#the poses are in fact based off the new elevator images

[itsdefinitely]

be not afraid... probably

[turtlethon]

“The Power of Three”

Season 10, Episode 3  First US Airdate: September 28, 1996 

Lord Dregg retrieves Shredder and Krang from Dimension X. 

The tenth season of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles rolls on with “The Power of Three”. Jeffrey Scott is billed as the writer of this adventure. 

Michaelangelo has a nightmare in which he guides the other Turtles through a maze of traps, ultimately being separated from the rest of the team and falling into a pit. After waking up, Leonardo insists he has nothing to fear, but Mikey believes it’s an omen, a sign that they won’t be returning from their next fight. Meanwhile, aboard the Dreggnaught, Lord Dregg discusses the ongoing construction of the vortex transporter with Mung. Discussion moves to the threat posed by the Turtles, with Dregg revealing that having determined the active properties of the mutagen from them in the previous episode, he now intends to extract it from them and use it to increase his own power. Shifting gears again, Mung brings up the fact that during a trip to Dimension X he encountered “two evil creatures” who were familiar with the Turtles, having battled them for years. 

Remember Shredder? In a flashback to a previously unseen adventure, he’s seen working with Krang on a miniaturisation ray until the Turtles arrive to confront them. The team are shrunk down to micro-size, about to be stomped underfoot by Krang’s bubble walker. This is as far as the retelling goes, with Shreds apparently having tried to save face by having told Mung he finished off the Turtles. 

The idea of Mung just happening to run into Shredder and Krang and striking up a conversation, as is they were all in some Dimension X food court or something, raises more questions than it answers, and you’d think Dregg would avoid interacting with anyone who would concoct such an obviously bullshit story. Instead, he determines that since Shredder and Krang are “evil beings with knowledge of the Turtles and Earth technology” they may prove useful to him. 

Back in the Lair, Donatello has determined a method of curing Carter’s unstable mutations, but the friend of the team remains unsure as to whether that’s something he wants. Splinter wanders in and suggests “all creatures, great and small, make their decisions based on their own survival – but only man is capable of making decisions based on the survival of others as well.” Having made his choice, Carter declares he wants to go back to college to continue his studies and live a normal life, and so he opts to undergo Donnie’s procedure. We see him say what are supposedly his final goodbyes to the Turtles, but given that the show has teased us with the prospect of him being written out multiple times now I doubt anyone watching is buying it at this point. Michaelangelo even sheds a tear over this exit, but then this is the guy who wept at the thought that Zach could potentially be in trouble one time based on nothing, so it’s not the first time he’s grown overly attached to an annoying human character. 

At the offices of “Newspan” - which I assume is supposed to be read like “news span”, rather than evoking the image of a frying pan full of news – some guy called Bill applauds April for the footage she captured of Dregg’s ship crashing into the chop shop ring’s hideout in the last episode, promising to air it on that evening’s broadcast. Meanwhile, Dregg and Mung beam down to their new base of operations on Earth, a nuclear power plant reconstructed by the microbots. Upon arriving, Mung uses a tracker to locate the forms of Shredder and Krang, but the huge levels of power required to transport them lead to widespread blackouts in the city: as a result, April finds herself trapped in one of the elevators in the Newspan building. Elsewhere in the city, Carter watches as a streetcar slides out of control, its electronic braking system no longer functioning; he climbs aboard to try and help bring it under control. 

In the Lair, the Turtles also suffer the consequences of the power cut, the sewers quickly filling with water as the city’s water pumps have shut down, resulting in the runoff no longer being diverted to the sea. A surge of water soon knocks the green teens, along with Splinter, downstream. 

Act two opens with a shell-shocked April emerging from the elevator as power returns to the city. Elsewhere, Carter uses a metal bar to jam the wheels of the trolley, forcing it to come to a halt moments before it would have crashed into a river. He ponders whether the loss of his mutation was a smart decision after all, but decides to put the past behind him. 

Back in the sewers, the Turtles continue to struggle with the huge amounts of water being sent through the system. We get a rare late stage “cowabunga” from Mikey as he discovers what he thinks is a surfboard, only to find himself standing on an enraged alligator. Having seen off this threat, the team are pulled into a potentially deadly whirlpool. 

Dregg introduces himself to Shredder and Krang as the “conqueror of worlds [and] ruler of men”. He informs the two villains of the new powers the Turtles have developed during their absence, and suggests that they can work together to finish off the green teens. Held at gunpoint and given no other option but to comply, Shreds and Krang fight off Dregg’s bat-men and attempt to escape. 

Emerging from the whirlpool, the Turtles find themselves washed up on the coast, but have managed to lose Splinter along the way, and set out to track him down. Back in the city, Shredder and Krang are pursued by Mung and the rest of Dregg’s underlings. Stuck in a traffic jam after leaving the Newspan building, April is astonished when the two villains she had encountered so many times in the past – now thought to be banished to Dimension X – get into the back of her car and order her to put the pedal to the metal. 

The Turtles reunite with Splinter moments before receiving a Turtlecom transmission from April, who for some baffling reason thought she could get away with covertly reaching them to ask for help when Shredder is sitting a few inches behind her in the same car. Predictably, he snatches the communicator out of her hands, warning the team that “she’s in a great deal of trouble”. 

Michaelangelo is baffled as to how “Metalhead” got out of Dimension X, which is news to me, I assumed he was in a storage closet in the Lair. Oh, right, in this instance he’s referring to Shredder. Not having the use of the Turtle Van, the team request the services of a reluctant cabbie instead. The taxi pursues April’s car, one of Dregg’s shuttles also in the mix. A battle unfolds atop April’s vehicle between the Turtles and Shredder which, while brief, is probably the most exciting and well-executed fight sequence the show has put on in years. This concludes – along with the second act – with both vehicles being teleported by Dregg back to his hideout. 

The Turtles fight Dregg’s bat-men, with April picking up a stray blaster and joining the battle, managing to accidentally shoot off the bumper of her own car along the way. Still in the mix, too, is the grouchy cab driver, who had been hoping to receive a substantial pay day from the Turtles but having seen enough decides to make his exit. Shredder and Krang are tossed by the Turtles into the empty cab, which almost runs over Dregg. He again holds Shredder at gunpoint, ordering that they work together to stop the Turtles. The odds are against our heroes, but Donatello uses a teleportation control panel to fill the building with the water that had been flooding the sewer system. This provides our heroes with only a momentary advantage, as they declare that Shredder, Krang and Dregg will be heading through the transporter to Dimension X. Shredder refuses to go along with this, and drains the reactor core of the nuclear power plant, initiating an imminent meltdown. Leonardo intervenes to stop this, but is captured by Shreds, forcing the other Turtles to relinquish their weapons. 

April and the Turtles are tied up, teleported alongside Shredder, Krang and Dregg back to the Dreggnaught. It’s at this point that Dregg reveals the theft of his chemicals performed by the team at the conclusion of the previous episode was a setup – he wanted the team to use them in stabilising their mutations, the elements now genetically incubating in their bodies. This has led to the creation of a super mutagen, one that Dregg now begins the process of siphoning out of the Turtles. 

Shredder again uses this as an opportunity to try and double-cross Dregg, taking Mung hostage and declaring that he “takes orders from no-one – especially an alien!” You’d think this would be setting up a one-liner for Krang, but instead the alien brain simply orders Dregg to get on an operating table, restraining him. Shreds has Mung set up the equipment so that he and Krang can be the recipients of the super mutagen instead, potentially creating some kind of “Super Shredder” (and not a pier in sight). Instead, Dregg unleashes a cannister of his microbots which place the Foot Clan leader and alien brain in restraints, shifting the balance of power once more. Two more operating tables are then constructed by the bots, as Dregg reveals the full scope of his plan: not only will he drain the Turtles of their powers, he’ll also absorb the intelligence of Shredder and Krang, draining his enemies of their life energy in the process. 

April can only watch on in horror as Dregg carries out the procedure, becoming a bigger, more intimidating version of himself as the Turtles are seen growing weaker. A helpless Michaelangelo croaks “my dream... my dream!” as a caption appears on screen to inform us this story is “TO BE CONTINUED”, the first time such a story device has been used in the 1987 cartoon to my knowledge (outside of maybe the reruns of “Planet of the Turtleoids” when it was split into two normal-length episodes.) 

Okay, now we’re rolling. While Dregg has turned out to be the most legitimate threat the Turtles have ever faced, there’s no doubt that the show lost much of its magic when he was introduced as Shredder and Krang’s replacement, an event that coincided with the beginning of the interminable “new mutation” story arc. After enduring the Turtles stomping around in their beastly forms for more than a year now, we’ve reached the point where it feels as if something will come of it, Dregg absorbing that power for himself to become an even more intimidating enemy. 

Even if things are beginning to turn around, there’s a lingering sense throughout this episode that they could be better. Shredder is here but it’s not the one we really wanted: I wish James Avery could have been convinced to return for these last few shows, but instead we have monotone season eight Shreds going through the motions once more. As if to acknowledge that we’re getting the poor substitute version, the dialogue provided for the character barely even tries to play up the theatrical aspects of the Foot leader, or showcase his usual banter with Krang, the lines provided for both only ever routine. I would have liked to see the campy Shredder of the pre-Red Sky era show up here, not just for old time’s sake but to play up how truly ruthless Dregg is by comparison. 

Over the course of the series TMNT has had a tentative relationship with long-form storytelling, the first five episodes forming a unified arc with each still working as a self-contained affair. The following year we had the similarly constructed Eye of Sarnath arc, and later the retroactive two-part version of “Planet of the Turtleoids” mentioned earlier. More recently we had the HAVOC trilogy in season eight, which tested the waters for the ninth season where each episode felt like a single chapter of one overarching story told over the course of two months. Now, as the show enters its final stretch, caution is thrown to the wind: with the threat of cancellation no longer an issue as TMNT won’t be returning anyway, viewers are asked to return for the next episode to see how things will turn out rather than being presented with an immediate pay-off. This story will continue over the next two episodes, the first of which will be the subject of our next Turtlethon entry, “A Turtle in Time”. 

[smutbymia]

Can I request a smut where y/n is Jaehyun's ex and they become successful by their own.One day they met at an award show or red carpet or something and Jaehyun just regret it.Thankyou 😚

Jaehyun stood with his group members in a line, posing for the flashing lights that shuttered from the dozens of cameras lined up behind the barricade in front of them. They were styled to perfection for the night, in preparation for their red carpet appearance at the Oscars. After participating in the soundtrack of a nominated film, the boys of NCT 127 found themselves attending the most prestigious film event of the year -- something they hadn’t thought they’d ever get the opportunity to do. 

They each had smiles plastered across their faces as they slowly shifted their gazes across the sea of photographers, moving from section to section on the carpet alternating between photo-ops and quick interviews with the press.

Jaehyun tugged at the front of his black tuxedo and straightened his bow tie while standing tall as Johnny chatted away with an interviewer just as he heard commotion at the other end of the carpet. He watched out of the corner of his eye when the photographers seemed to move in the same direction of the excitement.

Jaehyun shrugged it off, still trying his hardest to continue focusing on his groups interview. It wasn’t until he heard the voice of a photographer shout your name that his entire demeanour finally shifted. The cool, calm, collected image he had upheld all night began to falter. He watched as Mark — who was stood on the opposite end of the line lifted his gaze to peer discretely past Jaehyun’s head in your direction after clearly hearing your name as well. His eyes met Jaehyuns as he gave him a warning look. A look that told him to keep it together because there were millions of people at home watching through the cameras that were capturing every moment in real time, and broadcasting live across the world. 

Jaehyun tried his best, he really did. But he couldn’t resist any longer. He turned his head to look back at you. You stood on the marked spot of the runway in front of the cameras in a floor length white gown that made you look as though you had stepped out of Heaven itself. Your leg dangled out from in between the slit of the stress and your hair cascaded down your back. You took your position before alternating between a series of poses as you worked the cameras. Compliments spilled out from behind the cameras as paparazzi bombarded you with instructions on where to look -- to the right, to the left, up high for the ones in the back row, etc. 

As you shifted your gaze to a different section of photographers you mistakenly met Jaehyun’s own. The two of you locked eyes — with you pulling away at first, completely taken aback by your exes presence. Jaehyun however kept his gaze on you and continued watching intently as you worked the red carpet.

“Jaehyun?” the reporter called, as her voice interrupted his thoughts of you.

“H-huh? I’m sorry!” he said before flashing a dimpled smile and making the interviewer melt, “there’s just so much going on. The red carpet is so exciting!” he chuckled, and just like that he was in the clear — sort of. The interview wrapped up shortly after and all was well before the rest of the members gave him a knowing look once the cameras were no longer rolling. 

Jaehyun sighed deeply, glancing back at you once more as he admired your bright smile that was on full display during an interview. He missed you, he thought to himself. 

You had dated for a few months before you decided to move to LA. Originally the plan was to stay in Korea and settle down with Jaehyun but after he failed to uphold the promises he had made about finally going public with your relationship you decided that you couldn’t put your life on hold anymore for him. No one, especially you, deserved to be somebody else’s  secret. 

You moved out to LA and pursued acting. In just a few years you had finally worked your way up in the industry and were notorious for playing lead roles in indie films by some of the best directors in Hollywood who had grown tired of casting the more well known stars. Ironically that is what had turned you into a household name — as you completely found your niche within the genre.

But how did it feel seeing the boy you were more than willing to give up on your dreams for? Surprisingly you were okay. It hadn’t been easy and you needed to work through a lot of your issues over the years to get to a place where your pain and resentment towards your ex no longer consumed you. Being in such close proximity with your ex and feeling confident was certainly an improvement, you thought to yourself. 

Besides, you had found your own footing in the world and your own level of success as well. Though you both were famous celebrities, you both existed in two different worlds that rarely met -- until now. Maybe it was inevitable that one day the two of you would cross paths again. 

You blew through your interviews as others arrived on the carpet and within minutes were being ushered into the theatre by staff who were working on seating guests for the award show. You stood aimlessly by the open bar in the waiting area as your manager chattered away with the publicist of some other up and coming celebrity. 

You raised your hand gracefully to wave down a bartender who seemed to fail to notice your efforts at grabbing his attention. You sighed deeply before giving up and dropping your hand back down against the cool counter of the bar in defeat. You were hoping to get a few drinks in your system before having to sit through yet another boring ceremony. Suddenly you felt the presence of a large body behind you. You titled your head upwards to the arm that was raised high above you as the bartender finally walked over in your direction. 

“How can I help you two?” he asked. Flustered, you tripped over your words as you turned around, coming face to face with Jaehyun who seemed to be staring directly into your soul. You froze, and watched as he turned to speak to the bartender. Within minutes, two identical cocktails were slid across the counter. You sighed as you watched jaehyuns slender fingers wrap around the base of his glass as you mirrored his action.

Just then a photographer approached the two of you inquiring about a photo op. You smiled sheepishly as onlookers directed their attention to you. It’s not like you could refuse. Not on a night like this. It would look terrible on your part. So instead you stepped closer to Jaehyun and though he hesitated slightly, you felt his hand rest on the small of your back.

You offered up a sheepish smile as he remained stoned face as he usually did in pictures at events like this. After a few clicks and a few extra stares the photographer moved on. Jaehyuns members lingered by as they tried not to make it too obvious how surprised they were at the interaction. Once it was over they swooped in almost immediately.

Many of them offered you quick greetings but it was Mark who lingered to speak with you as they managed to create some distance between you and Jaehyun.

He spoke quickly and quietly. From the perspective of outsiders it looked like harmless mingling but his words carried weight.

“We can all tell that he misses you a lot, y/n. But we’ll do our best to make sure he doesn’t get in your way anymore,” he stated. Your heart froze at the new revelation.

You opened your mouth, hesitating a little before you spoke. “It’s okay,” you began, “it was a long time ago. I’m okay. You don’t have to coddle me.”

It was true that Mark had a tendency to get that way. Him and Johnny knew better than anyone else what had happened between you and Jaehyun and the two scolded him every chance they could get about the way your relationship turned out. They were all your friends before the romance between you and Jaehyun blossomed.

“It’s not you that we are trying to protect this time,” Mark confessed, “to be honest, it’s Jaehyun. He took it hard. Even though he knew it was his fault he suffered a lot and is full of regrets. We know you’re doing well now but... he hasn’t really been the same.”

You looked over Marks shoulder and locked eyes with Jaehyun who was engaged in what seemed like a deep conversation with Johnny that you were sure must have been similar to the one Mark was having with you right now.

His expression was downcast, yet stern. He seemed bothered by what he was hearing. You were almost certain Johnny was telling him to keep his distance from you but you couldn’t help the feeling in your heart... a feeling that made you wish you could hear these things directly from him instead.

The rest of the night proceeded accordingly though you couldn’t shake the feeling in your stomach. Good thing you were an actress because between presenting and carrying home your first award, you needed to really sell the fact that tonight was the best night of your life despite the fact that you were hurting a bit inside.

Next was the after party and yes, it was intense. Drug and alcohol fueled events were a regular occurrence in Hollywood and soon enough everyone was under the influence of something. There was a reason it was kept in the most exclusive hotel in the city and that reason was because people usually got so fucked up that the convenience of being able to be one elevator ride away from their beds was a complete blessing.

You called it a night quite early. You drank congratulatory drink after drink and decided that it was far better to leave while you could still somewhat see clearly. You had made your excuses and encouraged your team to stay around to party as you went back up to your room alone to get ready for bed.

You were all changed into a silk nightgown when there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was just room service, you went ahead and opened it up but to your surprise Jaehyun stood there alone. He leaned against the door frame with a half empty bottle of wine in his fist as his head hung low.

“Congratulations on your award,” he slurred as he held the bottle out to you. You were in complete shock. You poked your head past the door, hoping no one had seen him standing there. You planned on telling him to leave when you heard the dinging of the elevators bell as voices rang out down the hall. In a moment of pure panic you quickly dragged him by the collar of his coat into the room and slammed the door shut behind the two of you.

Jaehyun giggled. “Do you miss me that much?” He asked as he reached for your waist. Locking you in his embrace.

“Jaehyun are you crazy? You can’t just show up at my door like that. Lots of people are staying on this floor. Someone could have seen!” you scolded.

He placed the bottle down on a piece of furniture before putting the palm of his hand to your cheek.

“I’ve always been crazy haven’t I? Who would have thought it would be you wanting to keep us from being seen... after all this time,” he said as his voice dropped.

Your breathing became laboured as his eyes gazed deeply into yours.

“I’m so sorry. I should have never kept you a secret,” he confessed. “I regret trying to hide you from the world. Now that they get to see you, they get to love you too. Everyone who gets the pleasure of getting to know you always ends up loving you, don’t they?” he asked. He offered up a weak smile as the dimples in his cheeks went on full display again.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” you answered. You covered his hands with yours as you drew it away from your face. You could see the sadness return to his expression.

Jaehyun blinked a few times. “Ah, I think getting so emotional just sobered me up a bit,” he winced as you watched his cheeks begin to blush.

“Mark and Johnny are going to be really upset with me when they find out that I came up here. I’m sure they already know by now,” he said. Jaehyun still held you in his grasp. You attempted to pull away but he refused to let you go.

“Please...” he pleaded as he felt you try to put distance between the two of you “please, y/n. Let me at least hold you for a little bit longer.”

He let out a deep sigh before engulfing you in a hug. You hesitated before wrapping your arms around his neck and could feel him relaxing under your touch instantly. Jaehyuns hands ran down the small of your back and grabbed at your waist as you could feel the desperation and yearning in his touch.

What was only a hug started to feel more intimate. Before you could stop yourself, you felt your hands yearning for more of him too. You ran one of your hands up the nape of his neck and into his hair as he burried his face into your neck — the warmth of his breath on your skin sending tingles down your spine. Your back arched slightly in response, causing your chest to press into his.

Jaehyuns hands travelled a bit lower, resting dangerously close to your butt and it was enough to draw a reaction from you. You sucked in air between your lips, before letting out a soft gasp. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. You cursed yourself for falling into his trap so quickly but his energy was intoxicating.

Jaehyuns lips brushed lightly against your neck before you felt him press them against your skin, giving you soft kisses on the delicate flesh. Your breathing became heavier. You made no effort to stop him. Your body reacted on its own as you titled your head to give him more access to you.

“Good girl,” he encouraged softly as he alternated between soft kisses and the dragging of his tongue up towards your ear. You whimpered as you felt yourself officially cave. There was no way you could stop now. Not when it had been so long since you last felt like this.

He dragged his teeth back across your skin, nipping softly at the flash before dropping one his hands to palm your ass. You let out a soft moan in response as you felt his hardness grow against your stomach. Jaehyun lifted his head away from you before locking you in his gaze once more. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scanned your face.

You watched him through hooded eyes, with your cheeks flushed red as he leaned in to capture your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. You moaned against his mouth as his tongue forced itself past your lips. You suckled softly on his tongue as his hands explored the rest of your body.

This time you took the lead, deepening the kiss and dragging him with you back towards the bed in your hotel room. You pushed off his coat and tugged at the buttons of his shirt as you continued to move backwards. When you felt the duvet covers on the back of your legs you sunk down into the mattress pulling him towards you as you moved to unbotton his pants, keeping your eyes firmly locked with his.

Once he was free he discarded the rest of his clothing with ease. Jaehyun stood before you, panting softly, naked body on full display as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck...” you sighed. You could feel your nipples harden underneath the fabric of your nightgown while you tried your hardest to stop your eyes from wandering again.

Jaehyun’s lips turned up at the corners for what seemed like a mere second before his gaze went dark again. He stepped forward and reached for your face to run his thumb against your bottom lip. You couldn’t stop yourself from allowing your mouth to fall open slightly, inviting his finger to slip past your lips and across your tongue.

You suckled softly. Jaehyun used his other hand to slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders one by one. Your eyes never left his while you felt the fabric fall to your waist, leaving you topless. You stood up, mouth still full and eyes still locked to let it fall to your feet, leaving you naked.

Jaehyun’s free hand immediately grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer to his body and with a pop he removed his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with more fingers before finally switching to a kiss. Your tongue danced around his eagerly.

You jumped at the feeling of jaehyuns damp fingers against your clit as he wasted no time prepping you. Moaning against his lips, the two of you moved back towards the bed — this time, with Jaehyun settling in between your legs.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly. Your chest rose and fell with each passing second as you waited for him to speak again — fingers still brushing against your clit as you moaned quietly.

“I ruined everything. But, I want to make it up to you. Even if it’s just this once. Even if it’s the last chance I get. So be good for me, okay? Just for a little while longer” he said as he lowered himself to your core.

You were a writhing mess as you waited for his tongue to finally connect with your flesh and when it did... fireworks.

Maybe it had been too long or maybe he just knew your body better than anyone else but within seconds you could feel yourself getting closer to your peak. Jaehyun flattened his tongue against your lips, running it up and down your slit at a sensual pace. It was so good, but not nearly enough. He was teasing you and pleasing you all at once.

On occasion he would flick himself against your clit, watching as your body convulsed at the contact before pulling away again and watching you slowly get further away from your orgasm once more.

“M-more, please,” you begged as you reached your hands between your legs to rope in jaehyuns hair. He continued to work at your core before lifting his head slightly. You raised your hips to chase after him, not wanting to lose contact, as he chuckled to himself softly.

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?” he taunted as he teasingly ran two fingers down your slit, coating them in your juices. You groaned as you watched him put both fingers in his mouth, humming to himself.

“I can’t help it. You taste so good, I don’t want to rush,” he murmured.

“Baby, please” you cooed. Jaehyun froze momentarily.

It was a low blow. You knew calling him the pet name would bring him into a more submissive state but you were desperate at this point. You could feel the shift in the power dynamic as you used the hand you roped in his thick locks to pull him back down to your center.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me. I want to cum all over this pretty mouth, baby” you said. Jaehyun’s mouth hung open as he watched you in what seemed like a daze as he nodded softly before returning to what he had been doing before.

This time there was no teasing. He went immediately to your clit — lips engulfing the soft bud as he lapped at the flesh. You couldn’t resist wrapping your legs around him, slightly squeezing his head with your thighs to resist the intense amount of pleasure you were feeling.

You moaned as he forced your legs back open again, giving you no choice but to accept exactly what it is you had asked him for. Despite submitting to you so easily, he refused to let you off the hook.

Jaehyun slipped two fingers past your entrance and pumped them vigorously in and out of you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, releasing it with a pop before repeating his actions.

“Let me taste you. Cum for me,” he urged.

Just then, you granted him his wish as your back arched off of the bed and you felt your orgasm wash over you. Jaehyun didn’t let up. He continued to pump at your core without interrupting as he lapped away at your juices.

“Fuck, you’re dripping. I have to feel this,” he said. You continued to convulse under his touch as you let his name slip from your lips over and over again.

You felt his fingers retreat as he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, making you shutter each time he brushed against your sensitive clit.

You only had a few minutes of rest before he was inching himself into you slowly before finally bottoming out. You moaned, still sensitive from your first orgasm as he began thrusting. He started off slowly, savouring the feeling of sliding in and out of you until he was balls deep inside of you again each time.

He layed on top of you, with his head burried in your neck as he snapped his hips forward over and over again. Soon it was just too much. The both of you seemed to have forgotten where you were because the way he moved and the way your voices filled the room made it seem as though you were the last two people left on earth.

“I’m going to —“ he tried to warn as his words were interrupted by his own moan. His pace got slower as he continued to bury himself into you over and over again.

You pulled his face to yours into a final kiss as you worked your hips against his. Your lips parted along with jaehyun’s as your kiss broke. They brushed against each other as you refused to pull away completely just as you both reached your peaks together. His warmth filled you up as you both panted. Your bliss was short lived when you heard loud and violent knocks on the hotel room door followed by muffled voices.

“Are you guys insane? You’re so lucky the party is at its peak right now because we could literally hear you from the end of the hall!” Mark said as the knocking continued.

“Jaehyun, I swear to God if you aren’t out here in three seconds!” He continued.

The two of you frantically pulled your clothing back on before you threw the door open. Mark looked the two of you up and down.

“Johnny is holding the elevator so no one else can get up here. We gotta go. Oh and congrats by the way,” he said before turning on his heels and making his way towards the elevator.

Jaehyun quickly pulled your face into his hands for a kiss, promising to call you soon before Johnny yelled for him to “get the hell into the lift!” and just like that they were gone again and you were left with a feeling that you couldn’t really describe — but still a peaceful one, nonetheless. You closed your hotel door finally letting your fingers flutter across your lips as they broke into a soft smile.

[thevindicativevordan]

Any thoughts on Grant Morrison's Action Comics run? Beyond T shirt-and-jeans Superman being great.

That whole run reinvigorated my love of the character.

There have been numerous thoughtpieces about New 52 Superman, how he worked and how he didn't but these two entries really do a great job of summing up why Morrison's take on Superman was great. Morrison laid the foundation for a new generational Superman that DC completely fucked up and ran into the ground. I'll always be bitter about that, even if I had tapped out of reading the New 52 Superman books by the end due to how bad they got. Editorial and their idiotic mandates were what screwed over the potential of this take in my eyes.

Now I get that it wasn't to everyone's taste, but I cannot fathom how anyone could ever claim that Pre-Flashpoint Superman was better. If you liked Byrne's reboot better, your guy already got rebooted after Infinite Crisis. For someone like me who really enjoyed the Johns/Busiek era, that era's potential got spoiled after Johns & Busiek left, with New Krypton imploding and the awful Grounded taking it's place. When you get to the point where the best Superman book is the one starring Lex Luthor, it's time to reassess the franchise and figure out where the hell it went wrong.

Which is exactly what Morrison did. For this new Superman, Morrison mined all the best ideas of every Superman era to really give what I consider the ideal "base" for Superman. They also took pains to address common criticisms about Superman, working to correct his pop culture image. People have been complaining that Superman is "too perfect", "too unrelatable" for a long time, so Morrison addressed that. They gave Superman his balls back, and let him reacquire that Golden Age edge he had originally.

There are a lot of complaints you can make about Morrison's Superman, but I don't see how you could accuse this guy of being "flawless" or "bland". He definitely had a personality that you could describe, love him or hate him. Compassionate, but not a pushover. Clearly holding himself back, but unafraid to occasionally let loose. Flaws that were patently obvious, Clark had a temper here that could get him into trouble. There was a real showcase of anger here, of Superman being furious at the way people were treated by the rich and powerful, then doing something about it that I ate up.

I read this run just as I was coming into my teens and it hit perfectly for where I was in life. Did not want a Superman who would smile and tell me it gets better, I wanted a Superman who looked you in the eye and told you he felt that same anger, and then encouraged you to go out and do something about how you felt. That was what this run delivered in spades, and it expanded what I believed could be done with Superman.

While it totally blew my mind to see Superman acting this way the first time I read Morrison's Action Comics run, in retrospect it really isn't that different from how Superman has acted even under Byrne. One of the few traits I've seen carry across Superman incarnations in the comics is that he has a temper underneath that affable nature. "Don't tug on Superman's cape" as the old song goes. This run simply elevated that to the forefront of the character again, for the better in my eyes given I believe "Wrath" is Superman's Deadly Sin.

In fact, one of the strongest features of this run is that Superman gets actual character development over the course of the run, analogous to what Batman underwent in Morrison's Bat-Epic. While the Bat-Epic was merely Morrison re-canonizing Batman's entire history, and applying a retroactive character development storyline that culminated in Morrison's current Batman work, their Action Comics run had them attempt to craft something similar for Superman from scratch. What that meant was Morrison attempting to draw on the most important traits of every Superman era and incorporate those into this new take. So Superman had the Golden Age temper, compassion for the oppressed, and cockiness. The Silver Age supergenuis, proud scion of Krypton who cherished his Kryptonian nature, member of the Legion of Superheroes, and participant in stories that weren't afraid to get weird. Superman's wrestling with his place in the world, the importance of Clark Kent, and making journalism a key part of the character strike me as all being hallmarks of the Bronze Age. From Post-Crisis we got that Clark views himself as human and loves his adopted parents, considering them as equal to his birth ones.

One of the big frustrations for me with the endless origin stories for Superman, is that so many of them follow a predictable and stale formula where Clark puts on the suit and is essentially ready to go. Doesn't interfere with human affairs, is modest and humble, restrained in usage of his powers, it's like Clark has meta knowledge of what he "should" be, despite that he shouldn't have any foreknowledge of what a "superhero" should look like. He operates the same way at the start as he does in the modern day, and that's really boring to me. This Superman, because of the difference in powers and attitude, operated extremely different from his "present day" incarnation. Dangling Glenmorgan over the edge of a building isn't something a fully powered and mature Superman should do, but it works great to make his early days different and exciting to read about, it makes returning to that era something you can do different storytelling with. This run is the only time where I really cared that Superman is "supposed" to be the first superhero, because figuring out what that means here is a big part of how he develops.

We all know the common complaint that Superman is "too powerful" and that "nothing can hurt him" (funny how Thor never gets hit with those accusations), so Morrison made sure to show that this take on Superman could be beaten even if he could never be defeated. Events conspired to force Clark to use his brains as well as his powers to overcome the challenges in front of him.

Examples include him using his heat vision to fry Lex's equipment and escape the military, using his rocket ship to defeat Brainiac, and rallying the population of Metropolis to banish Vyndktvx. Not to say that Clark never used his brains before to win, but this run was very upfront and in your face about how important Clark's intellect is to triumphing over his foes. Can't take seriously the complaint that Superman is too overpowered when Morrison constantly showcased how even a very powerful Superman could get his shit wrecked by his Rogues.

Another example of Morrison addressing criticisms is Kryptonite. A lot of people poke fun at how convenient it is that pieces of Superman's homeworld follow him all the way to Earth. Isn't that a bit of an asspull? So Morrison made Kryptonite the power source of Superman's rocket, giving it a perfectly natural and believable reason both for it to end up on Earth, and for Lex & the military to get a hold of it since Pa Kent gave the military the rocket. That's still my preferred explanation for how Kryptonite ended up on Earth.

It also provides a better explanation for all the different Kryptonite variants. DC can handwave away the different types as a result of Lex experimenting or the different "forces" on Earth such as magic or the Speed Force or whatever creating the different variants. That to me is much more believable than Kryptonite travelling all across the galaxy yet still ending up on Earth somehow.

There have also been a lot of complaints about Superman's villains, and Morrison diligently set about reworking them. By far one of my favorite aspects of the run, was the villain revamps. Nimrod felt like a clean revamp of Terra-Man, making him into Superman's Kraven the Hunter struck me as a patently obvious route to go, wild no one has followed up on that or used him since. Metallo felt like a good synthesis of Johns take of him as an Anti-Superman weapon, and the sympathetic aspects of Corben's origin that are always there, I liked that Morrison didn't make him a total bastard before his transformation like Johns did. Brainiac got some sympathy added to him in that the collected worlds that were already marked for damnation, thus he was "saving" them in a fashion. Clay Ramses embodied toxicity as a wife-beater even before becoming Kryptonite Man, and I thought his backstory was a great way for Clark to still deal with "real" issues via a manner he could punch. Ramses is still the best take on Kryptonite Man. Vyndktvx felt like the greatest realization of the threat Mr. Mxyzptlk could pose should he decide to get serious since Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?, plus I'm a sucker for stories where superheroes fight the Devil. Drekken and Superdoom took the only interesting aspects of Doomsday (his ability to evolve and that he can kill Superman respectively), and were much more interesting characters.

And oh my God, speaking of Superdoom, that part of Morrison's Action run has aged like fine wine. I don't know if they caught wind of DC's plans for the character, or if they were just prescient, but everything that Superdoom is playing on is still sadly all too present. What Superdoom is as a character is a condemnation of what DC keeps doing with Superman: killing him off or making him evil.

When you realize what Superdoom (demand for a more violent and "realistic" Superman) and Vyn (WB/DC) stand in for, it makes the frustration Morrison is channeling much more palpable. Those two plotlines are all DC can think of to do with the character, returning to those again and again. Endlessly attempting to recapture the high of Batman and Doomsday beating the shit out of Supes in The Dark Knight Returns and Death of Superman. Overcoming these two obstacles is Superman's greatest challenge as conceived by Morrison, because both are out to corrupt and ruin the very idea of him. It's not just a physical death he faces, but a metaphysical one as well. Sadly it's a threat Superman just can't seem to lick in the real world, with more and more takes on "Evil Superman" coming.

Lois and Jimmy are great here, because Morrison actually made the investigative journalism aspect of Superman important. Lois is an active participant in the story, trying to break in to the base where Clark is being held by her father, competing with Clark for stories (I love how Morrison writes the banter between the two of them), and generally being classic Lois. Jimmy though benefitted from being positioned as a peer rather than as a kid in comparison to the two, something I wish the comics had carried forward. It looks like My Adventures With Superman is going with that interpretation at least, so I hope others do as well. Jimmy being Clark's roommate really adds to their bond, and I wish we had gotten more stories with that status quo.

Investigative reporter Clark Kent was so actively used here that it feels jarring reading other Superman runs where they tend to downplay and ignore it. Following Clark as he travels to different areas of Metropolis and actually interacts with people, instead of hovering above them as Superman, makes him feel human. Watching Clark actively pursue stories aimed at bettering peoples livelihoods, and seeing how those stories crossed with the superheroics, was one of my favorite aspects of the run. It's one unfortunately few other writers seem all that interested in, especially the New 52 writers who followed Morrison (I know editorial probably bears a lot of blame for that though).

Besides all that, this run was a lot of fun! The Legion of Superheroes showed up, their connection to Clark restored, and they got to play a big role in Clark's adventures! Krypto the Superdog! Martian colonies! Memorizing all of medicine, Superman performs a lifesaving operation! Lex using a "bullet train" to knock Clark out! 5-D imps! Rampaging robots from beyond! A Phantom Zone Halloween story! John Henry Irons suits up as Steel and kicks ass alongside Clark! Every Superman Rogue teams up to try to kill him, but Lex Luthor saves his life because that's a privilege he reserves for himself! Showcasing their trademark love for the Supermythos, Morrison took us on a tour of Superlore that demonstrated the depth and width of what could be done with Superman. Meanwhile the backups by Sholly Fisch excelled at giving us smaller, more human stories about Superman (the one where Clark meets Pa again via time travel "after" Pa has died always gives me a lump in my throat to read).

Ultimately this didn't get to be the foundation for the next generation of Superman stories as it deserved. Johns made New 52 Superman the scapegoat in Doomsday Clock for a lot of storytelling choices he did over in Justice League, something that pisses me off to no end. You want to tell me that this guy "didn't relate" to people, didn't inspire "hope"?

Like hell he didn't. This guy was Superman in every way that mattered and he deserved better than to be framed as the scapegoat for all the stupid decisions DC made about what to do with him. Greg Pak was able to do some great work with this version after Morrison, and just like how Gene Yang got a redemption work starring Superman, I hope to one day see Pak return to the character. Would love to read a Black Label Superman story by Pak that follows his take on young Superman.

All wasn't lost however. Against all odds, and Rebirth trying it's damndest to sweep everything under the rug, it looks like parts of this era have actually survived to the current Infinite Frontier era. With Morrison being heavily involved no less, both as an ideas guy and as an actual writer.

Superman & the Authority is explicitly Superman coming full circle back to the attitude displayed by his young counterpart under Morrison. Janin has outright said that the costume Clark wears here is reminiscent of the t-shirt and jeans era of Superman, and this book so far feels saturated with an energy level from Morrison I haven't seen in their work for hire since they left Action. Reaching old age and realizing he never really delivered on the high ideals of his beginnings, it's Superman putting together a team to hopefully succeed where he couldn't alone. Scathing in how it criticizes the superhero status quo, this has been extremely entertaining to read. Wish Morrison was writing 12 issues with this team, and that ultimately it will be up to PKJ to deliver on the potential is a drawback (although I've loved PKJ's Action run so far), but I'm glad to see DC finally treating Morrison and their ideas with more respect than was shown during Rebirth.

Jon meanwhile feels like an even more explicit attempt at redoing New 52 Superman. There's the updated new suit, designed to appeal to a new generation with it's streamlined look. Positioning Jon as a Superman who wants to tackle the "real" issues, with Taylor explicitly comparing him to Golden Age Superman which as I mentioned was an era Morrison tried to reincorporate into their reboot. There's the Legion of Superheroes connection which played an important role in Morrison's reboot. The rumors about Jon's sexuality are interesting, hinting that DC is willing to go outside the box with him in a way they never would with Clark. I'm excited to see what kind of Superman Jon ends up becoming, if he can deliver on the promise of the New 52 Superman all the better.

This run deserves to be remembered and to have the lessons it tried to teach respected. Probably my favorite mainline run on Superman, I hope more people come around to liking it as time goes on.

[lemonjoonah]

In Need of Orders (M)

Pairings: Seokjin x Reader Word Count: 15K Rating: M Genre: Kingsman AU, action, drama, romance, smut, comedy, rivals to lovers  Warnings: violence, swearing, public foreplay, slight dom/sub dynamics which interchange (Seokjin is a bratty switch), discussion of safeword, light bondage, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, small amount of cum eating, sexism in the workplace, referenced death of minor character, Seokjin and reader are bad at feelings.

Summary: After a disastrous mission, which lead to the destruction of your prized invention and the compromise of his cover, Seokjin is confined to your base, and placed under your command. Now that he’s stuck with little to do, he uses his time to investigate a past you simply want to forget.

A/N: AU based off the Kingsman Series, originally written by Mark Miller. There’s a mix of tech origins, the com-glasses, and poison-pen, were from the movie and the rest of the inventions are my own creation. Members will occasionally be referred to by their titles but I try and use their actual name as much as possible, here’s a list of members/characters and their corresponding titles: Reader - Merlin | Seokjin - Galahad |  Yoongi - Percival | Hoseok - Lancelot | Namjoon - (current) Arthur |

....

“No, no, no. NO! Seokjin, what did you do to my beautiful baby?!” You circle around what was once your wondrous invention. Your masterpiece of a vehicle that had taken years to get just right. When Yoongi dropped in a couple hours ago and told you to expect an unpleasant delivery you never could have imagined this. Unpleasant doesn’t begin to cover the damage done, this is an act of desecration. 

“Merlin, titles please! Without manners we are nothing,” Seokjin chides you, paraphrasing the principal motto as if it will save him from your wrath. You’ve reached your limit with him; there's no benefit you can see in maintaining pleasantries. 

“You will get my manners when you deserve them,” you growl back. “Now why did you sink my prized creation?”

“The cloaking device was faulty.” He shrugs off the loss like it’s nothing, no harm to him and therefore no foul.

“I find that hard to believe.” You’ve run this car through every test, checked every parameter, you would never have let it leave this workshop if it posed a danger to exposing agents.

“It was! I was conducting surveillance on a target when they became aware of my presence. They retaliated, so I needed a quick escape. I was on the overpass near the river, I knew there was a small oxygen tank in the glove compartment for emergencies-”

“So driving it off a bridge seemed like the best option?” You never thought you’d regret seeing the day you installed that safety feature, one that you intended for use in case of a gas or chemical assault, but here it is. “Tell me,” You look from your precious machine back to the monster who destroyed it, “What exactly were you doing when you noticed the glitch?”

“Just driving, maybe going around eighty. Does it really matter?” He sighs. “They saw me coming so I had to take cover or they would have shot me.” 

“Oh no, it works perfectly fine.” Your voice starts to echo through the workshop as your fury bubbles over. “When the user reads the manual and understands that cloaking only works when in a stationary position. I am a scientist not an actual fucking magician Seokjin! Of course you can’t travel when cloaked. If you had at least skimmed the booklet I gave you, you would have understood that!”

The technology you created doesn’t make the car invisible, instead it projects the images behind it to make it appear that way. It can only account for and cover small changes in movement, not whole vehicles travelling. Only an idiot would think that it could compensate for such drastic shifts to the backdrop. And for some reason that moron dares to continue arguing with you.  

“Booklet? That thing was a thousand pages long! You actually expected me to read that?” He counters his voice rising to combat yours.

“Oh, I’m sorry would you like me to make an audio-book for you next time? Or better yet I could make a grade school reader complete with pictures. Maybe that’ll hold your attention!”

There’s a sudden shift in his expression, with a thick smile forming on his face. “I suppose I wouldn't say no to a recording if it was read by you.” His words ooze with flirtatious mire, intent on sucking you in. 

Seokjin’s smirks and one liners have gotten him out of trouble many times with other agents. It’s not hard to see why, the man could be considered the most attractive of all your acquaintances,  but you refuse to let this drop simply because he’s batting his eyes in your direction. You grit your teeth and continue to chew him out. “Lancelot and Percival read it, I don’t see why I can’t hold you to the same standard.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll look it over.” He huffs in surrender, but even in defeat he still carries a playfulness in his tone. “When do you think you can get it back up and running again?”

“If you think I’m going to take time out of my schedule to fix this, only for you to go destroy it again, you have some nerve.” You can barely even register the destruction let alone process how much time it’ll take to repair everything. With the dents in the body work, the flooded engine, and the electrics most certainly fried, you're looking at weeks of work just to make it drivable again. But bringing it back to its full potential? That will require months of tinkering.

“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than this.” Seokjin is clearly trying to hold back a snicker, but when a small snort escapes him, all remaining control of your temper vanishes.

“Seokjin, so help me god if you don’t leave my line of sight in three seconds, I’ll do those men a favour and shoot you myself.”

He chuckles at your threat, “You’re not-”  

“One.” You reach for your holster and take hold of your gun.

“Serious.” The laughter in his face starts to fade. 

“Two.” You disengage the safety and take aim.

“You won’t actually shoot me.”

“Th-” 

“At ease Merlin.” Yoongi interjects, entering the room with his face buried in a file. His indifference is a true sign of how well he knows you. You were only going to relieve Seokjin of a few strands of hair, but maybe it’s better this way. The sound of gunfire would surely result in a slight loss of hearing, and Seokjin already has trouble listening. You sigh, lowering your pistol. 

“I can only guess you’ve both been discussing the...” Yoongi comments looking down at the remains of the car. “Accident.” 

“More like negligence,” You mutter, flicking a bit of mud off what was once a perfect paint job.

“Listen, I tried Percival,” Seokjin appeals to Yoongi. “We’ve been looking for this guy for months. I had him in my grasp,  I couldn’t risk losing him.”

“I know Galahad,” Yoongi rubs his brow as his gaze returns to the document in front of him “but there’s concern that you’ve been compromised, after reading your report there are worries that you might be identified and expose the operation. You’re on lock down for the remainder of the mission.”

“No! I’m so close to bringing him in. Just let me assist,” Seokjin pleads. You would probably feel bad for him if he hadn’t just gone and destroyed your life's work.

“The rest of the order doesn’t seem to agree. In fact they’ve called your work on this case,” Yoongi flips to another page of the file, “Reckless, irresponsible, and fails to even remotely represent their request for a covert operation...” He turns the file around to push it in Seokjin’s face. “And they’ve written those last two words in all caps, see?” 

You chuckle quietly, covering it with a cough but Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. His gaze shifts to you as he hands down the rest of the directive. “Due to these recent events, Galahad is to remain here for the duration of the operation. Under your orders.”

“Wait, what?! Why are they punishing me too?”

“It’s not meant to be a punishment Merlin.”

“The fuck it isn’t. Why can’t Lancelot look after him? It was his idea to allow him on the mission.” You admire Hoseok greatly, but in your opinion it was a bad decision to add Seokjin to the roster for this operation. 

“If Lancelot or I are seen with him then our cover will be blown too.” Yoongi reasons, “You’re the only one who operates completely behind the scenes.”

“But why do I have to be put under command of another agent?” Seokjin interjects.

“Because, you are clearly in need of orders until you can get your rash instincts under control. Just be grateful it’s not a complete dismissal.” Yoongi starts to step away with the matter settled.

There goes your peace and quiet. Unless... you call out to Yoongi with one last shred of hope. “Permission to put him under a gag order for every possible topic of conversation?”

“Denied, but nice try Merlin.” Yoongi smirks as he enters the elevator which will bring him back above ground.

Yep, you’re truly going to be living your own personal hell in such tight quarters. A small work den and communications relay located beneath a PC bang in the heart of Seoul. The base was never intended to host more than one for a long term stay. It’s purpose is for agents to stock up, gather their orders sent from headquarters, and then leave. The only person who actually stays on site is you. “Well then, the bedroom’s mine but you can take the sofa. Don’t touch what’s mine without my consent and we shouldn’t have a problem. Is that clear?” You lay down the rules quickly not wanting to prolong any further conversation with your new resident.

“Yes Ma’am.” Seokjin answers looking truly defeated for once.    

“If you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”You brush past him towards your computer, needing to assess what components you’ll need to order first for repairs.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do?” 

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You respond keeping your eyes focused on the screen.

“Could you show me how to fix it?” His unusually quiet request manages to break your concentration.

“Fix what, the car?” You glance back at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. “Why would I do that?”

“Well for starters I probably can’t fuck it up any more than it is.” He laughs but your lack of reaction kills his joke rather quickly. “It would cut down your workload. Give me a better appreciation for what you do. You would get to order me around. And who knows, you might even enjoy my company.”

He’s right, you could use the extra pair of hands, and he might learn something. “Fine, you can start by reading this.” You fling the tome of a manual at his chest, causing him to grunt from the impact. “Report to me when you're done.”  

...

“How can you even call that a couch? I’ve seen footrests bigger than that disappointment.” Seokjin comments as he enters the workshop. You slide out from under your car to find his hands tending to the muscles at the back of his neck, and heavy bags resting under his eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him exist at a fraction less than perfection in his appearance, a gratifying perk in this unfavourable situation.  

“It’s all that would fit.” You grab a towel laying on the floor next to you cleaning the dark grease of the car off your skin. Usually you wouldn’t bother wiping it off just yet, but having Seokjin in your presence has made you oddly self-conscious. “You might have noticed space is limited here.”

“Then who’s idiotic idea was is to make a base in this shoe box of a hole?” He grills you, probably intending to roast the architect of such a small site. 

“Mine actually. After the data breach a year and a half ago we needed something more secure. There’s so much information streaming to and from this location that it makes it difficult for anyone to find our dealings. It’s the perfect spot.”

“Perfect if you’re a mouse.” Seokjin takes a seat in your straight-backed desk chair. Groaning as his fingers continue to knead, moving down to his wide shoulders.

“Are you implying I’m some kind of rodent?” You glare up at him, ready to defend yourself against the slight.

“You should take it as a complement, mice are cute.” He gives you one of his famed smiles, the type where you can’t tell if he’s sincere or mocking.

“Why are you down here Seokjin?” You ask preparing to wheel back down beneath the undercarriage of your car. “I can’t imagine you’ve finished reading the manual already.”

“I did actually. This is me reporting for duty.” He throws the book down on to the floor next to you, marked and dog-eared. “Not a whole lot else I can do while on lock down.” 

“Is someone upset that Lancelot and Percival get to have all the fun? Maybe it’ll teach you to obey orders better, rather than getting stuck here with me.”

“I can follow them just fine... when they don’t conflict with the completion of my mission.”

“Not getting spotted was part of your mission Seokjin.” Your response is dry as you state the obvious.

“Yes, but so is recovering the data from that breach, before he can unload it on someone else.”

“You don’t know that he has it. That’s why you had to observe him.”

“Listen to me, Hwang’s a fence, one whose been trying his best to stay off our grid, of course he has it. Once we find him we can track everything back to his source.” Seokjin’s confidence is admirable. You can’t deny that you would like to catch the one responsible for unleashing one hell of a computer virus that caused you and many others weeks of havoc and restless nights. The worst part is you don’t even know what they were able to get a hold of, the sooner Yoongi and Hoseok can track this man down the better.

“You still should have exerted more caution, you're not the only one on this team Seokjin, people can get hurt if you're too brash.” You’re surprised to find Seokjin nodding with his head hung low. Since when does he ever agree with you on something?  “Now that you’re done with the manual, I do have work to assign that I doubt even you can mess up. Every single electrical circuit and wire needs to be removed, it’s unlikely that any have survived the flooding so it would be safer just to take them all out. I’m going to see if I can save the engine.”

Seokjin gives you a cheeky two finger salute before he sets to work behind the dash.

Thirty minutes later he’s already back at it with questions. “Do you have any speakers set up for music?”

“No, we could have used the car radio if you hadn’t submerged it, but here we are.” You usually work in silence anyway, but getting to deliver another stab of guilt is better than admitting your regular tendencies. 

“Ah no problem, I can fix that.” At first you wonder if he intends to repair the radio, but when he proceeds to hum loudly, you realize that’s not the case. Instead he treats you to a selection of unrecognizable songs which you don’t bother to ask the title of.

You let it go for as long as you can, but thirty minutes later when you move from under the car to beneath the hood needing to drain the cylinders next, you finally raise the white flag in pursuit of silence. “Seokjin, please just stop okay?”

His chuckle taunts you, “That’s what you get for pulling a gun on me yesterday.”

“If you’re not careful I’ll do it again.” Your tone turns salty once you realize that is was his intent to torture your ears.

“Can’t believe you lasted that long, I thought for sure you were going to crack after five minutes of my melodies.”

“That’s what that was? I thought you jammed your thumb and were screaming out in pain the whole time.”

“Ha ha,” He retorts. You're almost upset when he goes quiet with nothing substantial to follow up your jab, but then he opens his mouth again. “How can you work when it’s so quiet?”

“Helps me focus when there’s no distractions.” You answer hoping that he’ll take the hint and remain silent.

“But doesn’t it get lonely?”

You slow your pace as you loosen the bolts on the gasket cover, choosing your words carefully as you make an attempt to side step that minefield of a query. “I work better when I’m by myself.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Seokjin catches on to your evasion proceeding to look around the hood of the car trying to meet your eyes.

“We all make sacrifices Seokjin. This is mine.”

“If you spoke to Arthur-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to cut him off quickly not wanting to get him involved in your circumstances, but he continues.

“I’m sure he would listen.”

“Drop the subject Seokjin, that’s an order.” You take a deep breath trying not to lose more of your composure again. “I chose to work in this place for several reasons. I don’t need to explain every one of them to you.”

Seokjin is surprisingly quiet for the rest of the day. It’s doubtful that you scared him off with your temper, he’s too confident for that. It’s more likely that he’s frustrated with you’re bickering. You hang back a bit more only giving direction when absolutely necessary. If you have to live with him you might as well attempt to make it bearable for the both of you.

That night you treat him to ramen from the business upstairs, they don’t usually do take-out but they make an exception for you. He sits across from you in a desk chair slurping his noodles while his eyes bore into you. “What, do I have something on my face?” You ask, starting to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

Seokjin takes another slurp of his dish before he explains himself. “No, I’m just trying to figure you out.” 

“Please don’t.” You plead, not wanting to broach the same subject from earlier.

“You’re passionate about your work. You’re good at what you do. Your superiors trust you.” You groan with exasperation, nevertheless he persists. “You're lonely here. The order could put you anywhere and you would most likely excel, and yet you bury yourself here, in this hovel.”

“It’s not a hovel...” You mutter, but you’ve run out of energy to argue and your appetite has now vanished. Rising from your seat you bid him good night. “I’m going to bed. Clean up this mess when you're done, and try not to throw your neck out cramming yourself onto my couch again.” 

“Yes Ma’am.” He gives a muffled reply with noodles hanging from his mouth, and another fake salute.

You shake your head as you close your bedroom door behind you.

...

 “You know,” Seokjin bursts into your room early the next morning, startling you awake. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen test scores as high as these. Are you sure you’re not a magician Merlin, because these results seem too good to be true. ” 

You bolt upright in terror, “What are you looking at?”

“The start of your journey with the Kingsman.” He wanders around to sit at the foot of your bed as you drag the covers up to your chest. “I figured if there was an answer I would find it here, but I’ve never seen such an impressive resume. The last Arthur had you pegged from the beginning as the successor to your predecessor, he even recorded that his candidate didn’t stand a chance against you. You should be proud of this...” He leans to you reading the expressions on your face. “But you’re not. You’re scared. Why is that?”

“Stay out of my files Kim Seokjin.”

“Is that an order?” He asks his face still only a couple inches from yours when it pulls into smirk, looking pleased that he’s caught you off guard.

“Yes.”

“If I recall,” He closes the document in his hands, but his analysis continues, “You were moved here just shortly after Namjoon took over the position of Arthur. You were living the life before, testing and training new recruits, doling out orders and information. But then you fell into this pit. What did you do to piss him off?” 

    “Nothing, ju-just stop asking, okay? I don’t need your help, so stop trying to save me!” Your voice cracks as it reaches the point of yelling but he doesn’t back away. “Staying here alone, that was my choice. So don’t you dare try to take my one salvation away from me.” 

“I’m not trying to take it away. I just want to understand it.” He answers his tone controlled and calm while holding your gaze firmly in his. When you look away he finally gets up leaving you with your files on your dresser. 

...

A week passes and Seokjin continues to try and figure out why you chose to work in your closed off environment. Throwing out random and bizarre questions on what you might have done to Namjoon to get yourself stationed here.

“Did you expose his guilty pleasure for stuffed animals?” He asks as he helps you unbolt and remove seats, making room for the new chairs and bench which just arrived. 

“Does he have a guilty pleasure for such a thing?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” Seokjin states with a snicker.

“No.” 

“Did you lose his glasses?’’ Seokjin inquires next as he pulls the seat from the driver side all on his own. You can’t help but notice the muscles straining through the back of his shirt as he lifts the heavy chair from its place. When he turns back around for the next you berate your pitiful self-control. Yes he’s attractive, but he’s also the current thorn in your side. God must be a sadist for creating this enticing man, with such a sharp tongue and a plaguing desire to mock you. 

“He does that just fine himself, he doesn’t need me to do it for him.” In fact, you have two pairs on backup for Namjoon at all times, just in case such a need should arise. 

“Did you sneak into his house and switch the sugar to salt in his tea set?”

“That’s just cruel,” You chuckle at the idea, making a mental note to check your own sugar before your next cup of coffee. “But no I didn’t.” 

“Well that’s it then, I’m out of ideas for today.” He heaves the passenger chair next to the other with an exhausted breath. A bead of sweat drips down his brow as he collapses on the new back bench waiting to be installed. 

“Really? I’m surprised. You haven’t asked the obvious question.” You lay the statement as bait hoping he’ll take hold so you can reel him in. To your delight, he does. 

“Oh and what’s that?” His eyes light up, with the chance that you might actually tell him something informative.

“Did I destroy his favourite vehicle? I mean, that’s why you’re stuck here isn’t it?” Seokjin glares at you in frustration, his gloom making you giggle. “But the answer to that too is no, I didn’t. I’m not a scoundrel.”

“Is that what I am to you now,” He presents a gleeful smile with a raised brow. “A scoundrel?”

“Why do you look so proud about that?” Your question is full of judgement, but his delight is not swayed.

“Because, scoundrels are sexy.” He tilts his head and bites his lip with a nod as if to make a point.

You let out an obnoxious laugh. “Maybe to some. I fail to see the appeal.”

“Then what do you consider sexy?”

“Someone who’s attentive, and dutiful. You know, an adult.” You attempt to describe the very traits he appears to lack to make your point. Though Seokjin’s looks might draw you in, you are in need of something more.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s not always about the fun, I just like someone who I can depend on.” 

Seokjin’s about to respond, his mouth open with a solemn stare in his eyes when the elevator chimes. It’s doors open for you to find a haggard Hoseok with two black empty bags. You greet him with surprise, having completely lost track of time, he had mentioned that he would be stopping by to pick up supplies. 

You hurry away to unlock and ready the stock. While Seokjin rushes in, barely even letting Hoseok off the lift, launching into an interrogation about the mission and any progress they’ve made. There’s only a few short words exchanged before the man left in your charge storms away slamming the door behind him as he exits the workshop to your common room.

“Lancelot?” You call out to Hoseok with hesitation, noticing that he’s still standing in place where Seokjin left him. Stepping in you help to take and load one of his duffles with surveillance equipment he requested. After Seokjin’s barrage he looks like he might rupture if you’re not careful.  

“Please no formalities,” He sighs in exhaustion, while he too starts to pack up what he needs. “I would prefer not to be an agent right now, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“That bad?” You wince for Hoseok’s sake, he’s usually so optimistic, it’s worrisome to see him so beaten down.  

“We know Hwang’s back in Seoul, but any time we get a whiff of a more detailed location he vanishes. Yoongi and I have brought in more agents. We’re stationed in the south end of the city now, trying to keep an ear to the ground.” He zips up his case and then turns the conversation to you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine I guess, but Seokjin’s been looking into my assignment here. He keeps trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Hoseok is one of only a few who know why you chose such an assignment, and you would like to keep it that way.

“Maybe you should give it a smack then. Or better yet put him on a leash.” Hoseok finally breaks into a smile as he pats you on the back. 

“He’s not a dog Hoseok.”

“Really?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows as if it’s news to him. “Cause he looks at you with those puppy eyes all the time. I’m surprised you don’t see it.” 

 “I don’t need someone who doesn’t listen to me Hoseok.”

“Okay yes, that accident with the car was a major misstep on his part...”

“And the constant prodding into my past?” You groan, you were hoping Hoseok would have your back immediately. Why does he have to take the role of impartial referee when you need his bias the most?

“He probably thinks you’ve been wronged, and that you deserve better. Is it not natural to what's best for those we care about?”

You tilt your head starting to question your fellow agent’s sanity. “I doubt that’s the case Hoseok, he just likes to be nosey.”

“Fine, have it your way, live in denial. I’m sure he’ll be out of your hair soon anyway. But if I were you I would try and explain the situation. He might not be living here but you’ll still have to work closely with him in the future.” 

“You’re saying I should tell him?” You challenge his suggestion, he must be overworked since he’s definitely not thinking clearly. 

“I know it won’t be easy, but if he knows what’s really bothering you, he might try to be more tolerable.” He lugs the cases off the table crossing the straps over his chest.

“Either that or he’ll use it as ammo to really gun me down.” You curl your lip at the thought pacing behind Hoseok as he moves towards the elevator to head back above ground. 

Before the door closes between you he holds it open to give you the support you wanted along with a sigh. “I really don’t think that’ll be the case. But if he does... I’ll be your witness when you tell Arthur you shot him in self-defence.”

“Deal.” 

...

You find Seokjin on the couch with a pile of files and a coffee on the small table, his brow furrowed and his mouth pulled tight as he scans through each one at a rapid pace. 

“I take it you weren’t happy with his update?” You call out as you enter the room advancing towards him.

“No, I wasn’t. They had to pull in lower level field agents because I can’t be out there to help them. We probably would have caught Hwang by now if I was still working on the case.”

“Seokjin, I have every camera in the city looking for him, there’s not much else we can do from here. And your not going out there to track-”

“I know I’m not Merlin. I just want this to be over so I can get my shot at redemption.”

You nod looking down at the files in front of him.“What are those?” 

He lets out a panicked laugh as he tries to scrounge them together. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Seokjin.” You draw out his name with intent to reprimand, leading him to respond with a nervous grin. He shifts his hands away giving you a better view of what he’s up to. 

“Since you said I couldn’t look through your files I thought I would take a general overview of those you’ve trained or worked with.”

You shake your head, tired of this never ending battle between the two of you. “You’re not going to stop are you?”

“Nope.” He takes a sip from his mug as he looks back down to the information he’s gathered. You scan through the names and pull out the file that haunts you to this day. Dropping it in front of Seokjin before taking a seat in the armchair across from him. He reads the name off the tab. “James Paxton the third, he sounds like a pompous prick.”

“Oh I can confirm he was, and definitely one of the most hard-headed recruits I’ve ever tested, but we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” You mutter as Seokjin opens his file to find the word deceased stamped in bold red letters. He stares up at you with his mouth agape, you can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how this fits into your narrative. 

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It wasn’t really broadcasted through the regular channels, if you weren’t at the main headquarters you didn’t know about it. It happened just over a year ago.”

“I would have been in Lhasa...” Seokjin mutters.

You nod, not surprised that information flew under his radar. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but the last Arthur, he saw me as a bar for people to cross. He thought if recruits could take orders from a ‘bossy woman’ they could take orders from anyone. James Paxton didn’t pass that test, and he paid for it with his life.”

Thankfully for once, Seokjin doesn’t have a comment, instead he sits there, waiting for you to continue.

“Paxton thought me pushy, and overbearing, told me so to my face, several times in fact. I should have had him kicked out, but I was determined to prove him wrong. There was a mission to recover the stolen data a couple months after the breach. There was a lead, before we learned of Hwang.  We thought we had the location of where the data had been transferred to. I was supposed to go on the mission, but at the last minute Arthur told me to direct the team from off site.” 

Your hands start to shake as the story continues. A mixture of both anger and fear coursing through you. You shift to hide them beneath you, gripping your legs to keep your fingers steady, but they fail to escape Seokjin’s notice.

His eyes are downcast in shame. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to Merlin. I’m-”

“You wanted to hear this Seokjin. I told you to leave it alone, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” You take a deep breath trying to rein in your anger, “Either you let me finish or never question me about my situation again.” He shuts his mouth instantly letting you continue. “It didn’t take me long to realize the lead was a trap once they got on site. I ordered a retreat, everyone else followed except for Paxton”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Seokjin interjects sitting on the edge of his seat. 

“That doesn't mean I can’t be upset by it! Instead of trying to curb the discrimination the previous Arthur used it, and I didn’t even understand what he was doing until I lost someone. I found out that he enforced the idea among the recruits, that I was an overly authoritative woman, one who fails to take proper risks. Forget the fact that I am highly qualified, that I have more experience and knowledge of many of the situations than the other leaders, my lack of dick disqualified me from being taken seriously.” Seokjin falls silent again. He must realize that he too has failed to take you seriously in the past, then again, he’s that way with everyone else too. 

“When Namjoon became the new Arthur shortly after, I was able to address my grievances. He was ashamed of his predecessor and wanted to do right by me, so I requested this place as a base. I wanted somewhere I could work on my own for the most part and not have to worry about people thinking me conceited or bossy. I needed a break from giving out orders.”

You finally finish to find Seokjin with a narrowed brow and clenched jaw. His tone matching the anger in his stance, “You’ve been here a year-”

“I know.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been punishing yourself for a year?” He’s question is poised with what looks to be genuine frustration, “Over two assholes who couldn’t understand how valuable you are?”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s a safety net.” You explain.

“It’s a cell!” He gestures around him. “You’re basically living in solitary.” You shift awkwardly not knowing what to say, and definitely not expecting this reaction. “Come on, we’re going out.” He orders, getting up from his seat and pulling you out of yours. “There’s a bar I know close by. I’m taking you out for a drink.”

“You think it wise for you to leave?” You question him, not knowing how else to diffuse the situation, not when your focus is drawn to his grip which wraps your shoulders. 

“It’s only a couple blocks away. If we see anything suspicious I promise we’ll head straight back. It’s your call, but I think you could use a night out.” He pushes you in the direction of your bedroom. “Go change into something that doesn’t have oil stains all over it.” 

You should probably put your foot down, there’s no saying what could happen. But seeing Seokjin act like this... maybe Hoseok was right, he actually cares. The problem is now that you can see this side of him you don’t want to lose hold of it just yet. “Fine, but if anything at all is amiss-”

“We’ll hightail it out of there, and barricade ourselves in here for the long haul.” He rattles off the promises. “Now go get ready.” 

...

Seokjin maintains the persona of a caring companion as he drags you to his favourite bar in the city. “It’s quiet and the owner, Choi, is an old friend of Percival’s, he knows not to ask too many questions. There’s almost always at least one or two of us from the order or field agents hanging out there.”

He holds the door open for you to enter and you're greeted to the sight of a worn down ale house. A robust and stained wooden bar takes the focal point of the room, and there’s not a single other patron in sight. You can’t help but regret being forced to change out of your usual attire. You didn’t want to look out of place, but with no one here to take notice, your black dress it’s an unnecessary and uncomfortable gambit. Seokjin on the other hand looks very pleased to be back in his usual attire, a  three piece suit that’s been confined to the closet while he’s with you in the workshop.   

“Like I said, it’s quiet.” He chuckles while he helps you take off your coat.

From out back steps the barman to greet you. He’s an unexpected yet welcome gem of a sight among the rubble, a handsome face with a wide smile which he presents to you. You might have to stop by here again just to take in this view, maybe study some of the tattoos he has scattered across his arms. 

“Choi not in tonight?” Seokjin asks after seeing your reaction to the man behind the counter. He must not be the usual staff, it’s a shame really, but it’s funny to see Seokjin look so displeased. Realizing that for once he might not be the most attractive person in the room.

“Oh you know him?” Your host inquires with surprise, “No he wasn’t feeling too good, probably will end up spending the night by a toilet from the looks of him. I offered to take over tonight so he could get some rest.”

“That was nice of you.” You extend the man a warm smile.

“I like to think so.” He responds while beaming back at you. Seokjin hastily gives both your orders, allowing the bartender to leave you with a lingering stare as he walks back to grab your drinks. Maybe your efforts with the dress weren’t such a waste.

Seokjin glares at the man, mumbling a few choice words from which you manage to pull the word, ‘Flirt’. 

“He was just being nice.”

“My god you can’t read people when it comes to the way they look at you. You’ve clearly caught his attention...” Seokjin drops unexpectedly.

“I can read people just fine.” You bite back in confidence. 

“Really?” He challenges you, leaning forward with a whisper, “Then I suggest you look a bit closer.”

   The bartender hammers Seokjin’s drink down in front of him while he slides yours along gently, giving you a chance to inspect a stunning work of art on his hand, a flock of birds flying in formation following the trail between his thumb and index. He catches your stare and while you might be embarrassed at your lingering eyes he teases the skin of his lip between his teeth. “I’ll let you get back to your date.” He gives you one last flash of a grin as he backs away into what must be a stock room.

“It’s not a... date.” You start to explain but it’s reduced to a sigh once the man leaves your sight.

Seokjin presses a napkin to your mouth prompting you to look back at him in utter confusion. “Sorry, thought I spotted some drool,” He dabs the corner of your lips. “Just there.”

You steal the napkin from his hand and toss it on the bar. “Thank you for your concern.” You take a long draft of your drink refusing to look at your fellow agent. 

“Someone must be thirsty.” He snickers, not bothering to keep his laughter hidden.

“What can I say, the refreshments at the base have been far from gratifying.” Your quip might be implied but it hits its mark with flawless execution.

“Hey!” The volume of Seokjin’s voice rises to a new level to aid in his defence. “I’ll have you know I’ve been called an acquired taste.” 

“You’ll have to forgive my pallet for not meeting your standards then. I’m in need of something that goes down a bit easier.”

You take your victory in the form of Seokjin’s reddening ears and sputter from his lips. “After that confession, I’m almost sorry to be standing between you and that tall drink. Almost.” He reiterates with a wink.

“It’s probably for the best.” You sigh, finally dropping the banter. “He might be interested now, but I bet that would change pretty quickly if he got to know me.” 

“I doubt that.” He whispers right before he takes a sip. You can’t be entirely sure that he intended you to hear his comment.

“Oh really? You’ve spent the past week in very close proximity with me. How would you describe me?”

“There’s definitely a mix of frustration, with a side agitation, and a need for provocation. ” You let out a heavy groan while he continues. “Now some might find those to be unlikable traits, but I’ve come to find them very endearing.”  

You snort into your drink. “That’s the best joke you’ve told yet.”

Seokjin nods carrying the weight of a small smile on his lips. “What about me? I’d be curious to hear how you read my personality.”

“Are you sure about that?’

He nods, “Hit me with your best shot... if you can.”

He might think you unable to read people, but you can’t wait to prove him wrong. Your words spill faster than you intend, creating an improvisational soliloquy into his psyche.“You deflect with humor constantly, which in turn prevents anyone from getting close because they can tell what you truly feel about them. Can’t take an order without asking a question. You’re determined to a fault, but you also use that drive when you’re concerned that something’s wrong. Not letting anything rest until you’ve fixed what can be fixed.”

He holds your gaze, sitting there in silent disbelief before he comes to and lashes out, “Completely incorrect, it’s a wonder you became an agent.” He shakes his head with a scoff before finishing his drink in one sip.

“Nice deflection,” you counter. “I rest my case.”

He narrows his eyes and gives no response other than to call for another round. 

...

After finishing the second you’re about to suggest your return to the base, but the frown on Seokjin’s face as he looks into the bottom of his glass stops you. It should be an unwritten rule that men who look as good as him aren’t allowed to pout. How are you supposed to remain in charge when he can disarm you in seconds with a simple jut of his lip? It’s the one tool in his arsenal he has yet to use, you can only hope he doesn’t realize how effective it is on you.

You’re quick to order the next batch, and half way through the third he poses a question that he must have been holding on to. “You said in your analysis that people have trouble reading me because of my humour, how do I act when I really like someone?”

“How would I know?” You raise your brow along with your drink. 

“Then how do you think I should act? You know, so it’s not misconstrued as humour.”

“Level with the person, have a serious conversation for a fraction of a second.” It feels odd to be giving him your input on such a matter. Why would he ask this of you? And why do you mentally recoil when you start to think of him using that advice on someone else?

“If that's the case, I should probably tell you...” He leans in towards you, his face just inches away. Your heart stops as his hand reaches out to cover yours. He pauses there for a moment watching your expression, “I need to,” The gaps in his speech are big enough for your mind to flee from reality, creating a scenario where he admits... “I need to go use the facilities.” A half-hearted chuckle pours of him along with the words which break you from your daydream. 

“Then go,” You snap, your tone surprising even to you. It’s not like you wanted to have a serious moment with him, right? But the pain in your chest says otherwise.

“Are you... I was just kidding around,” he stammers.

What did you expect him to say, that he thinks of you as more than just an agent, even more than a friend? Did you want him to close the gap and kiss you? Oh god, you did. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin, and right then and there you wanted him to confess the same to you.

“Yeah I got it,” you mutter back, trying to cover your internal shock. “That’s all you ever do.”

 Seokjin gets up from his seat and heads to the washroom. Leaving you at the bar to contemplate his words. 

You feel like you’ve fallen into every trap you told yourself not to. But that can’t be right, it’s not like you fell for his fake smiles or flirtation. You must be drunk, that’s the only explanation. How else could you ever think that he might actually hold even a shred of feelings for you. He feels sorry for you, that’s all, that’s why you're here with him now. And once he’s treated your wounds, once he no longer feels guilty, he can go back to flirting with you and everyone else to get whatever he wants. 

The bell over the door chimes as a large group of people enter. You immediately look away, embarrassed by your current distress, turning your head to focus instead on the photos of the owner and his patrons pinned to the walls. Dabbing the corner of your eyes with the tip of your finger. 

Despite the number of newcomers the bar still remains oddly quiet. From a group of six you would expect the volume of conversation to be a bit more boisterous. With your instincts and suspicions now aroused, you keep an eye on them in the mirror over the bar.  Darting your eyes back to their reflection every few seconds, never wanting to linger too long. You’re about to throw away your apprehension, blaming it on your current level of anxiety on Seokjin, when something inexplicable happens. 

As the man seated in the middle leans towards one of his companions for a chat, his hand rises to rub his long nose, and in what you can only describe as a rendering problem, it passes through. You try to remain calm grabbing your glasses from your purse, turning yourself slightly you manage to edge his face in the very corner of your frames. With the tap of your finger to the rim of the specs you launch an application you created but never had the need to use personally.

When you had first designed your car, Yoongi had complained that even with the locater he had difficulty finding the vehicle when he left it cloaked. It was a reasonable request that prompted you to create a function that scans for visual distortions and creates a digital replication of what lies beneath the camouflage. And now as you activate that function you find what Seokjin and the others hadn’t been able to track down for months, the face of Hwang. 

He must be wearing what you can only guess is a variation on your technology, but instead of making his face invisible it projects different facial features over some of his own. It takes all of your restraint not to let out the swear taking up residence on the tip of your tongue. Why are they here of all places? Do they know that Seokjin is here? They look as if they’re waiting for someone. A potential mark, a seller, or maybe a buyer? 

Regardless of motive if your colleague steps out of the bathroom he’ll walk right into their view. You pull your glasses off leaving them on the bar, and call out to the keep. “Would you mind watching my stuff for me?” You gesture to your coat and specs putting on a fake smile. “Don’t want to lose my seat.”

“Don’t worry.” He confirms with a soft tone along with a grin. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Gliding off the stool, avoiding the stares of the target and his men, you slip into the hall and behind the men’s room door. Thankfully Seokjin’s already at the sink by this point. You find him hunched over hands pressing down on the counter as he lets out a long sigh.   

As he combs back his hair with damp fingers he looks up. Meeting your eyes in the mirror with embarrassment and disbelief, he lets out a small self pitting laugh. “Listen if you’re here to tell me off I get it, I didn’t mean-”

“Put your glasses on. You have them right?” You join him at the sink while his pity turns to confusion.

“What-”

“Just do it.”

He fumbles to retrieve them from his jacket pocket before sliding them on. You move in as close as you can, bracing yourself on his arms so you can speak into the receiver embedded. Seokjin looks taken aback but remains still as you encroach on his space. “Call Merlin, auto-connect override authorization 2769.” That creates a connection between the two glasses without you having to be there to answer it, allowing Seokjin to see the issue at hand.

“Fuck.” He whispers right next to your ear as you remain close, getting ready to call in for backup.

“My thoughts exactly.” You mutter, unable to decide if this is a stroke of good luck or bad.  “Add secondary line, call Lancelot.”

Seokjin leans his head down so the speaker falls next to your own ear. It’s not the best connection with the audio from the bar, but at least you can hear Hoseok. “Merlin, Galahad. What- am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, Hwang’s at our location, Choi’s bar. We’re not sure of his purpose here, but he’s brought a few friends.”

“I can see that, but why are you both there?”

“Not the time. We’re in the restroom but not in an adequate state to take on so many and secure the target. How long will it take you to get here?” You try to gloss over your lack of sobriety, but Hoseok doesn’t fall for the guise of your paraphrasing.

“Not in an adequate state huh? That’s an expression for drunk I haven’t heard before. Sending a message to Percival, I can have him and the team on site in 10 minutes. Can you maintain your current position?”

“Yeah small problem with that...” Seokjin comments.

“I heard it too, maintain cover at all cost. We can’t scare them away.” Hoseok’s voice flutters, sounding almost nervous.

“Heard what?” You can barely make out Hoseok’s words, let alone the taproom.

“Someone’s coming to check the bathrooms. They’re looking for any people of interest.”

“We could try slipping out the back door,” You offer.

Only for Hoseok to throw a wrench in your suggestion. “If it’s a business dealing they might have people posted there.”

“We need a distraction then?” You ask and Seokjin returns with a nod. Just hiding in a stall won’t do either, they’ll likely wait for the occupants to come out. You have to make them uncomfortable enough to leave without looking too close. You’ll probably regret what you're about to do later, but right now your options are limited. 

You reach out and grip Seokjin’s shirt, drawing him into you so he has you pressed against the counter. He catches on quickly, putting his hands on your waist he lifts you up and onto the marble surface. “Make it look good Seokjin. Shouldn’t be hard for you to put on a show, you’ve had so much practice with me already.” His act of concern, and portrayal of affection have shown you he should do just fine when it comes to a performance of lust. 

“It wasn’t my intent to toy with you.” He growls back before snatching your mouth with his, forceful enough to ensure swollen lips and smudged lipstick. One of his hands rises to your hair pulling the elastic out of place. Allowing his fingers to weave between the strands, he delivers a slight tug to your roots while you drag your teeth across his bottom lip.

You push his suit jacket off his wide shoulders, throwing it down on the counter next to you, before forcefully opening the top of his shirt, accidentally ripping the button off his collar in the process. He pauses his assault on your mouth for a moment, investigating the damage you imposed. 

“It wasn’t my intent to destroy your shirt, but here we are,” You explain unfastening the next two buttons with a bit more care. Your fingers dip under the crisp white cotton of his shirt, raking visible lines down his chest.  “Take responsibility for your actions for once. Tell people your true intentions or you will hurt them.” 

“You want me to know my intentions? Fine.” He unzips your dress a few inches to bare your collar and shoulders before his lips target your neck. You close your eyes letting your head roll back. “I want this.” Seokjin grabs your upper thigh compelling a gasp to escape you. “I want you.” He confesses the same time the door creaks open. 

There’s not much movement from Hwang’s lackey. Your new audience doesn’t come in far, instead he freezes in place when he spots the both of you. Seokjin addresses him in a gruff manner without turning his face away from you . “It’s not a free show buddy, take your piss and leave.” The man clears his throat, turns round and closes the door in his wake, leaving you once alone with Seokjin. Though revelling in his soft bites to your neck, gaining back your composer is a more pressing matter. “I think he’s gone.”

“We can’t be too sure,” Seokjin counters your observation as he continues to nip at the column of your throat. “He might come back.” 

“Shit, I just lost visual of the bar.” Hoseok interrupts much to your embarrassment. You somehow forgot he was on the com-line during your effort to teach your fellow agent a lesson. “We’re running blind, maintain cover for now.”

“See?” The breath of Seokjin’s laughter is felt on your skin as he wins the debate.

“You really want to keep going with this?” You’re surprised, just a few minutes ago the man was making you the butt of his joke. Why the change? 

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m just sorry we couldn’t be somewhere more intimate, or private.”

“You and me both,” Hoseok deadpans.

“Lancelot, I suggest you find something else to watch while we maintain cover as directed,” Seokjin instructs. You find his mouth back on yours before he gets a response on the com. 

He’s right though the circumstances are less than ideal for a romp. The damp counter beneath you, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the out of order stall in the corner are all enough to make you cringe. No part of this is glamorous except for the man standing in front of you, which makes him all the more appealing. “We could just lock the door you know.” You offer a logical substitute plan. “I’m sure after what they’ve seen they would understand and we could stop this charade.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m sorry but I am too dedicated to this cover. I want to see it through.”

“Percival’s team will be dropping in two minutes.” Hoseok cuts in. 

“Yes sir,” Seokjin mumbles against your lips while he responds to Hoseok, not dwelling on the interruption. “We should probably make the act more realistic, you know gasps, moans, they might be listening.”

You highly doubt that, but if he wants to play, fine. You’ll show him what he’s missing when he casts you aside. “You first.” You respond, tugging him between your legs, causing the hem of your dress to ride back. His cock erect beneath his pants and pressing against your clothed core. He lets out a groan of relief. “So unlike you to be already standing at attention.” You tease him.

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me,” he gasps in response.

Seokjin takes your legs in his hands driving your dress even further up your thighs as he proceeds to grind against you. He tilts his head with a smile while you react. “Too far?” He whispers. 

You shake your head. If only he knew what he would find if he pulled your underwear aside. Your cunt, committing the ultimate treason against your better sensibility, is ready and willing. If he’s not careful he might get a darkened spot on his suit pants.

As one hand slides further up the inside of your thigh, the other takes your chin directing you to meet his eyes. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear making their presence known and as he waits for permission to go further. You nod back at him. His fingers slip behind the strip of fabric, separating your sopping slit from the damp material. “Looks like you’re well prepared too Merlin.”

“I guess so,” You tease, “Do remind me to give a big tip to the bartender for that.”

“I have a hard time believing that none of this belongs to me.” Seokjin murmurs back to you, but just as his knuckles graze your slick folds and clit, Yoongi announces his team’s arrival. “Another time I guess,” Seokjin whispers with a final kiss to your cheek. He helps you off the counter and pulls down your dress to a more respectable length while he takes one last stroke of your thigh.

“I take it’s safe to restore visual now?” Hoseok asks with a hint of laughter. You’re never going to hear the end of this. “Percival’s about to enter, I do suggest locking the door this time though. In case anyone does make a run for it, we’ll catch them outback. I don’t want you two engaging in this capture if you don’t have too.”  You roll your eyes over Hoseok’s word choice. “Galahad, give Merlin the glasses. I want her input on the scene.”

Seokjin hands off his glasses to you and proceeds to lock you both in.

“Where are they stationed?” You inquire trying to get a full view of the task now at hand.

“The majority including Percival are entering through in the front, and a couple men out back, there was no one there so they must not be expecting a scene. Were there any civilians on site?”

“Just the barman.”

“Okay hang tight.” Hoseok orders.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping?” You ask, wanting to distract yourself from the tension between you and Seokjin.

“Nah, Percival’s got this. Besides I saw your reflection and you’re looking a little flushed Merlin, you doing okay?”

“Shut up Lancelot,” you grumble back in a muffled tone. 

“Was it the alcohol or was it Galahad?”  Luckily Seokjin was too far away to hear Hoseok's last question letting you ignore the comment as the team makes their entrance. Yoongi’s glasses give you the full view of what he sees. Hwang, much to your surprise, actually looks interested in the presence of the new arrivals. They’re obviously waiting for someone to show, but it’s clear that they have no idea who to look for.

“Don’t jump on the arrest so fast.” You direct, looking to gain any positive out of this awkward mission. The reward very much outweighing the risk. “You might be able to get some information first. Come off as a buyer, they might be trying to move the information or the tech.”

“You heard her Percival, get as much as you can before we make the catch.” Hoseok confirms your plan back to the rest of the team.

You watch barely drawing breath as he takes a seat across from the target. Hwang opens up the conversation first, “I didn’t think you would bring so many men just for a demonstration.”

“I prefer not to take any chances.” Yoongi’s response is blase, as he beckons the barman over to give his order.  

Hwang looks uncomfortable, for someone with a product to sell he’s lacking the usual confidence that you would expect to see. “Well this should provide for your needs then. You ask me to come to the thick of their territory and as you can see I’m still here.”

“You are, but how do we know they aren’t waiting to make a strike? Have you ever seen one?” Yoongi pushes, he must be taking great enjoyment out of finally being able to pull one over on the man who’s kept them searching for so long.

“I have, once, but I’ve been able to keep myself hiding for months with this.” He taps something a bud placed in his ear. It must be what’s projecting the image overlay on his face disguising his true features. “Camera’s can’t pick up my face underneath, it’s better than any mask you can buy, as requested.”

“Where did you get the tech?” 

“You-” The man pauses, his brow furrows before his expression shifts to a blank slate. He makes a subtle reach for his jacket pocket, but Yoongi is quicker on the draw. Lunging across the table he grabs the back of Hwang’s neck and smashes his head down on the table.

It’s hard to see the rest of the fighting with only Yoongi’s perspective. You catch flashes of the scene as the target’s men retaliate. There’s a flurry of pint glasses to distract as firearms are drawn. Broken shards scatter the establishment as the bartender flees away from danger towards the back exit with a phone to his ear. 

The altercation ends rather quickly, with those who are still conscious held at gunpoint by Yoongi’s men. It’s a relief to see the target secured, and the tech recovered, but you are left with disgust after having your own work be used against your team. 

Hoseok gives you the all clear to leave, but you're not sure you're ready to face the others just yet. “Could you give me a minute?” You request from Seokjin as he goes to open the door. He gives you a nod along with your hair tie, while you hand back his glasses. 

“Yeah, I’ll just go... fetch our coats.”

“Could you find my glasses too while you’re out there Galahad?” 

He freezes for a fraction of a second before giving you a hesitant response, “Yeah... yeah sure thing.”

What, no funny retort? No rebuttal? You thought calling him by his title would cause him to taunt you a little, but nothing comes of it. “If you can’t find them, the barkeep might have them.” That’s probably why the signal went dark, he must have moved them for safe keeping.

“Great. Just who I wanted to see.” He responds with a forced smile and gritted teeth. 

“If it’s that much of a problem I’ll go get them back myself.”

Seokjin leaves you with a grunt, “No, no, I’ll go see the cowardly Casanova.”

 The second he opens the restroom door you can hear Yoongi shout a request. “Galahad can I leave the team out back in your care? I need to move out and take this thief to Arthur for questioning.” 

Hwang had apparently regained consciousness, and starts arguing in his defence. “I didn’t steal that data! I just set them up with someone to make their tech. They were supposed to come here, they asked for a demonstration here and then stood us up!”   

Yoongi chooses to ignore him while he continues to give orders to Seokjin. “Make sure they drug the civilian, and then toss him behind the bar. Shouldn’t need to do much more than that, it already looks like standard bar brawl damage.” 

“That I can do,” Seokjin responds with satisfaction as he steps out letting the door close between the two of you. It’s amazing how much one flirtatious bartender appears to have got under his skin. 

You take a few minutes to straighten yourself in the mirror. Tying up your hair and closing the zipper on your dress when you spot several smudges of lipstick across your skin. You reach blindly for the paper towel, only to knock your purse to the floor in the process. A couple items roll away. Your pen, to your frustration, makes it all the way into the out of order stall. As tempted you are to leave it, you know it wouldn’t be wise to have something so lethal on the floor of a public bathroom.

With a groaning you crouch down, peering through the couple of inches between the stall door and the floor. Finding the missing item next to a pair of well worn leather shoes. You throw yourself back in shock grabbing your pistol from your overturned clutch, taking aim at the door bearing the sign. With a swift kick you force the stall open, and there passed out on the toilet is the man from the pictures behind the bar, the owner that Seokjin was asking after.    

“Shit.” You lower your gun as you run out of the bathroom calling out for back up. The bar is deserted though, Yoongi’s team has already left, forcing you to head down the long hall to the back door alone. You slow your steps as you reach the end of the corridor, starting to pick up bits of conversation between Seokjin and the imposter. You keep yourself plastered to the wall trying to assess the situation with a narrow view through the window next to the door.

The once friendly bartender points a gun at Seokjin. The other agents, those that were supposed to be keeping an eye on the ‘civilian’ are out of commission, all laying on the ground around him. 

“Call her out here, now.” The barman still holds onto his smile as he makes his demand, but now it only gives you chills as you try to puzzle out the motive behind it.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Seokjin keeps his hands at eye level, he’s trying to play the role of innocent bystander but that’ll only get him shot if he’s not careful. 

“The woman with you, that was Merlin, was it not? She designed this tech didn’t she?” He lifts your glasses for Seokjin to see. “And created the original cloaking program. I never should have outsourced it, she saw right through their guise. Since their product was faulty, I’ve been given a new directive.”

“Merlin? You mean like the magician in the old tales? Trust me that woman is nothing of the sort.” Seokjin is actually now chuckling despite having a gun held to him.

“Very well, if you won’t comply. We’ll just have to go retrieve her together.” He gestures Seokjin to the door with his gun. “After you.”

You shift yourself into position behind the door, when Seokjin opens it you remain concealed on the other side. Your fellow agent steps through, moving backwards to keep his eyes on the assailant, allowing him to spot you once he’s inside. You raise a finger to your lips holding your gun to your chest. You can’t let him give off any indication that he’s seen you. 

When Seokjin’s a few feet down the hall the aggressor proceeds to follow, and once his arm crosses the threshold you ram your full weight against the door. There’s a howl of pain as you trap his forearm in the door frame. The gun drops from his hand and hits the floor. Seokjin moves first taking the weapon and then the arm of the man who pointed it at him. You release the door and Seokjin drags the enemy in, throwing him against the wall. There’s a sickening crack as his head meets the concrete behind him.  

Though his body is now lip and eyes in a daze he still chuffs when he spots you, “So nice of you to join us Merlin, we were just talking about you.”

Seokjin pulls back a fist  letting land on the man's face with the full force of a brutal punch, finally sending the culprit into a comatose state.

“You okay?” You ask, noting his unusually rigid composure.

Seokjin nods, straightening his jacket as he lets the imposter fall to the floor. “Looks like I was right, you did catch his attention.” He boasts, with levity returning to his voice. “How did you know to come find me?”

“Found Choi, right where he said he’d be too...” You watch as Seokjin crouches down to retrieve your glasses from the man. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he works alone.” Seokjin comments while staring at the tattoo that had caught your eye earlier, a flock in the shape of a V. 

...

Yoong makes a return trip, picking up the new captive as well as aiding the unconscious agents. The detainees will be moved to headquarters where they’ll be held for questioning before they’re turned over to the authorities along with a list of transgressions and admissible evidence.

After returning from the bar your base is busier than ever, with everyone following standard procedure and filing reports. There’s hardly room to move, let alone have a private moment with Seokjin to discuss what transpired. A full night and day go by with you only being able to lock eyes with him across the room. As much as you want to talk to him, your duty comes first, ensuring that everyone receives their new orders after the unusual turn of events.

You retreat to your room after a long day of report processing. There are still a few statements left to grab but those can be done tomorrow. The first recordings of the interrogation have come in and you're desperate to hear what Hwang has to say about the tech you found him with. To your delight it’s that exact question which Namjoon poses first.

Hwang rattles off the information, needing little prompting, they must have already cut a deal. “I was contacted  by an anonymous client over a year ago, they asked if I might know of someone who could utilize a cloaking program they had picked up, and apply it to something else. They wanted a mask, a way to hide in plain sight. I offered up a tech company who does some backwater dealings in armaments and weapons, and became the middleman between the two parties until the project was finished.”

“And you have no idea who hired you?” Namjoon asks. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Their wallet was big enough their identity wasn’t a concern, my main contact only referred to himself as V. He called me to the bar last night to provide a final demonstration to prove it worked before his agency made the purchase.”

Seokjin was right, Hwang was just a fence. Which would confirm the other man part of the group who orchestrated the data breach. 

You switch between the video files, hoping to find the other more enlightening. In the very centre of the shot sits the man dubbed as V. He answers none of the questions directed to him. Minutes pass while he remains silent looking directly into the camera with a  jeering grin and narrowed eyes. It’s off putting to say the least, no offer or deal can sway him to spill his knowledge. He looks content almost as if this is exactly where he wants to be. While the interrogators become increasingly frustrated, his smile only grows wider. 

You close out of the recording unable to take the silent stares any more. There’s nothing in his file they’ve attached other than physical attributes.  As you search the empty pages for a scrap of knowledge, a call request comes in from Arthur. You throw on your glasses answering in haste hoping he’ll have something new to share.

“Sorry to bother you so late. It’s been quite a day.” His voice is full of cracks and weariness.

“It’s no problem. I can only imagine after seeing the footage. Any new information on who this man works for? 

“No, nothing.”

“Oh,” Your voice echoes in confusion, “Was there something else you needed? Did you get my report?”

“Yes I did, thorough as usual. But it’s not your report I wanted to discuss.” Namjoon pauses again. ”I received an unusual request from Galahad at the end of his. I wanted to talk it over with you before I gave my answer.”

“Go ahead.” You cringe fearing what he might have said in his statement. 

“I freed him from lock down, and offered a new assignment, but he requested permission to stay and assist you with the vehicle repairs until they were completed. I would permit his extension, but I don’t believe that the answer to this decision rests fully with me, so I’m leaving it to you.”

“Don’t you need him back in the field? We don’t know who this man V is, or who he’s working for.” 

“And it’s doubtful that we’ll learn anything more anytime soon unless he starts answering our questions. There’s little direction in where we can take the investigation right now. I don’t have anything that requires urgent attention, that’s why the choice is yours to make. If you need help or want assistance he’s offering it to you.” 

“Thank you sir,” You’re grateful that he has left you with the final decision on the matter. “Would you mind if I spoke to him first before I decide?”  

“Not at all.”

...

You creep out into the common area, Hoseok is splayed out on the couch while Yoongi’s curled up on the armchair, but Seokjin is nowhere to be found. Did he leave the base taking advantage of his newly acquired freedom?

You doubt you’ll be able to sleep, not with the questions you have running through your head. Looking to keep your mind busy you descend the stairs and enter the passcode to your workshop, only to find the lights already on and Seokjin’s long legs sticking out from under the car. There’s a swear and a clang of a metal tool hitting the cement floor. You hold back a laugh as you approach, choosing instead to surprise him by pulling on the roller bed to tug him out from beneath the car.  

The initial shock on his face quickly changes to a smug grin. “I guess I’ve been caught.”

“Trying to sabotage my work again?”

“No, if you can believe it I’m actually trying to be an aid rather than a hindrance.”

“I’ll alert the media.” You fire back before diving into the more serious topic at hand. “I just got off the line with Arthur. He said you’ve been cleared to return to duty...”

Seokjin’s face falls slightly as he sits up on the rolling platform, “Oh-”

“But you also requested an extension here.”

“I did.” He looks up at you with sincerity, one that’s rarely seen on his face. No deflection to humour. This is just him. 

“I need to know why.” You keep your expression even, not wanting your feelings to influence him in any way.

“I want to help fix the car.”

“I need more of an explanation than that Seokjin. A few days ago you couldn’t wait to get out of here. ” This is it, there’s no room to spare feelings. He’ll tell you he feels guilty, or that he feels sorry for you, leaving you to send him on his way and that will be the end of this trial. 

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before. I like working with you, being here with you. You're not afraid to let me know when I’ve crossed the line.”

“So what, you just want to use me to keep you in check? I’m not here to fix you Seokjin.” You start to back away ready to send word to Namjoon that he’s free to assign him elsewhere when Seokjin grabs your hand, he rises from his spot on the floor in a rush to stand between you and the door. 

“That’s not what I meant. You make me want to be better.”

You pull yourself from his grip backing into the side of the car, “And after you’ve used me to better yourself, what then? You’ll just move on to your next project?” 

“No, fuck... I don’t know how else I can say it other than I like you Merlin. You aren’t the plan, you’re the objective.” He pauses for a moment, watching as his words sink in to you. “If you’re not interested in what I want to offer... I get it, but stop being so blind when it comes to yourself!” 

You fall still as you hear his confession, but you’re not ready to believe or condemn his words just yet. “If that’s the case why did you mock me at the bar?” Your voice wavers as you question him. “Why didn’t you say something?” 

“I was going to, but I didn’t think you would appreciate a drunken confession. You wanted a serious conversation, here it is. I want to stay here with you. Even if you’re not interested in a relationship, I respect that, but I still think we could both benefit from working together.”

He’s right, you might have believed him right then, but later, once the effects of the alcohol had worn off you would’ve thought it another game of his. You shift against the car embarrassed by your misreading of his motives, but pleased to see that they fall in line with your own.

“I wouldn’t say that I wasn’t interested...” You mumble your own confession carefully as he shifts in closer to his mouth catching a grin when he hears your words. “But staying would put you in a problematic position when you’re required to follow my orders. If we’re to continue down this path there wouldn’t be an equal power dynamic.”

“Good.” he mutters along with a chuckle. “Is that your only objection?”

“Yes, but-”

“Arthur released me from under your command. Any order you give will be discretionary.” 

“Discretionary orders?” You scoff. “You can barely follow mandatory orders.”

“Yes but it solves your problem, doesn't it? This way you can be sure that I will only follow an order if I want to.” He leans in placing his hands on either side of you on the hood of the car. “So Merlin, do you want me to stay?”

“Yes...”

“Do you want to continue what we started yesterday?” 

You nod biting your lip at the thought of it.

“Then I await your orders.” He stands still not moving an inch while you remain caged between his arms and caught in his eyes.

“Let’s be clear on something first,” You state, trying not to focus on how close his lips are or how soft they’ll feel when they touch your skin.“I don’t want you to think you are in any way saving me.”

“I am well aware of that now. I finally realise I need you to save me.”

“From what?” You can’t help but laugh at his conclusion.

“My impulsive actions.” He lifts you onto the car just like he lifted you onto the bathroom counter. “My runaway mouth.” He closes the distance for a swift kiss. “And my very unprofessional desires.” His fingers flirt with the bottom of your shirt taking up residence underneath the garment against the skin of your waist. 

“Yet you combat every effort when someone tries to restrain those tendencies,” You scold with a smile.

“You told me yourself I don’t go down easily... If you want to put me in my place you’re going to be more commanding.”

“And you would like that?” You ask in disbelief.  

“Why don’t you find out...” 

“Seokjin I-I don’t know if I-” You start to panic, stammering at the thought of going too far and becoming what others have thought of you before, “I don’t want you to hate...”

“If I need to stop I’ll tell you to brake. But right now I really want you to take the wheel, and put your foot down. No detours, just floor it.” He tightens his hold on you leaning in next to your ear with a growl. “Don’t get shy on me now. Give me your orders.” 

The cheek in his tone at last sets off the need for retaliation in you, evoking a desire to finally see him begging you for more. He’s never backed away from you, leaving you with no reason to believe he’ll do so now. If this is what he wants you’ll be happy to try and make him submit. “You can start with losing this.” You tug on his grease stained shirt. “And these too.” Dragging your finger over the waist of his jeans. 

He strips looking eager to play along. Leaving him in a pair of black boxers clinging to his swelling girth. “Like what you see?”

“You’ll do.” You snicker back at him. You take the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, as he moves to hold your lower back. He finds his way between your thighs once again but this time there’s nothing to stop you both from going further. 

“Do you want to take those off?” You brush your hands on the elastic of his underwear.

“Yes.” His answer is short and sweet, with nothing to misinterpret. You could get used to this side of him.

“Then you’ll have to do something for me first.” You shift your pants down kicking them to the floor. Taking one last kiss of Seokjin’s lips before pressing his shoulders down to make his mouth level with your hips. The grin he gives is something to revel in, finally seeing it as a sign of desire rather than a farce.

He pulls your underwear to the side. The first lick is short and sweet causing you to flinch from the flick of his tongue. The second he takes care in following the line of your slit but he doesn’t pull away at the end, instead he latches on to your clit taking deep drags which pull you under in an instant. 

Your hand reaches out to grip his hair needing something to hold on to and hold him back with if necessary, but once your fingers tug at Seokjin’s locks he moans into your flesh. His hands pull you closer to the edge of the car allowing him to bury himself even deeper.    

He slowly gains a rhythm with his tongue and lips, but every time you come close, when your breathing becomes shallow he starts to pull back. He’s teasing you, clearly goading you to become more strict with your desires. 

“No more games Seokjin. If you can’t get me there in the next minute, I promise you’ll regret it.”

He pulls away for a moment to draw breath while giving you a taunt. “I’d like to see that.” 

He’s about to return to his task when you push him back, no longer giving him the chance at redemption. You point to a straight back chair facing away from you , “Sit down, with your head forward.” 

He does as you ask with a smile still stuck to the corner of his mouth. You slide off the car and move behind him towards your work desk, stripping off your shirt, and undergarments as you stray from his line of sight. Grabbing something from the inventory closet before you return to him, still hiding from his gaze .

He tries to look back at you but you put a stop to that. “Did I say you could look around?”

“No ma’am.” He chuckles back.

“Since you like games so much I thought of one to play. Give me your hand, and tell me what I put in it without looking.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with-” You cut off his complaint quickly by placing the metal object in his hand reaching out behind him. “Handcuffs?” Seokjin questions with surprise. “I stand corrected, this seems like a fun game.” 

“Put them on,” you order. He complies instantly, letting you check the tightness once he’s done. “Safey’s there if you need it. Just tell me to brake.”

“Oh no, I’m quite comfortable thank you.” He grins proudly as if this is what he was hoping for all along.

As you move in front of him finally gracing him with your nude form he stares back at you dumbfounded. You reach out to the corner of his mouth, which sits agape, wiping at the edge of his lips with your thumb. “Sorry I thought I spotted some drool.” Seokjin smiles at your mimicry and jab, but he has no words to follow with.

You kneel down in front of him, your hands trailing up to reach for his boxers. “May I?”

“Please do.”

You tug them down releasing his erection from the confines of the fabric. You're careful not to touch him, not wishing to give any satisfaction or stimulation. Once they’re pulled down to his ankles you move to the uninstalled backseat of the car sitting right across from him. Seokjin furrows his brow in confusion. 

“Something wrong?” You prompt hoping to have him admit that he wants you to return to him.

“No, just admiring the view.” 

“Really?” You persist in teasing him a little more, “Because it looks like you need something.”

“Only to know the next step in this game of yours.”

“You get to watch while I play.” You lay back on the car bench resting your feet on the soft leather. Your hand moving down between your legs picking up where Seokjin left off, with a slow rub to your crest.

“That seems unfair.” He flexes his arms, testing the cuffs as he watches you. 

“That’s what happens when you don’t read the instructions, I get to make the rules.” He lets out a groan as you close your eyes ready to concentrate on your own pleasure. You know you’re wet enough already but for good measure and Seokjin’s torturous show you prep your fingers in your mouth before slipping the tip of your index finger inside yourself. 

There’s a small whine from Seokjin, you look over to him, your eyes take a moment to focus on his face, his teeth digging into his now swollen bottom lip. “Let me help you, please.”

“That’s not how punishments work Seokjin. You had your chance, and you disobeyed.”

Giving him a side profile allows your thigh to hide the sight of your fingers dipping in. The sounds though, those are his to enjoy. You continue to satisfy yourself for a while longer enjoying the little jots of pleasure you can give yourself and Seokjin’s moan every time you twitch. It’s hard not to pay attention and give in to returning to him. With his cock pulsing against his leg with a drop of precum growing at the tip. His lip must be sore with how hard he’s biting down. 

Unable to ignore his whimpers any longer you get up from the leather bench. You present your fingers to his mouth damp from your ministrations. You don’t even get the chance to ask before he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean. When you pull them from his lips, he beams back at you. “Was that attentive enough for you?” 

“Very...” You commend him, straddling his legs facing him as you lower yourself. Your hand grips his cock while the other rests on his shoulder balancing yourself as you guide him inside. 

He gasps out a swear along with your real name as you sink down fully onto his lap. You lean into him letting your chest push against his as you rise and fall on his shaft. Pressing and grinding yourself against his seated form has him throbbing inside of you. He’s quickly become a breathy mess beneath you, a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, with even more dripping down his pecs. 

Your pace increases in speed as you edge closer to your climax. The warmth begins to spread to your extremities as you continue to thrust down. When the wave finally washes over you can barely move. “Fuck-” You whisper along with a plea. “Don’t you dare come yet.” You collapse against him riding it out, clenching while Jin groans.

“Take the cuffs off.” His moaning request is impossible to deny. As fun as it was to see him at your mercy you long to have his hands back on you. 

You reach for the restraints behind his back, with a quick press of a hidden release he’s free.  Wasting no time he grabs you, helping your legs to wrap around his waist. Positioning you securely against him, he rises to move two steps required in order to ram you back down onto the car bench. 

He pulls one leg up and over his shoulder while he holds the other level with his hip. Despite your sensitivity, he’s relentless in his thrusts, pushing you directly from the wave you just finished and on to the next. 

He’s so close to his end, his muscles tense, his face stern with a clenched jaw, it takes a moment for you to realize he’s waiting for your permission. He’s holding back until you give him the okay. “You can come Seokjin.” Upon hearing this his thrusts suddenly hit harder forcing you to cry out. “Fuck, please come.”

He shudders with the last impact. Releasing your legs, he lowers himself onto you while his cock still pulses inside. His head rests on the seat beside yours, the hot air from his heavy pants flows down your neck as you lay there trying to catch your own breath.

“I think we might have ruined the new car seat.” You chuckle at him, your laughter restricted by the pressure of his body on your chest. “I should probably order another.”

“And miss out on Hoseok’s expression when he realized what the stains are from?” He nudges closer, kissing the spot behind your ear with his swollen lips. “Not a chance.”

You start to drift beneath him content with the warmth and weight of his form. He gives you a few minutes rest caressing the side of your face with the tip of his finger before he poses an important question. “You’re still okay with me staying here then?”

You turn your head to meet his eyes with a smirk. “Yes, but you still have to earn your keep if you want a stay.” You gesture to the state that he’s left the workshop in, “In addition to cleaning up your mess.” 

Seokjin briefly glances to the tools strewn along the ground and then back at you with a smirk. He then shifts his whole body down, dipping his head back between your legs. “Yes ma’am.”  His tongue takes a long stroke, cupping your cum filled cunt. “Hope you don’t mind if I start here.”

[transsexualhamlet]

*slams fists on table* CATASTROPHE ANIME

yeah this is just my long ranting hypothetical post about “omg what if there was an anime for catastrophe at 16″ because I’m like that @autpunk-godling feel free to add on because we just yell about this for hours on end

I have also now brought it up in the discord server just bc i wanna yell about it

This is the recording of all the shit we came up with screaming about it

-it could only possible like after the manga is finished and translated officially plus resurrection novels probably finished or close to but like,,, we can hope, we can dream, please-

-people coming to it and seeing the trailers and shit would probably see the school and the cherry blossoms and go “oh it’s ouran high school host club but like with swords” and then everyone fucking dies and the fans are like I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS???

-everyone new would know the spoilers for the end by like episode 2 bc manga fans wouldn’t be able to shut up cause someone would just like post a screencap of guren saying “i’m gonna save the world” with a pensive emoji under it some anime only would see it and by the end of the day everyone knows how it ends

-gureshin exposure and seeing it on screen like just imagine how fucking gay it’ll look like I swear this would become the new mikayuu like imagine,,, the beginning when he’s leaning over guren’s desk, the love hotel scene, love hotel 2 electric boogaloo, when they fight over who gets to top omg “become my subordinate” “no u” and every time shinya LOOKS at guren, the part where he comes back to guren’s house and goes “uwu you were looking at my phone”, the motorcycle scene, the *thinks about shinya while taking a bath* the entire part where guren goes demon and shinya saves him and holds him and i,,, and well the entire end

-guren’s va in the last episode would be DEAD lemme tell you the SCREAMING I WANT TO HEAR IT

-Hypothetically this would probably cover 2 seasons, the first season covering books 1-3 and 2nd season covering 4-7, and then like. No one’s gonna want to end it at *guren sticks sword in slot* so like uh resurrection’s gonna need to be a thing unless it gets cancelled which uh fuck i hope not

-more appreciation for characters, THERE WOULD BE PEOPLE ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION TO MITO, GOSHI, SHIGURE, AND SAYURI, guren antis would actually just shut up because they’d see him being a fucking softie, and uh well kureto stans would have something to answer for

-the MEME possibility just THINK of the MEMES

-i want to see the trailers,,, i want to see them,,, i want to-

-the levels of horniness compared to vampire reign omg like they’re the same age as yu squad and they like all wanna fuck like how will that translate to anime like

-the. the last episode i. omg it would be so intense I can’t it would be so epic there would be so much blood oh god

-this would cause more exposure for the manga too because 1. the old anime-onlys would come back, 2. everyone already in the manga fandom will be revived for any kind of content, 3. the fans who’ve dropped off will probably watch it, 4. new fans who liked WIT studio shit will be like :eyes emoji:, fans who looked at the trailer and went that sounds kinda gay will watch it, actual shonen fans and people who like high school anime and liked the vampire reign school arc would watch it, like it would have a pretty good base

-like bro there would be actual diversity in ships kjhghjkj like people would actually pay attention to the characters omg please i just want some content like yes of course gureshin but like also the other characters please CATASTROPHE CONTENT OMG I NEED IT C A T A S T R O P H E  C O N T E N T

-you know how the dub for the vampire reign anime is like 80 percent gayer than the sub with the “girlfriend or boyf-” “or a lover” etc uh how can they possibly make some of the shit in ca16 gayer but they WOULD like uh some of the stuff shinya already says in canon is like so fucking gay like the “you’ll never get a husband if you don’t let me clean your wound haha”, the misunderstanding in the love hotel, the “uwu people will think we’re a couple” on the motorcycle, all of that, there’s more, literally every time someone makes a joke about being in love with guren fucking-

-it would actually be good bc new anime tends to be Shit so yeah people would watch it I swear I think it would get even better ratings than vampire reign because it has a comprehensible plot and the ending and shit is already decided, I think different people would like it

-ok but like the problem is there’s a different beginning in the manga and the light novels of ca16. And like, the manga’s beginning would be a really bad thing to go with. In the light novel, the book starts right off with Guren going into first shibuya high school with sayuri and shigure, explaining the situation with the ichinoses and the hiragis. That’s a good beginning, it gives a good idea of what the story’s gonna be like, it doesn’t give away what’s going to happen. Whereas in the manga, they decided to shoot in before that a bullshit chapter that’s straight out of fucking tokyo babylon. I don’t even,,, it was really bad, and it doesn’t even seem to be canon. There’s no indication that’s anything but like crossover fanfic because the gist of that chapter was Guren, Sayuri, and Shigure like,,, exorcising a bitch which is like so not the vibe of this story. It makes no sense?? That’s not even what Guren did in middle school? What???? There’s also a bunch of really offputting shit in there, if you’ve ever seen it. That’s gonna get rid of so many potential fans. It’s a really bad idea. Also at the end it literally gives away the fact that Guren’s gonna end the world which is just. shit. it’s shit. Like everyone’s gonna know anyway just don’t give it away in canon!!! It was a bad idea in the manga and it would be a terrible decision to do in a potential anime.

-what would it even be rated omg like it’s. So much hornier than vampire reign so like I don’t even fucking know like, there is sex,,, with fucking m a h i r u, i don’t like that, and i mean other than that every other word out of someone’s mouth is wanna fuck like that’s fine in a light novel but on screen uh

-!!!!!! THE OP AND ED !!!!!!!!! the SHIT that would be FORESHADOWED in the ENDING i sWEAR TO GOD I JUST WANT TO S E E  I T like even if they just reused scapegoat and xu it would still be fucking amazing LIKE OK. KAGAMI FORESHADOWED CHAPTER 94 WITH THE ORIGINAL ED WHAT THE F U C K KIND OF FORESHADOWING WOULD GO ON WITH CA16

I just really really really want another song to vibe to ok and I want to see the images i want to see them fighting I want to see them in front of cherry blossoms uuuuuuuuuuu please like I want to see Mahiru like posing with two swords or some shit please omg please mahiru don’t turn into a demon you’re so sexy ahaha

like broooo I really just want to see it like anime ops are just so amazing and epic and the eds are all kinda sad and foreshadowy and UH FOR CATASTROPHE THAT��S LIKE A L O T LIKE THE IMAGES THAT PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE ARE JUST GONNA SEE AND GO “F U C K” like just imagine the ed having like. like guren’s sword in a slot in a white room or like a flash forward to the world after it’s ended

-we can see on screen, colored: NOYA, SAITO, (ferid with green hair???), I want to see all of them omg also maybe they can decide for sure what aoi’s eye color is

-THE ELEVATOR FIGHT WITH GUREN AND SAITO GHHHGHGHGHGH I JUST WANNA S E E IT

-we get to see them actually fight with magic and not like jumping off of buildings abilities and shit

-Guren going demon omg omg omg

-BABY YU BABY YU BABY YU BABY MIKA BABY MIKA BABY SHINOA BABY SHINOA

-I think the anime wouldn’t want to have it end with Guren sticking the sword in the slot so I think they’re probably pull a vampire reign episode 1 and after the sword thing just like,,, fast forward to a quick ambiguous shot of Guren at 24 standing in a broken world in his demon army uniform uuuh like OW I WANNA SEE IT I WANT TO SEE IT I WANT TO oH MY GOD THE CINEMATOGRAPHY-

-in conclusion *mails kagami 12 dollars* pwease mw kagami

[spilledinkstories]

One Level Down

(writing prompt: you board an elevator of strangers and someone says “thank you all for coming”— I just kind of ran with this one, didn’t take it too seriously... :P )

“So I bet you are wondering why I’ve asked you here,” said the woman in the red overcoat.

I had been planning this specific trip to my university’s library for about two weeks now. I had placed a hold on a rare copy of a book you could only read in-house, and I had been notified of the date of my viewing. It was in a temperature-controlled basement room, and to be honest, I had been feeling pretty great about the whole experience. Like this made me a Real Scholar, or something. 

It was a book on the archeological findings at a famous site in China. I was writing a paper on how a report provided by women versus men often offered different focal points of the ideas of the ancient society, or different perspectives on that society all together. For example, you might get a bigger focus in a report on home life rather than warfare. That was the department’s hope, anyway. This was of course a research question posed by the department, and I had been wondering what on earth could be so different in two reports filed on the finding of a hairbrush, but anyway. The temperature-controlled room sounded cool, and I was all about that academic aesthetic. I kind of felt like it was part of some Indiana Jones movie, doing research of relics and ancient peoples, being involved in the ongoing discourse around history, the relationship between a person digging up some ancient artifact in a remote land, and then tourists paying pocket change to stare at it for five seconds. 

So, you can imagine my surprise when, crammed on an old elevator with several other people in various states of exhaustion, digging for gum in my overflowing backpack to eradicate the taste of crappy cafeteria coffee on my breath, the woman spoke. 

No one said anything for a couple seconds. 

“Really, no one is curious?” She pressed. 

“We got your memo, ma’am,” said one of the young men in a baggy sweatshirt. 

“Didn’t think to question it,” said another.

“Headquarters told me yesterday, I flew out immediately,” said a girl in a voice simply dripping with a thirst to prove herself. It’s worth mentioning that we were six Americans standing in an elevator in London, England.

“Good,” said the woman in the red coat. 

“Why a library,” whined the first boy. “I thought joining up meant a life of excitement, not…books.”

I had to hide my grin, not wanting to be caught. I don’t know if they knew I didn’t know what was happening, but I’ll tell you: I didn’t. I was intrigued though, and figured it wouldn’t hurt to pretend I was one of them for a little while.

“Well, I assume you all brought your paperwork with you, so we won’t waste any time getting started. I’ve booked the main room down here for one hour, so let’s be sharp, got it?” The woman in red spoke with an authority that was positively presidential. We fell in line like soldiers as the elevator doors creaked open, and she marched down a carpeted hall to what looked like a conference room. 

I was beginning to question my new plan, realizing I’d miss my viewing of the book if I stayed too long with these strangers, when someone spoke in my ear. “I haven’t seen you before, but it’s nice to have another girl on the team. Wanna sit next to me?”

“Okay,” I whispered back. 

“I’m Anna,” she said, smiling.

“Ivy,” I whispered back. 

“Sit,” said the woman in the red coat, as we entered the conference room. She stood at the front and fired up her laptop, and had it projecting onto the screen in a couple of seconds. Images of old manuscripts and letters filled the screen, all too faint to read properly. 

“So, I want you to go around the room really quickly, tell me your names, and your departments,” she commanded, turning quickly to the young man sitting to her left.

“Brandon, fact checking,” he said.

“Adam, restoration,” said the one who had whined that it was a library job. 

“Jake, archeology.” This one shocked me, since he was dressed like a stoner that thought pop music would be the death of culture but was secretly in love with Taylor Swift. Maybe they were all disguised look like students, to blend on campus or something…

I gulped. I was sweating now, the skin behind my knees prickling inside my tights. Clearly this was some official thing – the power suit the boss lady had been hiding under her red coat was proof of that enough. The skater skirt I had on was okay, and my baggy green knit sweater hid the Captain America t-shirt underneath, and my combat boots hid my Dr. Who socks…but I still felt massively out of place. The space buns hairstyle really was the cherry on top. The epitome of e-girl wannabe, nerdy art student, who’d invited herself to this meeting. I gulped again. “Ivy, sociology,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t shake. 

“Anna, state department,” the other girl said directly after I’d spoken. She looked polished too, like an intern at a high end tech company or something. Wait. Did she say state department?

“Great, and I’m Dr. Grayson, here on behalf of, well, a few people. Important people. Okay. Let’s get started. The short version is that the manuscripts you see on this screen are actually fakes, and we have to prove it. The long version is that they were  pulled from a recent dig at a site said to house artifacts from the Byzantine empire, and they are to be displayed at the British Museum next month. It’s a political scheme. In essence, the scientists pushing these documents want to present them to the public as proof that an archaic and brutal form of biochemical warfare was commonly used before, in order to try to naturalize it into the minds of civilians, in hopes that if it’s used later they won’t deem it a warcrime that came out of nowhere.” With that, Dr. Grayson began handing out papers around the table, giving us a moment to digest.

Um. 

What the hell had I walked into? I needed to go. I had to get out of there. But how was I supposed to leave without them knowing I didn’t belong? On the other hand, how was I supposed to sit here and listen to the rest of this and then try to walk away, having heard all their plans? Either way I felt like I was done for. I could feel the sweat prickling my armpits and the backs of my knees, and my toes felt slick inside my shoes. My stomach felt acidic, and I could feel it churning and roiling. I was sure Jake and Anna on either side of me could hear my heart palpitating and my breath coming in short, uneven rasps.

“Your handouts outline the task ahead of us. Of course the lawyers are already trying to handle the scientists putting this research forward as legitimate, so we’re not really going to focus on the publicity angle ourselves. Our focus is to prove that this document is a fake. We’re going to analyze it, and we’ll have to dig up some research on warfare of the time, but we’ll also be dispatching our own team to the dig site. We want to see what other artifacts or things they supposedly dug up there. Anything we can do to discredit this.”

“Right, so Brandon and I can team up, if you want,” Adam said.

“I’d hoped so. You two can work on trying to disprove the authenticity of these artifacts. They’re here actually, in the other room. Being cared for. The staff here put them in the maps room.” 

Holy crap…what had I walked into. I had known choosing to go to university in London would be exiting - I’d always loved British culture, but I thought I’d be reading Shakespeare and arguing essays from Ophelia’s perspective…stuff like that. Saying that Lady Macbeth could be construed as a hero, given women’s issues of the times. Not…this.

“So, that leaves Jake, Anna, and Ivy,” Dr. Grayson was saying, “perfect. We’ll get on the jet, and we should be at the dig in about three hours. You’ll be fitted with the proper tools, of course.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. Why had I followed them off that elevator?

An hour later I was seated between Jake and Anna on a very small airplane, taking off from Heathrow. 

“So, state department, huh? Couldn’t stand to let actual scientists get some work done without a babysitter?” Jake tossed this scornfully at Anna, ignoring me who was awkwardly slumped in my seat and wishing I didn’t exist.

“Unsupervised scientists are exactly what created this mess, dumbo.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe you called me that. Dumbo. Ouch. How am I going to be able to focus on my work, with a wound so deep?” 

“Ugh,” Anna rolled her eyes, and turned to look out her window. And by god, I wish she hadn’t, because Jake turned to me instead.

“Cute hair, by the way. You blended in really well. Sociology, you said? What’s your area?” I gulped, my throat feeling like it was made of carpet. I was an introvert to begin with, so honest conversation with strangers posed enough of a challenge. But this was another beast entirely.

“Im interested in women’s suffrage,” I squeaked.

“Of course you are. No, I didn’t mean your disguise,” he said with a laugh. He must have mistaken my anxiety for anger, because he followed with “I mean, we’re all into women’s rights. Don’t get me wrong. I just meant…like…what’s your speciality, like, why’d you get put on this specific case?” 

I wracked my brains so hard I wondered if it was possible to inflict a concussion that way.

“I was in the middle of conducting research on how different teams of anthropologists or archeologists can influence the public image of ancient societies, based on publication and subsequent publicity.” 

“Oh, so you’re from the office of public affairs, basically,” he said in a bored voice. 

“Have you ever been to a dig before?” Anna asked, sounding politely interested. I simply shook my head. 

“Okay, no worries, Jake and I can handle the grunt work, and you can focus on your write-up. I’m sure you’ve got a tight deadline for this.” I smiled appreciatively, blown away that my answer had satisfied them and terrified of making things worse. 

“Wait, I thought Grayson said we weren’t covering the publicity, that they had lawyers on it,” Jake said.

“It’s more academics,” I said vaguely, and they nodded as though this meant something significant. 

Thank the lord we spent the rest of the flight in relative silence, reading through the documents Grayson had handed out. They really just outlined procedures for the dig site, and our capacity there, but Anna had assured me I could just linger to a side with a laptop if I wanted.

We touched down in Genoa around three in the afternoon. 

At least if it was my last day as a free citizen on this earth, I could say I’d gone to Italy with a frankly quite attractive scientist boy. Not a bad last day, as these things go. With mountains on one side and the sea on the other, it was absolutely breathtaking. If I hadn’t been in the middle of an hours-long panic attack, I think it would have been the best day of my life. 

Off the plane, we got into an SUV right there on the tarmac, and as I watched the scenery slip from urban to rural I wondered what had inspired these fake scientists or whatever to even want to do this. What kind of biochemical warfare were they suggesting? Dr. Grayson hadn’t said, and none of the paperwork had said it either. I suppose the others back in London would decode it from the manuscripts, if that’s what they were doing, but…

“So you’re here to report on us, Anna tells me. I was wondering who you were,” Grayson spoke in a quiet voice from the front seat. I said nothing, feeling like my throat was going to swell shut in panic. Was I busted? Would they tie rocks to my feet and toss me out to sea?

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to speak up until we were on our way. The bureaucrats never want the researchers involved, but then they get mad when the researchers say something they don’t like, so what’s the point? You may as well be here and get the proper intel.” She swivelled in the front seat to face me. “Don’t make me regret it, got it?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said in what I hoped was a winning voice. I saw a smirk tugging at the corners of Jake’s mouth, and tried to soothe the raging panic in my head and stomach. 

The dig site was honestly kind of disappointing. I had built it up in my head to look like a whole government facility built on a crater in the ground, with tents, scaffolding, desks, the works. But nope. This was just a crater in the ground, with a couple of ropes spanning the width of it here and there, I guess to mark the split between sections or something. That, and a couple of stools and ladders, and it was your run-of-the-mill pit.

“You’ll want this. Don’t forget the back of the neck,” Jake said, handing me a tube of sunscreen. 

“Oh, thanks,” I said, smirking as I took a bit and passed it on to Anna, who began vigorously rubbing some into her face and arms. 

“Tools are in the trunk,” Grayson said, “I’ll be in the car as I have to update the Upstairs. Private phone call, you get it. Get to work.” Anna sprung into action. It was like she was racing Jake to get the tools and pick a spot first, wanting to beat him at every turn. 

“You’re not even a real archeologist,” he grumbled, leaving my side to gather his equipment. 

“Tell that to the state department,” she called, and he looked pissed that she’d heard. 

“Which state, even?” He asked.

“Virginia.” 

“CIA then?” 

“Not necessarily.” 

I said nothing, letting them bicker. I went to the trunk and peered in, seeing a stack of coveralls. I picked on up to inspect it, thinking it might be nice to cover up my outfit that was feeling less and less professional by the second. 

“Good thinking,” Anna said, grabbing a pair herself. All suited up, she pulled a laptop out of a bag and passed it to me. 

“Here ya go, I guess you didn’t get a chance to bring yours.”

“Is there internet here?” I asked.

“Yep, car acts as a router. High tech,” she said. I took the computer from her silently.

The three of us trudged back to the pit, where the other two lost no time hopping in and surveying their turf. 

“So,” I said awkwardly, “we’re supposed to see if we can find any other manuscripts? Or anything suggesting biochemical warfare?”

“Partly, yeah. I’m also going to be inspecting the dig site itself to try to disprove that they found any paper substances. Particles left behind, impressions in the ground, you know.” Jake was bobbing his head, hands on his hip, looking like my dad about to mow the lawn on Sunday morning.

“You can do that?” I asked. He laughed, seeming to think I was being facetious. I wasn’t. I was just clueless, but I guess I’m glad he didn’t see it.

“I’ll just watch you both work for a while, and then I’ll start my write-up. I need to observe to figure out my angle.” I tried to muster as much authority in my voice as possible, as though I’d done this kind of thing before. 

“Yeah, okay,” Anna said absently. A couple of minutes later and some awkward waiting with my hands in my pockets, laptop waiting on a stool, the others had picked work spots and gotten to it. 

The silence was broken only by the sound of shifting dirt, and the occasional ruffle or grunt from one of them. Subtle glances back to the car suggested that Grayson may not be joining us in the pit at all, which was a relief. I watched as Jake poked and prodded at the ground, a look of deep concentration on his face, compared to Anna’s digging with all the fervour of a child told to find treasure in a sandbox. 

There was nothing for it. I went over to the stool, opened the laptop, and started typing. I wrote of the bureaucratic nature of science, as Grayson had put it in the car, and how publication could really be a business. How people had to fight to get their ideas heard. How certain things were deemed more or less important to the government for example, versus the public sphere. 

Basically, I sat in coveralls, on a stool in a pit in Genoa, Italy, and wrote my term paper. 

I tried to spin it so that the finding of a hairbrush, or a kitchen tool, would be treated very differently than the finding of a weapon, and whether or not it was a man or woman who discovered it really made no difference. Both men and women work in bureaucratic systems and in academics in today’s world, and both have access to controlling information. I wrote something like that, hoping if Grayson checked what I’d been working on, she’d see it as a government report on academia, since that was my only thread of legitimacy to work with where these strangers were concerned. After I finished I quickly emailed it to myself, hoping no-one would notice, and then I could just email my professor saying I couldn’t see the book I was supposed to but I’d written a paper for the deadline anyway.

By the time I’d finished my write up it was nearing six o’clock. Jake pulled up a stool next to me, and braced his forearms on his knees. 

“I can’t see any evidence of a real dig here. I don’t get it,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I said slowly, closing the laptop, having quadruple checked that I’d sent the work to my school email and saved it.

“I mean there wasn’t a dig here. This isn’t a real archeological site.” 

“So where did the fake manuscripts come from then?” I asked, wondering how on earth he could tell.

“I don’t know. I also don’t know why Grayson wouldn’t have known that before we got out here.” 

“Well, someone had to be the first to check,” I offered, blushing a little for fear this was a stupid comment. He looked at me, real suspicion entering his eyes for the first time.

“There are scientists in Italy. We didn’t need to fly out here to check it. Something’s up.” In the setting sun, the green flecks in his brown eyes caught the light, and I realized he was younger than I had originally thought. He couldn’t have been out of school that long.

“Maybe Grayson is in on it?” But before Jake could reply to this, Anna joined us in our little corner of the pit.

“Anyone have any water?” Jake passed her some, and she gulped it down before saying, “I’ve been digging for almost three hours and haven’t found a single thing.” 

I felt the familiar surges of panic making their way through my veins, making my ears ring and my head feel stuffy, and making the other two feel oddly distant. 

“Maybe the site has already been cleared out?” I offered, my voice squeaky. Anna passed me the water bottle, mistaking my rasp for thirst.

“How’s it going down here?” The three of us froze, staring at each other. Grayson had gotten out of the car, and hopped into the pit, the heels of her shoes sinking an inch or two in the loose dirt. She shuffled over to us, maintaining her look of authority. 

“Yeah, good,” Jake said, “I think I’ve seen all I need to for a first look.” 

“You’re only getting one look,” she drawled.

“I haven’t found any other artifacts,” Anna said, “I think whoever was here before cleared everything out.” 

“And where would they have put it?” Grayson demanded. Anna fell silent, taken aback. 

“I don’t think anyone really was here before. I think this is a fabricated dig site.” While I didn’t know Jake very well, there was no mistaking the challenge in his voice. Grayson’s eyes narrowed a little, and she took a couple steps closer to where Jake was seated beside me, so she could tower over him. 

“And what are you suggesting, exactly, Jake?” 

“When I’m working I go by Dr. Miller. I’m suggesting that they gave you a fake location to send you on a goose chase, or that perhaps those manuscripts don’t exist at all.”

“Then what would you suggest is in the maps room back in London?” She said dangerously. 

“I couldn’t tell you, seeing as I never saw them in person.” A grin flickered on Grayson’s face. I caught Anna’s eye from where she was standing behind Grayson, and read the worry as a pretty bad sign. 

“Who would want to send me on a wild goose chase?”

“You’re the government official, not me. Who exactly do you work for, Dr. Grayson? And what are you a doctor of, exactly?”

“Political science, it’s just a title. I work for the secretary of defence.” At this, Jake laughed in her face. 

“The U.S. government is worried about some old scroll they dug up in the mountains that suggests some ancient civilization knew how to…what? Poison each other? This is a joke, right?” Jake stood up and strolled away from the group, shaking his head.

“Not poison,” she said quietly.

“Then what?” I asked, immediately realizing I’d broken my vow to myself to keep my stupid gob shut.

“Classified,” she said with an arched brow.

“So again, why fake the site?” Anna asked. 

“The scientists who produced the documents could have said it was here to buy time until the exhibition,” I offered, since Grayson was still staring at me. She flicked an eyebrow up again, and finally broke her stare to turn her eyes on Jake.

“Are any of you wearing microphones?” She asked. 

“No,” we all said unanimously. She exhaled wearily, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes.

“Alright. What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this pit. The scrolls outline a way of spreading a virus that was apparently employed all the way back then. Given the recent pandemic all over the world, that’s not the kind of thing the public needs to be seeing. But these scientists are convinced it needs to go public. You can see how that would strike fear into the hearts of everyone. They’d all be convinced they were the recent victims of a large-scale government attack.” 

“Who are these scientists? Archeologists, whoever?” Anna said, disgust colouring her words.

“We’re wasting time here, we can talk about this on the jet back to London. I want to see those manuscripts,” Jake said, and he strode to the edge of the pit and hauled himself out. I was shocked that Grayson didn’t counter his authority, and instead followed him. 

I slept most of the plane ride back to London. I’d listened to them bicker and swap theories while we ate our way through a couple of pizzas that were waiting for us on the tarmac, but they’d mostly talked in circles. The more they talked, the less Grayson really seemed to know, and Jake kept saying he needed to see these artifacts.

With the time change back, it was about nine when we landed, and ten pm when we reached the university. I felt better, having slept a bit, but my head was still pounding with exhaustion from the events of the day.

We loaded ourselves back into the same elevator in the university library, and headed one level down. Instead of going to the conference room we headed down another hallway, where the map room was tucked away.

“They said they were still here,” Grayson said, leading us. She opened the door, and I would have been impressed by the collection of old maps had I not flown to the northern coast of Italy and back that afternoon.

“Where are they?” Jake asked harshly. 

“I don’t know,” Grayson admitted. 

“Dr. Grayson, have you worked with either Brandon or Adam previously?” Anna asked. 

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t worked with any of you before.” 

“Do you know who they work for?” Anna pressed. 

“No.”

“They just said fact checking and restoration. That could be government, a university,” Anna was trailing off. 

“A museum, even,” Jake offered. 

“I mean now that I think of it, you didn’t check any of our credentials,” Anna said, glaring at Grayson. 

“Hang on a minute, I knew five people were supposed to be joining me in the map room. I don’t appreciate your suggestion that I’m incompetent. They’re probably out grabbing coffee.”

“But how do we know they weren’t just two random guys on the elevator?” Anna said, wringing her hands. I was beginning to think she was scared that her own butt was on the line here, but mine was too so…relatable. 

“Oh, you’re back, perfect,” said a voice as the door opened, and Brandon and Adam walked in. The room was cramped with all of us standing in there. 

“From what we can tell, they’re real,” Adam said.

“They can’t be, the dig site seemed fake,” Jake said. “Let me see it.”

“I mean, obviously more rigorous testing has to be done than what we can do in a day, but it seems pretty authentic to me,” Brandon was saying as he led Jake over to where they’d been examining a very old, gross looking scroll of paper.

“Who do you two work for?” Grayson asked them, and they looked at her in shock. 

“I work for the British Museum, in the restoration department,” Adam said a little uncertainly. 

“I work for the university here, but I was hired as a consultant by the government,” Brandon said a little pompously. 

“And who do you work for?” Grayson said, turning on me. 

My throat burned. My eyes stung. I felt my head swimming, my palms prickling and my knees shaking. My limbs felt weirdly weightless. They were all staring at me now, and I knew there was nothing for it. 

“It’s like Anna said…I was just a stranger on the elevator. I followed you guys to the conference room earlier half as a joke, and then I got too scared to leave cause I thought I’d get in trouble,” it was all just tumbling out of me, and I didn’t care that tears were tracking down my face. “I should never have gotten on the plane, I should have never even followed you down the hall off of the elevator. I was on my way to look at an old book for a sociology paper I’m supposed to submit this weekend.”

To my absolute shock, Jake started to laugh. Not just a chuckle, he really laughed. Despite myself, I laughed a little too.

“I really was supposed to write a paper on different perspectives on the publications in the archeology and anthropology world, but this took it to a whole new level. I did a write up at the dig site and emailed it to myself to submit for class, but I can delete it if you want.” I looked at Grayson, fear spiking in my gut again. 

“I’ll read it first, but you clearly know nothing so I’m sure it’s harmless,” she said with an eye roll. why had I laughed? Surely ‘apologetic’ and terrified was what I should be going for, not acting like I was gloating.

“Are you gonna lock me up?” I squeaked, fresh hot tears running into my mouth and off my chin.

“What for? So you came to Italy, big deal. If Jake is right and the site is fake, you basically flew with us to see a random hole in the ground. We’ll draft up a non-disclosure agreement, track your phone for a few days, keep an eye on you…to be honest, with something like this, it doesn’t really matter that one little girl knows.” I was a bit offended at being called a little girl, but I took her point. Even if I posted about today all over my social medias, I would be discounted pretty quickly by the public, especially since I had no photos to back it up. Kinda like that history channel guy convinced aliens were responsible for historical landmarks.

“So…” I started, unsure what I was attempting to say. 

Adam pulled a wad of cafeteria napkins out of his pocket. “It’s okay, no one thinks you meant anything by it. You got swept up in it. No big deal.” 

“It still doesn’t answer my question though,” Jake insisted. “Where did these come from? If they are real, why do they surface now? Who found them? And if they’re fake, still who?”

“All I know is my boss gave me the assignment,” Grayson shrugged. 

“What does that mean? You’re blaming the American government for this?” Anna said acidly. 

I sat down in a chair tucked in the corner, glad I didn’t have to pretend I knew what was going on, or that I had any roll in this. 

“Can I go?” I asked, suddenly desperate for silence and solitude. I’d had enough.

“Yeah. We know where to find you,” Grayson said, exhaustion dripping from her own voice. 

I left the room. I walked back down the hallway, boarded the elevator and left the university library. I walked back to my dorm, in a complete daze, unable to process the day I’d just experienced. I’d snuck into some top secret government meeting and flown to Italy to attempt to disprove evidence of an ancient virus spreading technique. 

At least I’d still managed to write my paper, and I’d tried pizza in Italy, so that was pretty cool. 

A week later, with an A on my paper that I’d turned in, headlines broke that people suspected foul play with the pandemic we’d just survived the year prior. People began to suspect that it was brought on by some government or other, but then other outlets said that was just paranoia. Others still said it was old news, and what were we supposed to do about it anyway.

I bought a ticket to the British Museum, and saw the manuscript on display for everyone to see. A little blurb was posted beside it, saying how its authenticity was severely questioned, but it was no doubt real. 

No one seemed to care. I never did find out where those manuscripts really came from.

[another-writer]

Begin Again: Chapter 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7  End

Tags are at the bottom; let me know if I’ve missed you or you wanna be added! Thanks for reading along, and for all the feedback, it’s super appreciated! x

This is partially filler, I hold my hands up to that. Still some kinda fun stuff. Hope you enjoy!

‘[Y/N], don’t you think he’s got a point?’

As much purpose as you felt, you imagined you looked comically weak, walking at a slow enough pace so not to strain yourself but still serious enough. Whether it was more embarrassing or not, Bucky had slowed down from a normal speed to stay with you.

‘What do you think I’m going to do, exactly?’ you scowled. ‘I'm not an idiot.’

‘You’re just as impulsive as Stark is.’

You didn’t like the accusation in his voice. ‘Bucky, I hate to play this card but, I’m the one who got stabbed here, I think I’ve earned at least knowing who did it.’

Bucky stayed quiet.

If Bucky was going to be put off by you keeping something important from him, you weren’t going to take it lying down. You hadn’t intended on hiding it from him for the sake of his ‘fragility’ (you didn’t even think was fragile), but for the sake of Tony.

You marched into the lab, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. Tony was silently telling you to leave; the fact that he didn’t voice it meant he was being lenient. You ignored his glare and stood next to Bruce who was scrolling through several documents at the same time on different monitors.

‘What’ve we got?’

Bruce settled on what looked like a profile page. The man’s photograph on the left and information on the right, all in Russian.

‘His name’s Artur Ivanov. Born 1974. That’s all I can read from this.’

‘His mother was American,’ Natasha continued, leaning closer to the screen,  blue eyes scanning the Russian words with impressive speed. ‘Born in Norilsk, family moved here ... He’s been serving in Hydra since he was forty and formed some sub-organisation when it collapsed. Before all that ... he was a cop.’

Steve quirked an eyebrow. ‘Can we track him down?’

‘FRIDAY?’ Tony alerted.

A  hologram map of Central and North America arose across the lab bench in  the middle of the room, prompting everyone in the room to gather around  the center.

‘Scanning all cameras from Queens outwards.’ FRIDAY’s voice boomed from the speakers. The map zoomed in closer and closer on North America, until -

‘I’m sorry - Dover?’ you scowled, but not loud enough that everyone could hear you. ‘You get missions in Africa and Europe and the guy who stabs me is in Delaware?

‘Looks like was last seen here at an active base half an hour ago after being rescued. They used stolen rental cars.’ Natasha leaned away from the hologram, reading the room.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud given how strange it would sound, but the news that he was alive lightened your heart slightly. ‘Do we know what happened to the other guy?’

An image of the barista with a bullet in his skull and a pistol lying by his open fist appeared.

‘They must’ve shot him dead,’ Bucky muttered. ‘Cleared all traces.’

Wanda paled slightly at the image. ‘Why would they shoot one and save the other?’

‘That guy knew I was there and probably didn’t tell him,’ you replied. ‘I’m guessing Hydra doesn’t take too kindly to errors. Ivanov must be important if they kept him around.’

Steve was studying the image of the two men unconscious on the ground from when you had left them. ‘If these guys know Bucky is out of cryo and were in New York, then we don’t have much time before they come for us.’

'Shouldn’t you wait?’ you asked quietly, looking up at Tony for approval. You then realised you were speaking to people at a much higher qualification than you; while you were sure they hadn’t meant to look intimidating, you still took a moment to hold your own. ‘I’m just saying, I got hurt because they knew I’m close to Tony. Maybe Bucky’s not the only one they’re after. What if they’re trying to provoke you too?’

‘No.’ Bucky’s voice caught you off-guard. He looked like he had been mulling the information in his head, allowing it to settle before he had spoken. ‘If they’re after Tony, or any of you, I’m not gonna wait until they make another move,’ he continued. 'We don’t know what they want with me, but I want to lead this one.’ Despite Bucky having melted into the walls before, he spoke with an authority you hadn’t heard before.

And, as if answering an unasked but lingering question - Why do you want this so badly? - ‘I know him,’ he said curtly. ‘I worked with him, more than once.’  

You were sure you weren’t the only one drawn by the staring contest between Bucky and Tony. Although Bucky was being positive, there was still something tense about their interaction. Tony’s expression was unreadable.

‘Tony,’ you asked quietly. ‘you’re okay with them going?’

‘I’m not in charge, technically they can do what they want,’ he replied, eventually looking away.

Tony’s change in attitude took you by surprise. He could be impulsive but the severity of the situation would, under usual circumstances, cause him to approach with caution ever since Sokovia. He wouldn’t change his mind without reason.

‘I’m coming too,’ said Natasha, her eyes vacant from your conversation and heavy with her own thoughts. She looked up at everyone around her and nodded slightly, as if agreeing with her own words.

Steve didn’t seem thrown. ‘If they find out, they won’t trust you again.’

‘They already don’t,’ she said, folding her arms and shrugging lightly. ‘You guys do, though. And you’ll need what I know.’

‘So, aside from - what - the wrath of the United Nations, there’s no downside,’ Sam said nonchalantly.

‘Okay,’ said Bucky, ‘we’ll fly out in an hour.’

When you saw the others next, they had mapped their strategy out and were filing through the compound on their way to the hangar, ready to leave within the hour. With Rhodes needed elsewhere - you tended to forget he had another job - only you and Tony were the ones left. He had helped you out of the room, trying to stick to principle by not involving himself. You could tell it was killing him.

You were walking to your lab space when you saw Bucky walking towards you, and you were unsure of whether to say something or not. It was his first mission since you had arrived at the compound, and it felt odd not to, regardless if things had become rocky.

‘I know you’ve done this before,’ you said apprehensively, leaning your shoulder against the wall and folding your arms, ‘but it’s new to me, seeing you go on one of these things.’

Bucky had been making a beeline for the elevators to the main reception behind you, stopping as though he hadn’t expected you there, or was lost in his thoughts.

‘There anything I can do to ease your mind?’ he asked, recovering from his daze, hands in his pockets. His pose was a strange contrast to his tactial gear.

You shrugged half-heartedly. ‘You’ll come back in one piece, right?’ you tried to sound  nonchalant, but you heard malaise slip through. ‘You’ve  sort of got a reputation of splitting in two,’ you added, eyes  darting to his Vibranium arm and then back.

Bucky caught you looking and smiled, looking crafty. ‘I’m feeling pretty good about this one, I think it’s gonna last.’

‘As  long as the rest of you does too,’ you said before you could help it,  enjoying the banter that seemed more usual to yours and Bucky’s  conversations. ‘I kind of wish I was going. I can’t imagine I’d be of much use.’

Stop talking, you seethed at yourself.

He shook his head. ‘I’m glad you’re staying,’ he said. ‘Not because I think you’d be useless,’ he added quickly. ‘Just ... you should rest.’

After a beat, he said, ‘I shouldn’t be pissed you didn’t tell me.’

‘We don’t have to talk about that.’ You shook your head mildly. Annoyed as you were about Bucky’s reaction, it was also reasonable (to an extent) and given that he had to go and potentially risk his life at that moment, you figured it wasn’t important.

‘I just,’ he stopped, looking for the right words, one hand going to run through his hair, ‘I get why you had to. And you didn’t owe me that anyway.’

The sound of the elevator alerted you.

‘Hey!’ Sam called. ‘Jet’s ready, let’s go.’ He jerked his head towards the elevator, gesturing for Bucky to make a move. You realised he still probably had to load up on weaponry. ‘[Y/N], what are you doing standing up?’

You raised your hands in mock surrender and backed away. ‘I’m going, save your energy.’

Bucky, walking back with Sam, turned to look at you. ‘I’ll see you soon?’

Tags:

@lauraonly @mytastereckless @hedakylo @wefracturedmotivation @eternal-queen @dontfuckwithkezolas @fanfictionreblog @mrs-brxghtside @sociallyimpairedme @lexbugz @ephemeral-high @engineeringgirlcve @sleepretreat @rosemist​ @kayuwu-nii​ @holyheadharpiesplayer @thesummerbucky​ @aspoonfuloflanguage​ @baebeepeach @cdwmtjb8​ @jihugawa​ @genisawkward​ @beezyg​ @disgustingpatdstan​ @letterstomyself21​ @shesthelastjedi​ @forever157​ @hawkeyethenerd-blog​ @d-eracine​ @merandalynnvarela @ijustwantahugfromtennant​ @shirukitsune​ @buckysblondie​ @thatoneslytherinbeater​ @fantasticchaoticwho​ @mischiefsthings​ @buckysonfire @benedrylcumbersnatch​ @marvel-fan-queen​ @nutellakirb​ @casssr​ @our-neverland-world​ @ifont @multisposts​ @whyugottabsorude @gothemmafrost​ @buckyyyybarnestrash @millie-m-falcon77​ @multifangorl​ @ohnosiren​ @kynthiasaints​ @topthis808​

[ddaenghoney]

chapter seventeen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): quite a bit of unsettling/paranoia themes around the middle of the chapter (again in regards to stalking from fans). Also, some making out that alludes to more after it ! 

Word count: 5481

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Headlines of multiple news sites, trending hashtags, and seemingly hundreds of threads in online forums center around the topic that goes viral the day after. With SoundWave wasting no time to act subtly, choosing to take a blunt rebuttal of the independent release of music, they announce a separation of SUGA from the label. Without offering much other than the central reasoning in the official statement attributing a lack of loyalty, and openly rebellious attitude in the way of involving his personal relationships into his music without consent of the company, Yoongi’s public reputation takes a giant strike.

The primary attitude of his fanbase is startled confusion, as is similarly the feelings of pop culture commenters, who all agree that this action made by SoundCloud seems incredibly rash considering how high of status the title SUGA has in the music industry. A threshold of rumors contaminate social websites, all trying to gauge underlying motivations for the company’s decision to completely drop Min Yoongi from the label, feeling like there has to be more words each side could make but holds back.

With slowly passing weeks of conversation stirring faster from the sensationalized wonder that accumulates in the silence of both involved parties, fandoms grow impatient. A future tour scheduled to begin early next year is obviously squashed, and the subtle hints of new music thrown far from any burner of focus. Worry holds a multitude of loyal fans who are eager for clarification from their favorite idol, but no answers are clearly given. Blurry images of Yoongi to and from SoundWave only serve to prove that there are talks going on, especially when sightings of him and Taehyung begin growing consistent as well as thought to be moving vans relocating assumed sound equipment.

Naturally, frustration builds. Latching in tight grips onto every instance your name or image appears on the internet, angry shouts question your involvement with this entire ordeal. Confused as people are, they have little doubt that you deserve the bulk of blame for this dissent between Yoongi and SoundWave. After all, everything had always seemed steady in growth for SUGA’s career before your public involvement with him.

You realize this isn’t true. So much of the situation still lingers in the darkness, far from cameras and microphones to state the severity of everything that led the sequence of events to this point. You know that this whole problem isn’t entirely your fault, but it feels like it. Words cling to your psyche every time you try to peruse even the filtered social media feed of those you follow on instagram, but the comments still remain and grow on every one of your own posts, making you delete the app after only three days into the chaotic situation.

Apologies become common, though usually squashed within your reply to whenever Yoongi tells you them. Worry brims in his eyes just as well as his chest every time he notices anything off in your expressions that relate to all of the responses online. You’re quick to state that this isn’t his fault either, and not to worry about the silence he’s forced to keep while legal affairs are being handled. You’ve already settled yourself with the high chance that he won’t ever be able to make a statement that gives out the picture, just like you won’t ever be able to without losing every royalty you have.

While the online response does burn on your nerves, you can calm yourself by remembering it will eventually blow over to a new topic. It could take a lot of time, but eventually you’ll be able to not be the villain in every assumed narration of Yoongi being fired from SoundWave. Instead, concern wraps around any thoughts you have towards a new job.

With your work history visibly clean of any ink on your resume, you don’t have much to say to combat the fact. And as such you simply use your degree as well as projects from when you were a college student to talk yourself up. But you aren’t naive-- you realize that the gap of time from you receiving your diploma to the current date unease potential employers.

At this point, you’re no longer surprised. The man sitting across from you sits tapping his pen on papers in front of him. They’re spread in a controlled mess on a folder you brought. His eyes scan the words over, but because of the minute hand on the clock behind him reaching a new number, you’re inclined to believe the silence so far isn’t favorable.

Answering the initial questions isn’t usually difficult. In fact, you believe you win over a few uncertain glances in the way you speak with experience, but any opinion gained usually diminishes at the skinny portfolio you present. Every time you’ve passed it, you also feel underwhelmed by the humble sight of it, garnering none of the weight you should have the thin wings filled with. All of that is within your mind.

All of the tension in your mind fills more and more, contemplating what there is to take away from your meager showings of visible experience. This tension comes to a throbbing disappointment when the majority of those who have looked at the portfolio mention Yoongi’s name under their breath.

A large part of you becomes increasingly defensive from these tiny comments. Controlling your mouth from blurting questions in reply to their intentions is a difficult task, especially when the issues have been consistent. Multiple misinterpretations veil over the actual situation underneath the media’s depictions and what your residual contractual obligations to SoundWave will let you fix.

The man’s eyebrows furrow, his head tilting as something he sees perplexes him. You don’t openly react, simply sitting in the chair, legs not particularly tensely poised on the floor and your back only erect enough to be formal. Posture forgot a few interviews ago in favor of knowing glances at the employers body languages when reading through. This subtle confused realization on his face is familiar, but you smile politely as he gets up stating he needs to step out for a moment. As though he’s the first one to go ask questions about you to other people.

Walking into the lobby from the small meeting room, you do little more than sigh, reaching to rub your shoulder as you contemplate your next action. The man’s voice when he came back to the room and stated you’ll get contact in the future if they’d like to explore job opportunities was entirely monotone, and you can’t even be offended by the fact at this point.

Still, reality weighs on your shoulders, growing uncomfortably nagging, and at quickening paces when televisions like the one hanging on the opposite wall post pop news stations with Yoongi’s pictures and titles of dissention between himself and SoundWave.

“Oh,” A voice from the side disrupts the settling glare in your eyes. Softening your expression to one of surprise you turn your head as a figure comes to you. A smile on her face that seems disingenuous, but fitting when matched with the consistent brand name on each article of clothing apparent. “It was Y/N, right?”

In the medley of companies you set out to try landing jobs at, you didn’t take into consideration their current idols. More interested in just getting a place to continue working. But as Seulgi approached you from the way of the elevators, there’s a piece inside of you somewhat glad you’re likely to be rejected from this one. “Yeah.”

“What a coincidence to run into you here.” She says as she places her phone in her handbag. “Looking for work? Heard that you’ve taken a chance at the music production world.”

For the sake of pleasantry, you don’t irritably sigh from having to deal with this immediately following an unsatisfying industry. Instead just shrug your shoulder, “Something like that.”

“Guess it hasn’t been going well,” You’re unable to stop your eyebrows from narrowing at her, but Seulgi is unhindered from your evidently growing annoyance. “It’s a hard thing getting through scandals, especially when you don’t have anything to show for yourself.”

“Such a hard thing that you didn’t mind shoving your boyfriend into it.” You roll your eyes, head shaking as you start to walk away.

“Well, actually,” She catches up to your pace, overlapping you to cut off your trec to the front doors. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Hoseok could use a hand, right? If you want to try to get some work, why not ask him? Independent work is good to help build a resume-- though, I guess Hoseok’s reputation and Yoongi’s current one don’t make companies feel comfortable-”

“What are you trying for here?” Your tone causes a falter of expression in Seulgi’s face, shifting it into a muted shock. Her smile replaces itself with pursing lips, then eventually the picturesque way she poses her shoulders also deflates. Appearing much less superficial, though now openly tired with frustration from the little act she tried to play with you.

“What? I can’t try and do a nice thing for my ex?”

“Ex that you threw under the bus.” Unhesitant. You cross your arms. “Why in the world would I think you’re not trying to gain something right now too?”

“You’re just like Yoongi--I get the relationship now.” She sighs, playing with her hair as her eyes trail off to nowhere. “Well, the relationship you ended up getting yourself after all.”

Your arms tense over your front, quietly startled that she seems aware of the false beginning with your relationship with Yoongi, and even acknowledging that it’s currently real. Part of you wants to question how she’s found out the tidbit of information, though it’s not a top concern of yours. The small fact that she has methods to get information throughout the industry is odd, but you doubt it needs to be a worrisome issue.

“Anyways, I was just offering a suggestion. Three songs aren’t going to cut it to get top companies like this one to let you in.” As if you needed her to say that when the past week has only been proof of that. Seulgi adjusts the hoodie she wears so that it no longer falls off a shoulder, and her eyes appear introspective for the moment of silence before speaking again. “You’re not going to get anywhere without stepping on a few people along the way. You can’t play along with all the rules and expect to succeed.”

If her tone remained snarky, you would have shot a comment in return, as the instant thought in your brain relates Seulgi’s words to her actions against Hoseok in the past. However, the simplistic way she spoke was calm, almost bordering into a somber timbre hidden beneath the surface. At that moment you feel like you see something inside of that shadow, but you don’t have the liberty of pondering it.

“Seulgi, I thought you were using the big dance studio right now.” A voice enters into the conversation, making Seulgi’s head turn back towards the entrance. Looking beyond her, you see a face you again would have expected if you took any consideration to the companies you were skipping through for interviews. “Oh,” Jeongguk’s eyes widen, catching sight of you, a smile forming as he speaks on in happy surprise, “Y/N! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“Hi, Jeongguk.” You give a little smile and nod as a greeting.

“Yeah, I’m late.” Seulgi speaks up while she takes a step to begin a smooth leave, eyeing Jeongguk then you in curiosity of how there’s a mutual connection. But her final words have nothing to do with questions. “Sorry about that whole thing at my party, by the way. Taking your date and all. Just getting a conversation Yoongi owed me.”

Her vague insinuation makes your eyes narrow, following her figure as she casually goes. Already knowing the content of the conversation she had with Yoongi, you’re left to assume that she speaks in a way to ingrain seeds of uncertainty or jealousy under your skin, but all the needless comment does is further you from any positive opinions of Seulgi.

“Something about that seemed hostile.” Jeongguk states as the two of you watch Seulgi disappear down a hall. Instead of screaming out intelligibly from the frustration of your day so far, you just exhale a long sigh, turning your head back towards Jeongguk. His mouth curls into a slightly uneasy smile, not sure of what he just stumbled in on, “Everything okay?”

“I can’t wait to go home and sleep, to be honest with you.” You admit, trying to get humor into your voice, but you’re sure your expression betrays any chance of a joking ambiance as Jeongguk slowly nods bouncing his long locks of soft, warm-toned pink. “Your band is going to be performing at the river festival this weekend, right? Saw online.”

“Yeah, we have a set in the late evening. You going?” His demeanor is wholly casual, pronounced further in the relaxation of his shoulders and lazily situated hands in the pockets of his big hoodie.

“I would, but now’s not really the best time for me to be doing much out.” You smile as your eyebrows furrow a bit. For a moment you consider the fact that he may not know anything, as you recall him not being one to peruse comment sections of social media sites. But as Jeongguk’s lips cast into a frown, he recalls the news your words refer to,

“Oh, right; I heard about that all.” He bites his lip, while removing a hand from the confines of his pocket to push back hair from his face. “Actually, I’ve been out of the country with my group for almost six months now, and, it’s not really my place to ask, but have you been okay since,” He pauses, quickly taking a scan around the area like others may be listening in. “Well, you know.”

You nod your head, understanding that he means to inquire about your state of mind since breaking things off from Jimin at the beginning of the year. “For awhile I really wasn’t,” You admit, but find yourself able to smile as you continue on with full assurance, “But I’m more than okay now. My career may be sort of crazy, but I have people that care about me, so I’m fairing a lot better than I would’ve ever thought.”

“That’s good.” Jeongguk smiles, and parts of you are sure that perhaps he’s even the smallest bit sad that there isn’t hesitation in your voice because his friendship with Jimin would likely root for the fact. But he’s not unfair in that regard, always having been a supportive, close friend of Jimin, but not to the extent of harboring ill sentiment about things like this. “If you’re looking for song writing work just let me know; my band liked the three tracks you and Yoongi released, and I always thought it’d be cool to work with you on lyrics anyways.”

“What?” You blurt in surprise, eyes widening from the easygoing proposition, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk grins in return, wondering silently if the offer is odd because of your reaction. “I mean, why not, right?”

“Even if I’m not an employee here?” You question, still in disbelief at how simply he’d asked for even bits of collaborative work in the future. Where you have been learning to anticipate a lot of hesitation, and even flat out refusal from all of your interviews so far, Jeongguk breaks the cycle out of nowhere. Perhaps you should not be as excited from the simple prospect as you are, but you’re unable to stop yourself from the little success making you vibrant with joy.

“You don’t need to be an employee of any company, Y/N, your skills already speak for themselves to me.”

When you step outside of the building, Jeongguk’s words remain at the forefront of your mind. You type a location on the map digitally showing on your phone screen, unconsciously setting up a call for a taxi, but you think only of the small piece of hope given to you from the offer. The more you consider it, you believe there exists a deeper lesson from that small interaction. It’s like he said to you; the company isn’t as important as your own skills.

You bite your lip, thinking of any contacts made throughout the years. Frankly, not many people beyond SoundWave met you because of your job, but there were still some small acquaintances you’ve gained. Some friends as well, though fewer than you could count with your fingers perhaps. It’s unlikely many would jump at the opportunity to work with you in light of the current news, but perhaps there’s something to consider down that avenue.

Your spine tightens slightly, and suddenly you feel overly aware of the area around you. You lift your eyes from your phone screen to across the street beyond cars going along to wherever. People walk normally as the beginnings of evening traffic occur as they would any day of the business week. With a small shake of your head, you ignore the suspicion in your nerves, letting yourself check notifications on your phone instead as the taxi descends towards you from a few blocks away.

Alerting Yoongi that you’re going to head to his apartment to help him move around items delivered from the company, you eventually press the lock on your phone screen and turn your attention down the road to see if you can spot your taxi’s license. In the same direction is the stairwell into a subway station with its constant flood of people in and out that never remain in the area longer than it takes them to walk. But perched with their elbows on railings overlooking the descent into the subway is a small group of three similar in age to the ones assumed to follow you to Namjoon’s cafe.

Your eyes linger on their figures for a noticeable amount of time, and you don’t believe them to care that they’ve been spotted. You bite your inner cheek, and look back to the taxi app for the time of arrival. Your stomach knots, but you try not to focus on it, because of this occurrence being more regular in the past couple of weeks. If you kept your mouth shut and thoughts from roaming frantically, it would be over just as soon as you stepped into the taxi.

A bump on your shoulder startles you, shaking your heart around in the ribcage, as your throat assumes the worst by trapping air. A businessperson continues along, however, simply going up the road as they chatter away on their phone, completely unaware of the tiny collision. You swallow the air back down, squeezing your phone tightly as it vibrates a tiny series of beats to signify the taxi is soon to arrive.

As you look on at the back of the random person, you notice more eyes in your direction. These ones from a college-age duo, you think. But they’re clearly focused on you, walking on the sidewalk in your direction. Your leg muscle tightens, becoming highly alert of the phone’s they have clutched close to their chests with the camera lenses evident.

The abrupt stop of brakes in front of you brings you back to your current position as does a quick honk from a car bothered by the stop of your taxi as it drives around. Without hesitation you enter inside, stating an affirmative as the driver asks if you were the one with the given destination on his GPS. You can’t contain the sigh of relief flooding out of your lungs as he merges into the flow of traffic and away from the individuals whose walk stopped to stare at the leave of the taxi.

You have high doubts that if the people were truly fans that they would berate you or angrily yell, but nonetheless you didn’t want the onslaught of questions they more likely had prepared to be said in civil voices. You already had the displeasure of weaning along a forceful and awkward conversation on a subway train days earlier. Leading you to start avoiding that means of transportation entirely now.

Arriving at Yoongi’s front door, your finger presses to ring the bell. Listening to the muted sound on the inside you feel your shoulders jumping ever so slightly at the sound, but you shake your head to rid away the sensitivity. Really no one had been belligerent towards you, you were overthinking any of the things that could have happened. Another twitch in your shoulders induces with the knob twisting and with it the door opens to reveal Hoseok whose face eventually slips into a pout,

“Wow, don’t look so disappointed.” He teases you as you roll your eyes and walk inside. “You should be thanking me since I did most of the heavy lifting before you got here.”

“Thanks,” You smile at him in an overly polite manner that causes Hoseok to scoff and shake his head in amusement. “I’m sure you were more than willing to since Yoongi offered to get you a fancy dinner as payment-”

“Wait, don’t tell him that; I was going to avoid it.” You turn towards the way of the bedrooms as Yoongi walks into the living area from it, hair tousled from moving furniture and a loose t-shirt hanging off his shoulders comfortably. You watch him grin as Hoseok shouts an irritated rebuttle about Yoongi’s deflection of payment for helping. As Yoongi comes to a stop a mere couple of feet from you his eyes look towards you and before you know it the teeth peeking from his joke drift away while his brows furrowed with concern, “Angel, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to disburse the worry in your shoulders that you apparently had not been successful to not think about. Wordlessly Yoongi steps closer, initiating a hug that you finish by clinging your arms around his torso.

Hoseok frowns in confusion since you had seemed fine when he opened the door, but glancing up at Yoongi whose eyes are just as unsure of the problem Hoseok decides it’s probably the result of some kind of build up. “‘m going to get that last box unpacked.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi says as his hands rub trails on your back, waiting for Hoseok to leave the room before speaking up again, “Baby, do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m just overthinking something.” You mumble against the cotton soaked in the familiar scent of laundry detergent. With a small sigh you adjust yourself to look up towards Yoongi whose attentive gaze meets yours. Gently he presses a small kiss against your forehead, settling his hands on your sides to give a little comforting squeeze.

“Was it more people following you around?”

“Yeah,” You hide your face against his chest again as you put the problem in the air. “It really, really wasn’t anything much. I just want a hug. It’s been a long day because of the whole job interview session parade I went on too.”

“I can do hugs,” Yoongi nods before perching his chin atop your head. The moment lingers on, granting a warming comfort as you remain encapsulated in Yoongi’s arms. But he can’t help a final, quiet question that is likely the reason for the rate of his heartbeat in your ear. “Did anyone do anything to you, angel?”

“No.” You squeeze your arms around him. “I doubt any of them really would. They probably just want to get information. It’s just uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, it is.” Yoongi’s chest fills from the breath of an inhale as he thinks of all the other instances since news of him being let go from SoundWave released. “I’m sorry, angel, once all the paperwork is done, I’ll try and figure out something to say to the press about everything.”

“It’s okay, Yoon.” You pull away to press a pecking kiss against his lips. He notes your expression to be considerably calmer than minutes earlier. “Really, it’s okay. It’s not your fault anyways. But besides that all, I do have some good news.”

“Oh, yeah?” He keeps his hands on your waist while your arms drop from their gentle encapture of his frame. Your quick nod matching the beginnings of a smile on your lips give Yoongi more cheerfulness as well, “Tell me then, sweetie.”

“I saw Jeongguk earlier and he said he’d be willing to work on songwriting together sometime.” You explain, allowing the excitement you felt then to take over the bulk of your tone. Inquisitively Yoongi’s head tilts,

“Jeon Jeongguk? Where did you see him at?”

“His company after I got interviewed--oh, right, I don’t think I’ve mentioned to you I know him.” You ramble along earning a chuckle from Yoongi as he nods to that fact as well. “Well, I met him through Jimin a couple of years ago, but he’s really nice. It was just an innocent offer on his part.”

“Yeah, I believe that-- he’s really easygoing.” Yoongi nods, turning his head to the hallway as yours looks in the same direction at the sound of Hoseok cursing as he hops on one foot into view while his other foot stays clenched between his two hands.

“I hit my toe on the corner of the door into the room-” He says with a wincing voice, “Didn’t mean to interrupt the emotional fest-- it just really hurt, and I think I should be owed more than just a fancy dinner because of it-”

“If it keeps you from suing me.” Yoongi shakes his head and refrains from laughter like the kind leaving your mouth as you listen to their conversation. Yoongi goes back to resting his head on yours, this time pressing his cheek on top of your scalp when you hug him once more. “But I’m picking the place to eat at.”

“That doesn’t even make sense if it’s supposed to be a payment to me.” Hoseok scoffs as he dramatically hobbles to the couch where he collapses himself onto it. “Y/N, if you asked your best friend to help you move your heavy equipment and this same friend stubs his toe doing it-- and this best friend and you are also getting into a partnership, would you just give him a dinner as payment?”

“Partnership?” You repeat as your eyes narrow, honing in on the one word that slipped into Hoseok’s monologue. “And no I’d buy my friend at least a house.”

“See!”

“A house,” Yoongi murmurs through pouting lips as Hoseok claps his hands to your method of penance. “He already has a nicer apartment than mine-”

“Wait, what did you mean about a partnership, Hoseok?” You ask, poking Yoongi’s stomach to get him to quiet from the tickling sensation. Hoseok actively twiddles his thumbs instead of a verbal. He glances towards Yoongi who responds to his antics with a sigh as he tugs himself off the comfort of hugging you.

“He and I were thinking we’d start our own label.”

“What!” Your eyes grow wide glancing towards Hoseok then back to Yoongi. “Your own music label? Like an idol company too?”

“Well, yeah.” Yoongi says without a lot of conviction as he shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know how many people would actually want to become an idol through us, but at least for Hoseok and I it would be a good way to keep doing music. And on our own terms.”

You stand looking at him awestruck, not at all anticipating the two of them to come to this type of business plan for the future. Frankly, you weren’t sure at all what Yoongi intended to do without SoundWave, but you would have sooner assumed he would simply relocate to another company. The requests for him to do so would no doubt flock after a month or two of the current news becoming history.

“Hey,” Hoseok gets up from the couch, phone in hand as the two of you look over to him. “I’m meeting a friend in a while, so I’ll get out of here. Don’t forget that you owe me a really fancy meal-”

“I get it, I won’t.” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he follows Hoseok towards the front door to see him off. You simply watch, still in a stupor from their casual way of telling you that their idea is to create their own fucking company. You wave at Hoseok as he shouts out a goodbye to you and walks out the door. Yoongi turns towards you as it shuts with an electronic click, finding you still baffled by the news. He rubs the back of his neck as he returns towards you. “We sound crazy?”

“No,” You shake your head and let it tilt as your imagination takes over to see an outcome where the two of them operate a successful idol company. With their production skills and overall talent with music, it didn’t seem far fetched that they at least make a small company that runs well. “I think you both should do it.”

Yoongi smiles gently at the hopeful gleam in your eyes. His hand falls from toying with the small hairs on the back of his neck to find itself entangling your own appendage with a delicate hold. “You’re free to do anything you want, angel, but I was thinking--and Hoseok agreed-- that you could join us and be a producer if we make a company.”

“Me?” Your voice barely mumbles the response, eyes struck wide in surprise at his offer.

“You don’t have to at all--I really understand if you don’t want to take the risk of it instead of finding a place that’s already settled, but,” Yoongi bites his lip, fiddling with your hand as he holds it. He finds your eyes as he sweetly smiles “It can be an option for you.”

With the two happy surprises of the day swimming in your chest, you stand in a stunned quiet as you take them in. For Yoongi and Hoseok, despite their respective scandals, you don’t have any doubt that they could definitely make something out of this idea for themselves. Especially happy about Yoongi being able to do as he wants for himself if they start a company. He’d be completely in control of his representation in the way that he hasn’t had ever since his debut.

And his offer gives the same freedom for yourself to create songs like you’d always wanted as well.

“Of course, I’m sure there’s a lot we have to do to get everything going, so really don’t feel bad about saying no-”

Interrupting his sentence by pressing your lips onto his chattering mouth, You let your arms wrap around his neck, silently grateful for Yoongi's hands steadying the two of you by finding a firm grip on your hips. “I say yes.”

Anticipation and excitement ricochets throughout your chest, exuding outwardly in your smile that you find Yoongi quickly returning with a growing grin. Running his hips in lips trails along your sides, he keeps silent in favor of kissing you again, practically bruising your lips with his own. Your hands mesh into soft locks of black hair, keeping Yoongi held in place as the kiss deepens into an oxygen depriving attachment.

Allowing time for air only when your mouth gasps as Yoongi’s hands find your backside and with a squeeze pulls your waist against his own, your eyes open along with his as you both take in quick sips of air, momentarily frozen from continuing action. Yoongi’s jaw clenches shut as you very obviously allow your hips to grind friction. He watches the beginnings of a smirk take over your expression, and stops the teasing attitude to dip his lips down to your neck.

There his trails tiny molten kisses along the skin, searching until your fingertips curl against his scalp and a small whimper casts out of your mouth. Attaching to the spot, his mouth blisters in a garden meant to flourish red and purple by next sunrise, and his hands continue to press into your ass riding up the fabric of your skirt as a moan escapes your lips, “Yoongi-”

“Do you want me to stop, angel?” He asks with a rough timbre the contrasts the soft ministrations he trails from the love bite to reach your mouth once more. Kissing the outline of your jaw, he hums against the skin waiting for your reply which comes as your hands remove from his hair to cup his face and bring his lips back to yours,

“Not at all.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

also yes ik this chapter cuts off right before the smut lsjkdfkfdghg it’s also not going to be continued into the next chapter sO lkjdsffgdsfjkfg if it’s something you’d like to read as a blurb on its own lmk while commenting on this chapter hehe shameless incentive and i’ll try to write it as an additive piece to the story!

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​ @tsvkino-usagi​@xionysus​​ @baebyjoonie​ @honeyoongles​ @betysotelo18​

[portfoliostudio-chantellecalitz]

Blog Post #5B Refined Rationales

1. Project title

Tod Creek Craft Cider: The Barkley Series

2. The Challenge 

I redesigned an existing bottle of cider from Tod Creek Craft Cider in a package design class. $1 of each bottle sold is donated to an effort to clean the Barkley reef just off the coast of Vancouver Island. The original design was lacking interesting visuals that would compel a potential consumer to pick it up and examine the bottle. The cider was being sold in a liquor store so it needed to be visually appealing given the fact that most products sold in a liquor store have a very illustrative or interesting design. 

Tod Creek Craft Cider’s brand positioning is: “Premium cider with a west coast bite. Tod Creek Craft Cider is a small batch cider made of BC apples, crafted right here on Vancouver Island.” The goal was to create new labels with an elevated design and to expand the cider into a series.

3. The Approach

I wanted to lean into the idea of the cider being made locally on Vancouver Island. To make the one cider into a series, I updated the design of the existing flavour, apple and blackberry, and I chose fruit pairings native to the island to create two more flavours: apricot and cherry and fig and pear. 

Instead of drawing the reef itself, I focussed on an octopus holding the fruit that’s in the cider. In the thumbs, I was playing around with ocean themes and ways to combine them with the fruit pairings. Initially, I found that there was a disconnect happening because I, essentially, have two competing illustrative elements: the ocean and the fruit. I solved the problem by making the two elements interact with one another. The octopus will unify the series, and create diversification by posing in a different position for each flavour, holding different fruits.

4. What I did

I drew the octopi in Procreate and made their tentacles long enough so that they wrap around the bottle to encourage consumers to pick it up and turn it to read the description on the back that describes the reef clean up and fundraising process.

I kept the barcode from the original design because the shape of it is a great element on the back of the label, and I assigned a specific colour to each flavour while maintaining a cohesive colour palette throughout the series.

The final design was able to capture the playfulness that I wanted it to have, along with interesting illustrations that helped to communicate the tone that this cider needed to convey.

___________________________________

1. Project title 

The Fermented Moose

2. The Challenge 

I designed a brand identity for a UBrew that opened in 2020 in my hometown, Whitecourt, Alberta. The client needed a logo along with its variations, a business card, a punch card, and a social distancing marker. She wanted to base the logo off of a painting she had made that shows a moose walking away into the mountains with the northern lights above. The tone she wanted to create was a fun and educational experience and she wanted the brand to feel contemporary. Going through the process of learning to brew beer, wine or cider should be enjoyable. The client wanted to incorporate turquoise into the design and wanted the logo to be illustrated but not too cartoonish. 

3. The Approach 

With this design, I was able to illustrate a few moose and a fun graphic for the back of the business card. The client asked for turquoise to be present in the logo and I paired it with a bright yellow to add the feeling she wanted of joy and excitement. I adapted her painting into a logo by simplifying the image. I chose to focus on the mountains and the moose only.

4. What I did

I illustrated the moose and the mountains in Procreate. I chose to separate the two elements with a tilted square framing the landscape and the moose walking towards it to create movement and depth in the logo. I used a sans serif and the brand colours, yellow and turquoise, to make the identity feel modern. I designed two business cards. One had a graphic one the back of a beer and wine glass clinking and the other had six tiny moose heads that acted like a punch card.

___________________________________

1. Project title 

Portal magazine

2. The Challenge 

I am currently the graphic designer for Portal, the literary magazine for Vancouver Island University. I designed the 2019 and 2020 issues and the 2021 issue, Portal’s 30th anniversary issue. 

I work with the Portal team, the Creative Writing and Journalism third and fourth-year students. All VIU students are encouraged to submit their fiction, non-fiction, poetry, scripts, photography, paintings or illustrations. The student magazine department then decide which pieces will make it into the issue, and I design the magazines’ layout, posters for their fundraising events, ads for ad swaps with other literary magazines, programs and tickets. 

3. The Approach 

Since Portal works with graphic design students, the turnover is very high in that position as students graduate. Throughout the last three years at Portal, I've been working on ways to make their brand identity more cohesive. I've designed two logos for their yearly Portent competition and a reading series, Portfolio, that incorporate elements from their umbrella brand, Portal. I've also focused on keeping each new issue consistent with the last, using similar colours, typefaces and photo treatments. I've done the same with promotional material so that Portal can cement their identity in the readers' minds.

4. What I did

Using InDesign to design the cover and interior of Portal, I worked on ways to display the art in different ways. To make each layout interesting, I used feather gradients, colour overlays, images placed in object shapes with a mixture of full bleed, half bleed and no bleed compositions. This would also help to establish the tone of each piece.

 I also used colour to differentiate the genres. For example, non fiction is orange. This means that each non fiction peace has orange drop caps, text breaks, pull quotes, title, and page markers. 

[alimic0101-blog]

Blade Drone 720 Benefits and features

Blade 720 Drone provides novice users for experts. Right here are the wanted attributes of this modern technology

•This can be collapsible

This sophisticated drone 720 incorporates remarkable foldable propellers. Because of this, it is possible to bring it anywhere you enjoy without being concerned about the chance of transit.

•This is often handled via Android os, iOS, or Smart phone

You can possibly management this drone irrespective if you are using an google android run mobile phone or even an iOS. You just need to download the iphone app, set it up, and therefore the very last thing that you will work is to hook it up towards the Wi-Fi and after that beside your blade.

•Altitude Keep Mode

It is really an important function on this drone since it is effective at locking the size plus the drone’s place to ensure the user can steadily hover it on one location and take incredible video clips and photographs.

•Enhanced Flight Time

This excellent  blade 720 drone provide an awesome life of the battery as well. This drone is likewise regarded as amongst the speediest drone today, with twelve yards per secondly as well as its top rated array transmission of 2 kilometers.

•Anti-Collection Technology

Using its included detectors, it is possible to possibly steer clear of great and collisions on a lawn plus some challenges.

•Practical in addition to Minimal Layout

Its clever light-weight function building keeps collectively, providing extra convenience.

•Panorama Setting

Through the use of this drone 720, it is possible to acquire photos 360 degrees previously mentioned in a individual press on its button with the use of your mobile phone.

•Incredible Online video

The videos, in addition to the photographs that are taken employing this drone, can be found to be incredibly crystal clear and sharp.

•3D VR Function

As a way for you to use the drone, you can use its joystick as well as its VR kit.

Let us have more of the blade 720 advantages:

•Less trouble environment-up

•Easy and user-friendly regulates for easy flying

•Single-key for landing, taking off and coming back

•Battery permits the user to take flight for a greatest of ten mins

•Lithium electric battery features a huge capability which gives an extended period for soaring

•Comes along with Wi-Fi interconnection which supports in simple and easy , genuine-time info moving

•360 levels simple rolling

•Reduced and-speed method

•Light-weight characteristic causes it to be stronger in comparison with other people

Benefits of Using Blade Drone 720

The key great things about this specific drone are its cost, mobility, camera, and straightforward to use. This drone looks like a huge android mobile phone cell phone in proportions. It comes with foldable rotors therefore, you are able to surely hold the most-loved transportable drone. It is going to fit in your case or pocket. Anyone can use and travel this excellent drone. An individual doesn’t have to pay attention to its elevation, just get around and really like your flight! It can be indisputable that every drone demands a fantastic video camera. Therefore, this blade drone 720 provides an amazing image and also video clips.

As but, we haven’t helped bring up that the specific blade is designed with ABS plastic-type material. And also this exactly what makes it more powerful and lighter weight. Finally, its price is amazing. It is offered for just 1000 US $ $ $ $ without stressing about its reliability along with its quality. Having its cost-effective price, you may have your own personal extremely light in weight and foldable drone, which may make it through each mistreatment. This is definitely worth buying.

Blade Drone 720 Benefits & Downsides

Same goes with one other items out there, this drone also provides its benefits as well as its disadvantages. As a result, it is vital to find out its advantages as well as its drawbacks to suit your needs in order to have a obvious photo if this specific item is suitable for you. Let’s check out the advantages and disadvantages of blade drone 720.

Pros

•Cheap, efficient, and Dealing with is not hard

With the aid of this drone, you are going to surely keep your money by lessening the manpower and its gasoline cost. This drone gives a precise take a look at those locations that happen to be thought to be challenging to get to furthermore, it exceptional in monitoring, recovery quests without eating a higher amount of money. This drone 720 is considered to be an inexpensive and practical substitute for choppers due to the fact this drone can swiftly be flown.

•Amazing Taking photos

This blade drone 720 may help you in taking gorgeous, great, and instagrammable pictures. Competent photography lovers do uplift their occupation along with their business by investing in this kind of drone. Individuals video-make that are just commencing on the discipline also increase the value of their manufacturing with all the amazing aerial photos available from this blade drone 720.

•Fascinating to utilize

When you find yourself already familiarized with how to work it, you will possess entertaining plus an enjoyable expertise.

Disadvantages

•Personal privacy Intrusion

This is regarded as the principle problem according to the drone use because the end user can verify around and utilize this drone for trespassing homes. As a result, this could be frightening at the same time, upsetting.

•Mishaps or Accidents

This drone is vunerable to accidents. When you don’t get the right coaching along with the needed capabilities for producing this drone fly, you might lead to drone crash or collide, which might lead to striking an individual or wrecking possessions. You will even find reports about drones traveling near some potential wires or airports that posed hurt or incidents that may lead to serious traumas for people.

•Feasible Mishandling

Its pleasure along with its accessibility draw in enthusiasts, technical geeks, along with those that have illegal good reasons. Terrorists and crooks have realized methods to utilize this kind of device for his or her malicious pursuits.

•Damage

Regardless of whether the reason is good or bad, this drone may cause damage to people. There are actually situations wherein drones can be used for hauling radioactive fabric for people moving unlawful actions. If it is not governed, this technologies may play as being the primary for wrongdoers to dedicate criminal offense confident.

•International airport Threats

Ever since the blade drone is quite well-known amongst grown ups in addition to kids, it then will make a considerable hazard to international airports. This is not off of the defeated keep track of incidences, however impressive level disturbance which continuously has an effect on many flights a month. From the moment this blade collisions about the aircraft, this might result in a disastrous case.

Customer Thoughts and also Encounters

This company-new drone compatibly capabilities with the help of a mobile phone which is used when planning on taking gorgeous images as well as video tutorials. In addition to being utilized like a selfie drone, additionally it is popularly known as the fantastic toy. It really is easily run and maneuver, as mentioned on some blade drone 720 reviews offered around.

Skills and knowledge about drones are not needed. Even individuals who are not technician-knowledgeable individuals could quite possibly run the product. However, it is actually greatly wise to be careful to the current weather conditions before working this drone in the field. Because of its light feature, it is not necessarily preferable to have this drone to take flight when the rainwater is hefty, and you will find a solid wind.

•This drone is suitable for beginners. This doesn’t demand skills in drones. In comparison to other people, it is a little bit sturdier- that is, based on Andrea Harnum, who bought this system as a Christmas gift idea for males in the very early fifties and 2 teens. They already have stated some good thoughts about this drone. When you will purchase, make sure you permit enough delivery service time, especially if you will have this as being a gift item.

•As outlined by Bod, this drone is excellent. Your pals will really be surprised by its camera image resolution. It can do providing beautiful video clips and images.

•Based on David Frocione, he will unquestionably acquire more of this product. What he likes most is the integrity and honesty in terms of this drone.

Several folks who got used this drone are content, delighted, along with pleased with their practical experience. Any other way, quite a few users struggle to position excellently up above, specially you will discover a solid wind flow. This only signifies that in the event you wished to navigate it properly, you should have some needed training in managing this drone. Many folks are asked to make themselves familiar with the rules and regulations in drones traveling by air in the discipline, otherwise the left arm of the legislation can potentially confiscate this drone. Be conscious that soaring drones nearby the air-port or helipad and power cable must be averted to ensure that one to avoid accidents.

Just what is the Price of Blade Drone 720?

It is possible to individual this drone for just 199.99 $ $ $ $. However, if you will endeavour to get it looking at the official internet site, you may get for a wide range of charge. Big discounts are now being provided by the drone firm including buying two models will entitle you to have one drone for free, buying three devices will entitle you for 2 totally free drones. Therefore, this gets to be very advantageous for some households who consider flying drones like a past time as well as for household bonding. Yet another good thing about acquiring the product is definitely the free delivery campaign. Therefore, you will need to seize the ability to hop at blade drone 720 advantages.

Occasionally, this blade 720 exists with managing a promotion. In some places, it is possible to absolutely have yourself this Blade 720 given that some producers provide a 50 % discounted. And with regards to web marketers, additionally, they provide free delivery, which means that it can actually help all those those who have a tight spending budget. This system if offered on the internet, of course, if you lookup its major web site, you will have the ability to obtain a drone with the best and cost.

Verdict

This product is created to satisfy users’ demands in addition to calls for. Having its functions, such as awesome stability mainly because it flies, 720HD camera and vast lens, manageable regulates for quick flying, you will end up amazed at its low price. In acquiring any item, it is anticipated that purchasers will use a next seriously considered obtaining the product. Customers will surely request and question in case the product is worth purchasing or otherwise not.

When it comes to blade drone 720, the correct answer is definitely indeed! You may just think of the gorgeous and incredible video lessons and images that you’ll be able to have with the use of this blade drone 720. It’s not just about taking photos and consuming video lessons but more on the enthusiasm and enjoyable it offers for users.

Haven’t you experimented with traveling by air a drone? This is the proper time for you to have got a attempt! Hurry up and practical experience and enjoy the great top quality shots for the treasured images, for the video tutorials, and in many cases for your personal live source adventures.

[emperorsfoot]

Adora and Bow make it to Dryl and discover something they did not expect. 

Making it up to the Castle of Dryl was way, way easier on flying horse back!

They didn’t have to traverse narrow mountain paths, or risk giving away their position with loud magical transformation, or use First Ones legendary Runeswords to clear away rock slides in their path. No. On the back of Swift Wind, they just flew right on up to the castle. Easy as you please.

They didn’t go directly-directly up to the castle, of course. It was still under Horde control, after all. Not disorganized and confused Horde Remnant control. Cohesive, disciplined, consistent Horde control. The walls held sentries. Regular patrols toured the paths and trails around the castle. Someone would notice a bright, rainbow winged horse land in the courtyard. They were indoctrinated soldiers, they weren’t blind or stupid.

Swift Wind brought them down above the castle. On the slope that hung slightly above its tallest spire. Adora and Bow dismounted and crouched low to the ground. Crawling on their bellies, they slunk up to the edge of the cliff to peer down at the castle.

Sure enough, Dryl was still flying Horde banners. Green on green instead of the usual red on red, or red on black. The sentries on the walls wore full armor, straight postures, alert. There was no slouch in them to indicate a decline in moral. Just looking at the soldiers occupying Dryl, one would think the Horde was never defeated at all.

That was confirmation enough for Adora and Bow that Hordak was, indeed, in residence at Dryl.

After the debacle with the portal, Entrapta brought Hordak back to her own castle to regroup after their defeat.

Adora remembered seeing him just before Catra pulled the switch. She didn’t think it significant at the time, after all, she was trying to stop the end of the world. But he had made some very distinct changes to his costume. The dark Lord that she couldn’t remember changing his look in all the years she’d lived in the Fright Zone had dropped the cape. Replacing it with some kind of armored frame. And front and center on that armored frame was a First Ones crystal. Adora didn’t know if the crystal served some kind of practical purpose in the armor, as a power source, possible, or whatever. But the word in First Ones writing that was inscribed on the crystal was very jarring.

It was entirely possible that Hordak couldn’t read First Ones writing. After all, there were not very many people in Etheria who could. In fact, aside from Adora herself, she’d only met two others capable of reading First Ones interlocking, sigil-like letters. One was Bow’s father, Lance, and… Entrapta. Entrapta had to know what the word inscribed on the collar of Hordak’s new shoulder armor said. She might even have been the one to put it there herself.

‘Luvd’. Loved.

Entrapta and Hordak might very well be lovers.

If they were, it made perfect sense that she would take her lover back to her own Queendom and stronghold after his defeat.

But they still needed to get inside for real confirmation.

For all Adora knew, it was Catra and Scorpia instead. For all Adora knew, after the defeat in the Sanctum, Catra could have staged a coup and taken over what was left of the Horde from Hordak and installed herself as Lady of the Horde. Moving the base of operation to Dryl so that Entrapta –who said Catra was her best friend according to the data- could build more weapons for her.

“I need to get inside.” Adora whispered to Bow and Swift Wind. She had to know. She had to know if it was Catra.

“Don’t forget, it’s a maze in there.” Bow reminded her.

Adora just shook her head. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’ll never know what’s actually going on in there if we just stay out here.”

…

A strap of their overalls slipped down off one shoulder as Dak ran through the dimply lit corridors of the castle. They were trying to keep pace with their quarry.

Imp was making it harder for Dak to catch him. The tiny deamon wasn’t just finding a high perch and waiting for the young hybrid to figure out how to get to him anymore. Now their hunting games had evolved into actual hunting. Hide and Seek. Chase and Tag. Games that developed the small Horde clone’s reflexes and agility. Games that taught the small Horde clone how to think quickly and adaptively, how to solve problems on the fly, and seek solutions around obstacles.

Usually, these lessons were programed into Horde clones during gestation. By the time normal Horde clones were hatched from the tanks, they resembled the physical age of an adult in their early twenties. It was too late by then to use childish hunting games to instill these values and instincts. They were programmed at an early stage of gestation, then reinforced with physical training and conditioning after hatching instead.

Before the degradation that plagued master first manifested, Hordak –Hordak senior- was an excellent hunter and warrior. Who excelled at tracking and cornering prey.

He was an enviable warrior too.

All Horde were trained in all weapons. But Hordak favored the force-pike, and the bow-staff. Melee weapons capable of parrying multiple opponents at once, while also offering a longer range than a more traditional sword –that was the favored weapon of the average soldier, or the more aesthetic and symmetrical shock-batons that Hordwing (another member of the cabinet) favored.

Imp had absolutely no idea how he was going to drill master’s heir in weapons. He was already operating far outside his programed parameters as a deamon-class android indentured to the Imperial Horde cabinet. Deamon were not programmed with archaic childrens games in their databanks and they were not physically designed to teach combat.

But Imp had been Hode’s deamon before he was Hordak’s.

Hode was a member of the Imperial cabinet, and he was eccentric. All members of the Imperial Horde cabinet were a little eccentric. It seemed to be a quirk of high preforming soldiers. Only the best could be elevated to leadership positions directly under the Emperor, and it seemed to be a symptom of the best to also be a little weird. Hode’s weirdness manifested in a strange appreciation for history and art that bordered on fixation.

The Horde, as a species, did not crawl out of the primordial ooze with a cloning tank strapped to its back. There must have been a time before the cloning tanks when the Horde procreated through more natural means. When Horde hatched from eggs instead of tanks. When Horde had to grow slowly over the years, learning with every experience as more natural organisms did. Hode went out of his way to discover the forgotten history of the Horde. Literally, going out of his way, to the planet Revena at the very heart of the Empire.

All that he learned was saved to Imp’s memory banks. The old cabinet Lord had to install surplus memory in Imp to house it all and keep the deamon from crashing. Of all the deamon-class androids in use within the Empire, Imp was probably the most modified and most utilized beyond his original purpose.

Imp never imagined he would actually find a use for any of the data Hode added to him. He always just thought it was the old Lord hoarding information like the information hoarder he was.

Imp turned his attention back to his charge. To master’s heir. A Horde hatched from its cloning tank prior to the age of adulthood. Without any programing or education. They were the closest thing to a ‘naturally hatched’ Horde in several generations. Easily since Revena was deemed inhospitable.

Dak was distracted and no longer running after Imp.

This happened periodically. As much as Dak was master’s clone, they were also the Princess’ clone, and Imp noticed very early on that the Princess’ mind did not think in straight lines. She was easily distracted, her attention shifting focus –complete focus- to whatever new, interesting thing piqued her curiosity.

In this case, it appeared to be a portrait on the wall.

Imp paused in his flying, and fluttered over to perch on top of the painting’s frame. He chittered down at the young Horde clone, demanding they return to the training game. Dak would never become a strong and capable warrior if they neglected lessons that all other Horde clones already came pre-programmed with.

Dak glanced up at him, flashing those eyes that were the wrong color. A luminescent fuchsia instead of the neon glow of primary-red. Then the hybrid went back to studying the painting Imp was perched on. Frustrated, the little deamon fluttered down to land on Dak’s shoulders and see what was so much more important than their training.

It was an image of master’s Princess, Entrapta. Posing with two robots flanking her on either side. Entrapta in the foreground and the bots slightly behind. Imp didn’t see what was so fascinating. It was just Entrapta. Imp had seen Entrapta hundreds of times. Towards the end there, both she and Hordak practically lived in the lab. Cohabitating in a way that deviated from what was average for Horde clones.

“Mother.” Dak informed the deamon, pointing at the picture as if there might be some confusion as to what held their attention.

The hybrid had been expanding their vocabulary by the day, even forming simple sentences. But more than that, Dak was also developing more complicated thought. Becoming curious. About the castle, about the people around them, and about themself. The castle staff that seemed to have appointed themselves additional instructors for master’s heir in the fields of language, manners and etiquette, how to eat, how to dress themselves, and how to comport one’s self as the heir to an Etherian Queendom also spent a great deal of time telling master’s heir about the other half of their genetic template. About their ‘mother’.

‘Mother’ was an Etherian word. Imp couldn’t say that it was an Etherian concept because it was not unique to Etheria. Many races the universe over had a concept of ‘mothers’ and ‘fathers’. Of assigning different names to the genetic templates that formed an individual’s creation. There was no word of equivalent meaning in the Horde language, or if there had been, it was lost to time and disuse through the generations of cloning. Horde did not have parents. They were all siblings. All brothers reproduced from the same model.

All except master’s heir.

“Sc’pya-“ Dak cleared their throat to try again. It had been a couple days since they’d seen Scorpia, but their speaking ability had improved a lot in that time. They did not have to mangle her name anymore. “Scorpia left to find her. Why?”

Imp offered a non-committal shrug. He didn’t care about the actions of beings that didn’t directly affect his master or their goals and mission. The Etherian Force Captain felt somehow responsible for the Princess being sent away, to spite the fact that she was not the one to strike the blow or give the order. Imp would never understand organic beings outside the Horde.

“Baker says I need her.” Dak continued, looking at the painting in the same way one might look at a previously undiscovered creature. With curiosity, a lack of understanding, and a desire to study and become familiar with. Actually, what Baker said was that ‘all children needed their mothers’, and Dak was one of ‘all children’. So, the conclusion was the same even if the words were different. “Do I need a mother?”

Imp searched through his saved auditory files until he found the one syllable negative he needed to answer that question. It was Hordak’s voice that came from his mouth when he opened it to play, “No.”

“Oh.” Did the young clone sound disappointed when they said that? “Okay.”

Imp frowned. Master’s heir seemed to accept the answer, but not believe it. He searched his auditory banks for a larger sound file that might give a better explanation for the young clone. He found an old recoding he didn’t even know was still in his memory drives. “The Horde value strength above all else, Zero-Zero-Three.” A skip in the track. “You are not strong if you require my help to conceal your condition. You cannot rely on other people.” Imp replayed the last line to make sure master’s heir understood the important part. “You cannot rely on other people.”

“Oh.” Dak said again. There was a pregnant pause in which the young clone just stood there, thinking. Processing the information Imp just shared. Then their lips pulled back, white-colored fangs showing in a puckish grin. “Then that means I don’t need you to help me get into the locked room.”

Dak shrugged Imp off their shoulders and dashed off down the corridor in the opposite direction they’d originally come.

Imp was left to flap in frustration.

The Locked Room, was a door in Castle Dryl that no one could open. There was a keypad on the side, presumably that unlocked it and opened the door. But no one knew the combination. There was, however, a small panel at floor level that could be passed through. Dak had seen robots go in and out of it, carrying empty trays on a consistent schedule. Some sort of automated delivery system that no one bothered to turn off. Either that, or there was someone in the Locked Room that needed an empty tray brought to them three times a day. Dak didn’t know, but they wanted to know!

It was only the little hybrid’s second day in the castle when they noticed the phenomenon. They were still getting used to navigating the confusing and maze-like corridors of Dryl when Dak saw a little robot that was smaller than they were carrying an empty tray on its head. Curious, Dak followed it. Through twists and turns, down corridors and up ramps. Until the little bot disappeared through a small panel at floor level sized exactly for it that slid out of the way. The bot exited the hatch a few moments later, still carrying its empty tray. Dak followed it again, this time ending its journey through the castle in the kitchens.

When Dak asked Busgirl about the bot and the Locked Room, all she told them was that the Princess –their mother- never planned to get captured in the Fright Zone and so never turned off her automated serving bots. No one else in the castle knew how, so the bot just kept going through the motions of its programed task.

Which meant that whatever was inside the Locked Room was directly related to Dak’s mother. They wanted inside that room. They wanted to know. It was a desire for answers that went beyond just standard curiosity.

Dak asked Imp to go through the hatch and unlock the room from the inside. The little deamon was about the same size as the bot and should have no problem fitting through the small opening. But Imp flat out refused. So, Dak was left to come up with their own creative solution.

They navigated the corridors of Dryl until they came to an exit that lead outside. Dak was several floors up from their destination, but the height wasn’t much of a barrier for them.

Climbing onto the walkway ledge, Dak leaned forward, wrapping their hair around the flagpole of one of the Horde banners that were raised all over the castle. Using their hair as a rope, the little hybrid swung themself from the walkway to the pole. Hugging it koala-style to keep from falling. Then slid down the pole, using their hair to control the speed of their decent until they reached the courtyard where the soldiers patrolled and practiced daily marching and combat drills.

In the courtyard, off to one side, shoved in a corner, close to where the castled wall joined into the very living rock of the cliffs, was the makeshift hanger where the Horde parked and stored their vehicles. It was also where they stored their tools for repairing and maintaining the vehicles. It was the tools Dak was after.

“Who goes there!?” A soldier snapped, hearing the noise of the little hybrid grabbing whatever looked useful and shoving them in the pockets of their overalls.

“Hi.” Dak straightened and turned around, hands full of tools that were almost too big for their child-sized hands to hold. They curled the tail of their hair to pantomime a thumb and pointed at themself. “I’m Hordak!”

The soldier came up short, recognizing the ‘intruder’ as their Lord’s heir. She lowered her weapon, at a bit of a loss as to what to do. Was the Little Lord allowed to play with real mechanics’ tools? Should she stop them? Or would that be hindering some part of the Lord’s personal projects. The average Horde soldier did not know much about what was and was not appropriate for children.

“Bye.” The little hybrid brushed past the soldier, their pockets and arms full of raided tools. Dak pantomimed waving good-bye with their hair was they exited the hanger.

The poor soldier was left just blinking at the Little Lord’s retreating back.

A few minutes later, when the same soldier hear more noises sneaking through the hanger, she assumed it was Hordak’s heir again and ignored it. Perhaps if she had checked on the second round of noises, she would have recognized the defector former-Force Captain Adora and one of her rebel conspirators, Bow. But the guard did not check, and the intruders were allowed to slip into the castle unnoticed.

Arms and pockets full of tools, Dak marched purposefully through the corridors. As if they were confident in where they were going.

They were confident. But they still got lost twice on the way to the Locked Room. They had gotten very familiar with the labyrinthine twists and turns –for the most part. But every now and again, when they exited out one way, and came back in another, they got confused on which way to take to get to where they wanted to go.

It took a couple tries, but Dak finally found the Locked Room again.

They dumped all the tools in their arms on the floor and took out the tools in their pockets. Keeling down, using both hands and their hair, Dak arranged all the tool carefully next to the panel hatch. Organizing them by shape since they didn’t actually know what half of them did.

Turning their attention back to the hatch, Dak examined the opening. Deciding what they actually had to do in order to get inside the Locked Room. The panel had a seal around it. A metal trim that was fastened on by screws with hexagonal indents. Dak didn’t know the names of everything he’d taken with him, but they could see what fit with what. Selecting an allan wrench and began twisting the bolts. Just loosening them at first, then taking them out all together. Finally, the metal seal was able to be pulled off.

The sliding panel of the hatch fell away almost the moment the seal was off and Dak smiled. Their hair curling and twisting with excitement. They were going to get into the Locked Room, and they didn’t even need Imp’s help after all!

Maybe the deamon was right. Horde didn’t need help!

Dak tried crawling through the space that was made bigger by the removal of the seal and panel.

…And got immediately stuck.

They made a sound of distress. A loud, shrill, feral sound that came from the back of their throat. More like a predator caught in the claw-trap than a startled child struggling in a tight spot they put themselves in.

Maybe Imp was wrong. Maybe Horde did need help.

“Do you hear that?”

Dak’s pointed ears twitched. They paused in their panicked keening to listen. It sounded like other people in the corridor. A guard patrol maybe? Dak rarely saw soldiers actually inside the castle. They were intimidated by the winding maze of corridors. Preferring instead to construct their own field barracks in the courtyard.

“It sounded like a wounded animal.” Replied a second voice.

There was a pause.

“You don’t think… you don’t think Entrapta’s testing on animals, do you?” They sounded so concerned.

Dak could hear footsteps now. Two pairs of boots. They must have just turned a corner.

Then one of them gasped. “Is that a kid!?”

“Are they hurt?” Asked the other.

“Not hurt!” Dak shouted, trying to turn their head but having trouble. “Just stuck!”

“Hang one.” Commanded one of the speakers. A gentle masculine voice, full of soft empathy and soothing sensitive tones. “We’ll get you out.”

“No!” Dak snapped. They were finally getting inside the Locked Room. They were not going to give up and let themself he dragged out by soldiers who didn’t know any better. “I want in!”

There was a silent pause from the two on the corridor side.

Then the one with the gentle masculine voice noted, “This is Entrapta’s lab.”

There was a second silent pause.

Then the second one, female, business-like, more militaristic, asked, “Kid, if we get you in the lab, can you unlock the door and let us in too?”

“Yeah.” Dak promised.

“Okay. Bow, help me push.” The female commanded.

“But what if they get hurt?” Asked the male.

“We need to know.” The other reminded him. “Kid, we’re gonna push you from this side. Let us know if we’re hurting you.”

Dak felt hands on their feet, pushing them from the outside. Lifting their head, Dak cast their eyes around for something close enough to grab to pull themself from the inside.

The Locked Room was not what Dak was expecting. It was dimly lit, dimmer than the rest of the castle which was already fairly dim. But Dak’s eyes adjusted quickly, the bioluminescent fuchsia sclera glowing brighter as the hybrid’s body registered the need to compensate for their environment.

The far wall of the Locked Room was one large computer array. A massive monitor screen in the center, surrounded by several smaller screens. All of them currently asleep, the resting screen saver bouncing around their frames. There were several parts of machines arranged along the walls. Some suspended from the ceiling. Some supported in frames. Some just lying on the floor. The closest one set in a frame that was bolted down firmly was just barely close enough for Dak to grab with their hair.

Craning their neck, Dak stretched their blue mohawk of hair to wrap around a protruding segment of broken cam shaft.

Between the two pushing them on the outside, and Dak pulling themself on the inside, the little hybrid managed to get through the tiny robot hatch. …and the only damage was that their overalls ripped a little bit. That one strap that was slipping down their shoulder earlier breaking entirely. It hung limply down their front, making their appearance asymmetrical and making them look sloppy.

Finally inside the Locked Room, Dak stood. Looking around in all directions. Lifting their head, turning three-hundred and sixty degrees to try and see everything at once.

The tow that were still outside banged on the main door. “Hey, Kid, let us in. Remember. Are you okay in there? Kid?”

It took effort for Dak to pry their eyes away from all the interesting things the Locked Room held. They wanted to snoop through it all. But the two on the other side of the door were so insistent. And Dak had said that they would let them in once inside. Dak reached with their hair to hit the door release button.

The door slid open and Dak actually saw their helpers for the first time. A man and a woman. They were not wearing Horde soldier uniforms, but that could just mean they were off duty. Dak had only been at the castle for a few days and hadn’t met everyone yet. The woman was tall, blond haired, and blue eyed. Wearing a red jacket with big shoulder pads, the golden hilt of a sword just visible over one shoulder. The man was shorter than her, dark skinned, dark haired, and dark eyed. He had an open and friendly face that made Dak think they might be fun to hang out with.

Both of them froze the moment they saw Dak.

Expressions shifting from cautiously hopeful to downright shocked. They both looked down at Dak, their eyes wide and mouths slightly open. What? Was there something on their face? Was the hybrid dirty from squeezing through the hatch? Dak brushed their clothes off, tried righting the ripped strap of their overalls, then gave up when it just fell back down again.

They looked back up at the still shock-faced strangers and smiled. Flashing their sharper-than-sharp white teeth. “Hi. I’m Hordak.”

The two just continued to stare at them.

“Uh- uh- Adora…?” Began the dark, friendly-faced one.

“Yeah, Bow?” Answered the tall blond with the sword.

“Are you… seeing the same thing I’m seeing?” His voice cracked on that last word. As if he were suddenly and inexplicably so nervous his throat was closing from a level of shock that triggered a physiological panic.

A child that looked to be around the age of ten. Pale skinned, pointy eared, glowing-eyed, with a long blue mohawk going all the way down to their feet. Wearing dark navy overalls, over a burgundy t-shirt that looked just a size too large for them.

“Are you seeing a kid-version of Hordak?” Asked the woman –Adora.

“I’m Hordak!” Dak repeated, suddenly becoming frustrated with the pair.

“Okay.” The man –Bow- sounded like he might break down into tears. “Just making sure.”

The two just went back to staring.

Dak became impatient. “Locked Room’s open.” They pointed with the hair. The long tail of blue making a wide sweep of the room. “You wanted in too, right?”

If it was even possible, Bow and Adora’s eyes went even wider upon seeing the child-Hordak’s hair moved and shift more like an extra limb than actual hair. Prehensile hair. Like Entrapta’s.

They each made odd croaking sounds. Mere words not being able to express the sheer mind-freezing shock they felt.

Bow seemed to recover first. Following Dak into the lab, watching as the hybrid’s hair moved as they moved. Not like it was just hanging from their hair, but swinging like a person’s arms swing when they walk. Hordak’s face and Hordak’s body, but with Entrapta’s Princess power. A combination of Hordak and Entrapta.

“How- how old are you?” Bow managed to croak out. The kid looked to be a decade old. Ten years. But that couldn’t be right! There was no way Entrapta and Hordak knew each other back then. Entrapta was only left behind in the Fright Zone barely a year ago.

Hearts in their throats, both Bow and Adora watched the hybrid count on their taloned fingers. Then the child turned to them, holding up six fingers. “This many.”

“Six years?” Adora echoed, disbelieving. “You’re six years old?”

Adora wasn’t sure which part of that seemed more wrong to her. The part where a six-year-old looked like a ten-year-old. Or the part where it implied that Entrapta and Hordak had been lovers since long before she joined the Princess Alliance. Was Entrapta even ever on their side at all? Or had she always been a spy for her lover? Her lover and the father of her child.

The hybrid blinked at them, as if not understanding why they weren’t understanding. “Six days.”

“I’m just gonna sit down…” Bow rested his weight on the closest object in the lab that looked like it could both support him, and wasn’t about to spring to life and attack him for sitting on it.

“You can’t be only days old!” Adora tried to argue. She liked it better when she thought they were six years, it made more sense. “You’re, like, ten!”

They frowned at her. “I’m six days and three quarters.”

Bow drew in a breath, steadying his nerves and regathering his senses. “Now, when you say you’re Hordak…?” He trailed off, not actually sure how he meant to finish that question.

“I’m Hordak.” Repeated the hybrid.

“Okay.” Bow just leaned back against the deactivated console and listing robot he was sitting on. It seemed like the world wasn’t making sense at the moment. He decided to just roll with it and wondered if this was what going mad felt like.

Adora cleared her throat. “Um, how? Exactly. Are you Hordak?”

“Sc’pya said that I’m-“ They were cut off when Imp flew into the room. Finally navigating his way through the castle to the Locked Room and finding the door open.

Imp screeched loudly upon recognizing the defector Adora and the rebel Bow, with master’s heir. The little deamon went instantly on the offensive to protect master’s heir. Sounding an alarm as it attacked.

Teeth bared. Fangs exposed. Hand out with talons extended. Imp went for Adora first. As She-Ra, she was the most dangerous. Wings flapping madly, the little deamon clawed at the former-Force Captain. The whole lab filling with his shrill screeches, almost as loud as the intruder alarm that was now blaring through the halls.

“Imp, no!” Dak shouted at the deamon.

But the creature just screeched in response. These were master’s enemies! He could not allow master’s enemies to get a hold of master’s heir!

“Get it off!” Adora tried batting the deamon away with one arm while the other reached over her shoulder for the Sword of Protection to protect her from the tiny creature.

Bow jumped off the console he had been sitting on. He notched an arrow, then thought better up it since the target was small, moving frantically, and directly in front of Adora. He un-notched the arrow and put his bow away, using the trick arrow to swat at the deamon instead.

Imp turned his face to the archer, caught the swatting arrow in his mouth and bit down and on the thing intending to break it. The trick arrow point burst in the deamon’s mouth, covering the creature’s face in thick, viscous, concussive foam. Imp forgot about Adora and instead started clawing at its face to free itself. Spitting and scraping at the foam to try and free his optic sensors and mouth. The deamon shrieked some more, but it came out in muted gurgles.

The deamon fell to the ground, struggling frantically.

“Imp!” Dak went to their knees next to the deamon, using both hands and hair to help the creature free itself from the trick substance.

Adora and Bow just stood there, watching the child try and help the little winged gremlin as if it were a dear pet, or close friend and companion.

That was about the time the corridor outside filled with soldiers in full armor.

“Don’t move!” Barked one soldier, presumably the leader. “Put your hands up and step away from Lord Hordak!”

It was not the wisest thing to do, but Adora snorted. “Which is it? Do you want us to step away, or do you want us to not move?”

The soldier thumbed the safety off on her weapon. “Don’t get cute with me, rebel.”

Finally succeeding in getting the foam off his face, Imp grabbed Dak by the hand and pulled the little hybrid away from the intruders. Placing the child behind the protection of the ranks of Horde soldiers –whom closed in around the heir.

With few other options, both Bow and Adora put their hands up in defeat.

At least they discovered who the ‘Hordak’ that was rumored have taken up residence in Castle Dryl.

[ducksanta]

Freefall

Summary: Della discovers Duck Avenger’s true identity and confronts him. Comicsverse

for @callme--starchild (sorry for taking this long)

Word Count: 1500

Once she had somewhat settled in, Della Duck had gone into research mode. She had lot of catching up to do. She had after all lost 10 years in the time she had been in space. She would spend the days when her sons were at school reading and going through the Internet. Absorbing everything she could.

Donald popped his head into the guest bedroom she was staying in. ”Do you need anything?”

Della bristled at the tone. Something about it, like she was fragile-

”It's fine. I am just going through the old news. Gonna get caught up. Then get a job. Move out of your way.”

”No hurry.”

”Hm.”

Donald yawned. ”I should head off. I'm exhausted.”

And Della was left alone. Absentmindedly she leafed through the old newspapers. Duckburg had sure gone through lot of things while she had been gone. Calamities. Superheroes. Duckburg had always had its fair share of odd events but it felt like everything had just ramped up when she hadn't been there. Ten years. In what had felt like a week to her...

Some people kept popping up in these news. Uncle Scrooge, of course. Occasionally she'd spot Donald or Fethry or her sons on the background of some pictures.

And there were others.

Gyro.

Rockerduck (who was either a family friend or an enemy she couldn't tell yet)

Weird people, like a supposed witch called Magica or the Duck Avenger...

Della stopped. It couldn't be true. Her fingers traced over the grainy image of the superhero.

Donald Duck's friend.

She looked over her notes.

The superhero who had started his career taking revenge on Uncle Scrooge...

But it was impossible! So obvious but impossible!

She immediately felt guilty over thinking so. She knew her brother was courageous. And a good man.

Better than she was, in so many ways...

But a superhero?

She let out a laugh.

Nonsense.

But it made sense.

But surely someone would have noticed by now? He kept wearing the same hat!

Maybe they did, but no one had told her. Maybe they thought it would shock her. Maybe it was a one big joke where everyone knew but pretended not to and hadn't gotten around to letting her in on it yet.

But how did he get these gadgets?

Gyro. Of course. That much was clear. In fact even if it wasn't Donald it might be the most likely source of this superhero technology.

Della sat there, wondering about it.

First things first. She'd have to be sure.

…

”Donald?” Gyro looked up from his work. ”He hasn't been around in days.”

”I see,” Della nodded. Awkwardly she looked around the workshop. She had known about Gyro before leaving. He had been the weird kid hanging out in his father's workshop.

He had come a long way...

He smiled again, in that awkward way Della had gotten so used to ever since she got back.

It was like no one knew how to deal with her.

For her things had stayed the same. Everyone else had moved on.

Ten years.

Ten years had been stolen from her.

Her sons had grown, and her baby brother was now older than her.

She had been left behind.

And no one would look her in the eye.

…

Once Della had been sure her brother was the Duck Avenger it was relatively easy to figure the rest of it out. She knew the times Duck Avenger would be patrolling, so it was just the matter of keeping an eye on her brother. So if he was indeed Duck Avenger he'd have to be able to change in his room.

So for the first night Della had camped outside his window.

And nothing had happened.

Next morning she had checked the Internet and sure enough, Duck Avenger had been seen getting someone's cat from a tree.

She had wondered for a moment if she was wrong.

Maybe.

But she wasn't convinced just yet.

So the next night she had knocked on Donald's door at 4 am.

She could hear him snoring...

Eventually she forced the door open and stepped inside.

Her brother was deep asleep.

Wait-

She pulled away the covers. A fake head.

So now she was sure.

Della started her search of the room. There were not too many places that could hold a secret door so her attention was quickly drawn to the closet...

She ran her fingers on the wood paneling and detected a part that was slightly elevated.

She pushed.

The closet plunged downwards.

Della staggered out of the disguised elevator and into a small base with masks and gadgets...

And the Duck Avenger.

Della stood straight and said with the tone she had been practicing a lot lately. Self confident. Mature. ”Donald Duck.”

The masked duck looked at her. ”I don't know what you're talking about.”

He didn't sound like him.

He stood straighter, and was so much more than her brother... Donald always seemed like he was either at the edge of exhaustion or too full of energy. The duck in front of her was so much more...

Competent.

Suddenly she could see why no one had believed the two to be the same person.

But she recognized him.

She recognized her little brother who had played pirates with her as a child, striking a pose like that as he pulled out his sword, ready to face Pirate Queen Della, the Dread Lord of at least Eight Seas.

”Come on, bro, how dumb you think I am?”

To her surprise he removed the mask. He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

”This is cool, dude!” Della gestured at the secret base. ”This is like- remember the old well at Grandma's farm?”

When he didn't reply she continued.

”You know, it was all dried up and overgrown, so we dug it out and made a secret base there-”

”And one time the rope snapped.”

”It was fine- we got out- There was enough vines to climb up-”

”No it was not fine,” Donald snapped.

Della nodded. ”I see.”

”What do you see?”

”I see that when you do this- this kind of a childish- childish mistake it's fine, but when I do it- when I make a mistake it's- no one will talk to me about it! Everyone says they're happy to have me back but no one really looks me in the eye!”

”I have no idea what you are talking about.”

”Yes you do! You always knew, we are- we used to be close.”

A silence fell.

Della decided to keep pushing. She didn't recognize this calm and collected man in front of her. If she got him to yell at her-

She would know how to deal with that.

”How could you do this?”

”Della...”

”How could you put yourself at risk? I know what you were doing! I- when I started to suspect you were the Duck Avenger I studied! I looked up things! You have gotten involved with so many dangerous things- How could you!”

”Della, don't- don't say things we will both regret.”

”Stop pretending to be the adult here! I am not the one dressed like batman! How could you- What if something happened to you? What if you died? The boys would be all alone!”

He gritted his teeth.

But still he didn't take the easy bait.

”I think we should go and get something to eat, calm down, sleep on this-”

”SAY SOMETHING!”

”What do I have to say?” For the first time there was anger in his voice.

Della watched him pull his mask back on.

”What would make you happy?” he asked.

”This isn't about me! This is about you running around playing a super hero like a child.”

”You know nothing about what I do,” Duck Avenger informed her.

She didn't recognize that tone.

”Don't...”

She stepped forward, setting a hand on his shoulder.

”Why didn't you tell me? I mean... I have read enough superhero comics to know you gotta protect your family but I think I do good enough job ruining my life all on my own. Might as well know my little bro is a cool superhero.”

”You didn't ruin your-” Donald stopped. ”If I start to talk about this I might say something I shouldn't.”

”That's what everyone is doing,” Della said. ”Not talking. Dancing around the subject. Just go on-”

She poked his chest. ”Let it all out.”

”Della... How dared you! To leave me!”

He pulled her into a hug. ”I was so bad at it! Being a parent!”

”You're great! What are you talking about?”

”I had no idea what I was doing! I sucked! I suck!”

”Nonono!” Della pointed at herself. ”I suck!”

”I missed you so much! I have tried so hard- I worried!”

There was true pain in his voice.

But it felt like finally things have started to move forward.

”I think we should talk,” Della said. ”About this, about... everything.” She swallowed. ”Just talk.”

[lovelilijazunde]

60 follower special

well well well, somehow i went a whole day without registering that I hit 60 followers, and then 61, and thusly should celebrate for it!

I decided to give you: a country I created! There is other stuff for it too, but I didn’t get images of them :( 

Warning: it’s long

Enjoy!

FACTS:

Create-A-Country

Note: all English spellings of the places and names have been implemented for the ease of the reader. We fully understand that Americans find it difficult to understand our written language, so we have translated into English as best we could.

Uzplauxvil (oose-PLOW-ville). The citizens are called Uzplauv. It was based off a mixture of the Latvian word for “flourishing”, uzplaukums, and the French word for town, “ville” because some of the first settlers of this area were French and Latvian, as well as English, Scandinavian, and German. The pronunciation is French-based.

Founded in 1790 on what is now the Canada/Minnesota border, it replaces the state of Minnesota and most of Ontario, as well as Wisconsin, half each of Illinois and Indiana, and shavings of Manitoba. It contains all five Great Lakes and the Headwaters of the Mississippi. North to South, it stretches from a point equal to the tip of Kentucky to Hudson Bay. East to West, it stretches from the Easternmost edge of Manitoba to the Western border of Quebec.

Uzplauxvil is landlocked, though there are many lakes contained inside of it, and it adjoins Hudson Bay. It contains a boreal shield in the North, with the Great Lakes-Lawrence forest region in the center, as well as prairie in the Southwest, coniferous forest in the Mideast, tallgrass aspen parkland in the Midwest, and deciduous forest in the Southeast. At the very Northmost stretch, there is a section of Hudson Plain. There are no mountains, only forests and plains.

The weather is cold and snowy in the winter, and warm in the summer. It gets colder the further north you go, and rainier the further East you go. It also rains a lot near the larger bodies of water. Those areas are also prone to thick fog in the fall and spring, as well as early mornings in the summer.

Most people in the Minnesosk region live around lakes, since there are so many of them there. People in Wixing, Bayside, and Dallirt tend to gravitate towards the central Great Lakes, just as Ryokin and Shlavto people tend to gravitate towards Hudson Bay. And of course, in all districts the people also center around the capitals of each district. Other than that, the population is pretty evenly distributed, with plenty of farm settlements and old logging settlements that turned into towns and cities spread across the districts.

In Uzplauxvil, there is a wide variety of work done, but a lot of it is centered around healthy logging and mining processes, as well as a booming trade in fishing. Since Uzplauxvil has so many lakes, and so many of them large, even though they are a landlocked country they still are a lead in quality fishing industry. Uzpluaxvil is very nature-based, and though this is a product mostly of the main religion, Quatrysm, it is truly a part of everyday life in Uzplauxvil. As a result of this, Uzplauxvil is regarded as the most eco-friendly developed country. They revolutionized hydroelectric power, and found a healthy substitute for coal and oil to fuel their wonderful system of elevated train tracks. They are amazingly quiet, as to disturb as little wildlife as possible. Uzplauvs have made many environmental-protection laws as a result of their belief that all creatures are equally important. Uzplauxvil has only one language. It is unique in the way that it is written. To the ear, they are speaking English, perhaps with a slight French accent in the North and West areas. But, written down, it is a mystifying alphabet of 37 letters. However, it a phonetic alphabet, with each letter having a specific sound, so it is simpler in that manner. Uzplauxvil is also unique in their numerical system, with completely different symbols than the traditional. Thus, the signs are completely indecipherable to someone who has not learned the language, and it would seem even more confusing that the inhabitants do not speak in gibberish, and instead in perfectly normal-sounding English. The alphabet is easy enough to learn. The numerical system is quite a bit harder, especially if you start out as a non-Uzplauv. There are definitely some challenges to living in Uzplauv, mostly concerning  the nature-based society. Lots of people think that Uzpluaxvil should focus less on the environment and more on technology. Unfortunately, this is in opposition to their eco-friendly approach to life and religion, so thankfully this is not a generally popular idea.

There is one major religion in Uzplauxvil, even though there is freedom of religion. Since it is the religion practiced by the royal family and most government officials, is is naturally the most popular and widespread. The major religion is called Quatrysm, with the practitioners called Quatrysts. It is unique to Uzplauxvil, and is the worship of four goddesses, the Quatrys: the goddess of animals, Nkumn; the goddess of families, Calmangh; the goddess of weather, Shavook; and the goddess of plants (such as harvest or lumber), Korytir. They make up the major four aspects of life. There is also a host of smaller gods and goddesses who serve the Quatrys. They are the gods and goddesses of more everyday things such as apple trees, blacksmithing, and clouds. This belief system influences the people to be more considerate towards nature and the world around us. It has also affected our modern technology, limiting the use of pollutant-creating transport systems and factories. There are four smaller important groups: the such as the Arts: gods and goddesses of the theater, music, writing, and tactile art. The religion has no food restrictions, but you must say a blessing over every meal you are presented with, because something had to die to gift you with the bounty. Many Quatrysts are vegetarians or vegans as a result of this, and, like Europe, they eat far less meats than vegetables as opposed to the U.S.A.

The other religions include the beliefs of the Anishinaabe and Dakota native americans who originally lived in the area, as well as different sects of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism.

My country is governed by a Queen, a Council, and a Cabinet. 

The Council is made up of elected overall heads of each district. Their job is to address issues in the Queendom and provide laws and solutions to be approved by the Queen. They focus on making sure the needs of each district are met. 

The Queen position is hereditary, with the former Queen handpicking the most worthy of her female relatives as the new Queen. The qualities that a good Queen possesses must include a sense of justice, compassion, wisdom, a cool head under stress, common sense, and a sense of equality. She may choose any relative younger than her, including sisters (Marquess), aunts (Baroness), cousins (Duchess), nieces (Earless), daughters (Princess), granddaughters (Queenling), and grandnieces (Lady). These positions pre-Queen are mostly title only. They still have to work to put themselves in positions of power and to become landowners. This is to create a sense of humility and equality with the common people, and to create a system where anyone can advance. 

It is possible that if a suitable female candidate cannot be found, that a male would ascend the throne, but it has only happened once, after the reign of Queen Judith the Progressive in 1890. There were fewer girls born into the royal family at this time, and most of them were spoiled and deceitful. Thus, faced with limited female options, Queen Judith appointed her nephew, Earl William, to the throne. He became known as King William the Just, and was a wise and fair ruler. 

Any candidate must have passed the Maturity Test before she can ascend the throne, and often she takes it before beginning her training.

Common people are appointed to the Cabinet and Council, and the idea is that any future Queen should rule for the people, not the power and politics. Before becoming the Queen, the Queen Candidate must undergo vigorous training and tutoring by the Queen and the Queen’s advisors. She must be able to run a country as soon as she is crowned, so this training process takes years. Knowing this, the Queen usually begins to train a candidate as soon as possible. If the Queen dies without having handed over her throne, the paperwork would be horrendous, and the Cabinet and Council would have far more than their fair share of work. In the case of an unstable or unfit Queen, the Council and Cabinet will vote to impeach her. The Queen can pose or veto laws, and has the final say in any and all High Court cases, though she is reigned in by the judge and jury. 

The Queen may marry whomever she wishes to, though it is traditional to marry an Uzplauv.

The Cabinet is appointed by the Queen and approved by the Council. The Cabinet is made up of the heads of particular parts of the government such as Treasurer, Strategist, Armorer, Judge, Cook, etc., each of them representing their entire profession as well as leading them.

Since Uzplauxvil is split up into several districts, there are smaller Cabinets and Councils within each district. In each district, the council members are made up of the Heads of each town, with the cabinet members being the same positions as the Cabinet members, just at a local level, and deferring to the Cabinet members.

There are no political parties in Uzplauxvil. Every district is focused inwards, so that is as close as they come. This is based on the Uzplauv government looking at what happens to countries with political parties, and strongly discouraging that type of behavior there.

ALPHABET AND NUMERICAL SYSTEM:

NATIONAL ANTHEM:

[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading!

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support

Chapter 23: A Meddling Matriach

I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. — These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay. - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

The Glasgow office of Fraser and Sons Distillery was located in a solid nineteenth century building, originally designed to showcase the wealth of some Victorian industrialist. There was still an old-fashioned feel to the rooms, even with the state-of-the-art technology housed within.

Jamie’s office was no different. The generous proportions of the room were accentuated by the large pieces of furniture. Dark wooden bookshelves lined one wall. The enormous desk was of the same wood, commanding the centre of the room and two large bottle-green leather chairs were against another wall next to a tall cupboard and side table. The furniture had obviously been in place for many years but it didn’t look old or battered, merely as though it belonged. There were newer additions to the office: a coffee machine in the corner, a large screen on the desk, wireless speaker on the windowsill, but to John, as he looked around waiting for Jamie to return, it always reminded him of an Edwardian gentleman’s club or, at least how he imagined one to be. John knew that in the cupboard next to him there would be several bottles of whisky and Edinburgh crystal glasses. The only things missing from the picture were a haze of cigar smoke and the quiet murmur of elderly gentlemen.

John moved over to the shelves behind Jamie’s desk. He recognised many of the photos, the collection built up over the past couple of years since Jamie took up his current position in the company. There were a few new photos that he had not seen before. A black and white posed portrait of Ian and Jenny with the two children and a formal photo of Jamie and Claire dressed up for Angus’ wedding.

The third photo was a candid close up of Claire, obviously surprised by a sudden gust of wind, laughing as her curls flew around her face, her hands ineffectually trying to calm her hair. John was struck by her sheer...no, not beauty… Claire was beautiful, no doubt, but then so was Geneva… it was, John realised, her vitality, her warmth, her charm. Hard as it was for John to admit, he could see why Jamie was so in love.

“That’s a grand picture, is it no’?”

John had been concentrating so intently on the picture of Claire that he hadn’t heard Jamie enter the office.

“‘Twas taken at Lallybroch the other week. She had been chasin’ Wee Jamie round the garden and I jes’ snapped her.”

John returned the photo to the shelf and joined Jamie on the leather seats, declining the whisky that was offered.

“So,” Jamie continued. “Now ye’ve met Claire, what do ye think? Ye can see why she’s the one?”

“She is pretty special. It was great to meet her.”

“Ye must come round for dinner some night soon.”

“That’d be great… wait, you’re not planning to cook are you? Hopefully, Claire can cook?”

Jamie laughed at his perceived shortcomings. “Aye, weel, a wee bit more than me. She does a mean lasagne.”

“Sounds like she's a keeper.”

“She definitely is and, er, the thing is...er…” Jamie appeared flustered. “John, ye mustna tell anyone this, naybody at all. I want tae marry her. I mean it. This is no’ some fancy. I want tae be wi’ her all the time.”

John was not surprised at this pronouncement, but was unsure of the reason for Jamie’s hesitancy. Based on his observation of Claire and Jamie together, he did not, for one minute, believe that Jamie’s feelings were not returned in full.

“So, have you decided how you’re going to pop the question? Great romantic gesture planned?”

“That’s the thing.” Jamie ran his hands through his ginger curls, forcing them on end. John longed to reach out and straighten them but common sense prevailed and he focussed on the topic in hand.

“I’m no’ goin’ tae propose. No’ jes’ yet anyways. I want tae, but wi’ all that’s goin’ on at the moment, the engagement would get lost in all the other noise. Nah, when I do it, I want the focus tae be on Claire. And I dinna want her tae think I’m doing it tae make meself feel less guilty about the bairn. I want her to ken that I’m doin’ it for the right reasons. Plus there is one more thing…”

“Geneva, I’m guessing.” John knew where this conversation was heading.

Jamie forced a weak smile. Unconsciously, his fingers tapped against his leg. “Aye, Geneva. I do need tae think about how it’d look. Geneva could play the part o’ the wee wronged woman. She’d be all over it, with me as the bastard who dumped a pregnant woman and Claire as a homewrecker. The fact there never was a home tae wreck, she wouldna even consider.”

Having known Geneva for several years, John had no doubt at all. However, he did have deeper concerns than this potential movie-of-the-week scenario. “Jamie,” he began tentatively. “Please, think about this, I’m not an expert in family law, but I can give you the name of a good lawyer who is. Is it not worth consulting him now, find out exactly where you stand, get it all sorted?”

“John, I ken ye’re tryin’ to help but I dinna think we need that. Geneva has her faults, but she wouldna deprive a bairn of its father, if that’s what ye’re thinkin’. And if I have tae tread careful round her for the next few months, that’s what I’ll do. It’ll all work out, ye’ll see. And who knows, mebbe this time next year we’ll be planning a wedding at Lallybroch.”

*************

This time, Jamie made sure there were no last-minute problems. He gave himself extra time for the journey to the hospital, the drinks holder in the car was full of change. Claire, he knew, was in theatre, so there would be no chance of an unscheduled meeting with Geneva.

He actually arrived at the ultrasound reception before Geneva with plenty of time to spare. The selection of waiting room magazines and leaflets didn’t exactly inspire him. He bypassed the ‘Postnatal care of your Perineum’ leaflet, although he did pocket a couple of breastfeeding leaflets for Geneva. He settled down with his phone to wait. A message appeared from Claire wishing him luck. For the scan, he presumed, although, of course, it may have been luck in handling Geneva.

Finally, Geneva arrived. She was still not giving in to pregnancy comfort, dressed today in black spike high-heeled shoes and a figure-hugging dress. Jamie was conscious of eyes, both judging and admiring, following her as she made her way over to him. He wasn't quite sure how that dress would work with the scan - she would perhaps have to take it off, or was that what she had planned?

She kissed him briefly on the cheek and sat beside him, crossing her long, tanned legs. The toe of her patent shoe lightly nudged his shin.

“Are you excited?” she asked, resting her hand on his jacket sleeve. “About finding out the sex, I mean?”

“Are we findin’ out, then?” Jamie shifted in his seat, dislodging her hand. “We havena talked about it. Can we no’ discuss it? Do ye no’ want a surprise?”

“We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?”

“Nah, we’re no’ talkin’ about it… we’re talkin’ about the fact that ye already made the decision. And ye dinna even ask fer ma opinion at all.” Jamie spoke in a whisper, aware that other people in the waiting room were bored and keen for some entertainment.

Geneva lowered her voice a fraction. “My body, my baby, my choice. Besides I need to know to decide on a colour palette for the nursery, and then there’s the printing for the baby shower invitations that Isobel is sorting out... and do you think we should have a gender reveal for family and friends?”

Jamie folded his arms across his chest. “No’ sure why ye ask me. Ye do what ye want. But, let me be clear, I will no’ be hostin’ any parties wi’ ye, gender reveal or no’, nor attendin’ and neither will my family.  I’ve already told ye plainly that there is no ‘we’ and never will be…dinna be thinkin’ I will change ma mind on this.”

“Geneva Dunsany, room three please.”

Silently they gathered their belongings and headed into the ultrasound.

*************

Jamie sat in his car, breathing deeply, trying to stop trembling. Leaning over, he fumbled in the glovebox, pulled out a tissue and ran it across his eyes, trying to process calmly the events of the last thirty minutes.

The first realisation was that Geneva, despite the conversation they had when they last met, hadn’t given up trying to create a ‘Jamie and Geneva’ relationship. She wasn’t stupid but obviously thought that if she pushed hard enough she would get her own way… again. And her own way did not consider his opinions at all.

The second was that she would use any opportunity, including an antenatal appointment, to achieve it. Her knowing glance to Jamie as she pulled her dress up, briefly revealing her black lace panties before the sonographer modestly placed a sheet across her hips confirmed as much.

So far, so predictable.

But the third realisation struck him like a thunderbolt. When he heard the whooshing heartbeat and then the sonographer saying “Good positioning, I can see… it’s a boy,” Jamie absolutely realised that he was going to be a father and he felt a sudden rush of love for that little, blurry, slightly alien image on the screen. And, as much as he smiled at Geneva and offered celebratory words, there was only one person he wanted to share it with.

Jamie checked the time as he pressed the redial button on his phone. Hopefully, the theatre session would not have overrun.

“Claire, Sassenach, are ye around? Can I come and see ye? It’s a boy, Claire. I’m havin’ a son.”

***********

Jamie had a quiet evening in ahead of him. Claire had decreed tonight to be a girls’ night, which meant the opportunity to catch up with Geillis and a couple of other friends. With Frank, she had felt herself slowly becoming alienated from them all. Fortunately the friendships were strong enough to withstand Frank’s isolationist tactics, but Claire was not going to let history repeat itself, no matter how wonderful the man.

And by now, Jamie thought as he idly flicked through the television channels, they would probably be on their second bottle of wine and comparing notes about their respective partners’ faults. Weel, they'll have plenty tae talk about there wi’ me!

The sound of the doorbell roused him from his contemplations, its frequent buzzing conveying a sense of urgency, if not panic. Jamie rushed to open the front door, expecting some emergency to be awaiting him in the door step. It was much worse.

Geneva's mother stood on the doorstep. She had, in her youth, been considered pretty, if not beautiful. Qualities which had attracted and held onto the wealthy landowner William Dunsany. Her prettiness had, over the years, transformed into a hard, majestic facade. Her only link to her glorious youth was the beauty of her much beloved daughter Geneva, who greatly resembled her and who she had always indulged without question. Isobel, who took after her father, had been more of a disappointment.

“Good evening, Louisa. Do ye want tae come in then?” Jamie was taken aback by her appearance at his door but chose to remain polite to minimise the unpleasantness that he presumed was about to head his way.

Without a word, Louisa brushed past Jamie and made her way into the living room.

Settling herself in the middle of the sofa, she began her speech. “You can be at no loss, James, to understand why I’ve come here this evening. Your own conscience must tell you. I believe in frankness, so I’m not going to beat about the bush.”

Jamie’s face assumed a passive air. He decided to let Geneva’s mother have her say without interruption.

“I’m here to remind you of your responsibility towards my daughter. You can’t think to leave her to do everything on her own.”

Jamie’s hands curled into fists, his nails digging into the palms, but still he remained silent.

“Geneva deserves a partner in this, you have an obligation to her. And what about the baby, my grandson? He deserves two parents, needs to be brought up in a normal family. Now...” Her tone softened, as if she was offering him a gift, a solution to his predicament. “Now, I’ve heard you have started a new relationship, and I’m sure she is very nice but you’ve not known her that long and  it would be easier to make the break now than let it run on and hurt her more with a messy split. And remember, you have a history with Geneva.”

Louisa looked round the room. ”At least you’ve had the sense not to let her move in with you. That makes it easier.”

“Her name is Claire, and I’ll thank ye not tae bring her into this. I dinna mean tae upset ye but even if Claire wasna around, Geneva and I wouldna be together, bairn or no’. I agree, this laddie needs two parents and that he will have. I will do my share and when he is a wee bit older and able tae leave his mam, I will look after him here too. We can sort out the arrangements.”

Jamie’s voice was calm and level, in direct contrast to the feelings building up inside him. He was trying to remain fair to Louisa, who, he assumed, was doing what she had always done - made sure Geneva got what Geneva wanted, whether it be the latest toy, another pet… or him.

“I’m no’ goin’ tae explain the reasons why Geneva and I are no’ and willna be together. That’s between her and me. I have said I will support her and I will, I promise ye that, but only as the father of the bairn. And I willna be giving Claire up, I can assure ye. If ye think ye can come here into ma home and make me change ma mind on this, well ye will have had yerself a wasted journey.”

Louisa stood up and moved closer to Jamie. “You have no regard, then, for the

feelings of my daughter? What she must be going through?”

“Louisa, I have nothing further tae sa tae ye. I have told ye the truth. I will not be moved on this. And I resent the fact that ye think ye can tell me what I should or shouldna do. This is no’ all ma fault, so dinna be acting like I’m some sort of … of...”Jamie felt his self control start to slip, his voice beginning to rise in anger. “... evil seducer. I willna change ma mind, no matter what ye say. And ye can go and tell that tae yer daughter too.” “Very well.” Louisa headed to the door, not waiting for Jamie to stand up. “I just hope this woman of yours is worth it.”

And with that she flounced out of his house, slamming the front door behind her.

[lannpaige-blog]

NaProWriMo 2019 Prompt List

Day Eight Prompt: ivory handled moons

PG-13 - Warnings for Death Mentions, Swearing, and Violence Mentions.

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Roman

Word Count: 2725

Okay, listen, I had no clue what to do with this so here. Take it.

This is a superhero AU.

Prinxiety and mentions of Logicality.

Ivory Handled Moons

Virgil heard the hum of the elevator and knew Logan was back before the chrome doors even opened.

About time.

Virgil finished his task and made it back to the hidden hideout an hour ago. He didn’t mind sitting there talking with Patton, the only one between the three of them that didn’t dress in a skin tight suit and jump around the city fighting crime, but an hour of not hearing from Logan was way too long. The guy was punctual. More than. He got on Virgil more than one for being even a few minutes late back to the underground base. It didn’t matter that Logan owned the place and knew the layout better than Virgil did. Logan insisted that he be on time. He wouldn’t lie to himself, he was worried about Logan running into trouble, but Patton insisted he’d be all right.

Turned out, Patton was right.

Virgil turned the office chair around, away from the large security camera display, and towards the silver coated doors that opened soon after. Sure enough, Logan stepped out, still clad in his silver and black body-tight suit with the silver dueling crescents in the center. He hadn’t bothered to take of his black mask either, which dipped back into the cowl of his uniform and covered all traces of his short brown hair.

“You sure took your sweet time,” Virgil said, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned forward, his arms propping onto the back of the chair that his chest was pressed into.

“Apologies,” Logan said as he stepped towards the computer and, as a result, Virgil and Patton, who took that time to turn in the chair he sat in like a normal person, “I had an interesting encounter while I was out. Patton, do you have any information regarding a hero by the name of The Crimson Prince?”

“Yeah!” Patton said. Virgil saw the beaming man jerk back to the computer. Virgil turned his own chair slowly to face the computer screens as Patton typed on the LCD keyboard display. After a second, several pictures and a file popped up on screen. The words were big enough for Virgil to read. He didn’t bother. Instead, his eyes caught the costume this particular hero decided to wear. It was a white, red, and gold ensemble. Mostly white, but the hero wore a red cape that looked as if it was designed to dramatically billow in the wind at even the slightest of breezes. The chest, instead of having a logo, looked like the gold trim and stitching were taken out of some kind of fairy tale more than any superhero comic. His face was covered in some kind of red and white theater mask which covered his eyes with black lenses, as well as hid the area around his eyes and the left side of his face. At his right side, the guy had an ivory sheath with a matching ivory sword handle. While the detailing on the hilt and sheath were gold, matching the touches on the man’s uniform, Virgil hoped the blade was the traditional silver.

Virgil hoped this not because gold would be tacky. The whole costume was tacky, if he was honest. No, his hope stemmed from the uncomfortable tightness in his stomach as he stared at the man’s frame.

He knew the broad shoulders and power stance. He knew the smirk traced along the man’s lips. He knew that jawline, that sharp nose, that pristine wave of brown hair that peeked over the top of the mask. His hands tightened against the back of the chair. His mind rotated over the possibility. His ears picked up both his heartbeat and Patton’s chipper words.

“The Crimson Prince started getting some attention a few weeks ago,” Patton said, “Small stuff. Stopped a robbery, prevented a car theft, retrieved some stolen purses and returned them to police, that sort of thing. Then, a couple days ago, he intercepted a whole truckload of stolen weapons and brought them to police. Remy got the report from his boss and added it to the system. Wanna see it?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Logan said, “Do you know anything specific about his approach to crime fighting? Perhaps his morals or any background with which we can use to determine what has led him down this particular path?”

“Nope!” Patton said, “All I know is what Remy’s told me and you know he’s not good with that stuff. I can ask Emile to take a look if you want.”

“I believe that would be a wise course of action.”

“Why?” Virgil finally asked, his voice deep as he turned his gaze to Logan, “He attack you or something?”

“No, quite the opposite,” Logan answered, “He intercepted me on the way back here and voiced his desire to speak with me. I assumed that he wished to join us, as many of these up-and-coming heroes often do. Instead, he thanked me for inspiring him to take this path and handed me this.”

Logan tucked his hand into his tight glove and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. With a calm hand, he held it out for Virgil. Virgil took it with a light tremor dancing across his own fingers. He opened the paper and saw, inside, printed text. Not just any text, though. A poem. Virgil only read the first line:

Wielder of ivory handled moons;

Anxiety’s claws ripped at Virgil’s stomach and clamored towards his heart. He felt the waves of nausea come over him. No. Hell no.

Virgil dropped the letter, lurched from the chair, and ran over to his backpack, leaned against the wall where he’d left it before he changed into his own tight outfit. He opened the smallest pouch in the front, yanked out his cell phone, and brought it over to the computer, his steps and movements jerky and frantic. He turned on the screen, opened the gallery, and handed the device to Patton.

“Take these pictures and cross reference them with the ones you have of The Crimson Prince,” Virgil said. He could feel his voice and throat tighten around the words.

“Who-” Patton started.

“Just do it!”

Patton took the phone and plugged it in. He pulled off copies of images Virgil treasured - images of selfies, of candid shots in his living room, of dramatic poses in open fields, of cleverly photographed shots, of him - and compared them to the numerous images they hand on file. There were more than Virgil expected, but it gave him a chance to see if it was really a match. Seconds felt like hours as his mind begged, pleaded, for this man to not be the crimson clad hero he’d just heard about.

The program stopped. A number appeared. Virgil’s breath caught.

97% Match.

“Guess he’s a guy,” Patton said.

“It seems that way, but we cannot be certain until we are able to completely see the hero’s face.”

“It’s him,” Virgil growled, his frozen fear melting to a heated anger so fierce he felt the flames lick against his face.

“Who is he?” Patton asked.

“He’s my goddamn boyfriend.” Virgil lurched towards Patton. “Give me my phone back, I’ve got to-”

“Virgil, calm down,” Logan said.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Virgil yelled, “That idiot is going to get himself killed doing shit like this! I can’t let him-”

“You cannot use your phone to communicate such a message to him,” Logan said, “It would not be safe for either you or your boyfriend if the message were to get into the wrong hands. I would be willing to invite him here if you wish to discuss the matter in a private setting. It would not be difficult to arrange, given the conversation he and I had this evening about a possible alliance.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Virgil snapped.

Logan nodded, turned, and headed to the elevator. Virgil let out a sigh that was covered but the opening and shutting of the elevator door. The movement, however, wasn’t concealed by anything. Neither was his shaking left hand clawing through his own hair, which was temporarily colored back to match his own starlight inspired wear.

“Does he know about you being a superhero?” Patton asked.

“No! I didn’t tell him anything!” Virgil yelled. He started pacing. “What the hell is he thinking?! He started learning how to fight with a sword for cosplay. Cosplay! That is not going to translate well into this kind of crime fighting! He should know there’s super dangerous people out there! He reads the news!”

“A lot of people try their hands at being a hero,” Patton said.

“Yeah, and a lot of stupid people get themselves killed in the process!” Virgil yelled, “He is not going to be on that list!”

“You’re right, he won’t,” Patton said, “‘cause you’ll be there to protect him.”

Virgil glared at him. “He will if I don’t stop him from doing this!”

“You’re not going to be able to stop him, Virgil,” Patton said. His voice almost mirrored that matter-of-fact tone that Logan had. Virgil blinked at him and lifted his head. “I tried to stop Logan when he decided to fight crime too but he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. We argued for so long over it. Then I saw how much good he was doing and I decided to help him instead. I don’t like violence and I can’t fight but I thought that if I could help him, maybe I could keep him safe and the city would be better for it. This hideout was his idea, but me being here was mine. He didn’t want me involved, but I didn’t give him a choice. You and your boyfriend can do that too.”

“But he’s not an experienced fighter,” Virgil said, his voice dying down but his anger refusing to subside.

“Then you and Logan can train him,” Patton said, “You guys train every day. I’m sure he’d be happy to train with you if you gave him the chance to.”

Virgil crossed his arms and glared at the ground. A lot of things Patton was saying was right. No, he couldn’t stop his boyfriend from doing this stupid shit. In truth, his boyfriend couldn’t stop him either, so Virgil supposed that was fair. He also could keep his boyfriend safe through all this if he convinced Logan that keeping him around was a good idea. But he still didn’t like it. He didn’t like the idea of losing the man he ran to when his panic attacks got back. He also didn’t like the idea of losing the normalcy they’d maintained over the past two years. What would he think when he found out Virgil was hiding this from him? What would he think about the lies Virgil told about his scars? His bruises? His scratches? What would he think about Virgil’s lies about where he’d been and who he’d been with? There were worse things than being a superhero, but Virgil was sure he’d be pissed anyway.

With that thought, Virgil stalked off towards the training room.

“I’m going to blow off some steam,” Virgil said, “When they get here, you tell Logan to let Roman in the training room alone.”

“Oh, Roman’s a nice name!” Patton called. Virgil ignored him, crossed into the training room, and closed the door behind him. There was a lot of open space, some exercise equipment, various dummy weapons, but, most importantly to Virgil in that moment, a punching bag. Virgil pulled his mask back on, tightened his fists, and started throwing punches. Each punch felt like raw anger and unfiltered anxiety. Each one smacked against uncertainty and fear. The cacophony of beats brought a monotone song issued by waves of emotion that altered from anger to sadness to fear and back again in rapid succession.

The door opened. Virgil threw a couple more punches, stopped, and reached his hand out to stop the swaying bag. His chest heaved. Sweat tricked down his temple and traced his jawline. He didn’t dare look.

“I believe my assistant wanted to speak with me,” Logan said, “You can speak to Stellar Starlight about the matters I wished to discuss with you.”

“Thanks,” the other voice said. Virgil could tell from the delighted tone that it was Roman. There was no question about it now. His fingers twitched against the bag. The door shut. Silence feel between them.

“So-” Roman started.

Virgil held up his other had, palm out, fingers splayed. Silence fell between them again. Virgil caught his breath, though it didn’t really feel like it. He could feel a darkness crawl against his skin. So many questions, so many statements, so many wants and needs from this interaction and all of it boiled down to the first question.

“Why are you doing this?” Virgil did his best to disguise his voice. He lowered his hand. “Why are you choosing to be a superhero?”

“I want to save people!”

“That’s it? You know there are hundreds of morons out there that do that same exact thing for the same exact reason that get themselves killed, right? You don’t get to just be a hero to save people. You have to want it for a reason. So, what is your reason, Prince?”

Silence. Virgil could feel the uncertain anger boiling under Roman’s skin all the way across the room. He anticipated yelling, screaming, a fight. Instead, he got a sigh.

“I,” Roman started. He hesitated. Even from that one syllable, Virgil could tell he was about to bare his soul. Virgil braced himself. “I have this person that’s important to me. I want to keep him safe.”

Virgil stayed quiet. He learned from Logan a long time ago that if you wanted more information out of a guy, you didn’t talk. So he let the silence linger. And as Virgil predicted, Roman opened his mouth once more and the words came pouring out.

“He’s the most important person I have. He’s the only one that has always been there for me when I needed someone. Normally you could repay those favors with kindness or something, but he’s so scared all the time about the violence going on and I want to help him out. I’ve spent the last two years training so I can go out there and clean up the streets a little. I’m hoping that it’ll let him walk around without constantly looking over his shoulder. He’s always doing that and I... I want him to feel like he doesn’t have to. I want him to know that there are heroes out there trying to keep people safe. I can tell him that they’d keep him safe all I want, but unless I’m out there doing it, I could never be able to really promise him that. With this, I know I can keep that promise now, even if he doesn’t believe it.”

Virgil finally looked to stare at the other masked man. Even behind that painted mask of The Crimson Prince, he could see that pressed frown and furrowed brow. Normally, when Virgil saw that look, it was accompanied with some kind of gentle touch on the hand, a nuzzle, a kiss, something. But here, with these disguises, there was nothing but distance.

“You’d die for him?” Virgil asked finally, his voice tottering between disguise and tears.

“If I had to, I would give my life to keep him safe.”

After one long, silent stare, Virgil sighed and let his eyes drop. Then he steeled himself with a deep breath and reached up. With one slow, fluid motion, Virgil peeled his mask over his head and let the fabric drop against the cowl of his uniform. Then his eyes flicked up. He caught the slacked mouth on the right side of Roman’s face, the tense shoulders, the shattered bravado falling into slackened, red gloved fingers.

“How about now?” Virgil asked.

There was a pause. Then, in one dramatic motion, Roman tore of his mask, closed the distance between them, pulled Virgil close, and planted one passion infused kiss right against Virgil’s lips. Virgil only let himself hesitate for one second more. Then he accepted the kiss and everything that came with it, uncertain future and all.