxton’s mind was not exactly on task so he found himself once again immensely thankful for lunch’s social reprieve. Paxton was surrounded by his friends and he could almost forget that something was bothering him. That was until the person Paxton was consciously avoiding called to him.

“Paxton, can I talk to you?”

The liveliness among the group died briefly before light laughter spread between them. Paxton’s energy dropped but it did not climb with the rest of his friends’. Paxton looked over, face straight, his eyes met with the expectant Devi. She sort of looked how he felt but he couldn’t compel his body to make a move. His eyes dropped from hers unable to maintain the contact with shame stewing over his behavior. Without a word to Devi, Paxton turned to his friends and continued to converse.

~~~

There was a chance although slight that Paxton held on to that he would not run into Devi during lunch. That did not work out. There was no chance that he could go to their  shared  history class and not be at a close distance seeing as he sat in front of her. He sat in front of her trying to focus but his mind was racing and he was dumbfounded.

He still didn’t know what to say. The reasons to simply ignore her compiled, her meeting Becca, his anger, his reaction, and now him disregarding her at lunch. He was making this worse instead of better, he knew this but he couldn’t figure out how to fix it. He hated being mean to people, he hated to leave things unsettled, but this time was different. He couldn’t get a grasp on the words that would make this better, so he chose not to say anything at all.

~~~

That night Paxton laid down, progressively his pent up energy was coming to a head and it was coming out as restlessness. Once he had gotten home, Paxton ran until he was spent but still he was unable to relax. He had done a series of activities including various workouts, watching movies, and cooking but nothing was untangling the knot he felt in his chest. The complete stress he felt at being a jerk to Devi. Paxton had to do something. He felt okay at first but it has gotten so much worse in such a short span of time.

He had to talk to her, and not tomorrow, no he needed to apologize tonight, right now. So he grabbed his keys and started to walk to Devi’s house. Thinking about it in a way that makes sense, he would have reached her sooner had he driven but Paxton wasn’t thinking. He was going totally on emotion and that was causing him to act rashly. He made it to Devi’s house relatively quickly and he rang the doorbell before processing a thought. When his finger released the doorbell, he took a breath that finally felt like it entered his lungs. Within moments a woman was answering the door,

“Hello?” she began, despite the door being wide open. She appeared suspicious of the unknown young man who stood at her door at this hour. “Can I help you with something?”

“Um...yes I am sorry to bother you but is Devi home?” He realized at that moment the strangeness of his request and how it could be taken considering when he had shown up.

“Hold on” The woman disappeared, leaving her door open and Paxton again was left to wait.

Paxton took a breath to help calm himself then turned to face the door upon hearing the shuffling of footsteps and was relieved to see Devi at the door.

“Hey”

“Hi”

The greeting was short as they both caught sight of Nalini Vishwakumar, Devi’s mom, leaning along the top of the staircase, eavesdropping not so subtly. Devi could not have her mom listening in. Devi did not know what this conversation would entail but given the nature of her past talks with Paxton, her asking him to have sex with her after all, she could not have her mom hearing that. She would very possibly kill her.

“Let’s talk over here” Devi offered, walking outside and shutting the door behind her. Once they were at a safe distance, Paxton let what was bothering his mind spill out.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for yesterday. I’m just kind of protective of my sister. She used to get bullied pretty bad...even by people I thought were my friends. I guess I’ve always been a little too protective. Like, when my parents first adopted her, I used to sit by her bed every night with a Nerf gun. That’s why our cat only has one eye now.” Paxton finished slowly, slightly embarrassed that a funny story had turned into him admitting to mistakenly hurting their family cat.

Paxton did not know why exactly he was sharing so much with Devi but it felt nice. It started to seem to Paxton that he did not think about every word when it came to Devi. It was weird but it was nice to share this with someone.

“Paxton, I would never make fun of your sister. She’s super fashionable and way cooler than me.” They were sharing a laugh at that blatantly honest remark when Devi’s mom knocking on the window interrupted them.

“No laughing.” She warned

“Mom!”

Paxton had to interject, recalling something Devi had said in his garage, he lifted his hand in greeting. “I’m so sorry about your polio, Doctor Vishwakumar.”

“What?” Nalini shot back but she didn’t care for an answer and that showed when she let the curtain fall.

“Well, thanks for the apology. If we’re cool, should we meet in your garage tomorrow?” Devi’s tone was hopeful but Paxton had other plans. He made a face.

“Actually, I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore. It just got weird, you know?” He felt a lot better and his voice took on a relaxed feel.

Despite the disappointment Devi felt, she played it off, she scoffed “Yeah, sure. I was gonna say the same thing too.”

Paxton smiled and Devi gave a small one back, “Okay.” His words felt final and they knew their conversation was coming to an end. “Well, uh...I’ll see you at school.”

Paxton, pleased with the way the talk went, began his trek home and Devi dejectedly retreated back into her house. Paxton was once again walking away from Devi, but this time there was a difference. This time, Paxton looked back.

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: March Comes in Like a Lion S2, Episode 4

Yeah.

Yeah, this show is a fucking masterpiece.

Crown Jewel

Sangatsu no Lion has always been good. It’s always been really good. It’s always been so damn good in so many ways you could spend hours counting them all. Heck, that’s what I’ve been doing for the past couple weeks as I’ve worked my way through everything it has to offer. But more than anything, it captures something that few anime achieve: the ability to truly astound you. It isn’t just as good as it is, it’s good in ways that constantly surprise you. It’s good in ways that shatter all your expectations time and time again, always going the extra mile to achieve something above and beyond what you thought was possible. I can’t even count the number of times this show has sucker-punched me with how good it gets. There are too many incredible moments, so many absolutely jaw-dropping sequences, too many scenes that cut through all your defenses in ways you never could have predicted. So when Hina stepped through the door crying at the end of episode 3, I knew I wasn’t ready for what was next. An intense arc dealing with the struggle of my favorite fucking character in the show? There was no way this wasn’t going to blow all my expectations out of the water. There was no way this wasn’t going to be good on a level I was in no way prepared for. If I’ve learned anything from six months of watching Gintama, it’s that when a show is this fucking good, you can never prepare for how hard it’s gonna hit you. All you can do is let yourself be swept away.

And yet, somehow, I ended up underestimating Sangatsu regardless. Because despite how much I convinced myself that I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready for how not ready I was.

I wasn’t ready for one of the best fucking episodes of anime I’ve seen in my entire life.

Yes, go back and read that sentence again. This is no exaggeration, no hyperbole, nothing but the honest truth straight from the bottom of my heart. Episode 4 of Sangatsu no Lion Season 2 is one of the best episodes of anime I’ve ever seen. It’s a masterpiece among masterpieces. It blows entire other anime straight out of the water. It erupts with the force of a nuclear bomb and eclipses the fucking sun in its glow. It completely destroyed me and sewed me back together. It overwhelmed me and left me a sobbing puddle on the floor. It took a show I already loved dearly and blasted it into the fucking stratosphere and beyond. This. Episode. Is. EVERYTHING. It’s so everything that I feel no shame about dedicating an entire post just for it. Because if we’re to truly appreciate what this episode accomplishes, it needs the space to breathe on its own. It needs to be recognized for just what a stunning achievement it is. Everything this show is, everything it’s about to become, everything it represents and strives to convey, it’s all tied up in this perfect twenty-five minute package. So let’s talk about how Sangatsu no Lion officially transcended to godhood.

It Hurts

I was lucky growing up to not have to deal with bullying. There was one kid in eight grade who made fun of me in computer class for a couple months and that was it. I’ve never had to suffer what it’s really like to be ostracized by one’s peers, taunted or tormented for some arbitrary reason. But that doesn’t mean my heart can’t break for those who are suffering it. And Christ on a cracker, does Hina’s situation make my heart break. What’s truly horrible about it is that she wasn’t even the one being bullied at first. It was her longtime friend who was arbitrarily singled out for punishment. For the vaguest reasons and the dumbest justifications, in the pathetic, immature way that teen and pre-teens can hurt each other, she was bullied and ignored until she has to switch schools. And no matter how hard Hina tried, she couldn’t get anyone to listen. Not her classmates, not her teacher, no one. They just didn’t want to see it, because it was easier to pretend that nothing was wrong. It was easier to pretend that it was all harmless pranks, that Hina was making a mountain out of a molehill, that they could sit back and do nothing and not rock the boat and everything would turn out fine. Their problems were ignored, brushed under the rug by active malice or willful ignorance or just plain cowardice. And just as everyone warned her, Hina’s efforts to stick up for her friend only brought the bullies’ wrath on her next. Another problem to be ignored and dismissed. Another crisis it would be all too easy for the school to ignore.

But then, Hina makes a decision that changes everything.

She decides to not go quietly into that good night.

She decides to fight back.

Defiance

And if you want the precise moment where this episode officially burst into god-tier, that would be it. The moment she lashes out, the moment she lunges at her friends’ tormentors in the middle of gym class, the moment I started screaming in cathartic glee... that single choice is the backbone not just of Hina, but the entire fucking show. Sangatsu no Lion is obsessed with the invisible challenges people face, the struggles and pain that society overlooks for lack of desire to face them. Rei’s depression has kept him isolated and alone all his life, unable to voice the pain inside him until recently. His sister’s trapped in her own broken cycle of regret and toxic co-dependency. So many of his fellow shogi players are struggling with burdens that prevent them from addressing their own problems. They’re buried by a system and culture that says it’s not worth addressing them. Because it’s easier to pretend they don’t exist, to hide them away in dark pockets and corners, then to look them in the eye. But in broad daylight, in the presence of countless other people, with the public’s eye firmly upon her, pressuring her to shut up and sit down, Hina says no. She lashes out in full view of society. She gives voice to the anger and pain it tries to keep hidden. By tackling the bullies, by raging against them in pure, adolescent rage, she sends a message straight to the heavens above: this pain is worthy. This pain deserves to be heard. The people who slip through the cracks, the problems society ignores, they are worthy of her anger and sympathy. They are worthy of her defiance in the face of impossible odds.

They are worthy of her radical empathy.

And as she runs sobbing through the night, the lights of the city blistering grey and black, Rei barely keeping up with her as her anguish carries her on, all the pain compounding on her small back until it forces her to collapse, it would be so easy for her to break. It would be so easy to shrink before the torment now foisted upon her, to crawl back into the shadows and carry this uncomfortable situation out of the public eye again. But no matter how hard she’s crying, no matter how much she’s hurting, she refuses to have any regrets. She refuses to accept the should’ve done any different. Her friend was hurting, and she tried to help. She refused to let her voice be silenced. She refused to pretend that her suffering wasn’t worthy of her compassion. Even if she’s alone tomorrow, even if she doesn’t know how to handle this situation, even if she’s scared and terrified and exhausted by it all, she refuses to says he was wrong.

Because, as she shouts in a voice full of strength and sobs, what she did definitely wasn’t wrong.

That single statement is like a lightning bolt searing through the dark night. It’s power and purpose, strength and kindness, hope and joy, the defiance of a small soul who represents humanity’s ability to stand against even the most difficult situations and refuse to give up on love. It’s the thesis statement of Sangatsu no Lion distilled into a perfect, undying package.

And it’s the voice of salvation for a boy of darkness finally climbing into the light.

You Are My Savior

Because as deeply as Hina’s voice has touched me, as much as I love her with all my heart, I know one thing for certain: that all pales in comparison to how deeply Rei cares for her. In his darkest days, she’s been the shining beacon pulling him out. When the voices in his head threaten to tear him to shreds, her voice is the one that banishes them to the abyss. When all hope seems lost and he doesn’t know how he can possibly go on, it’s her smiling face and outstretched hand, reaching out in a simple gesture of kindness, that gives him the strength to lift his feet once more. And as her defiance rings out through the night, Rei finally realizes what an incredible blessing she’s given him. In her support of her friend, in her unwillingness to let her pain suffer in darkness, Rei sees all the ways she’s similarly pulled him out of the shadows. Her voice of defiance of the world’s evils is the same voice that’s saved his life too many times to count. And he no longer wants to hide from that voice. He’s no longer scared enough to shrink before the opportunity that says he deserves better. He wants to live. He wants to try. He wants to believe in everything that voice ever told him he was capable of.

So after a lifetime of hiding away, after a lifetime of lacking the courage to try... Rei finally takes Hina’s hand.

And he promises her, in no uncertain terms, that he will be there for her.

He will repay the kindness she’s shown him.

Because Hinata Kawamoto is his savior. And he will never run from what they share again.

There are moments over the course of this blog when my words fail me. There are moments when my emotions are just too strong, too person, too overwhelming to translate into simple prose. All I can do is ask you: have you ever cried so hard your eyes start stinging from the tears? Have they ever sting so hard that you can’t even keep them open? Because that’s what happened to me at this point. I lost it so hard I’m still leeky and puffy-eyed even now. God on a fucking popsicle stick, he did it. Rei DID it. He overcame his demons and reached out. He shook off his fears of being with other people and chose to stay in the light. He responded to Hina’s radical empathy with his own radical empathy, promising that no matter what, they deserve to walk forward. They deserved the kindness they’d shown each other. And for the first time, we see who Rei Kiriyama becomes when he has the courage to try. When he can take Hina out to the library, choosing to spend time with her of his own accord. When he can share his interests and hobbies with her, happily talking about ladybugs and plant life just because it’s fun to talk about. When he can think of her own interests and point her towards books on sweets and baking. When he can be there as a shoulder for her to cry on, a voice of comfort that gives her the same courage she gave him. When her own internal monologue, through the simplicity of its appreciation, makes it clear in no uncertain terms how meaningful his friendship is to her.

When the boy who wears an almost perpetual frown... is finally able to smile.

I have always loved Rei and Hina’s relationship. But the way this crisis has deepened their bond truly has me at a loss for words. It’s beautiful on a level that human language just isn’t equipped for. It’s a beacon of kindness and courage, a symbol of how far they’ve come, a promise that they’ll be there for each other whatever it takes. It’s the purest, most powerful this show’s spirit has ever shone. It leaves me trembling with how good it is.

It is nothing more or less than Sangatsu no Lion.

God Bless This Show

And that praise has never rung purer from my lips than it does now. It’s never meant more than it does for Rei restraining his almost murderous impulses and forcing himself to think about how to handle this situation best for Hina (although let’s be real, I wouldn’t complain at all if he tracked down her bullies and ripped them limb from limb). It’s never meant more than it does for Hina’s grandpa telling her she did the right thing in an utterly gobsmacking speech that makes me fall in love with him all over again (”I’m so proud of you! Not many adults would have that courage!”) It’s never meant more than it does for her whole family- Akari, Momo, Grandpa, even the cats- breaking down with her in shared catharsis, rendered in some of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful animation this show’s ever put out (and that’s saying a LOT). It’s never meant more than it does for the almost wordless dinner that follows, everyone still messy and crying but sharing in the sense of family that dinner represents regardless, all Hina’s favorite foods giving her the strength to keep crying to the backing of an unfathomably gorgeous soundtrack. It’s apotheosis and benediction, genesis and revelation, any and all pretentious hyperbole I could throw its way. It is, without question, one of the single most beautiful moments that anime has ever given me.

Sangatsu no Lion has always been good. It’s always been really good. But after this episode, there’s no other way I can describe it than one of the best fucking anime I’ve ever seen. And if the rest of the second season is even half as good as this episode, I’ll be still have no problem calling that statement true. Thank you all so much for joining me on this incredible journey. I can’t wait to see what else it has in store.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Flashes of the Past

Fandom: The Bartimaeus Sequence

Pairing: None

Description: Tired of the constant visits to Earth after helping Nathaniel successfully thwart the Golem rampaging through London, Bartimaeus finally decides to give the boy a piece of his mind. However, when he finds Nathaniel in a surprising state, unexpected memories begin to surface... memories of a former master who was also a kid in way over his head.

This story was written for the 2019 Bartimaeus Zine, Millennia. Check it out here: https://tbtfanzine.tumblr.com/post/189856191281/millennia-a-bartimaeus-sequence-fanzine

Rating: G

Genre: Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022725

Flashes of the Past

Another master, another mission, another countless number of months on Earth. So is my life, century after century. I’m not sure why I thought this time would be different, but for whatever reason… I did[1].

The kid was smart, definitely, but also young- and that meant he was easily influenced by his peers[2]. He’d already had some of that haughty British magician air the first time he’d summoned me a few years ago, but I could see that he wasn’t totally corrupt yet. He was certainly getting there, though. The arrogance seeped further into him each day, and it most clearly presented itself in the type of missions he sent me on.

At first, they were standard- protect him during an important party, watch over his room as he slept, deliver a secret message only one person is meant to see. As the months went on, however, the tasks began to change. It was no longer “pick up this secret relic for Internal Affairs,” but “go pick up some crisps from the shop while I do some paperwork.”

Honestly, I was getting a little put-out.

It was during one such task that I resolved to give the boy a piece of my mind once I got back to him. I’d been sent to buy some lunch[3] and was expected back within the hour. I wasn’t worried about being a little late, though; since I knew the boy’s birth name, his “punishments” were mostly empty threats[4]. Although, based on his increasing paranoia and twitchiness, I wondered if they were going to stay that way.  

Finally, I made it to the counter and ordered, adding an extra special topping much to the horror of the cashier- hopefully, a preview of Nathaniel’s future reaction. As usual, the boy was very careful to give me very clear, explicit instructions, but I was still the best at finding loopholes. In this case, he’d told me what type of sandwich he wanted and “not to put anything else on it that he didn’t like.” As unconventional as my final choice of topping was, I knew for a fact that the boy liked it, so therefore I was technically in the clear.

I left the shop and turned into a crow at my first opportunity, the foil-wrapped sandwich clutched in my claws. My disguise was so good that to my mild annoyance, a few other crows thought I was bringing them a fresh meal and tried to snatch the sandwich from me mid-flight. I scared them off with a loud caw that shook the windows on a nearby house and was left alone for the remainder of my trip.

When I arrived at Nathaniel’s room, I found the window shut- odd, since he always kept it open for me when I went out to retrieve food. I threw the sandwich into the air and skillfully caught it in my beak, then landed on the windowsill and peered in, checking the area on all planes just to be safe. I couldn’t sense anything amiss on planes two through seven, but on the first is where I saw Nathaniel, sitting on the bed with his knees curled up to his chest. His ridiculously tight coat was thrown haphazardly on the floor- the first sign that something was wrong[5].

I tapped on the glass with my beak and the boy jerked so violently he nearly fell off the bed. I tilted my head questioningly, watching him with a beady black eye. I saw the recognition[6] wash over his face as he looked from my current form to the sandwich. Slowly, as if in a daze, he got off the bed and walked to the window. He unlatched the bolt and, after looking all around as if someone were waiting to strike him down the second his focus wavered, he opened the window just enough for me to squeeze through.

In one singular motion, I dropped the sandwich onto his desk and shifted into Ptolemy’s form, forgoing the usual Egyptian garb in favor of the modern outfit I wore when blending in with the humans. I turned back to Nathaniel to see him muttering and gesturing at the now-locked window, and a few seconds later a green nexus appeared on the third plane, providing another layer of protection to seal off the room from the outside world. The boy turned around, noticed me casually leaning against the desk, and nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time.

“My oh my, Natty boy, what’s gotten into you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as the boy pressed a hand over his heart as if the gesture would help calm his rapid pulse. “You’re so… jumpy.”

The boy glared at me, which at least showed that he was thinking clearer. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, looking as though he was deciding whether to actually tell me anything- an important choice to make. The more information he gave me, the more I could potentially use against him, and vice versa. This is one of the many reasons why magicians didn’t tend to be friendly with the spirits they enslaved[7].

Eventually, Nathaniel cleared his throat and explained, staring at the floor, “While you were gone, I decided to go for a walk in the nearby park and while I was there… an attempt was made on my life.”

My eyes widened. “What?!”

“You heard me.” Nathaniel snapped his gaze to mine, eyes still narrowed with both anger and residual fear.

“I meant ‘what’ as in ‘what a bold thing to do, in broad daylight with a bunch of potential witnesses,’” I clarified, and the boy’s glare deepened. Well, that certainly explained his previous curled-up position and the locked window. “What happened, did someone throw an elemental sphere at you? Try and drop a rock on your head from the roof?”

“No.” Nathaniel sighed, looking at the floor again. “Something attacked me that wasn’t visible on the first three planes- I don’t know what it was, before you ask, obviously I couldn’t see it. I barely made it back inside before a blast almost hit me.” He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering despite the cozy warmth of the bedroom.

I stared at him, finding myself unable to shoot back a witty retort. The expression on his face was just so… vulnerable. At that moment, he looked every bit the scrawny, inexperienced child he truly was. As much as he pretended to be one of the self-important government magicians, in reality he was just a fourteen-year-old boy way out of his league.

“Why didn’t you summon me?” I asked, curious. Usually, when a magician is under attack their first response is to summon the most powerful spirit under their command- which in this case was me, of course.

Nathaniel blinked at me as if I’d slapped him across the face. “I… didn’t think of it.”

“Well, did you at least shoot back a counter-spell and give the guy a run for his money?”

“Er… no.”

“Wait- you got attacked and just hid in your room?!” The expression on my face twisted into one of disbelief. The kid was brilliant and had been in much more perilous situations than what he’d just described; I couldn’t understand why his first instinct had been to shut himself in his room and hope no one would find him.

“I locked the door and windows!” Nathaniel said defensively, still clutching his arms around himself. “And I put a protective spell on the door. I just… I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me to summon you. Or try to fight back. I just wanted to get away.”

“Your mistake,” I said with a shrug. And then, a thought occurred to me, a slow smile spreading across my face. “You know, if you didn’t send me out to do frivolous things like get you sandwiches, I’d already be around if something like this happens again… which it definitely will.”

I expected the boy to agree, maybe with a bit of fussing, but eventually realizing that my logic was infallible. However, Nathaniel didn’t seem to hear me. He’d begun to shiver again, eyes unfocused, presumably reliving the many times that he’d almost met an unfortunate end at the hands of powers beyond his control.

With a sigh, I picked up the sandwich and threw it, catching it in my hand.

“Hey,” I said, and when the boy looked at me, I lodged the sandwich directly at his face. He instinctively smacked it away just before it hit him square in the nose, to my dismay[8]. It made a light squelching sound as it landed on the floor. “Look, Nat, I’m sure you know this, but a magician’s life is full of paranoia. At least with me, you know what you’re dealing with. How about we make a new deal?”

“I’m not about to make deals with you, Bartimaeus, especially without a pentacle to bind the agreement,” the boy quipped, a bit of his usual pompousness returning.

“Relax, it’s for both our benefits!” I flashed a grin. “How’s about you stop sending me out to buy you lunch, and then I’ll be nearby the next time someone tries to take your head off; sound good?”

His jaw clenched at the mention of another threat to his life, but he tried his best to hide the fear, pushing it back down beneath the cold façade all government magicians wear. He thought for a moment, presumably trying to figure out what sort of trick I was playing, before giving a resigned sigh.

“Alright, fine; you can stay by my side, at least for a little bit,” he relented.

“Gee, you make it sound so wonderful,” I said with a roll of my eyes. The point wasn’t to be glued to him at the hip, the point was not to be sent on tasks such as acquiring food… but I could tell the boy was still too shaken up to understand my logic[9]. I gestured to the now-slightly-squished sandwich. “Eat that; part of your shock is probably because you skipped breakfast again. Hey, don’t glare at me when I speak the truth!”

The boy pursed his lips, obviously holding back a retort, but amazingly listened to my suggestion and reached down to pick up the sandwich. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, slowly unwrapping the tin foil. He paused mid-action of bringing the sandwich up to his mouth.

“…This is what the rest of my life is going to be like, isn’t it?” he asked to no one in particular, voice soft and trembling.

“I’ve already said yes,” I said, feeling it was as though it was my duty to respond[10].

“Just waiting for the next attack… always on edge… Is this what it’s going to be like forever?” He looked at me then, eyes wide and questioning as though I had all the answers, and suddenly I wasn’t looking at Nathaniel anymore.

The boy in front of me was one I’d known years ago, a boy full of optimism and love and trust, and who, on rare occasions, would forget his true self and ask me the same thing:

“Will it always be like this?” He wondered, his frail body more prone to weariness than ever. “Will I always be wondering when the next attack will come? Will I never know peace again?”

“It will never be easy,” I responded, gently placing a hand on his head, and to an outsider it looked like the Royal Vizier giving his young master some comfort. To the both of us, however, it was something much more. “But you can know peace, because I will be by your side always.”

He smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Thank you, Rekhyt.”

I blinked, and Nathaniel was in front of me once more.

“Oh, I don’t know why I bother asking you these stupid questions,” he was saying, a bit of color returning to his cheeks. He seemed to be coming back to himself, realizing his moment of weakness[11].

I closed my eyes, willing myself back to the present; now was not the time to reminisce. The boy in front of me was not Ptolemy and never would be. They were completely different in every way.

And yet, deep down, there was something in Nathaniel that brought back flashes of memories just like this. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it left my mind fuzzy. I shook my head and refocused on Nathaniel just in time to see him finally take a bite of the sandwich in his hands. He chewed absently for a few seconds, before his face scrunched up in disgust and he spat the chewed-up mound onto the floor- and, conveniently, right onto his fancy coat.

“Ugh! What is… is there banana on here?!” he exclaimed, turning to me with eyes full of fire. My lips curled up in a toothy smile and the responding expression on his face fully snapped me into the present[12].

“You told me not to put anything you didn’t like on it,” I responded with a shrug. “You often eat a banana for an afternoon snack, so I thought I’d save you the trouble and combine the two meals.”

“That’s disgusting!”

I put a hand to my heart, looking offended. “I was being thoughtful!”

“You were not, you conniving demon!”

“Now, now, no need for the insults, Nat-”

“And it’s gotten all over my coat, oh no…”

“Hey, that was your fault.” The boy glared daggers at me. “You should watch where you spew your food.”

“Ugh, I’m never sending you to the chip shop again,” he huffed, wrapping the remainder of the sandwich back up. He made to put it in the trash bin, then after a split-second’s thought promptly turned and threw it directly at me.

I caught it skillfully in my hand with a laugh and flashed him another grin. That deal worked just fine for me.

                                                            ***

[1] Maybe it was my unbridled optimism, or maybe it was just the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that the boy still had some semblance of good left in him. Either way, a stupid notion on my part.

 [2] This influence was already in full effect, if his stunningly bad fashion choices were anything to go by.

 [3] A tuna sandwich this time, with an array of toppings that we’ll come back to later on.

 [4] He had tried a few magical attacks on occasion, the most notable being a few weeks earlier, in which he sent a bolt of crippling fire my way. I swiftly returned the spell with a whisper of his name, which the boy unfortunately dodged and caused a small fire on his nightstand. He promptly had a panic attack and frantically doused the fire before it could spread, and since then he hasn’t tried anything else magically-inclined to harass me.

[5] On one memorable occasion a few days after buying the stupidly expensive coat, I’d seen the boy use himself as a human umbrella and shield the garment rather than let it get a smidge of rainwater on it, so seeing it on the chalk-dusted floor was mildly alarming.

 [6] And was that a hint of relief? Surely, I was misinterpreting his pathetic expression.

 [7] That and, well, the whole “enslavement against our will” thing in general tends to put a damper on potential friendships before they can begin.

[8] Although I was admittedly impressed by the maneuver; it was reminiscent of an ancient karate move I’d seen during one of my stints in Asia a few centuries ago.

 [9] Really, the ideal situation was that I could be released to the Other Place and never have to set eyes on that pitiful face again, but based on the recent pattern of events, I knew that any reprieve I got would be brief until the boy was no longer able to summon me… which, most likely, would be when he met his ultimate fate- a scenario which probably wouldn’t happen for quite a long time, knowing the boy’s annoying knack for staying alive.

 [10] Rhetorical question or not, I didn’t want to boy to feel ashamed for talking to himself. Besides, I’m always up for giving helpful advice when I can.

 [11] In front of a djnni, of all creatures; I’m sure he was equal parts terrified and embarrassed- well, probably more embarrassed, knowing I could pull this memory out at any time when he needed to be put in his place.

[12] It was a familiar look of contempt and exasperation- an expression that I’d seen many magicians sport over the years, but Nathaniel’s face seemed built just for it.

[vegetacide]

Coffee - Insomnia (TaG)

Veg-notables: Andddddd another one. This one is courtesy of Nutty cause she tossed a few lines at me.. So I ran with it. Anything below with a ** bracketing it was provided by her marvelous brain.

Likes and shares are awesome so thanks in advance. Reviews are my inspirational fuel so please feel free to drop a line.. I don’t bite ^,.,^

As per the norm.. All typos and mistakes are purely my own.

Special thanks to @gumnut-logic for the inspiration and the encouragement.

Part of the Coffee series.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo

Timeline: Post S.O.S part 2

Spoilers - VAYOR (cause these 2 give me life!)

ENJOY!!

**Kay walks up behind him with a steaming coffee in her hand**

Catching a whiff of the wonderful aroma - ‘cause the man was a bloodhound for coffee, Virgil pulled his head out of the aft VTOL access panel. The large cargo transport was nestled down close to the ground,  her massive weight settled on her aviation rubbers. Not her usual pre-flight position but this way made gaining access to her innards and all his tools a hell of a lot easier and only slightly hampered her module load up sequence

**“You’re up early.” She sipped her coffee knowing what his reaction would likely be. “Anything wrong?”**

Snagging a spanner out of the rolling tool chest, Virgil shrugged a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep” and turned back to what he was working on, swiping the back of his forearm over his brow.  Kayo knew from experience how stifling the small, cramped confines could be even in the cooler environs of the hanger. The bead of sweat working its way down the curve of his spine paid testament to that fact

Even with the protective material of his coveralls pulled from his heavy shoulders, the arms tied loosely around his waist, it did little to alleviate the discomfort.  Though she had to admit she did enjoy the view because at some point he’d also ditched his shirt.

She briefly lost her train of thought as the over head lighting played across the hard expanse of muscles running up his back. The sinew corded and rippled with movement while he quietly argued with whatever he was working on with such intensity.  

**A slight frown, why wasn’t he sleeping? But that was quickly replaced by a fond smile as he smeared grease across his forehead. She reached out and brushed a hair off the smear. “Anything you want to talk about?”**

She watched his profile as his lips turned up slightly with the gesture, his head tilting subconsciously to follow the path of her fingers.  Straightening from his task he caught her palm in his and gave it a brief squeeze. “Couldn’t shut my brain off.” The spanner was tossed haphazardly into the maw of the access hatch and it hit with a dull thump. His frustration at his work was evident in the careless action.

Pulling a rag from his pocket he wiped his hands, leaning back against the great big green beast of a craft.  "You might find this surprising but occasionally I actually get up at a ‘reasonable’ hour.“ He air quoted, the flex of his biceps causing the muscles to bunch and thicken.

Kayo resisted the urge to snort,  his idea of reasonable and everyone else were two vastly different concepts. “If I didn’t know you so well I would actually buy that.”  She looked around at the array of tools and the scattering of miscellaneous parts that littered the usually tidy space. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

Virgil’s eyes lost their focus, seeming to stare off into the middle distance.  His hands fiddling with the oil stained rag, playing with the tattered fabric as he was drawn inwards in introspection.  

Kayo looked down and watched as the unsweetened brew swirled and trembled in the mug with her minute movements. The distorted reflection of Two wavering and looking back up at her from the cooling beverage like some omnipresent ghost.  "I’m a light sleeper. You never came to bed last night.” She peered up at him through the loose fall of her hair and watched the series of emotions play across his tired face. The muscles in his jaw flexing as he clenched and unclenched, deep in thought and searching for the appropriate response to her statement. The length of time needed to come up with a viable answer speaking volumes of his level of exhaustion.

Drawing closer, she offered him the still warm mug.  He needed it. She’d intended to use it to entice another response out of him, a playful one of teasing but this situation hadn’t been what she’d thought it was and it was obvious another approach was needed.  

Initially when she’d awoken alone with the sun creeping across the cold sheets on his side of the bed, she’d thought that he had just gotten caught up in his work again.  Engineering was more than just a mere job to him. It was a passion that allowed him to use his exquisitely talented mind and his creative soul for projects that aided in their every day work as emergency first responders.  

She’d lost track of the amount of times she had found him asleep in random places in and around the villa. So with that thought in mind, she’d headed to the crowded kitchen, ruffling a few heads in passing, grabbed the biggest mug she could find - really the thing was a bucket in disguise, and gone in search for the dark haired Tracy.  

What she’d found was definitely far from what she had expected.  He was withdrawn and quiet. The usual child like gusto that simmered beneath the surface of his calm exterior when he was tinkering away was absent. This was concerning and alarm bells started ringing loudly in her internal landscape. Klaxons of piercing noise that she couldn’t ignore.

She nudged the cup at him again and he absently took it from her outstretched hand, staring into it without really seeing it as the aromatic steam drifted lazily between them.  

A shoulder raised again in a shrug and he  dropped the tattered remnants of the rag over the lip of the hatch before tucking his arm around his bare torso. An action of self containment that she was well versed in reading in others but was shocked to see being used by the usually self-assured man in front of her. “Lot on my mind,  couldn’t put it to bed last night. So I came down here.”

“Like what?”  She queried. It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes but she knew that patience was her best weapon. He would speak only when and if he wanted to do so.  

He shook his head,  like he was trying to brush it off. “Everything.  Bramen, the Hood, Chaos Crew, Gordon…Dad..” He listed off, the last of which hung tensely in the silence. Cloying and heavy with so much more unsaid.

Kayo held her breath, not wanting to discourage him from speaking by jumping on the large, scary topic of the great Jeff Tracy. She’d danced around that subject for years with the Brothers and she knew what buttons could be pushed and which ones should be best left alone.  

Virgil was always there for his younger brothers when they needed an ear to listen and a gentle reassuring guidance but when it came to himself, he played things close to the chest. Not wanting to show any sort of weakness for fear of worrying the others.  

Well, she’d come against that wall enough times through why he was putting it up around her of all people was beyond her. He showed her so much of himself but for this one thing.  The barricade for which he secreted this part of himself from her, sturdy and unmoving no matter how many times she attempted to surpass it.

“Virgil,” She placed a reassuring hand on his solid forearm, the flesh unyielding as he tried to clamp down on his emotions.  His fist straining and clasped tight against the forced calm he was trying and failing to project. “Don’t hide from me.”  

His brows flinched at being caught out on that but she knew that she had to try to probe the well built wall to get him to open up to her. The need for him to share in his burden spurring her on.

His eyes finally met hers and the raw emotions in them had her catching her breath.  “What is it?”  

Pushing away from his ‘bird, he put the mug down on a workbench, stalked a few steps away and stopped.  Hands on hips, his gaze down cast towards the hard floor “I gave up.”

“Gave up?” Kayo let the confusion show in her voice. “I don’t understand.”

“On ever finding Dad.” The confession brought rough hands through his hair and he turned back to her with a sudden flash of anger,  frustration that she knew was directed solely at himself “I’ve been lying to everyone. Being supportive. Keeping up an act for everyone, Alan..Gordon.. Scott, but I’ve been lying for a long time.”

Kayo followed him as realization dawned on her. Putting herself in front of him, a nonverbal shout of support for the man that she had years ago unwittingly fallen head over heels for. “And now Braman..” She supplied.  

The retrieval of Braman had changed everything for all of them.  Jeff Tracy was alive, somewhere in the vastness of space and now they were planning a rescue.  Albeit it was crazy, considering the distance and the resources both physically and mentally need for such a task but they were going to attempt a rescue nonetheless.  

Virgil gave a weak nod, his shoulders slumping. “I gave up. Resigned myself to the fact that he was dead, let myself grieve and started to pack it away…  All this time…I shouldn’t have..Dad wouldn’t have given up on me if the roles were reversed. He would have moved heaven and earth for us.. Why couldn’t I for him?  He’d be ashamed..”

“Virgil,  you can’t blame yourself for this. It was a logical conclusion that all the information we had supported..”

“A Tracy never gives up…” Was his only response.  It was the unofficial family motto.

Kayo’s heart ached behind her sternum.  He’d never whispered a word about any of this to her.  He’d been carrying this guilt around for nearly two weeks since the hidden message had been found and she’d had no clue. With just three little letter hidden amongst a sea of codes, they’d all been consumed with new found well spring of hope and an insane plan of action had been decided on.  

The time since spent amidst a mad smash up of planning and research and material gathering. Schematics and supply lists. And of course there was Gordon, recovery,  repairs to Four.. in all that time she’d never had the faintest clue that the fervid hope that had overtaken the island hadn’t in fact been felt by all.

Cupping his cheeks, her ran her thumbs across the dark smudges of guilt that hung doggedly below his eyes and turned his face up to hers.  Her lips brushing at his smeared forehead. “Virgil, you are a good man. No matter what. This, ” She stated pointing around at their surroundings, “Is all proof of that and more.  Even not knowing what had become of your father all those years ago, you still kept going. No matter the cost or the sacrifice and that makes you a good man. Your father would be proud at what you have accomplished, how many lives you’ve saved with all that you and your brothers have lost.  Never doubt that.”

She paused, leaning her forehead against his. “But, you are still human.”  Fallible, ambivalent. Mortal. Traits that they all carried within them, “Don’t let this tear you down.”  She hoped that it wouldn’t, prayed fervently that he could and would push past it. Find the strength she knew he had and use this to fuel him to be even better than what he was. Now though, was not the time to lecture him.

She stood silent before him, her head to his own and looked across the short distance. A distance tiny in actuality but which felt vaster than she had ever felt before. This man,  this loving, caring savior of others carried with him a great many weights and all she wanted, wished with everything within her was to help hold him up and ease his burdens like he did for all of them.

Regarding him with his eye held closed, he brow low she knew that  her words would stir within him, churn the swirling self doubt and contempt he hid away from everyone. His body quivering slightly as he breathed in haltingly,  trying desperately to once again find the safe harbour within himself.  

She knew once the storm had calmed and the torrent of emotions had stilled,  he would examine what she said and compare them against his own self image. Assess and reconstruct and disassemble so that he could try and bring himself back up to an even keel.  It would take time and patience and her love to guide him through it but she would be there for him for as long as he needed her.

With another shaky breath, lips grazing hers own, his words fanned her hope and the sun strained to break through the clouds. “I love you.”

Softly smiling she took his stained hand, she gave a gentle tug. With her coaxing she knew that sleep for him would finally come and she lead him away from the unfinished work, the disarray of tools and parts,  the mess of everything that he’d pulled out and scattered about.  

With a sympathetic look and a love that emboldened, she pulled him forwards. Towards the heart of the home where she hoped sleep would find him.

The mug of coffee left forgotten and chilled on the scuffed surface as their footfalls echoed across the great, hollow expanse that was his Father’s dream.

The End.

[captainneverever]

Like many of you, I’m doing the rewatch of all the MCU films. And I find myself reliving lots of memories for each one.

1) Iron Man -- First time I saw this film, my brother rented it on streaming and I fell in love from the first notes of the sound track. Except that my brother was getting upset because he thought his marriage was falling apart; they’d be divorced in three years.

2) Iron Man II and Incredible Hulk -- I found these films scanning the television for something to leave on while I did chores. Remember FX’s weekend Marvel marathons? I love parts of these films and will always watch those -- like Tony sledge-hammering the walls and floors, god I love that. Then there are the sections I have to mute or fast-forward through.

3) Thor -- a friend and I left work early to catch a showing and we really liked it. I have no idea why two grown adults were so giddy about skipping out of work early to see a film but we had a blast. A mutual friend gave us blow-up Mjolnirs for our offices and that was the first piece of fan stuff in my office. (I’ve added a lot more since then).

4) Captain America -- I didn’t like this film the first time I saw it. I meant to see it in the theater because of Thor but it was August and I never got around to it. But on the second viewing, something just clicked. Steve Rogers and his struggles, wants, victories, and defeats speak to me on a very profound level and all Cap films mean a lot to me personally.

(the post got long so I’ve added a read more)

5) Avengers -- I saw this with @armsplutonic when it came it out when I went to visit her in Las Vegas and unbelievably we got to see it in the theater at the end of the summer when she came out to see me. I made my dad go to the theater to see it and it’s a family go-to movie.

6) Iron Man 3 -- @armsplutonic stood for a couple of hours in line to see this opening weekend and kept sending me updates from the line. She loves Iron Man.

7) Thor: Dark World -- the less said, the better. A disappointment.

8) Captain America: The Winter Soldier -- I went to Las Vegas for opening weekend to see this with @armsplutonic -- we saw it 4 times. We saw in it IMAX 3D, we saw it in 2D on a super large screen, we saw it in unreserved seats and in large leather recliners. I love this film and she loved this film and we both saw it again in the theater separately. 

9) Guardians of the Galaxy -- I took the day off from work and got my dad and me IMAX 3D tickets for the show. I don’t like IMAX 3D but my dad thinks it’s great. I did this because I knew that my dad would love the film. Last time I stood in line to get seated. And my dad LOVED this film, still does.

10) Avengers: Age of Ultron -- Again, @armsplutonic and I made the effort to meet up to see this film. We saw it in the theater a couple of times, talked about the disappointment of it, and kind of ignore it exists. It’s fine, but it’s not what we were hoping for in the Avengers sequel.

11) Ant-Man -- my niece loves this film, my nephew loves it, my brother loves it, my dad loves it, even my mom will watch it. For family movie night, it’s one of the top choices (besides Avengers and CATWS).

12) Dr. Strange and Guardians of the Galaxy 2 -- @armsplutonic won an all expenses trip from work for being employee of the month (it’s a lottery). We watched these films on the hotel dvd player in my room, eating fantastic food and drinking great wine and lots and lots of water. Seeing either of these films brings back memories of that fantastic trip and how much fun we had.

13) Captain America: Civil War -- again @armsplutonic and I met up to watch this opening weekend. We saw it once, rode back to her condo in silence, and kept talking about maybe going to see it again. We never did and we have not watched the film since we saw in the theater. I will be watching it for the first time since 2016 during my rewatch. 

14) Spider-man: Homecoming -- I’m the only person in my family who likes this film -- no one votes for it for family movie night.

15) Thor: Ragnarok -- I love love the Kirby influences in this strange amazing film. Still can’t believe that they did a It’s a Small World parody in this and got away with it. I can rewatch this at any time.

16) Black Panther -- I am so glad I saw this in theater. So glad I got to see in the theater with @armsplutonic because it was still in the theater when she came out to see IW. 

17) Avengers: Infinity War -- @armsplutonic was completely unspoiled for this. Her jaw dropped when the snap happened and the theater was dead quiet (even though this was the second weekend). Best in-person experience.

18) Ant-Man and the Wasp -- I had to explain a Marvel mid-credit sequence to my dad for the first time because he hadn’t seen IW. It was shocking.

19) Captain Marvel -- I want to see this again outside the IW sphere. I’m a little freaked out by Talos -- I don’t want to take him at face value. 

Oh boy, Endgame is just around the corner.

[kdawg87]

Bee’s Shoes

Summary: It's Bethany's first day of school and she's got the perfect outfit all picked out, until she realizes something is missing. Also posted on FFN and A03

It's 6:30 when Kurt finally pulls into the driveway after his most important mission in quite some time. He sighs and looks up to see all the lights out in their apartment, Jane and Bethany still asleep after the last weekend of the summer. He promised Bethany that he'd be back in time to walk her to her first day of school and so help him if he didn't keep that promise. Looking back at what kept him away from his family all night, he chuckles and shakes his head as he climbs out of the SUV and up the front steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bethany had spent all week going through her closet to pick out the perfect outfit for her first day of kindergarten. She had finally settled on a bright pink sequenced shirt that Aunt Patterson had given her with some black leggings that Aunt Tasha swore made her look at least 2 inches taller. Uncle Reade had given her a brand new backpack that she filled with her new pencil case set that Jane and Kurt had bought her. But the most important part of her outfit, the piece de resistance, was the wheelie shoes that Uncle Rich had gave her for her birthday earlier that summer. Not a day had gone by that she hadn't zipped up and down the apartment hallways trying to see how fast she could go.

But now as Kurt and Jane helped her get ready for bed and laid her clothes out for the next morning, the shoes were nowhere to be found. They had checked the whole apartment - inside every closet, under every bed and behind every sofa - but there was no sign of Bee's beloved shoes. Bethany had started tearing up when the shoes weren't by the front door and was now full on crying that they weren't anywhere in the whole house. Jane had even called Avery thinking that maybe Bee had left her shoes at her dorm the last time she had gone to spend the day with her big sister. No luck with the shoes, but she did leave behind her teddy bear that Avery was a little reluctant to return because she missed her little sister just as much.

Kurt thought back to where they'd gone the last few days and groaned when it finally dawned on him where they'd spent the long weekend. They'd decided to go up to the cottage at the last minute wanting to get away from the city one last time before the weather cooled down. They had spent the last morning out on the lake trying one last time to teach Bethany how to swim underwater. She loved sticking her head underwater but her life vest kept making her head bob out and she couldn't see all the fishies swimming under the surface. Kurt had bought her a pair of arm floaties, flippers, and scuba goggles to teach her how to snorkle. They'd spent all morning diving in and out of the water still trying to find their first fish. Jane had finally coaxed them out of the water for lunch put didn't manage to get Bee further than the dock. Bee was walking around in her flippers eating a sandwich as Jane and Kurt loaded the SUV for the drive home. Kurt was the first to turn around as he heard Bethany cry out. She was sprawled on the floor one flipper still on her foot and the other thrown off to the side. He ran over and scooped her up, trying to calm her down telling her that there was barely a scratch. Jane looked over and Kurt saw the same knowing look in her eyes - Bethany was exhausted and they should just head home as soon as the car was packed. Jane grabbed Bethany's towel and wrapped her up in it, bouncing her up and down to calm her down. While Kurt finished loading the car, Jane got Bethany strapped into her car seat and they began the long drive home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was well after 10 when Jane walked out of Bethany's room and saw Kurt sitting at the kitchen counter drinking a large cup of coffee.

"Planning to stay up all night?"she asked as she wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss along his jaw.

He looked down and shook his head "I've gotta go back" he said quietly.

"Go back?"

"The cottage. I've gotta go back to the cottage"

Jane raised her eyebrow questioningly as Kurt spun around in his seat.

"She came back in one flipper. Her shoes are still at the cottage."

Jane tried to convince him that he didn't have to spend the night driving to pick up a pair of shoes for a 5 year old. She had more than enough shoes to choose from and he'd already made the long drive once that day, he shouldn't be doing it alone in the middle of the night. But Kurt's fatherly instincts, and the fact that little Bee had him wrapped around her little finger, meant he would do anything to make sure his daughter was happy. Plus she had over a decade of schooling to go through and if she hated the first day, whose to say she wouldn't hate it forever. And so Jane finally gave in, not because she agreed but because she wanted to go to bed herself. She kissed Kurt good night and watched him pull out of the driveway and down their street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurt quietly enters their apartment and heads to the kitchen with the bag of groceries he stopped to pick up on his way home. If he was going to make sure Bethany's first day of school was unforgettable then he'd have to make her favourite chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. A while later, he hears Jane and Bethany get up and can sense that his little girl isn't nearly as excited for her first day of school as she was a week ago. Lucky for him he's got a secret up his sleeve, well two really. By the time the girls make their way to the dining room, Kurt has breakfast set on the table.

"Daddy you made my favourite." Bee exclaims as she runs into her dad's arms to give him a big hug and a kiss.

"Of course I did baby. Can't have you going to school hungry on your first day."

The pancake breakfast puts a smile on Bethany's face but it's short lived once she realizes it's time to head out for school. As she slumps her shoulders and makes her way to the front door, Jane and Kurt can tell she clearly hasn't gotten over the fact that her favourite shoes are still missing. As she rounds the corner to the front door they hear her scream out in excitement.

"My shoes!! Mommy, daddy you found my shoes!"

"Guess we didn't check the car last night while we were looking for them" Kurt says as he makes his way over carrying her backpack.

Jane looks over with a slight smirk and chuckles at Kurt's response. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, everyone knows he'd do anything for his little Bee. The three of them head out the front door hand in hand for the short walk to Bethany's school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's 9am by the time Jane and Kurt make their way into work at the FBI. Jane tried to convince her husband to take the morning off to catch up on some sleep but he insisted he was fine. As much as they want to start working on their latest case, Kurt is running on fumes and needs some coffee to make it until lunch, let alone through the whole day.

Rich walks into the break room takes one look at Kurt standing at the counter and says "Geez Weller, you look like shit."

Kurt just glares at him as Jane lets a small chuckle escape.

"I mean if you're gonna stay up all night working on baby number 2 you should at least look happy the next morning. Unless you need an extra body to make it more interesting."

The glare on Kurt's face doesn't change, in fact it looks even more deadly now. Jane cups his cheek and gives him a few kisses along his jaw letting him know that he's doing perfectly well in that department on his own, baby number 2 is only 7 months away but they're the only ones who know so far. She turns to Rich and explains the whole shoe fiasco with Bethany the night before.

Rich let's out a loud laugh as Jane recounts Kurt's all-nighter. Kurt's glare is still on Rich and even though he's not ashamed that his daughter has him under her control, he's not in the mood for Rich's regular antics.

"Sorry I know it's not funny, well not for you. Actually it's really sweet that you went through all that for a pair of shoes." Rich lets out a smaller chuckle. "It's just that Bethany told me a few weeks ago that those were her favourite shoes ever, so I bought a pair in the next few sizes so that she can grow into them."

Jane and Kurt just started at Rich, dumbfounded at his latest revelation.

I would've brought over a pair last night, but someone ignored my messages all weekend so I probably would've let you make the long drive anyways." And with that he left the room with a smug smile on his face.

[azure-witch13]

Kissing Your Tears Away (Akira/Ran. Part 3)

Hi Guys I’m ba~ck, faster than before this time. I really don’t know what to think of this chapter, I don’t think it’s that sweet, but I tried my Best hope you liked it. Also I wasn’t planning to make the progression of events be that fast but as soon as I write a certain sequence of them they tend to not change, so here we go.

Again I hope you like this chapter.

Enjoy.  

Part 1  Part 2

Ran really wanted to understand what was going on with her, the strange presence that seems to follow her around which seems to be getting stronger and stronger, the face of that man, or was he a beast? He seemed to have to faces but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t remember his face clearly.

Ran needed a break, she needed to be away from Japan for a few days, maybe weeks until her nerves calm down completely, and she won’t endangered herself or other by having a breakdown in the middle of a mission.

Ran held the phone and called the H.A center in order to set a meeting with the head of the L.A Center. She was able to get one which wouldn’t be for three days. And in that time, she could keep herself calm and start researching what has been happening to her.

If this was the work of Devilbeasts, her own psychic powers or a literal demon from hell just screwing with her, she had the right to know, so that she may deal with it appropriately.  And thankfully her sleep last night had been quite nice, she couldn’t help but remember a sense of peace and love. Which startled her.

‘Where did that thought come from?’  she couldn’t help but ask herself, things truly have been far too strange.

She sat in her living room, surrounded by books and her laptop. She spent hours searching and sending Emails to historians and Doctors that worked for the H.A to try and help. Each sent her works that had been crossed referenced with everything Devilbeasts related and any work that was taken from christian mythology. The more she read the more frustrated she became. She marked a passage and decided to take a small break.

Suddenly the vase that had been set on the table fell to the ground and broke into pieces. She was startled so much she jumped off of the couch she was sitting on, and looked at the vase wide eyed and confused before she heard a distinctly male, familiar voice in her mind panickingly asking.

‘How did that just happened?’  

“What?” she asked aloud, looking around the room for the source of that voice.

‘What?’ Was heard again. And this time she found the source of that voice to be in her head

‘But why would… I see telepathy…” she thought. “Is anyone there? Can you hear me?” she asked. No one answered. ‘Is anyone there? Please, if you can hear me, please answer me.” But no answer came.

Ran bit her lips. ‘The same presence as before. I see. So you are a real person. Well if you don’t wanna talk and don’t wanna hurt me I’ll asum you’re just shy,” she gave the room a smile and a shrug. ‘My mind is always open if you wanna skip this bullshit cryptic warnings and just tell me what’s going on, Mister Ghost, ok?”

Ran finally after not hearing the presence in her mind again sighed, then brought her broom and removed the broken glass on the floor. Then get her purse and get out of this place, she had became a little claustrophobic being in this room for the past… five hours...fuck.

‘Well Mister Ghost, I’m heading out, you’re welcome to come with me or stay here until I come back.’ and with that she picked up her purse making sure she got everything she needed and left the penthouse without one look back with a small smile on her face.

For the life of her she couldn’t understand why she was happy. The fact that a strange presence has been following her, for at least the past five days, should be reason enough to panic and scream, but she just didn’t feel the need to do any of that. Ever since that phantom touch removing her tear away she had felt more at peace than ever before in her life. She was exhausted sure, but peaceful. Then hearing his voice, and knowing that that voice belong to that presence that has been there, it made her happy, it just made her happy to know that he was there, that she could talk to him even if he won’t reply back to her, she didn’t care. It felt right, not perfect, but at least it felt right. Like a step in the right direction. Just like when Jun had transformed for the first time into Devilman Lady. It was just right.

‘So~ that just happened?’

This day began of course with Asuka waking up, She had looked well rested which made Akira smile for a reason he will not allow himself to think of. He kept an eye on her through her morning routine, then hovered leaning on the table in the second half of the living room while she sat surrounded by a lot, and he means a lot of books actual stacks of them.

‘Where did that thought come from?’ was heard in his head and he froze. That was not his though, that was not his mental voice, what… what just happened? Did he read Asuka’s thoughts or something? This isn’t good, she shouldn’t know he was there at all, he had to remain with her if there was any chance to find Ryo. So despite his curiosity, he said nothing, and tried nothing to communicate with Asuka, and just continued to keep an eye on her while she kept researching.     

The only reason Akira could honestly stand to do nothing for all of the five hours that Asuka had been sitting and researching is because for the last years that even he had stopped counting long ago he had been in hell, and there where you are not running or fighting for your fucking life, you generally stand around doing nothing. At least here he didn’t have to listen to the screams of the damned everywhere he went. And to top it all off he had a very beautiful woman and the sights  out of the window to look at, so he’s not gonna complain.

At times his mind would go to Jun, thinking of her, hoping she’s OK, wanting to check on her, to look at her beautiful face and know that nothing bad had befallen her. But if something had happened to Jun he knew Asuka would be the first to know. So that had put his mind at ease multiple times.

Akira’s soft smile had never left his face every time he focused on Asuka. It was the little things that kept reminding him of Ryo. The way she sits, the way her eyes glaze her hand on her cheek, the way her nose scrunches up and eyes narrow when she thinks she found something interesting.

When Asuka got up to get her purse Akira shifted slightly and his had hit the vase. Usually his hand would go through it like a ghost which what he thought was gonna happen to his shock and amazement his hand hit the vase, which sent it to the ground crashing into pieces making Akira’s jaw hit the floor.

‘How did that just happen?’ Was the panicked question going through his head.

“What?” Asuka asked looking around the room and not the broken vase.

‘What?” his mental voice was squeaking. Asuka tried to communicate with him. He tried with all his might to keep his mind black and not to respond to her, yes it was useless but he was panicking at this point and had no idea what to do, he wasn’t ready to confront or talk to her, this wasn’t fair.

Finally she decided that she probably not gonna get an answer out of him and basically invited him to go out with her to whichever… he was now a welcomed presence in the life of a Ran Asuka...  

“What?!”

He finally decided that he won’t follow her… this time, see if she senses his absence. He decided to try to left something again. Maybe this his presence was getting stronger as a ghost, he could somewhat interact with the physical world. He tried again, and once more his hand went through the book he reached for.

Then that meant only one thing, his apelties are tied to Asuka somehow, the more he stayed in her presence the stronger and more solid he became.    

‘Ran Asuka…’

[pandabearlikes]

No News

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5

Chapter o1. Absentia

They shake their heads, lips flatten, and voice crippled within their esophagus, unable to repeat the same words of torment.  No news.

It’s been…

one…

two…

thirty…

ninety…

two-hundred fifteen…

five hundred and nineteen days since his disappearance, since I’ve had to exit the military base with the same conclusion.  Brief moments, soft whispers, discussions of sympathy ensue by people in the background, who wished to help but could only deliver the statement, “no news.”

They see my small smile and the soldiers' eyes gloss over.  Another bows his head low, the third pats me on my calm shoulders.  Again, the corner of my lips push upward and I graciously bow.  What they don’t know is that…to me…no news now meant, “good" news.  It meant, I could still continue on with this hope that perhaps tomorrow’s answer may be different.

“Maybe it’s time to let go…” they suggest as they catch me staring absent-mindedly out the window as if waiting for someone to appear at the street corner and race down the yellow brick road up to our house…he’d smile that precious grin of his…his deep dimple brightening up my day like the star in the night sky…

I keep quiet.  My thumb swirls around in circular patterns along the ornate frame that encased the photo of my love.

“YiXing wouldn’t want you to hurt like this for him…” my lover’s comrade, Park Chanyeol, pats the back of my hands.  His remark summons the first quiet tear.  The solo droplet disturbs the tranquility of YiXing’s grin on the invaluable photo.  His friend squeezes my hand and continues.  I know my breakdown is not what he wills, but it is also what he wills…to tear down the last bits of hope that kept my facade in place.  “With all the evidence they found…and all the blood at the base that they tested and confirmed belonged to YiXing, you can file for a declaration of death in absentia…”

Why would I want to do that?

My nails dig into his palm.  Chanyeol clenches his jaw, hiding back any reaction as he watches his words seep into the crevices of my heart.

“…that way…you can move on…”

It’s as if time stopped…as neither of us breathe…and I think to myself…wouldn’t this be better.  Better…in that to me anything was better than accepting that I’d never get to see YiXing ever again - never get to hear that angelic voice of his that used to lull an insomniac, like me, to sleep in the matter of seconds.  Never be able to snuggle into his warm chest…never able to kiss those sweet lips…

I’d rather never breathe ever again…

Before I know it, rivers of tears stream down my cheeks - the bridge of my nose washes over in plum.  By now, my nails have penetrated through Chanyeol’s skin.  I choke back tears, ignoring his unwavering stare in my direction.  

“…Ho-how…can you say that?” I squeeze out.  

A tear seeps out of Chanyeol’s eyes, so foreign and uncharacteristic of a soldier who survived an explosion, had to have layers and layers of painful skin grafting, but did not shed a single tear.  

His lack of response kindled my inner torment.  I whip my head around and throw him a glare.  A mere housewife challenging a brave warrior; I must be stupid.  I must be foolish.

“He’s gone…” he whispers.

Instantly, I turn around, rejecting his criminal words, that condemned me to the tormented life of a widow.  I hug the picture frame close against my chest and try my best to block out Chanyeol’s presence but the stubborn man holds me by each side of my arm and forces me to turn to him.

“Wake up!  He’s gone.  YiXing is dea-“

A hard slap crashes across his handsome face - a punishment I know a kind-hearted and caring man like him did not deserve.  But he is a warrior, who stood up bravely in the front lines of destruction and I am a coward that runs away from reality.

“He is not!” I spat back.

“HE IS! You know it! I know it! Everyone knows it.  There was no way he would have survived the explosi—“

Another slap.  The throbbing pain aches his heart more than the permanent scars that covered his muscular body.  But he stares at me, undefeated, with those intense eyes of his as if waiting for me to crumble.  

“He is GONE!”

Slap.  My palms pulsate in burning sensations that shook my entire body.  The water flooding my cheeks opposes to the fire like two rivaled elements.

“He-“

Slap.

“H-“

Slap.

Those eyes, born to spread happiness and delight, fire and courage, overflow with rain - yet, they continue to drill into mine.  

“He’s gone…” Chanyeol whispers, so faintly that for a moment, I think it’s my own imagination.  I lift up my hand to land another blow but these shaken cells of mine have long lost all energy.  Before the first wail breathes its first ounce of oxygen, I find myself crushed against Chanyeol’s chest.  His large palm cradles the back of my head as I struggle to free myself out of his…his…unconditional love…that suffocated me.  But at the same time, my self destruction, suffocates my male companion.  I punch and kick him, desperately trying to release his inner turmoil.

“You are his best friend!  How could you let him die?!” I wheeze, striking Chanyeol right in the center of his heart.  His face falls as he stuffs me back into his protection, hooking his chin atop my head.  “How could let him die?!  You promised me before the two of you left for duty that you’d bring him back safe and sound…” I wheeze, cowardly directing the blame onto the one person who should not receive it.  The next statement I make is one that I’ll come to regret for the rest of my life.  “It should have been you,” I say without emotions.  Chanyeol’s coaxing strokes halt.  He freezes there as if allowing my harsh words to replay in his mind over and over again.  As if it weren’t enough, I lift my head out of his arms, narrow my eyes up to his, and make clear, “You should have die—“

His lips presses against mine.  He’s not sure why…that is the solution he came up with…so he would not have to hear the completion of such a tolling remark.  So as to relieve me of such a sin…or perhaps, it is the one selfish thing he has wanted to do for years but never had the courage to do. How foolish did that sound…?  A soldier, who did not fear being set on scorching fire, lacked the boldness to pursue the woman he loved…

I stay there, paralyzed by Chanyeol’s actions…remaining quiet as his tears collect onto my cheeks, stream down my neck, following the path to my heart.  It is the first moment where I finally settle to the dwelling reality…the first moment I finally wake up from my unstable emotions and begin to process the recent sequence of events between Chanyeol and me.  My glassy orbs dart right to left, trying to read the man’s thoughts to no avail as his usually telling eyes were snapped shut.  His wet lashes protect him from this painful reality - the truth that he broke his promise to the girl he loved, the truth that his comrade and best friend died, the truth that he had uneasily stayed alive after rounds of medical resurrection, just for me to tell him he should have died.  

A tear rolls down the corner of my eye.  Silently, I stay still and wait for Chanyeol to make the next move but he too, opts to lengthen this prized moment.  His lips are cool against mine.  I allow scenes from our childhood to replay in my perplexed mind.  He lets my lasting words sink deep into his wounds.  It’s not like I did not know of Chanyeol’s affections, it’s that I made the conscious decision to act ignorant all these years as to keep both YiXing and him by my side.  It’s not that Chanyeol didn’t know my words were only misdirected sorrow, it’s that he made the conscious recognition that no matter what he did, he could not replace the spot in my heart, once held by YiXing.

Slowly, Chanyeol parts his lips from mine, releasing me of his hold.  As he walks away, the salty taste of his parting tear lingers on my tastebud.  

Chanyeol…My lips part to say, but don’t make a sound as I watch him exit the door.

`

A month later, I hear of the news during a regular visit to the military base, that Chanyeol had signed up to go back on duty, despite his yet fully healed injuries.  In fact, with the extent of his battle wounds, he had been pardoned from needing to ever serve again.  

“Where is he?” I bunch the hem of my blouse into my right fist and ask.

They direct me to wait in his room, stating that he’d be back from training in half an hour.  For the first time, I get a glimpse of what life YiXing and Chanyeol lived as soldiers fighting for the country.  Simple blankets, cot beds, pillows solid enough to cause me days of neck ache.  The colors of olive green and ivory builds a world of utter stillness…all but one small pastel pink frame hidden under his pillow.  I flip it over against my palm.  Brows waver at the recognition of my own photo.  A note beside it reads, “For her smile…”  My lower lip ripples.

Just then, two men’s voices echo down the hall.  Within seconds, the door swings open.  Both soldiers freeze to my presence.  A brief twinkle sparks in Chanyeol’s eyes before he forces himself to suppress it.

“Chanyeol-ah…” I whisper, breaking the silence.  

“Ahh, I see you have a guest, Chanyeol.  I’ll go next door and borrow their floor tonight!  You enjoy!” the shorter soldier tries to break the heavy tension with his humor.

Instead of breaking into laughter, my vision runs down Chanyeol’s bare upper body, that covered in countless scars and burns.  I suppress my urge to break down while the soldier hastily rummages the shelves for a clean uniform.  Quietly, I wait for Chanyeol to finish getting dressed.  He takes the empty spot, beside me, on his cot.  A wave of silence engulfs us as neither of us wish to disturb this moment of calm.  In those brief moments, for the first time, I give this man my undivided attention.  My eyes marvel at his gorgeous side profile, his cute elf ears, down his arms, his large hands there were made to carry large machineries, and long legs that he had to place hip width apart so his knees wouldn’t collide with a mini table beside the bed.  Compared to my petite, dangling legs, his seems to belong to a giant.  

“Chanyeol-ah…” I break the silence for the second time and turn to him to say.

“Mmhm…” he nods but forces himself to not turn to me.

“…I heard you signed up to go back to the front lines…” I start, almost fearfully.

“Mm…” he nods and tilts his head up for a brief moment, hoping I don’t catch the glossiness of his eyes.

My own begin to sting.  “…but your injuries aren’t fully healed yet…” I vocalize the first excuse.  Little did I know, to him, the deepest injury within in heart, could never be fully healed.  Subconsciously, my fingertips run up a deep scar along his left lower arm.  When Chanyeol fails to come up with a plausible response, I add in, “Even if you want to rejoin, is there really such a rush?”

My concern summons a half-tremble on the beautiful man’s lower lip, in which he immediately turns away to pacify himself.  His train of sight lands on the pink picture frame.

Swallowing the lump on his throat, he nods, “Mmhm…”

Unknown to me, my hold around his arm tightens.  I too bite back the urge to cry.  

“Whe…when are you heading off?” I furrow my brows.  

“Tomorrow,” Chanyeol honestly notes to which I fail to hide my worry.  Both of my hands wrap around his arm as my brain cripples with fear of not only having lost YiXing, but may also lose Chanyeol.

Liquid wells within my orbs as I inquire, “Do you have to go?”

If only I knew…that this time, his mission was not to protect the country’s people…but a personal resolve to protect my happiness…to bring back YiXing…or die doing so...I would have…I would have...

“Mmhm…” Chanyeol now has his chin permanently tilted up to suppress his emotions to the lingering thought that perhaps, this is our final meeting.

Can you not go?

My heart swells with agony and my breathing starts to cease.  It’s the familiar feeling I often encountered sending YiXing off…but for some reason, this time, perhaps already with the death of YiXing still fresh, the possibility of losing Chanyeol felt so raw and real.  With YiXing, I learned that the biggest support to a soldier was to let him go and fight the battle he needed to fight.  Any clinging would only cause him or her to carry a burden to the front lines.  But today, beside Chanyeol, the man who loved me most in this lifetime, I couldn’t help myself but cling on. Naturally, I hug onto his left arm and maneuver my head to rest against his shoulder.  The rare intimacy pulls on the man’s heartstrings; he snaps his eyes shut as if by doing so he could snap himself from this moment he wanted to prolong for the rest of his life.  

“I’ll…wait for you.  So promise me, you will come back to me, safe and sound,” I try with all my might to say calmly but half-choke.  

A stream trailing down Chanyeol’s cheek sparkles under the moonlight.

“If…” my voice quivers, “…If you don’t come back—“

For the second time, Chanyeol cuts me off with a kiss.  Only, this time, instead of the soft and reserve peck, this kiss is hast and fervent.  The familiar salty taste slips onto my tongue.  Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him back, for the first time, returning his feelings with the same amount of passion.  His lips are warm, his breathing, labor and hot against my cupid’s bow.  As he peers into my eyes, I suddenly feel the urge to get on my knees and beg him not to go.  They say, a female’s intuition is enough proof.  But Chanyeol buries my thoughts with another kiss.  Our hands roam - mine follow the endless trails and bumps along his skin - his mold around the feminine curvatures of my body.  For a brief moment, he stops to gaze into my eyes.  I nod in consent.

Our lips reunite as he lowers me onto the bed.  Fingers slips through fingers.  His larger physique hovers over me like a shield.  I tug him to lower him and close the distance.  He is so warm and lovely, I press him against me, hoping, wishing, praying for this moment to last forever.  For, neither of us know how long I must wait for him to return home but in this single moment, with him so close, he was safe and sound.

I graze his soft lips with an amble amount of sweet kisses as I rid him of his army uniform.  In turn, Chanyeol trails his lips down my jaw, neck, shoulders, and collarbone, discarding anything blocking us from this raw exchange of affections.  

He is strong but not forceful, though an ounce of desperation is evident in each movement.  Sweat mixes with tears, the condensation cools our fire.  Each pulsation becomes a source of healing for the both of us.  I become married to the idea that life with Chanyeol would be the new beginning I had been waiting for, for so long…he was the courage I needed to face the painful occurrences of reality.  

I let out a soft giggle in the middle of our lovemaking that, in turn, cracks a wide grin along my lover’s lips.  We pause for a moment to stare into each other’s eyes, where words needn’t be spoken out loud.  Or at least, I willed my indescribable appreciation for his love and protection to be transferred to his heart.  

“I’ve remembered where each and every scar is, on your body…when you come back, there can only be less, not more,” I plead him to promise as I press a palm against the center of his chest.  

A sad smile appears on his handsome face as he calms my anxiety down with a short nod, strokes my cheek with the back of his hand, and lowers his head to join our lips again.

A/N: Hello :)  How has everyone been? I hope well, I just finished editing this story and thought to post it to liven your spirits on hump day.  

In the process of editing a looong Sehun Historical Series that I finished during the summer ^-^ Stay tuned!

>>Story Master Archive<<

[love-laika]

As a companion to what I posted last night, here are all of the games I played this year! I’m not ready to pick a favorite yet, but you can probably draw your own conclusions from this list.

First, the games I did manage to finish

Inside is really short but totally wild. A solid if occasionally frustrating platformer that is more about dystopian horror, but like in a quiet way. It uses every second with purpose and is much better for it. I never played much of Limbo, but I think I enjoy the atmosphere of inside much more. It's really scary!!! 

i "finished" playing Starlight Stage (as much as one can) this year too. The rhythm game is pretty fun but I'm just so tired of mobage/gacha stuff. It takes up so much time and just makes me stressed. I'm tired. But if you like idol games, and haven't tried it yet I highly recommend! It's a great time to jump in 

Hiveswap! You're all probably pretty tired of my Homestuck talk, but it's a great adventure game. I hope future chapters will continue to be fun and creative and silly (and eventually probably break my heart)

Wolfenstein 2: a game that juggles lots of ideas and delivers on most of them. It deserves kudos just for being willing to tackle prickly subjects (like America’s horrific past). The shooting is fun but way too hard. Play it on easy. And no spoilers but the ending sucks, in multiple ways kinda. The set pieces around the midsection just had my jaw on the floor though

It's strange to have a brutal FPS where the story is better than the shooting in some places?

Last for beaten games is Heat Signature (again as much as you can beat a randomly generated roguelike). I am SO into its approach to stealth, where basically you are urged to think on your feet and adapt to changing situation. the simple fact that you can stop time for as long as you want and just think is really great. its less about execution and more about doing the right sequence of events for the situation

Some of my fav game moments came totally unscripted from me taking on a really tough mission and just getting out by the skin of my teeth

Now for the probably really long part, stuff I didn't finish. I'm bad at finishing things (anything) so it's not that I hated these games, but I do generally have more mixed feelings

An older game I played a lot was Burnout 3 and like that game is *chef kiss*. I used to be WAY into racing games, so this really scratched that old itch. It is, dare I say it, the best racing game I've ever played. It strikes that really perfect balance of control and chaos for each race. The AI is super aggressive so have to play offense and defense equally to get ahead. The triumph of getting gold in a difficult race is just exhilarating

I had a specific moment where it was just me and one other guy duking it out for first. He was way ahead after I got in a bad crash so for the final lap I was boosting all the way, cutting every corner, and drifting around every bend to catch up. Then finally just seconds from the checkered line, I nudged him into an oncoming car and finished. I was fucking hooting and hollering in my room at 2 in the morning

The only reason I haven't finished is that there's no real rush to. There's no story to get to, just a larger collection of cars and tracks. It’s always ready for me when I decide to come back

(brief aside) I opened up Burnout Paradise after this and while the open world is really cool to explore (one of the best for driving) it doesn't give me the same adrenaline rush. It’s too easy and the AI is not nearly as vengeful

Night in the Woods I started in like February and have barely touched and I feel SUPER bad about that. It's a good game, but I think I might be kind of afraid to play it... at first I related a LOT, maybe too much, to Mae. As the game goes on and begins to seriously judge her it started to make me seriously uneasy. I'm afraid to confront my problems and it felt like the game was calling me, specifically, out for that. Which I mean the writing must be pretty good then. I’ll get back to it... eventually

Of the games I'm bad at finishing, visual novels are probably at the top of that list just because of how long they are and the relatively low amount of direct participation. but VA-11 Hall-A is really good!!!! It's just a really solid cyberpunk bartending simulator. And Jill is like my favorite protag this year. did you know I had never seen blade runner before this year?

The reason I dropped off a bit is that I had computer problems and lost some saves. I’d need to go through like 2 hours of stuff I already read. but. Words are failing a little bit. The writing is just good y’all

The further I get from Persona 5 the less I'm in love with it. Once you get past the fantastic music and slick graphics... the writing is just kind of bad. Characters feel kind of hollow and it sends really REALLY mixed messages and society and conformity. It could be the script or just the translation but everything just comes out sounding bad. After 100 hours, forgivable flaws just get grating. I'm in the last dungeon and I don't think I'm going to finish it

Just like put a hold on Nier: Automata for me. I've started but I haven't really gotten to the parts where it supposedly kicks into gear. 2B is hot though

Breath of the Wild has got to be like, the pinnacle of open world design right? A lot has been said about Zelda so I’ll skip the main stuff. My favorite thing is how physical your interactions with the world are. The game encourages you to play with its systems and see how they interact. Drop food into a fire to cook it a shocked enemy will drop their gear, water and metal will conduct electricity, tame your horse by riding it and correcting when it veers off the path etc.

I played just a little bit of LISA too. I like its really dark sense of humor, but the game also feels like it is sometimes actively discouraging you to play. It's interesting!!

Lastly is Metal Gear Solid V. I've thought a lot about this game because it succeeds and fails in a lot of weird ways. For now, just know this. The stealth is so good it got me to buy all of the previous games just so I can understand the series better (though I have played MGS 1 before my thoughts are basically the same as this)

The final game I played this year is Super Mario Odyssey literally this morning so I got nothing to say on that one

jesus christ there were so many games in 2017 and yet I'm still going back to ones made years ago