#they destroyed everyone and everything around them rip Tumblr posts

[fall0utmind]

Medical Leak AU Ch6

Chapter 6 - Burn/ Mistake Below (4k)

Part 1 - 5 here

Here on AO3

****

I'm still sick and my head hurts but i REALLY hope you guys enjoy this chapter of pure pain.

Thank you so much for all the love, I so so so appreciate it.

Let me know what you think!!

TW//// suicide - slight descriptions of suicide and dying (no actual death) - mentions of overdose and injury (all past)

The room holds its breath. Everyone is on high alert, their wide-eyed stares dancing between different group members, cataloguing every reaction. They are collectively choking on the escalating tension balancing on a razor’s edge, threatening to asphyxiate them all. Valentino studies the scene before him, blinking in confusion at the strange mix of people filling the small space. He raises his eyebrows at his boys, who shuffle awkwardly; Bez refuses to meet his eyes, staring steadfastly at the floor instead. Pecco and Luca do not share the same reservations, meeting his stare head-on. He is astonished to find unrestrained anger in Pecco’s eyes, and he questions what lies he has been fed to him by the surrounding men. He rips his gaze away, instead turning to assess the wider room.

Contrary to popular belief, Valentino is merely a person and, therefore, experiences very human emotions. Watching Marc fly off his bike, somersaulting in the air before slamming into the gravel, made his heart drop and his breath catch. When he didn’t make a move to get up, a decade’s worth of resentment and pain promptly disappeared as overwhelming fear choked him. However, the guilt that has been souring in his stomach since his run-in with Marquez earlieris beginning to evaporate, replaced by the scorching ragethat only Marc can illicit. Valentino observes how Marc has thrown himself on top of Dovizioso and Lorenzo, his teeth grinding in outrage. He cannot believe his insolence – to act like the world has done him some injustice; to fall into the arms of anyone who will offer; turning Valentino’s own riders against him. He seethes at the thought. How can Marc sit there acting so pleased when he has made Valentino feel this way? How dare he trick him like this?  Alex is standing to the side, unnoticed, with his fists clenched by his sides, hot fury spilling over. Who the hell does Valentino think he is turning up here, after everything he has done?

Valentino glances at Marc again, pausing at what he observes. There is something odd about the way he is holding himself; his usual mask of cold indifference has fallen away, replaced by wide-eyed worry. Marc is coiled tight with tension and has been since he registered Valentino. His gaze is darting around the room, anxiety practically dripping off him. It makes no sense. He does not look pleased, or smug. He is not ready for a fight. Instead, he seems scared, defeated, and even drained, like he has nothing to give. Valentino deflates slightly at the lack of provocation he finds from the group, none of this makes sense.

Marc is still slouched on the couch and is visibly panicking now; his heart is thumping in his chest and his breathing has become laboured. The last person he wants to see after the craziness of this weekend is Valentino. He feels vulnerable and helpless, stripped bare in the face of his adversary and unprotected in his own safe space. Images conjured by his traitorous brain flood his mind: Valentino destroying his last remaining sanity; Marc losing everything he has left; and Marc's friends abandoning him when they discover how hopeless he is. He bites back the distressed whine trapped in his throat, desperately hoping no one notices the choked-off noise he makes instead, but 7 sets of eyes immediately dart towards him, the silence broken. He gulps on his fear, his body frozen despite his mind screaming for him to move. The attention of the whole room is directed at where he is staring like a rabbit in headlights, too scared to flee. In his periphery, he swears concern flashes across Valentino’s face, gone as soon as it came, before he speaks, uncharacteristic uncertainty colouring his voice.

“Marc, I-”

Jorge curtly cuts him off, unwilling to let Valentino land his first blow.

“Valentino, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Valentino looks him up and down, sitting at ease in Marc’s living room. The younger is still sprawled across him and Dovi, looking up with scared eyes. Molten-hot anger once more boils in Valentino’s stomach. He does not understand what elicits such a strong reaction; whether it is the presence of Lorenzo or the way Marc is all over the pair of retired riders. Although, why would he be angry about that? It is none of his business who Marc screws. He scoffs, his face contorting into harsh, livid lines. All his intentions for politeness are forgotten. But Jorge knows his old rival too well not to see what is going on, and he can’t allow that. He pushes Marc towards Dovi, letting him settle before he jumps up, starting towards Valentino and talking lowly so that only he can hear.

“Don’t you dare, he has every right to move on, you don’t give a shit about him. Don’t pretend you do. He’s wasted enough of his life over you when you went out of your way to ruin him”

Who said a little jealousy wasn’t good to make sure someone knew what they were missing? Valentino's jaw hits the floor, astonishment and fury pouring over him like gasoline to a fire.

“Move on? Move on from what? I don’t care what the hell the bastard does in his spare time, I just want him to leave my boys out of it.  Get out of my way Lorenzo”

The heightened emotions leak into their voices, louder than intended, grabbing the interest of the others. Alex stands up, coming to stand next to Jorge. Marc’s face has shuttered at Valentino’s words. Luca and Pecco also make a start towards Vale but are halted by Jorge’s hand. Alex beat them all to it, swearing up a storm in Catalan.

“Vés a cagar a la via, puto desgraciat!”

Marc is staring at his brother with shock written across his face, he has never heard him sound so furious. Alex pays no mind, his wrath directed at Valentino.

“Puto imbècil de merda!”

Most of them have no idea what he is saying, but they can gather that isn’t exactly polite. Jorge looks torn between laughter and dismay. Alex collects himself enough to seethe once more in Valentino’s direction, in English this time, so he can understand.

“You bastard. You absolute bastard. How dare you turn up here and start acting so self-righteous. I hate you. You ruined everything. I almost lost him. We all almost lost him-”

Alex chokes on his next words, emotions overwhelming him. There are tears in his eyes which he furiously wipes at as he turns towards Jorge, gesturing for him to continue, before he slinks across the motorhome and through the door to the bedrooms. Valentino shakes himself from his stupor, astonished by the outburst.

“Is he always so dramatic-”

He never gets to finish that sentence as Jorge interrupts him, truly fed up with his nonchalance and refusal to see the truth.

“No, no, you listen here, you bastard. You didn’t have to watch him break down in your arms because of the things people have been saying. You didn’t have to watch him cling to the only people he had left for him because you took everyone else away. You left, walked out, left him broken, and let everyone else pick up the pieces of your mess. Fuck you, Valentino. Fuck you and your stupid denial and your ability to make your own problems everyone else’s.”

Vale stands silently, indignance rising inside him, rendered speechless by Jorge and Alex’s outbursts. He glances at Marc, who has masked his face into the perfect picture of media calm, only a slither of his previous panic shines through. His eyes look far away as if he is barely conscious of the chaos around him. He pushes the thought to the side.

“What the fuck? What did you just say? He lost me my tenth. We all know that I just told it as it was.”

He looks towards his academy boys, who all refuse to meet his eyes. It only makes him madder, a little hysterical at the idea that they too had been corrupted.

“No, we fucking don’t. Ask yourself Vale, what the hell would Marc gain from helping me over you? Why would he do that? He loved you, not me. You’ve clouded your own brain with lies and conspiracies and you’ve forgotten the truth. Marc did fuck all apart from trying to win.”

Marc reacts to that, grimacing from his seat, looking between Jorge and Valentino with barely concealed panic. Valentino gives him a side-eyed look and scoffs.

“Love? Yeah right, the only thing Marquez loves is his bike and winning. But maybe he wanted you more than me?”

“You’re kidding? Jesus Valentino, you’re so dense”

“Well, we all know he slept with half of the grid after Sepang, so it isn’t a giant leap.”

Alex growls at that; Valentino isn’t sure when he re-entered the room, but now he whips around towards Vale but is held back by Pecco. Jorge is panting now, seething with anger. Dani grabs his hands rubbing it comfortingly and pulls him back from Vale as Marc goes to stand, slightly wobbly on his feet.

“So that’s what you think of me huh? Do you think I’m some whore who won the championship for Jorge so I could sleep with him? Do you think I’m an attention seeker? A dangerous rider? That I’ve ruined this sport?”

Valentino watches him in silence, there is something off about Marc, something he can’t quite understand. Something lingers beneath the burning pride and resentment that he is so used to. His eyes are unfocused and a little lost; their usual warm brown has darkened, engulfed by his pupils and his anger. He somehow looks young, wide-eyed and naïve, despite the fury radiating off him. How he manages to look hurt, angry, and confused at once is baffling. It reminds Vale of that godforsaken photo that was taken at the press conference in Sepang, the one that has haunted him for a decade. When he first saw it, he laughed, but then it made him doubt everything. As the years have gone on and he’d solidified his stance on Marc, it still lingers.

“Did you know it was one of your fucking journalist pals that leaked my medical records? Were you part of that too? Did you take delight in all my pain, or was it just your fans? They never could let 2015 go, a little bit like you I suppose.”

Marc spits it out, venom burning his tongue. The room goes silent. Alex turns to him, just as shocked as the others.

“si, the team told me earlier, I couldn’t tell anyone yet, there’s no official confirmation, and frankly I didn’t want to face it. We’ve kept it quiet for your sake Valentino, but maybe we shouldn’t have. After all, you didn’t give a shit when they broke into my house and threatened my family. You didn’t give a shit when I almost died. Why would you care now? You always have had a sway with the media, no doubt they would find a way to spin this in your favour. A few choice words and all would be forgotten. Yes?”

Valentino looks like the floor has fallen out from underneath him. Pecco sits back down heavily as disbelief colours the air around them. The room drops a few degrees. Valentino’s face crumbles, the fight leaving him.

“You’re lying...”

Valentino doesn’t sound certain as the accusation falls past his lips. Marc simply laughs a harsh, cruel thing.

“Why would I lie about this? Let me guess, you think the rest of it is a lie too, huh? Did I make that up too?”

“Marc, I didn’t know”

Marc scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at his former hero.

“What didn’t you know Valentino? About the press digging up all my pain, your fans abusing me, or about how you left me back in 2015?”

Valentino stutters, grasping at the feeble trails of what used to be his truth - torn to shreds in the light of the motorhome.

“Go on Vale, say it, you didn’t know how bad it was? Didn’t know that I-“

“No stop, don't”

Valentino looks devastated now, eyes darting wildly around Marc’s face, looking for a hint of lies. He doesn’t find any. It makes sense then, what he found earlier, Marc looking out of it, clouded eyes, wobbling when he stood up. He’s spitting nothing but the truth because he’s clearly off his face on something. He shoots a desperate look at Alex, the younger meets his gaze but doesn’t react. Valentino starts to speak but pauses, unable to force the words out. Marc releases a bitter laugh.

“You can’t even say it. I had to live it, at 22. I was almost a CHILD. I LOST everything to you. I almost died. You took my heart with you when you left, and a knife in My back.”

Valentino chokes,

“Why didn’t you say?”

Marc laughs even harder, a manic edge to it.

“Of course, I didn’t fucking tell you. What was I meant to say? Hi Vale, I know you hate me and think I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you and the sport but I’m actually in hospital and I want to die. Just thought I’d let you know.

How about this? Valentino, I'm in love with you but actually, I've overdosed and in about ten minutes my brother will find me half-dead. But I thought you should know what you meant to me”

And God the aim was true on that one, Valentino gasps for air, clutching at any defence he can find.

“You were on track with a death wish? It’s not like I was wrong then”

The room startles at that, shocked by his cruelty. Luca puts his face in his hands, muttering obscenities under his breath in Italian as Pecco shoots daggers at his mentor. Dovi honest to God growls, prowling towards Valentino, but is stopped by Dani who is also glaring at the oldest Italian. Alex turns and punches the wall. Hard.

“Really? That’s what you’ve taken from this?”

Valentino seems to wake up to the room’s atmosphere then, realising the stupidity of his statement. He sensibly decides not to elaborate further on that point. Jorge begins to speak, hoping to put an end to the madness but Marc stops him. Now that he’s started laying it out, he can’t stop gutting himself in front of Valentino.

“Shocker but being suicidal doesn’t mean I tried to take myself or anyone else out in style on race day. Well, I certainly didn’t try to kill anyone else. I know you have convinced yourself that I am the devil, that I am dangerous. I can see that you will never change your mind. But you do not get to come here and pretend I have done something wrong by protecting the small amount of will to live I had left by avoiding you. Did you want me to call? In 2015? 2016? You would have loved to hear that you’d broken me. All I did was sleep and cry and be forced to eat when all I wanted to do was stop living. Do you think I should have messaged when I was riding through agony in 2020-2021? Maybe I should have asked you to take me back because I was in so much pain that I was abusing the medication. Do you like my humiliation? Is it some twisted game to you?”

It is then that the final piece of the puzzle falls into place. Valentino realises several truths at once.

Marc had been crying before he had entered and probably for quite some time considering his red-rimmed eyes, filled with hurt. It makes him wonder whether he allowed the others to watch him break apart; the thought makes a spike of resentment lance through him. Secondly, it is jealousy he has been experiencing all weekend, staring at the way Marc relaxes in front of Dovi and the other ex-riders. Valentino can’t pinpoint what he is jealous of, but it sits uncomfortably in his stomach, so he decides not to think about it. Thirdly, Marc hates vulnerability more than anything else; there’s no way he is enjoying this weekend, and he certainly didn’t cause it in a fit of attention-seeking. Valentino used to know him well, he doesn’t know how he overlooked that. For Marc, this must be torture, showing so much weakness to the world. He would be too proud to admit it, but he is hiding behind a wall of fake bravado even in his worst moments, scrambling desperately to hold his defences.

Valentino has seen the reports; the vivid descriptions of Marc’s pain make him wince. Some of them he couldn’t bring himself to read, too painful and gruesome to fathom. Marc’s history is printed out in black and white. He knows what they say, and now he realises with sickening clarity that they are all true. It makes him stumble slightly, horror dawning in his mind like the sun breaking the horizon, lighting up the truth with vivid clarity. He thinks about what he’s read, the graphic details of the overdose in 2015, where Alex had found him on the floor of their bathroom at home, slurring and on the brink of consciousness. All of it is written in stark medical terms, including the resuscitation. Marc had died on the table; it rocks him to the core. He rehashes the reports of Marc depressed and desolate after 2015, a chain he wore for many years to come. Reports of Marc on suicide watch and the subsequent concern of the doctors who cared for him. He feels sick when he imagines the aftermath of Jerez, the surgeries and the subsequent pain, the scribbled doctor’s notes talking about addiction and reliance. Words are thrown around like medical neglect, non-compliance, and risk to self and overdose. Tales of Marc riding through agony only to cram himself full of medication the rest of the time, just to numb the pain. It had all happened to him, to his Marc. And when had it become his Marc?

Vale feels as though he is free-falling off the edge of a building, without a parachute. He is struck again and again by the realisation of the truth of what he has done. He buckles under the weight of it, almost falling to his knees. Distantly, he sees his boys staring at him with a mix of confusion and horror. Valentino has fucked up. All those years, he turned a blind eye, chose to listen to his side of things, and ignored everything that told him otherwise. He’s going to be sick. He has lived in his own little world for too long and now it is as if someone has come along and burst his bubble; they have flicked on the lights. The truth does not portray him in a pretty light. The world outside his bubble is cruel and horrifying. He searches within himself but can no longer find any fury over Sepang, just guilt. He still believes Marx chose vengeance, he still thinks he can be dangerous, but can’t they all? It looks different now, it makes more sense and fits with the other perceptions of Marc. The stone-cold racer who will do anything to win. The suffering man who took solace in his bike. His Marc.

Valentino turns to Marc once more. Tears are shining in his eyes; he looks completely drained of life. Vale feels the same way.

“Marc, I didn’t know. I promise I didn’t know, Oh god, Cazzo. Marc, I had no idea. Cazzo. Cazzo.”

“Leave Valentino, just go.”

“No please, let me explain, I thought-”

“NO. GO! GET OUT. LEAVE. I DON’T WANT YOU HERE AGAIN. PLEASE, JUST GO.”

Marc loses his composure, screaming at Valentino. His voice cracks as the tears begin to spill over. He wipes furiously at his eyes, gazing at Valentino one last time before he looks away. As he turns, he says one last thing,

“You had your chance. Don’t come back”

Alex steps forward then, pushing Valentino to the door, with some delight.  Luca, Bez, and Pecco trail after them awkwardly, Luca puts his hand on Marc's shoulder as he passes, apologising quietly. Pecco pulls him into a tight hug, surprising the older man. As he escorts them outside, Alex turns to Valentino, his tone is crystal clear but simmering with fury, delivering a killing blow.

“Maybe you should spend some time thinking about what it would be like to hold your brother in your arms, minutes away from death. I found him you know. I called for help, I took him to the hospital, and I watched the life fade out of him. No matter how many years go by, I’ll never, ever, forget holding him, thinking it would be his last breath, weeping over him. Nothing will ever be worse.

You’re the reason my brother lost everything, make it right or fuck off and don’t come back.”

The younger Italians look devastated as Alex turns to leave, barely sparing them a glance. Alex slams the door behind him. Vale is breathing heavily as he spins around and meets three disappointed stares. Pecco just shakes his head, turns on his heel and leaves. Bez surprises the older man as he offers Valentino a sad look.

 “You’re a fucking idiot”

Luca’s reaction hurts the most, his younger brother levelling him with a disappointed glare and some harsh words.

“You need to fix it. You fucked up. Badly. Work it out, Vale.”

Vale watches Luca’s back disappear into the darkness, despair threatening to swallow him home. Vale stands there alone, outside Marc’s motorhome, for some time. It feels like time is suspended, the echoes of past mistakes haunting him. He really has screwed up, and he has no idea how to fix it.

[borgialucrezia]

i really find cesare and lucrezia's intense and destructive relationship so interesting and captivating. their love for each other fed off all the energy from the people who ever loved them, they even pursued substitutes as lovers as they were unable to attain what they truly desired - each other, with cesare taking ursula's love and affection, lucrezia taking paolo and alfonso's innocence, and both of them alienating juan by pushing him away and making him feel lonely and excluded. it's almost like they didn't rest until all of them were dead. their narcissistic and extremely dangerous love led to tragic outcomes, leaving only each other behind.

[bananayuyu]

Making a Mess

Pairing: Mingi x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Being on stage makes Mingi really, really horny. Luckily you're backstage to help him out.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, public sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids making a mess on the floor...

A/n: Heard an audio on here today and well... my brain started working overtime. I need him to destroy me. My bestie challenged me to write something short finally 😭 hope you enjoy! <3

I wrote a part 2/expansion of this story called Cleaning Up which you can read here!

<^><^><^><^><^><^>

Being on stage always had an affect on Mingi, one visceral and tangible, obvious even to fans with a keen eye. The lights, the production, the sea of screaming people chanting his name, it all riled him up more than anything. Staring out at the massive arena, the music deafening loud as he rapped through ragged breaths, his nerves were on fire. Exiting the stage he ripped off his jacket, lumbering quickly towards the changing rooms on his way to find you.

You, his companion on tours. His close... friend? Not really. No one asked questions, least of all you two. But you knew why you were here, why he needed you patiently waiting with the rest of the staff, ready to help him at a moment's notice.

"Y/n," Mingi huffs as he busts through the door, his lungs heaving from the heat he's feeling, his makeup making his eyes look dark and demanding. A small smile sneaks onto your lips as you rise, following him out into the hall, a sprinkling of random people wandering past you at varying speeds. You've both been in this arena a few times before, and you know exactly where he's taking you. He's got about seven minutes before he needs to be back onstage again, so it can't be too far. Not that either of you are thinking about that right now. You duck down another small hallway and then his hands are on you, pushing you against the wall by your hips, his open mouth colliding with yours as you both sigh in anticipation, tongues roaming each other's mouths. You can hear a pair of shoes squeaking down the perpendicular hallway, a small golf cart running by somewhere in the distance. You're not really covered here but it doesn't matter. It only adds to everything.

Mingi pulls back with a nip to your lower lip, burying his face in your neck as he snakes his hands underneath your shirt, squeezing over your entire body while biting down, marking you just like he did a few days prior, where a small yellow bruise is still healing. A small yelp escapes your lips at the pain, your entire body buzzing with pleasure as he so aggressively plays with you, making your knees weak. Not wanting you to fall he moves to grab your waist, lifting you up the wall as you wrap your legs around his hips to anchor yourself. At this angle you can feel how hard he is, just like everyone saw moments ago on the big screen.

"Was it a good set?" you ask breathlessly, your faces only inches apart.

"Fuck yeah," he responds before kissing you again, a hand coming to rest behind your head as he pushes into your mouth even further, reveling in the feeling of your warm tongue on his. "Fuck I needed this," he groans, his other hand gripping your hip to help support you, his hips grinding into yours as he tastes your sweet lipgloss, your perfect eyes shut in pleasure as he digs his hand into your soft flesh. Soon he's unbuttoning his pants, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he holds you up with just his hips. He's unzipping hastily, desperately grabbing at his cock to free it, squeezing his shaft as he lines himself up with you. Your exercise shorts are just loose enough, with no underwear underneath of course, for him to push them to the side and reveal your soaking cunt, your body getting worked up long before he came and got you. Shakily he lines himself up with your entrance, his blood pumping through him so fast as he slowly pushes in, the stretch immaculate.

"Fuck, Mingi," you whisper, shocked every time by how big he is, how good it feels. Slowly he starts rocking his hips into yours, your wet pussy making lewd noises echo down the hallway. Moving his hands back to your hips Mingi lifts you just a bit higher, giving him the perfect angle to start fucking you hard, the wet noises replaced by the slapping of skin, over and over and over.

"How are you always so wet?" he groans in your ear, his mouth nipping at your lobe and making you whimper. Pulling back he watches your face from just inches away, loving the way your brows are scrunched up and your mouth hangs open as you try not to moan too loud. Your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your hands still anchoring on his shoulders as he pounds into you even harder, his grip on your hips so strong it will surely leave bruises. Your pussy clenches down on him as he hits your cervix repeatedly, ripping little orgasms out of you over and over, your legs shaky as you hold onto his hips for dear life.

"God, you drive me fucking- fuck- crazy," he whispers in your ear, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your wet walls squeezing down on him. "You cum so fast on my cock," he groans, his head spinning as his climax quickly approaches. You've already fallen over the edge multiple times, your body shaking hard now as you just try to hang on, unable to respond to him as you keep yourself from screaming into the open hall. He's absolutely ravishing you, his movements sloppy as he chases his pleasure, your wetness dripping down onto his pants, the floor. Suddenly his orgasm washes over him, his hips stuttering before coming flush with yours, as he shoots deep inside you, his cum filling you with warmth. It's a lot, too much for your pussy to contain, and small amounts start dribbling out of you already, even with his cock still buried inside you.

"Fuck, what would I do without you," he sighs into your hair, kissing your forehead before moving to your lips. He moves his hands around your back, pulling you up towards him in an embrace as you breathe hard. Your arms rag doll down to your sides as you sigh, your head resting heavy on Mingi's shoulder, and he chuckles. "You good?" he whispers, and you nod your head in response. You nuzzle your face into his neck more, making him pause for just a moment, letting a bit of time pass with you both still entangled.

And then it's finally time for him to slowly pull you off of him, both of you watching as the rest of his cum drips out, down your legs and onto the floor, leaving a small puddle. There's a smirk on his face but your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment, even if this wasn't the first time that's happened. For a brief moment his chest tightens, knowing that you find it a bit mortifying letting him have you so publicly. It's all so hot and so shameful all at once, making you quiet and shy, and with your eyes on the ground your hand on his arm is the only sign that you're still wanting him next to you.

"Come on," he says, helping you start to move the rest of the way down this small hall that had a bathroom at the end of it. This really was the perfect arena for this, given the out-of-the-way private bathroom. You wish all of the arenas they toured had this set up. Your legs wobble as you make your way down, Mingi's hold the only thing from preventing you from falling. And then you're finally there by the door, about to swing it shut when he gently grabs your shoulder turning you around. His eyes are swimming with satisfaction as your face meets his, and he leans down to pull you into a kiss again, this time sweet and gentle.

"Mingi, get your ass back here!" you hear a voice scream from down the hall, the sound sharp from ricocheting off the brick walls. And just like that he's gone down the hallway, running on somewhat shaky legs of his own. But not before planting one final kiss on your nose, making your stomach light with butterflies, your core clenching from the sweetness.

[pirateprincessblog]

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center. 

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes. 

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

 your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Private equity rips off its investors, too

I'm coming to DEFCON! TOMORROW (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

It's amazing how many of the scams that have devastated our economy and everyday people owe their success to the fact that we assume that rich people know what they're doing, so if they're doing something, it must be real.

Think of how many people lost everything by gambling on junk bonds, exotic mortgage derivatives, cryptocurrency and web3, because they saw that the largest financial institutions in the world were going all-in on these weird, incomprehensible bets.

Then there are the people who are convinced that online advertising is built around a mind-control ray, because tech companies claim that's what they have ("I am an evil dopamine-loop-hacking wizard and I can sell anything to anyone!"), and because huge, sober blue-chip companies hand billions to these soi dissant svengalis. Sure, online ads are a swamp of clickfraud and garbage, but would these super smart captains of industry spend so much on online advertising if it didn't work super-well?

http://pluralistic.net/HowToDestroySurveillanceCapitalism

From our worms'-eye-view here on the ground, it's easy to assume that rich people and the people who sell them stuff are all on the same side. "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product," right? If Facebook is tormenting you with surveillance advertising, it must be doing so on behalf of the surveillance advertisers, for whom Mark Zuckerberg has bottomless reservoirs of honest, forthright impulses.

The reality is simultaneously weirder, and obvious in hindsight. The reason Zuck is tormenting you is that he's a remorseless sociopath who doesn't care who he hurts. He rips off everyone he can rip off, and that includes advertisers, who have seen steady price-hikes and lower-fidelity targeting, even as ad-fraud has skyrocketed while Facebook draws down its anti-fraud spending:

https://www.404media.co/where-facebooks-ai-slop-comes-from/

This is not to say that Facebook advertisers have your best interests at heart, that they aren't engaged in active deception in order to better themselves at your expense. Rather, it's to say that there's no honor among thieves, and Zuck is an equal-opportunity predator. Moreover, both Zuck and his advertisers are credulous dolts, so the mere fact that they are pouring money into something (advertisers: FB ads; Zuck: metaverse) it doesn't follow that these are real or important or the coming thing.

For me, the Ur-example of "rich people are dumb, even when it comes to money" is the private equity sector. I've written a lot about PE, and how destructive it is to the real economy, from Toys R Us to pet grooming:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/05/rugged-individuals/#misleading-by-analogy

How they killed Red Lobster:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

And how they actually created the death panels that Sarah Palin warned us about (it's OK, though: these death panels are run by the efficient private sector, not government bureaucrats):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

The devastating effect of private equity on the real economy is increasingly well understood, and a curious side-effect of this is that people assume that if PE is destroying their lives, they must be doing so on behalf of their investors, who are making bank.

But – like Zuck – PE bosses are just as happy to steal from their investors as they are to to steal from the workers and customers of the businesses they acquire on those investors' behalf. They swaddle this theft in performative complexity and specialized jargon, but when you strip all that away, you find more fraud.

All the misery that PE inflicts on workers, communities and customers are just a convincer in a Big Store con, a bid to make the scam seem credible. For a certain kind of investor, any economic activity that destroys communities and workers' livelihoods must be a good bet. This is the dynamic at work in the pitch of AI image-generator companies, who spend tens of billions on technology that there is no substantial market for:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/25/accountability-sinks/#work-harder-not-smarter

AI image generators represent a high-profile, extremely visible example of "a job that AI can do." Nevermind that AI illustration went from a novelty to a tired cliche in less than a year. Even if you think that AI illustrations are a perfect substitute for commercial illustrations, that still won't come anywhere near making AI companies a profit. Add up the entire wage bill for every commercial illustrator in the world, hand it to Open AI, and you're not even gonna cover the kombucha budget for Open AI's staff kitchens.

Hell, all the wages of every commercial illustrator that ever lived won't pay back even a fraction of the money the AI companies spent on image generators. The pauperization of an entire class of creative workers is just a canned demo, a way to fool investors into thinking that there is a whole universe of similarly situated workers whose wages can be diverted to AI companies. This is the logic of small-time spammers, scaled up to the scale of the entire S&P 500. Smalltime spammers looked at AI and thought, "OK, I can generate as much botshit as I want on demand for free. Science fiction magazines pay $0.10/word. So if I generate a billion words, I'll get $100 million." But that's not how any of that works: sf magazines don't buy botshit, and even if they did, the entire market for short fiction adds up to what Sam Altman spends on a single designer t-shirt. The point of destroying these beloved, useful things isn't to make a lot of money by taking their markets – it's to convince dopey, panicked rich people to give you lots of money you can steal, because they think you can do this to every market and they don't want to miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Take "divi recaps": after a private equity firm acquires a company (by borrowing money against its assets), it typically declares a "special dividend," emptying out the company's cash reserves and pocketing them. A "divi recap" is when PE then takes out another massive loan against the company's (remaining) assets and pockets that:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

All of this happens under an opaque cloud, thanks to the light-to-nonexistent disclosure rules for PE. A public company has to open its books for the SEC, its investors, and the world. PE is private – and so are its finances. It is absolutely routine for PE bosses to put their spouses, kids, and pals on the payroll and hand them millions for doing little to nothing, all at the expense of their investors:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2022/02/sec-set-to-lower-massive-boom-on-private-equity-industry.html

PE bosses charge huge fees to their investors – not merely the usual 2-and-20 (2% of the funds under management and 20% of any profits) – but also a wide variety of special one-off fees that pile to the sky. They also dip into their investors' funds to issue themselves massive loans that they use to make side-bets, without telling the investors about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/10/monopoly-begets-monopoly/#gary-gensler

PE investors are chickens ripe for the plucking: take "continuation funds," which allow PE bosses to soak the rich people and pension funds who supply them with billions:

https://news.bloomberglaw.com/mergers-and-acquisitions/matt-levines-money-stuff-buyout-funds-buy-from-themselves

Remember 2-and-20? 2% of all the money you manage, every year, and 20% of all the profits. You'd think that these would be somewhat zero sum, right? If you use some of your investors' cash to buy a company, and then sell off that company for a profit, you get the 20%, but now the pot of money you're managing has gone down by the amount you used to buy the company, and so your 2% carry goes down, too.

But what if you sell your portfolio companies to yourself, using your investors' own money? When you do that, you continue to hold the company on your PE firm's books, meaning you continue to get the 2% carry, and you can pocket 20% of the sale price as a "profit":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/20/continuation-fraud/#buyout-groups

This is straight-up fraud, wrapped up in so much jargon that it can successfully masquerade as "financial engineering" ("financial engineering" is really just a euphemism for "fraud"). PE bosses keep coming up with new, exotic ways to steal from their investors. The latest scam is "tax receivable agreements":

https://archive.ph/RczJ9

On its face, this is a tax scam. When a company goes public, early investors generally hold stock in the original partnership or LLC; this company ends up holding a ton of shares in the new, public company. When they sell those non-public shares in the LLC, this creates a (potentially gigantic) tax credit.

A TRA hustle involves tracking down these LLC shareholders and convincing them to sign off on dumping the LLC's shares, which generates a huge tax credit for the public company. The hustler offers to split these credits with the LLC holders.

All of this is especially attractive to PE bosses, who often take a company private, do a bunch of "financial engineering" and then take it public again, leaving the PE firm as the owner of those LLC shares that can be converted to a TRA and a huge windfall – which the PE bosses pocket, because they (not their investors) are holding those credits.

This scam is really doing big numbers. KKR – the monsters who killed Toys R Us – just diverted $650 million in TRA loot, prompting a lawsuit from Steamfitters union pension fund, which had handed these jerks millions of its members' money to gamble with:

https://archive.ph/kqQvI

This highlights another very weird aspect of the PE scam: they are absolutely dependent on pension funds. To add insult to injury, PE funds are notorious union-busters – they use union money to buy companies and destroy their unions:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/05/mr-gotcha/#no-ethical-consumption-under-capitalism

People who try to understand the PE business model often give up, because it seems to make no sense, leading many to assume that they're too unsophisticated to grasp the complex financials here. For example, PE is absolutely dependent on massive loans as a way of looting its businesses, but it also often defaults on those loans. Why do banks and investors keep making huge loans to PE deadbeats? Because – like the PE fund investors – they are credulous dolts.

The reason PE seems like a scam is that it is a scam. It is a fractal scam – every part of it is a scam. You might have heard about the "carried interest" tax loophole that allows PE bosses to avoid billions in taxes on the money they steal from their investors, creditors, workers and customers. Most people assume "carried interest" has something to do with "interest" on a loan. Nope: "carried interest" is a 16th century nautical tax rule designed for mercantalist sea-captains who had an "interest" in the cargo they "carried":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/29/writers-must-be-paid/#carried-interest

But rich people and other "sophisticated investors" (like pension fund investment managers) are no smarter than the rest of us. They are herd animals. When they see other rich people piling into some scheme or asset class, they rush to join them, which makes the asset price go up, which makes them think they're smart (until the inevitable rug-pull). When one plute jumps off the Empire State Building, the rest of them jump, too.

Which is why there's more money flooding into PE than at any time in history, $2.62T in "dry powder," handed over to greedy, thieving PE bosses in a poker game where everyone is the sucker at the table:

https://www.institutionalinvestor.com/article/2di1vzgjcmzovkcea8f0g/portfolio/private-equitys-dry-powder-mountain-reaches-record-height

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/08/sucker-at-the-table/#clucks-definance

[dcxdpdabbles]

Royal Consort? 🥺🥺

The worst part about knowing there was danger on the way was acting like everything was fine. Danny found it very annoying that instead of going through the guests individually to find the key for the invading forces, he had to dance with his future self.

Danny was pulled into a fast-paced Viennese Waltz by his future self. (He would call him Phantom since it was easier in his mind. No way could Future him have the right to be a Danny when he came dressed like King Phantom)

The two dazzled everyone by their skill. It was one of the few things Princess Dora could beat into his head when Danny had been crowned. Shockingly, Pointdexter was the ghost that took his mediocre skills and sharpened them to a level that Danny had once considered competing with.

Danny considered Pointdexter one of the best dancers to ever live. This was one reason his classmates were so cruel.

The two became fast friends after he defeated Pariah Dark, especially when Danny stumbled over the ghost version of Casper High. It seemed Pointdexter's soul was trapped in his old torment, and his classmates—the real ones from life—were still bothering him after their mirror fight.

Danny beat the 1950s teenagers and freed Pointdexter, finally removing him from his bullies. He had the teen relocate to the King's castle as his Lair Manager, where he was tasked with caretaking Pariah Dark's castle.

This, unfortunately, was done after Danny had taken the Royal Consort necklace, so his lair manager was not able to stop him from wearing it. It did make sense now why Pointdexter mentioned more than once that he was "rather vain to love yourself that much, Dano".

He just thought it was weird 50s lingo.

Phantom couldn't be that far into the future—not if they still looked so much alike—the only difference was that he was an inch or two shorter. If anything, he would guess this Danny Fenton, in all his Kingly attire, was a year or two from the current day.

He wanted all the information Phantom could give him, but sadly, the other was just as in the dark of tonight's events. The only real clue they had was what Phantom experienced.

Sometime around midnight, someone would activate the key—a rectangular tool with a loud boom when it was turned on. The tool tore apart Wayne Manor as it blew the roof away, and the invading forces were teleported to Earth.

It quickly overran Gotham, even with the Bats arriving almost instantaneously, and the aliens made quick work of the rest of the world. The Justice League responded quickly, too, and soon, it was an all-out war with planet Earth as the battlefield.

Millions of lives were lost in the battle that first night. Batman was killed around 2 a.m., followed by Superman—who was helping hold off the main mother ship—at 5 a.m. The Justice League put up their best effort, but it soon became clear they were outmatched.

The following months saw humans scrambling to fight while countries were destroyed one by one. Their armies conquered, their heroes fell in battle, and the humans were either enslaved or killed. It seemed Earth had earned a reputation in faraway galaxies.

Humans or anyone from Earth were deemed exotic pets. The aliens had come to poach them.

They had blocked all communication with Earth's allies, including the Green Lantern Corp and New Genesis, not wanting anyone to interfere with their hunt. They also decided that the resources from Earth were of enough quality to take over the planet and rip it apart to sell to the highest bidder.

The aliens came in never-ending waves no matter how many Earthlings managed to kill, forcing humanity to flee underground.

In only a short while, Earth was picked clean.

In a low, anger-coated voice, Phantom said he had just finished a mission to rescue humans from a breeding center. He had helped them escape to Ghost Zone, which had become one of the few forces keeping humans safe. His army had torn apart the galaxies to find the stolen humans when Clockwork offered him a chance to fix everything.

Danny wanted to ask so much more, but with the gala attendees watching their every move, they figured they should discuss it less, even in Ghost Dialect.

Phantom had pulled Danny into a secluded location to hiss his explanation, but it was only a few minutes before Tim Drake Wayne found them. Danny wasn't sure why, but the other teen seemed determined to speak to Phantom.

It didn't help the Waynes that Phantom already suspected them and was very hostile whenever Tim opened his mouth. If the Waynes were innocent, that could lead to a problem later, but for now, Danny could only glare at Tim.

Phantom said that the person who turned it on had stuck the rectangular device to Jazz's back, using her body as a gateway. That meant someone in this crowd would approach his sister to turn her into a sacrificial lamb.

King Phantom had already warned her—under the disguise of dancing with her to honor Danny's family. He had even danced with his parents and one with Dani—but Jazz had insisted on staying. She theorized that if she left the gala early with Dani, as Phantom had wanted, someone else would become the gateway.

The aliens would attack no matter what, and removing her would take away concrete information.

Danny and Phantom did not like it, but both agreed with her logic. They didn't even know who had betrayed humanity- whether it was voluntary.

It was barely nine-twenty. The suspense was killing Danny.

"Mind if I cut in?" A silky voice fills the air, tearing Danny away from his anxious thoughts. Danny turns to find a woman standing at their side. She is gorgeous and holds herself in a way that lets the world know she is aware of this fact.

She leans over slightly so her cleavage is on display, resting an arm on Phantom's shoulder. Her smirk sharpens when Phantom's eyes drop to her hand as he lets his hold on Danny slip.

Her smugness quickly shatters when Phantom's face clouds over in rage at the hold she has of him.

Phantom reaches up to fling her hand away. His voice overlaps with thousands of others, sending a shiver down the spine of anyone who hears it. "Don't touch me."

Danny gapes alongside the woman as Phantom twists around and waltzes them away.

"Dude, what was that?"

"We don't have time for her or anyone who wants to replace you as my husband," Phantom hisses, though his expression remains ever so loving as he swings them about. Danny matches him step by step, ignoring the gaping crowd. "The Waynes are watching us, and half the venue has asked Jazz for a dance. Dani even more so."

The two glance toward Dani, who is in an equally fast-paced Viennese Waltz with Damian Wayne. She seems to be purposely stepping on his feet. There is a line of young, influential boys waiting for their turn.

It seems they all believe this is a chance to get married to the princess of the dead. It seemed half the Gotham elites believed Phantom would go for an arranged marriage for his daughter.

Fools them.

"We still have hours before midnight. Dancing with or talking to other people would be a good idea, so try to find the key," Danny whispers to him. "You've only danced with me since you arrived. I know it's for your King Phantom image, but we can't-"

Tim Drake Wayne slides up next to them, dancing with the air and keeping pace with their movement. Both halfas blink as Wayne smiles at them brightly, looking at ease for someone acting so ridiculous. "Hello again."

Danny and Phantom keep dancing, and Danny replies with a confused hesitation. "Hey....what are you doing?"

" Nothing much! Just...ugh love this song. Couldn't find a partner so-"

"Dance with Phantom," Danny is quick to say, ignoring the way Phantom's eyes start to glow. He is done with pretending there isn't a problem. He will find that key with or without future him's help.

He pulls himself away- ignoring the hiss growing in the back of Phantom's throat. He didn't know he could do that- and tugs the alarmed-looking human into the King's arms.

"Darling." Phantom's voice is low in warning. Knowing the crowd is still watching even more openly now, Danny turns his nose up.

"I'm tired, Phantom. Dance with Wayne here since you couldn't keep your eyes off him!"

He storms away, ignoring Wayne's choked "King Phantom, I am so sorry for causing this misunderstanding. I swear I am not trying to upset the Consort or come between you two."

He disappears into the crowd that part for him, pretending to be so blinded by jealous rage that he does not notice the way he is going. Danny finds a hallway out of the gala and goes into Wayne Manor.

Now then. Danny thinks Let's see what the Waynes are hiding.

Meanwhile, Bruce drags a hand down his face, watching King Phantom's face twist as Tim babbles before him. "I told him not to upset the King."

[simplyraeblue]

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ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader x !virginshoto you've had a crush on your friend shoto for a long time, and unbeknownst to you he's been crushing as well. not only that, he wants you to be his first time; for everything WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, fluff, SMUT, p in v sex, loss of virginity, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho), creampie, shoto isn't a two-pump chump, word count: 2,244 A/N: we've arrived at the final part! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) virgin shoto is no more after this part... BUT HOORAY FOR SMUT. home base has been HIT. tysm for everyone's likes, reblogs, comments and support through this little series. ily guys!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

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sure, you’d slept with people before now. but this was Shoto Todoroki; the boy you’d been hardcore crushing on, and a virgin. you felt butterflies in your stomach and awkwardness creeping into your bones at the thought of… well, as he put it… making love to him.

but Shoto had no fear. he’d dreamed about this, even touched himself to the idea. he knew what he wanted and as usual – he was diving in headstrong.

Shoto grabbed your hips, fingers sliding under the sides of your panties to get a firm grip, and pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. you could already feel his hard cock pressing against your pussy through your underwear. your body became a furnace just from the contact.

with his hands firm on your waist, you rolled your hips into him. Shoto elicited a whiny groan as you continued applying just enough pressure with every move – he knew that if this felt like heaven, being inside of you was going to destroy him.

“does that feel good, Sho?” you asked as you tried to bite back your own soft moans.

“fuck, yes baby.” Shoto whimpered, his hands gripping into your skin harder with every roll of your body against his cock.

just as you were thinking you were going to take this slow, give him everything he deserved in a first time, Shoto wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped swiftly you over to lie underneath of him.

you gasped at the sudden movement, feeling his throbbing cock press more firmly against you now. you were sure that you were leaving a wet spot on his pants, so you reached for his belt. however, Shoto beat you to it, making quick work of taking his slacks off and pulling them down and off his ankles.

he knew his boxers were soaked with pre cum, his tip pressed against the fabric weeping and needy for you. Shoto yelped as your hand reached out and palmed him before hooking your fingers into the waistband and tugging them down slowly – painstakingly slow to Shoto.

when his cock came free, you gasped. just like the first time you’d seen it, it took your breath away, and you imagined that feeling would never go away. drool began to pool in your mouth as you took in the sight of pre cum leaking from his tip and down his length. one of your fingers swiped some of it up before you sucked it off in your mouth.

Shoto tried to calm himself down from seeing you do such a filthy action. he crashed his lips into yours, slipping his tongue in to try and feel as inside of you as he possibly could right now. he could still taste himself on your tongue and he felt something feral inside of him snap.

he’d fill you up with it if you let him. you were his.

“take off my underwear, Sho.” you instructed him, and he was all too eager to do so. hell, he’d rip them off with his teeth. Shoto pulled your soaked panties down and past your feet, before unfastening your bra and tossing it to the side.

you were an angel, he thought. you were his salvation, the one he’d follow forever. “I love you.” he breathed out, his voice soft and breaking slightly. you saw the glistening of tears in his eyes and pulled him down to kiss him gently.

“I love you too, Shoto.” the words felt like a breath of fresh air coming from your lips, like they were right to say all along. it felt… perfect.

you swore then and there that you’d take care of him until the end of time.

whatever had been holding Shoto back from following his instincts evaporated with your response. he kissed you rougher, hungrier, and moaned into your mouth as your nails dragged up his back.

the two of you didn’t break contact as you shuffled up your bed, your head now lying on a pillow and Shoto pressing his chest to yours.

just as you were thinking that kissing him was the best thing ever, you felt Shoto’s fingers brush over your clit. your sensitive nub sparked with electricity that sent a harsh pant spilling from your lips.

he wanted to enjoy you for a little first. devour you like the dessert from dinner, only sweeter. Shoto dipped his head into your neck, biting down on the soft skin at the exact moment he slid two fingers past your entrance.

“Sho, b-baby!” you moaned out, arching into him. your walls clenched around his fingers like a vice grip.

he removed his mouth from sucking on your skin, surely marking you for everyone to see, and leaned over your face with a soft smile. “does it feel good?”

“mhm.” you panted as you squeezed your eyes shut when his fingers curled inside of you. “but – mmph – want more.”

“shit… I-I don’t have a condom.”

you opened your eyes to gaze into his, seeing them sparkle with adoration. “I want you, Shoto. right now.”

he nodded in understanding, his face becoming determined as he removed his fingers from you. your hole clenched around nothing and you could’ve cried from the lack of something filling you up.

as Shoto pumped himself, he took your hand in one of his and peppered your palm and wrist with kisses. “’m gonna be careful, baby.” you felt his tip slide between your folds and you moaned at the contact, just wanting him to be inside of you already.

“p-please, fuck me.” you whimpered, wiggling your hips slightly to rub against him. he sucked in a breath and his hand released his cock to grip the sheets by your side.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Shoto whispered. he stared down at where your slick was coating his tip – like it was inviting him in.

“you won’t.” with the affirmation from your lips, Shoto slowly pushed himself into you.

oh, he was right. this was his undoing. you threw your head back and whined in pleasure as he felt you clench around him. “f-fuck.” he dragged out and he sank deeper into you. his mind was in a state of frenzy, ecstasy washing over his entire body causing him to shiver at the way your walls encapsulated his cock.

“my god, S-Shoto.” you panted out before pulling him down to collide his lips into yours. he was filling you up so so good, and when he bottomed out you almost felt your release snap immediately.   

“s’good baby – s’like you were made f' me.” Shoto murmured between your lips as he paused inside of you. if he didn’t take this slow, he was going to cum too fast. your pussy was already causing him to near the edge and he wanted to enjoy this.

“move – Shoto move.” you begged as you rolled into him, pushing him deeper until you felt his tip kiss your cervix.

“don’t wanna be too quick, baby.”

“don’t care.” you told him; your eyebrows pinched together as you looked up at his blown-out pupils. “need you to – hah – fuck me.”

Shoto kept his eyes locked onto yours, taking in your beautiful face and hair splayed out like a goddess in front of him, as he slowly dragged his cock out of you. snap. with the first thrust, he watched as your mouth parted and your eyes rolled back. snap. with the second thrust, he kissed you right as you moaned his name.

he tried so badly to keep his pace slow, savoring every expression and noise you made. but with the more times you said his name, the more your wet walls clamped around him, he lost his resolve.

his cock thrusted into you faster now, hips snapping into yours. with every thrust, he felt your slick covering him, making a sloppy mess of your skin and sheets.

“shit, so wet f’ me.” Shoto’s head dipped into your neck, weak from the feelings coursing through him. he maneuvered his hands between your bodies where the two of you were connected and circled your clit with his fingers with every fuck up into you.

you were fucked out of your mind with pleasure. every time Shoto struck the bundle of nerves, every time his cock left you empty before stuffing you – this was fucking heaven, you decided. this was the best you’ve ever had. “feel so good inside me.” you whined between pants, your body bouncing with every thrust of his hips. “filling me up s’ good baby.”

“mph – god I’m getting close, y/n.”

as his fingers and thrust moved faster, you felt yourself quickly approaching your own release. “I – fuck – I love you.” you whined as the building orgasm inside of you teetered on the edge.

Shoto brought his face above yours, his hands moving to cup the sides of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you I love you I love- ” with those words, and his look, your orgasm crashed into you. vision flashing white and your mouth hanging open, pussy clenching onto him, your thighs wrapped around him as you screamed his name.

“fuck – baby I-I’m gonna-” Shoto couldn’t even finish his sentence before his orgasms shot through him, painting your walls with his cum and filling you up as he trembled above you. through your own release, you roughly jerked his face down to meet his lips with your own, both of you panting into each other’s mouths as you both rode out your highs.

once the both of you were coming back from the brink, Shoto collapsed on top of you panting. “I love you, y/n.” he whispered, nuzzling his face into your neck and littering it with kisses.

“I love you, Sho.” you responded, stroking your hand over his hair.

you could still feel him twitching inside of you, his cum warming your insides and sloppily seeping out past his cock. “that was… that was amazing. you’re amazing.” Shoto panted out.

“so… you enjoyed it your first time getting to home base?”

Shoto chuckled into your ear softly, his breath hot against you and sending shivers down your spine. “home base… that’ll never get old. only enjoyed it so much because it was with you.”

finally, he pulled out of you and watched with his own eyes as cum dripped out of your hole to plop onto the sheets. he had an idea, something he’d seen people do in porn, and gathered some of his cum onto his fingers before bringing it to your lips.

he didn’t even have to ask before you opened your mouth and closed your lips around his fingers, sucking and licking the cum from them.

watching you made the blood rush to his dick – again. you noticed, and smirked. “already?”

Shoto smiled at you, his face flushed from his recent orgasm and a new, hot desire. “round two? what’s that, a grand slam?”

you were pretty sure he was a god. at least after he fucked you two more times within that night. yup… definitely a sex god.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the next morning, you awoke nestled in his arms, both of you still naked from the activities of the night prior. you looked at his sweet, sleeping face next to you and smiled before kissing his cheek to gently wake him up.

“mm – good morning baby.” he whispered; his voice raspy from sleep.

“I was thinking I should bake you a cake today.” you stated, kissing his cheek again. he opened his eyes and looked at you like what for? “maybe I’ll put some icing on it that read ‘virgin no more’.”

Shoto rolled his head back and let out a loud laugh. “is that something people do?”

“only funny people. maybe I’ll get a baseball inspired cake and write home base on it.” you joked as you laughed as well. you ran your fingers through his hair as he looked at you lovingly. “but seriously, I’m starving. I want breakfast.”

“want me to order in some food?” he asked, already reaching for his phone.

after you both put in your food and placed the order, you snuggled into his chest, relishing in his warm skin. “I didn’t know I could ever be this happy the morning after.” you told him.

“I’m glad I can make you feel that. you deserve it.” Shoto kissed your forehead, smiling in pride. sure, he’d seen, heard, and felt your pleasure, but he was a little worried that you hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he did. “I’ve been told that some women don’t enjoy it.”

“oh, baby.” you grinned at him. “that’s only if their partner sucks. you – however – are fucking perfect.”

Shoto glanced at the delivery status on his phone, before a wicked thought crossed his mind. his hands began to wander your still-naked body under the covers and as his fingers dipped between your legs he felt his cock twitch.

“we have thirty minutes till the food gets here.” he suggested lowly, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Sho.” you giggled, blushing furiously at how devious you had made him through this whole process. “freshly un-virginized and already hungry for more.”

“I love you, so much.” he whispered into your skin, gently biting your neck and beginning to suck it between his teeth.

“I love you too.” you murmured as you felt yourself getting hot and wet again.

“so, wanna go again?”

“hell yes.”

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist: @ellielover69 tagged based on some recent comments since this is the final part! : @doodlingpizza @mirxsworld @veez-isaitgirl thank you so much for all the support! if you'd like to be added to any of my tag lists send a request via the "ask me anything" on my page! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Link to Bakugo x reader here (word count: 2,328) Link to Kirishima x reader here (word count: 902) Link to Kaminari x reader here (word count: 2,680)

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really for back in

Part 4 why does family always hurt..?

Previous

Everything had been fine, everyone had been fine, then Danny had to go and fuck all that up. Stupid ghost core! Stupid half a status! Stupid need for human teethers.. stupid want for a real family.. ˢᵗᵘᵖᶦᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ˡᶦᶠᵉ ʰᶦˢ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ...

Danny screamed into his pillow, then he wailed into it causing the house to shake a little. He was the beloved king of the Infinite Realms, he had Vlad, and Jazz, and Tucker, and Sam, and Val, and Elle. Even if the only one to stay close to him was Vlad they were all still there for him. They were his family. He wasn't alone no matter how much his core screamed to go back and try to be with the brother he had failed to protect. The golden brother that lived while the dirty one died. Even his real father didn't seem to want him but still at least he wasn't trying to destroy him molecule by molecule..

At least he wasn't creating weapons to destroy him and his kind. He shouldn't have been hopeful, why would he want another son? A son he never knew, another dead son. A failure. Only the realms liked Danny, only the realms and those affected by it cared for him.. And that's all he needed. He didn't need the brother he used to tell stories to, the brother he helped teach to properly care for weapons. The brother who looked so scared whenever he did something wrong, the brother he took the blame and punishment for. The brother grandfather doted on, the brother that killed him. He didn't need a brother. He didn't need a mother. He didn't need a father. Danny had what he needed.

Danny would meet up with Sam and Tucker, talk with Jazz, talk with Elle. All of those over interaction helped with the ache in his core till they left, till the call ended. Then the aching was back. So much worse than before. Cujo helped though, Cujo made it so much better. So did battling other ghosts in the realms, fights were good for ghosts after all.

Everything was fine, Danny was fine, his brother was fine, his brother's family was fine, till it wasn't. Till Danny's world came crashing down overtop of him. Suddenly the house was being raided by special forces and the bats and Wonder Woman and other Justice League members Danny barely knew of. Suddenly he was ripped out of bed and forced to kneel next to Vlad who looked pissed. Suddenly there were agents taking Danny's blueprints and projects and Destroying Vlad's lab. Suddenly being treated like criminals. Again.

That was the joke wasn't it? Danny Phantom needed family, needed connection, needed living world teethers to stay living but Danyal didn't deserve it did he? Danyal should just fade away and never return, why give a damn about the living realm when it never did so much for him? Why care when they want him dead? When they want those he sees as his real family dead.

A collar was placed around both him and vlad's neck, meta collars unfortunately for them, meta collars only work on the living. Danny motioned for Vlad to go as he let his core project his rage to his godfather. As soon as no one was looking Vlad disappeared going back through the portal before they figured out how to turn it off. Leaving his collar and restraints behind.

Why did Danyal stay? Why didn't he leave with his Godfather and just return when it was safe again? That's because Danyal Masters Al Gul was tired of running. He was going to see his brother and his god awful family one last time then never again. He's done letting people hurt him.

———————

It took longer than any of the bats wanted to admit to find out the deal behind the Masters residents. 6 weeks to be exact, but the firewall around anything Masters was hard to crack through and then when they did finally get through, they had to breakthrough another firewall encrypting a town called Amity park. Every time they'd get through one the other would lock up again, whoever was behind it did not want them finding anything but the Bats and Birds are nothing if not determined. What encouraged them even more was that the demon brat wasn't as bratty as usual, still out of it from whatever encounter that was. They did however get through and oh boy was there plenty to work with. Silent genocide of entities from another realm, crazed scientists poking holes through dimensions, a god damn nuke dropped through the portal, a child vigilante, and Vlad attacking said child vigilante. With a clone of said vigilante, bingo, that must have been why Dams was so freaked out. Evil clones were never fun. Tim would know.

First they stormed the Fenton household, dismantling and taking any and all weapons and equipment. The Fenton's at first tried to fight them but they weren't skilled enough to take down multiple bats and birds.

With the lasso of truth (thank you Wonder Woman) the Fenton's gushed everything about ghosts and how they were evil and how their weapons worked and how because of it their son had left to go live with his godfather. Danny was a lovable kid to them, their lovable kid same with their amazing daughter Jasmine who was now studying away at Harvard. They also mentioned working with an organization called the Ghost Investigation Ward, which was supposedly government. They were the ones with the nuke. The Fentons would be taken into custody for now.

Then was the Masters resident. That was a bit harder but as soon as they got through with plenty of agents that had helped with Luther's insanity of inventions. The Masters lab was more put together, cloning tanks, another portal with safety lines, medical tables weapons put away safely instead of in a god damn toy chest. The Vlad Master was much less. Corporative till Danny was brought out still tired and in his pj's. The Man calmed down when he knew the boy was ok. Though he still grumbled about having their heads for this and how this was unjust. Just as they thought things were simmering down Vlad disappeared leaving the boy behind as the portal closed. The kid didn't even seem worried about it. He also wasn't worried when the lasso was tied around him. Wonder Woman asked as she held the lasso causing it to glow as usual. "Where did Vlad Masters go?"

—————————

"Where you won't find him" Danny smirked, living devices don't work as well against the dead though the lasso is special. It definitely works more effectively meaning Danny still had to answer but being from the realms he can be tricky with his answers. "And where is that?" One of the cursed bats asked as they made their way over. Danny would just smile at them too wide, fangs showing. "Somewhere you can't go right now but will eventually."

"What does Vlad Masters want?" Batman would Huff at Danny. His voice as Gravelly as ever. "Same as any business man, money, power, for you to get out of his house" Danny then looked around the Bats and birds and noticed a lack of his twin brother. "Aw where's the little robin? Too scared to come meet me himself? Had to send the misfit family to deal with his problems?" Danny spoke. With a voice filled with malice. How dare his brother not even come when they take him. How dare he think so little of him.

The bats and birds were a protective bunch, Danny had learnt that much. Surrounding him and glaring like they could intimidate him. He knew they wouldn't kill him without getting answers first and human punches didn't hurt as bad as ghost ones. Like watching small dogs barking at a big one. It was cute to think they could do anything to the Ghost King on their own.

Nightwing would speak up this time scowling, how dare he talk about his brother like that. How dare he act better than his brother, how dare he act like he knew his brother. "You know nothing about Rob-" Danny interrupted and sneered "Shut up Grayson. I know more about Damian than any of you know" This got everyone's attention, how did he know that? The silence caused the boy to laugh. "Oh are we done with the pleasantries now? Well then let's get the name game out of the way shall we, you know move the plot along quickly so I can see the young assassin. Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Bruce Wayne."

A stand silent surrounded the heroes before Danny was suddenly lifted up by Batman who held his pajama shirt tightly in an attempt to intimidate the boy. He practically growled at Danny. "How do you know that? What is your relationship with my son?"

Danny laughed again, a cold bitter laugh "You really don't recognize me at all, do you?" Batman didn't respond to that as he just glared at the boy. "I'm your son you ancients forsaken fruit loop. I know you don't believe me, even though I wish you did but you have enough of my room to figure it out for yourself." Then like he was never there Danny disappeared leaving the collar, the cuffs, and the lasso behind as he turned invisible and intangible. He didn't stick around to see their reactions.

Next he had to see Damian, he was done looking for a family. They always hurt him anyways. Soon he'll be up in the stars, the only place he was ever safe. Maybe he could let his protection side of his core go a little and only focus on space. He needed space more than anything right now..

———————

Danny's core cried out again as another crack formed from the last teether now being forced away. It splintered even more when he realized his brother didn't even come. Then again when he realized that even when he was so close to his father he couldn't recognize him.

Next

[year2000electronics]

does anyone have any thoughts or headcanons on how bill got his powers? i sure do!

in my mind, the euclydian massacre almost worked like how dropping experience might work in a video game. to use an example, im thinking of slither.io, where if you die, you leave these glowing orbs that other players around you collect to grow themselves.

(shoutout to that one bill cipher rp account on twitter who made exactly one in character post and then just kept posting his slither.io scores.)

so for bill to not only have killed EVERYONE in euclydia, but also literally destroy an entire DIMENSION and reduce it to an atom, that must have given him EXPONENTIAL power. that's how it works in my mind, anyways- it's a tradeoff. he lost everything he was to become who he is.

but that begs the question, why is bill considered a "dream demon"? destroying euclydia and haunting peoples' dreams have nothing in common. well, i think i have my answer, in that it's not necessarily bill himself that takes on these "dream demon" qualities, but it's because of his circumstance.

see, the realm he immediately hops into after he destroys euclydia is the nightmare realm! one described as being "in-between dimensions" and a place where "the physics work different" (all made clear in the book of bill). of course bill would be able to slide into that realm as this uber-powerful 2d being who entered a very 3d world.

but then you get to "our" universe, and the planet earth, which is an entirely 3d plane made of 3d beings. the concept of 2d exists for us, and it's demonstrably not something where alive beings can live or even move. so, in my mind, bill can't just "pop in" to our world. he needs a rip in space-time, exploding weirdness from the nightmare realm that makes the laws of physics just bendy enough so that he can manifest himself in there no problem. but if earth is 3d and he can't access it, how is he supposed to make that portal?

easy. what's a "world" where the laws of physics don't exist in our world? the world of our minds and dreams! our imaginations don't obey the laws of physics. one person might be able to "perfectly visualize" something in a 3d plane, but another might have aphantasia so can only read words in a book and understand them. and that's not even beginning to take dreams into account, who follow NO rules because theyre subconscious thoughts haphazardly stitched together!

tldr bill can exist in the mindscape because it's not a "3d plane" that obeys the laws of physics, and the reason he's known as a "dream demon" isn't because he has a particular affinity for dreams, but instead because that's the only place in our world he can appear! thats my headcanon for it anyways

[redwolfxx]

if you died

(Gun x reader)

TW: angst, themes of death, mentions of religion

Summary: You die, how does he react

A/N: Sorry it's been a while, running low on inspiration. Was gonna add some others but wasn't sure on how they might react so I'll save it for another time. Lmk your thoughts!

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

Gun

If it was of natural causes:

He would watch your body in the hospital bed with an eerie quiet. His features softer than normal but absent of emotion .

He'd examine your face ever peacefully sleeping in the silence of the room, no mechanical beeps from the machines, nothing. Just silence.

He'd eventually leave you and return back to his place for the night.

At first he had no plans of keeping any of you, he was, at Goo's advice, going to remove all fragments of you from his life, the clothes in his closet, the shoes by the door.

But he couldn't do that to you. So instead, he went to your apartment using the spare key you gave him a while back. He quietly rummages through your apartment, taking the ring you would always fiddle with, the stupid photos you took at every photo booth you passed, he took a few more items, before he was done.

He stood in your foyer, looking around your apartment, it was quiet, and lifeless. Your apartment was always the opposite, your cat attacking him whenever she saw him, your plants everywhere blocking walkways, your gaudy framed artwork livening up the place.

But it was empty and painfully quiet. Your plants given away to trusting friends, your cat given to your sister, and your artwork given to friends and family.

He almost felt his heartache, but that's not an emotion reserved for him. He didn't deserve to feel emotions such as that, for he was a monster, a criminal, void of such emotions.

No linger willing to withstand this feeling, he left your apartment without looking back, with the mementos he took in his passenger seat, where you should've been. He drives back to his place and places your memories around his place. Next to that plant that you gave him that won't die. Next to your brightly colored IKEA drawers you put next to his dark mahogany one.

He isn't ready to lock you in a drawer, to leave you out back. Anger swirls inside him, because how could they take you from him, you have done nothing wrong in your life, you still had so much more to give this world and they took you away.

Why was it not him, he wonders, and he will never stop wondering. He never moves on, not celibate because he's not a eunuch, but he remains loveless, his heart reserved for you and only you.

If anyone brings you up in a less than honorable way, he rips their throats out. Nobody will taint your name, not even his, so he doesn't speak your name in public, to keep your memory pure and bright.

But in the dark hours of the night, as the clock ticks and the silence of the night is all to be heard. He whispers your name. Hoping it will bring you back to him. Even if in a dream.

However, if you were killed:

As he watched your body, lifeless. He feels his fists close, and his heart burn with fury. You had died alone, and likely frightened and he was not able to protect you.

His anger grows and his face morphs into one of pure unbridled fury.

Your killer had fled the scene, he did not know their motive, but he assumed it likely had to do with revenge against Gun himself.

He doesn't sleep, doesn't rest, not until he has the one who did it in his grasp. And as they beg for mercy, he reminds him he is the Shiro Oni, and since when was he known for mercy? With that, he burns their house to the ground, he makes sure that watch as he destroys everything they've worked for, watches as everyone leaves and they are all alone in this world.

Gun was never a man of mercy. He does everything in his power to make they're life one of pain and anguish. And only once Gun is satusfied does he let them die in the gutters of the world. In an alley on a cold rainy night, alone.

Once Gun has his peace he goes to your resting site. And prays to whatever God he can that you come back to him, or even to switch places with him. He could not live knowing you had died for him in a way, all alone, waiting for him to come save you, which he never did.

He almost cries reading your name, engraved into the stone, he almost yells into the night, cursing the world. But he doesn't. He carefully gets up, leaving your favorite flowers by your stone and he leaves.

He returns to his place where a box is on his doorstep. It's in your handwriting. He carefully brings it inside and places it on a table.

He stares at the box, curious and hesitant. He doesn't open the box for a long time for fear of what might be in it. Always looking at it as he passed it, but never opening it, nor moving it.

Eventually Goo threatens to open it if he doesn't and Gun pushes him out and locks the door behind him (Not that that will actually keep him out, but it's more of a symbolic gesture).

On a late night when he misses you more than other nights, he goes to the box and opens it.

At the top lies a letter to him, a handwritten letter explaining that this was to be sent to him should something happen and a letter expressing your love for him and your hopes for him to move on. Which he won't ever.

The contents of the box are composed of photos you've taken over the time you've spent together. Some of him, some of you, some of that bastard Goo (you definitely did that to mess with him). But there was also your most treasured ring which you never took off, your favorite plants with a sheet of care instructions next to it and a threat to have him killed should it die. There were also smaller knickknacks and mementos from your escapades together.

He carefully moved them around his apartment, plant here, random gaudy I ❤️ NY sign here, etc.

Once he reorganized his place with your items intertwined it felt like home once more. It felt like the home you always talked about late at night when you told him about your dreams and hopes for your future.

He would never move on, you were the only one he could ever imagine being with and nothing would change that.

Every night he would pray to whoever in hopes for your revival and return to him. His prayers would go unanswered, but life would move on.

He would move a few times, taking all of your memories with him to the new place, asking you if you like your new home, which always went unanswered.

He would die alone, as you had, but in spirit and memory you never left his side.

[niki-phoria]

AS THE WORLD CAVES IN

pairing: hyunsu x gn!reader (they/them pronouns used) genre: fluff (??) word count: 976

notes: wrote this so i had an excuse to use this gif sndsln, maybe ooc!monster hyunsu, not proofread so pls forgive any mistakes !!

summary: as the apocalypse continues to destroy the world, hyunsu finds himself making a deal with a monster to protect the person he loves the most - you.

there’s predictability in the mundane. comfort in what’s familiar. fear in what isn’t. 

hyunsu’s life has never been easy. how could it be? the days blended together. life was racing past him and all he could do was silently watch from the sidelines, seemingly forgotten by everyone. his parents. his sister. his peers. 

now, however, he finds himself longing for the past. 

he misses quiet afternoons with you laying in his arms in the safety of his apartment. he yearns to be trapped in the back of a stuffy classroom, scribbling down notes for you as your head rests against his shoulder. he longs for slurping down overcooked noodles because you were too busy dancing around your kitchen to keep track of the time.

hyunsu even finds nostalgia in being locked in a stuffy storage closet with you - hushed whispers of suspicion from your neighbours ignored in favour of the reassuring sweet nothings falling from your cracked lips.

but there’s no going back now, he supposes. 

the ground is unforgiving to your muscles as you curl your body even closer to hyunsu. his body feels overly stiff beside you, almost as if you’re lying beside a plank of wood. despite the cool wind blowing in through the cracked windows, hyunsu’s natural body warmth is a welcome change from the cold concrete below. 

“is this okay?” your voice is almost startling as it cuts through the previous silence. you’re almost overly aware of your side pressed against hyunsu’s - desperate for comfort but afraid of scaring him off.

“yes,” hyunsu nods. he moves before he can give himself time to overthink his actions, wrapping an arm around you. his awkward affection is more than welcome as you nuzzle yourself even closer to his body. 

a comfortable silence overtakes the room once again. this time, all of your comforting reassurances and words of encouragement are left unsaid - most of them already exhausted over the months of the apocalypse dragging on. 

searching for comfort, you reach up until your hand rests on hyunsu’s chest. your fingertips trail along patches of dried blood coating his ripped sweater until they meet his bare skin. sparks ignite along his bicep as you brush your hand against his body where scars should be.

hyunsu’s mind rattles. his voice rings loudly in his ears. unbearable. inescapable. 

they’re worried.

shut up.

talk to them.

hyunsu squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, the taunting remarks are true. he resists the urge to keep arguing, instead shifting his attention back to you. “what’s on your mind?” he whispers. 

the mindless drumming of your fingers pauses at the sudden intrusion of his voice in the silence. you shift slightly to look up at him, now resting your hand against his chest. splotches of blood decorate his features. he isn’t sure who it belongs to. disheveled bangs threaten to fall into his eyes, blocking his vision just enough to be a slight annoyance. you resist the urge to fix them in fear of making hyunsu even more uncomfortable by the sudden touch. 

“nothing,” you mumble. “just… glad you’re here.” 

hyunsu doesn’t reply. at least, not verbally. not yet. 

instead, he hesitantly pulls you even closer. shaky hands wrap around your body, maneuvering around you until your head rests against his chest. he freezes when you glance up at him; your wide eyes meet his own for just a second before you relax in his arms. 

“i’m sorry,” hyunsu murmurs. you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself - or perhaps someone else entirely - but you let him continue all the same. “for everything.” 

“it’s not your fault.” you repeat the words like a mantra. like a prayer. like if you repeat them enough, hyunsu will begin to believe them. 

it is, he wants to reply. but he doesn’t. instead, he lets your conversation taper out once again. you both silently agree to ignore the tension that lingers in the air, like smoke from a slow-burning fire.

hyunsu’s gaze wanders. bugs occasionally scatter across the floorboards of the decrepit room you’ve taken shelter in. poorly patched up holes decorate the walls and shattered glass from the windows litter the floors, though he supposes cleaning isn’t a priority in the wake of a monster apocalypse. 

a large mirror lying abandoned on the floor catches hyunsu’s attention. the glass shattered long ago, leaving a spider web of cracks in place of its previous pristine reflection. piercing blue eyes stare back at him. 

why won’t you go away?

if i did, who would protect y/n? a beat of silence passes. hyunsu clenches his jaw, grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly in his irritation. do you honestly think you’re strong enough to keep them safe?

don’t talk about them.

poor cha hyunsu, the voice chides. so protective, but so weak.

shut up.

relax. he mocks. let’s make a deal. you let me take over, and i’ll keep y/n safe.

hyunsu pauses. breaking his gaze away from the other version of him, hyunsu refocuses his attention on you once again. at some point your eyes had fluttered closed and breathing evened out. you must’ve fallen asleep in the silence, he supposes. 

you look beautiful, even amidst the chaos as the world seemingly caves in around you. hyunsu hesitantly trails his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand against your cheek. you look beautiful. he can’t lose you. you’re someone worth protecting - even if he has to rely on a monster to do it.

fine.

hyunsu ignores how his laughter echoes in his mind; an unfamiliar noise despite the voice being his own. instead, he presses his lips against the crown of your forehead - a silent oath passed from one version of himself to the other. 

i’ll protect you. i promise.

notes (cont): slowly returning to my sweet home phase bc i'm so in love with song kang skndsln small disclaimer that i have not watched season 02 !! so forgive any mistakes please <33

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or reblogging !! and if you want to support me, more of my writing can be found here :))

[ranticore]

so what exactly is a 'crawling beast of the earth' and why did harpies have to develop such extreme modifications just to defend against them?

nobody really knows what the crawling beasts are except the wyrms, and they're not telling anyone. the beasts take many forms but commonly they are eyeless and worm-like with large jaws but no mouths. they do not eat, they show no signs of intelligence, and it seems that all they do is crawl and bite. their bodies have a high heavy metal content and by their very presence they leach toxic waste into the earth around their burrows that destroys organic life. although nobody really knows what they are or where they came from, it's universally acknowledged that crawling beasts are not monsters or natural animals. monsters - not animals - are able to physically touch a crawling beast without being poisoned and you can kill one by ripping it to shreds, but the easiest way to kill one is to throw their bodies on a pyre.

in terms of behaviour they seem to show no response to injury or environmental stimulus but always crawl or burrow towards the highest concentration of large living creatures they can sense (through means unknown). if one gets within biting distance they will bite.. even if there's a layer of topsoil between you and them. they do not notice others of their own kind and can mindlessly form huge aggregations underneath villages or settlements, fouling one another until eventually the sheer volume and mass of the pile-up spills onto the surface.

the purpose of the beasties, in this setting, is to provide a common enemy that can be a catalyst for human and monster cooperation. they're kind of a macguffin that makes everything else happen, but i like them because they're undefined and terrifying for everybody. one big crawler will destroy a field of crops in one night and make the soil barren, and that can be the difference between making it through the winter and starving, in a small village. crawlers are the reason flighted harpies fear touching the ground. the whole land is infested with them (the sea, too) and their numbers are only growing.

for most harpies, attaining the size and strength (and talons) necessary to fight a crawling beast would reduce their ability to neatly and accurately forage or hunt their normal animal prey. so instead of everyone developing this weaponry, instead only one guy in a flock does, and thereafter he's the flock's bodyguard. kings suck at hunting and foraging. because even regular eagle harpies are naturally pretty big and pointy, they are the first choice for human falconers who want a partner who can swoop down, snatch up a crawling beast, and drop it on a fire. solitary monsters fare the best here since they usually don't attract any crawling beasties, except when they're pressganged by humans (or other monsters) into helping the general pest control effort.

only wyrms are known to hunt and eat crawling beasts.

[transhawks]

Why does everyone treat Hawks having always been an assassin as canon? I know he was brought in as a replacement for Nagant but as far as I’m aware there’s no actual proof he killed anyone before twice

You're right! We've never been explicitly told he has a kill-count of anything but 1 (rip Jin). However (honestly you knew this would make me actually write, didn't you?)....

1. The HSPC has changed (somewhat)

It's spelled out to us that Madame Prez wasn't like her predecessor. Her methods weren't as brutal, she was way into a war of information. In some ways, crueler. Kaina wasn't executed - instead she had her hair shorn and was defamed, humiliated.

Nagant assumes Keigo has been used like her. Horikoshi says Madame Prez groomed Keigo from a much earlier age than the middle school-aged Kaina so he had way less ability to leave or question (additionally, he was so sheltered from society and marginalized that he simply would have been incapable until he was an adult).

This is what the story says outright. So, yes, you're right - everything else is speculation. But then the question is why people believe this is canon outside of the typical abysmal literacy found in this fandom?

2. But Hawks being Hawks doesn't Make It Easier

Truth be told, I'm on your side. I used to very much doubt he had much of a body/kill count. I still think it might be single digits if we consider actually murdering someone with his own hands/quirk, though I suspect he might be responsible for deaths in other ways. I would have completely accepted Jin being his first (and only at this point) murder.

So why did I change my mind about this? Simply; Keigo's a fucking freak. I say this with love.

Every so often Keigo says or does something in this manga that both confirms he's kind of insane and in a very different moral space than everyone else, and just off-handedly mentioning he went and, after being subjected to third degree burns and essentially losing limbs, immediately went to eliminate every last sample even after the battle (where he was carried off by Tokoyami mind you) as in....destroying Jin's body or ensuring no one can use it. He's offended when it's clear Dabi got the better of him with this.

Mind you, he's the world champion at repressing his feelings, duh, but the fascinating way he speaks about this (a minute after screaming they NEED TO KILL JIN AGAIN) speaks volumes. Keigo's completely undaunted about handling death and its aftermath. If he's never killed before, he's been certainly trained to in a way that he handles it professionally.

There's one more thing that makes me think Keigo did kill before Jin. We can argue over how much Keigo hesitated killing Jin, but I think it's a point in that he did in how much he ABSOLUTELY does not with All For One.

Like he does not hesitate. Immediately tries to put a feather-knife through his brain. Logically, I mean, I think anyone would try to one-shot AFO because the more time the man that has (until he rewound himself) the more time he has to fuck you up, but still. He tries to stab through his man's head as soon as he gets out of the portal.

Here's Keigo just admitting it, albeit saying he expected it wouldn't work, but really, he's more apologizing he can't immediately kill this man.

No hesitance.

My final piece of evidence is that Keigo is currently walking around Japan in a suit with a katana begging mfers to "try it bitch". Like being quirkless, not a hero, none of that is stopping him if he needs to defend himself. And it's not like he can pin someone away with his feathers. Nor does he have dozens of daggers at his disposal anymore, just one blade. He's the type to try and finish things quickly as the manga has shown time and time again. I really hope no one actually tries to assassinate him because there's an extreme likelihood he'll just decapitate them in the SPC boardroom.

3. Red, Red Hands

To recap, we know Keigo has been trained to kill, in a multitude of ways (and not only with his quirk), and has always seen killing as option/tool he can use. The HSPC might not be as eager to kill as Kaina's era was, but they raised Keigo with the intent to use him to be able to kill people and cover it up. While there's no proof of other murders, there's proof he's been given the training, tools, and expectation to kill. And his attitude towards killing isn't making it seem like he's not done it before. Of course, he's not agonizing over it like Kaina, which makes me think he was used sparingly to kill.

But the other thing to ask is - will Keigo continue to kill (and not like in personal defense) or lead to the deaths of others? He's already set on reforming the Public Safety Commission by allowing for the reform of Villains who cooperate, renaming the Commission to distance itself from solely heroism... We're still a few chapters away of seeing what this new president has in store for society and how he'll distinguish his methods from the people who created him, but we also have two hundred and fifty chapters of him expressing dislike of how he's used, so perhaps it's fair to say he's not continuing the cycle?

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 5

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma and violence | masterlist

Your head whips into his direction, eyes wide open, heart racing. His shoulders are squared, shadows slowly dancing around him, his face unreadable, emotionless as he looks at you. 

"I wouldn’t know what there is to talk about." You focus your gaze back on the book, trying to ignore him. But he is like a nasty fly, he lingers and then draws closer.

"About us."

"There is no us!" You spit and whirl towards him, getting up quickly. "You destroyed us five centuries ago!"

"Y/N." Azriel reaches for you but you rip your arm away. "Please, let me explain."

"You betrayed me. You left me to die, Azriel." You channel all the energy you have left, straightening your posture, squaring your shoulders. "I don’t want to talk to you, Azriel, ever again. I told you I loved you and a day after you betrayed me. I don’t think there is anything to explain."

You are seething with anger, fire blazing through your veins, your heart aching so fiercely.

"I loved you too.” His voice is hoarse, his chest heaving with a deep inhale.

"You wouldn’t have betrayed me if you really did,” you snap.

Azriel lifts his scarred hands, then drops them and looks desperate. Gone is the strong and powerful warrior, his shoulders droop, his lips quaver. "There was no other choice.” He swallows and a shudder courses through his body. “Please, listen to me. Please, let me explain."

"I don’t want to hear your explanation! I don’t want to hear it!" You are screaming at this point. "I can barely breathe when I am in the same room as you. You make me feel like I am getting suffocated." 

Your shouts have been so loud, they alert Gwyn and Nesta who come rushing into the room.

The door swings open and Azriel whips around.

In an instant, Gwyn is at your side, your body vibrating so fiercely with anger and betrayal, she can feel it.

“What is going on?” Nesta asks, her voice kept level, but you can hear the anger and worry within her tone.

You feel how panic starts to rise within you and know that you have to get out. You are so close to breaking. You need to get out. 

“I can’t do this,” you breathe and before anyone can stop you you run. Past Gwyn, past Azriel, past Nesta, your heart racing like a horse in the wild.

You rush outside the living room, down to the Library. You need to get away. Away from Azriel. You can’t be near him, the pain over his betrayal breaks once again. 

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“What did you do?” Nesta questions Azriel. Her brows are furrowed, her finger poking into his pectoral.

“I tried to talk to her.” Azriel lowers his gaze.

Nesta bristles and so does Gwyn next to her.

“I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you, but what I know is that she is deadly scared of you and doesn’t want to be near you,” Gwyn says, frowning at Azriel. 

Azriel shakes his head, the void within his heart only growing.

But what she doesn’t know — what no one knows— is that he loved you. And maybe, finally it is time to reveal everything. To Gwyn and Nesta, and later to everyone else.

“We used to be lovers,” Azriel admits in a low voice. And then he opens up, tells the whole story about how you met in Illyria —not in the war camps, but in the Steppes. Your relationship was new and secret, not even Rhys and Cass knew, but somehow Rhysand’s father found out about you and saw you as a threat. And then it happened; he wanted you dead, worrying you could defeat him, overpower him, or get in his way. 

Azriel only had two options: your death or the Prison. Obviously he chose the latter. He would have done everything to save your life — even accept his own death.

“Do you understand why I need to talk to her now?” He is impatient, wants to follow after you, but the two Valkyries don’t let him.

Nesta inhales deeply, arms crossed over her chest. She turns to look at Gwyn and then says, “I don’t like the idea of you following her when she is so scared of being alone with you, but I think she needs to know the truth as well.”

It is all Azriel needs to hear. He brushes past Nesta and heads for the door. And then hurries to the Library until he stops at your door (he knows it is your door because he has been here before, followed you the other day but didn’t knock then).

His scarred knuckles rasp against the door, he inhales a deep breath and waits. Then he knocks.

“We need to talk, Y/N.”

He stands in the doorframe, not allowing you to close the door and it angers you. You want him to leave. He broke you. And now he stands here, thinking he can fix all the shattered pieces with a few words of apology.

“What I did was the worst I could do to you, but now that we got another chance I want to use it.”

Azriel is faster than you can react, sliding into the room, now standing right in front of you, so close you‘re breathing the same air.

“We didn’t get another chance, Azriel.” You move closer to him, despite what this does to your body. Despite the anger simmering within your veins, despite the wounds being ripped open once again. One by one, the pain is so strong it nearly makes you whimper. 

“Because there is no we.” You spit the last part, jaw clenched, forehead lying in furrows. 

It hurts so much, seeing him standing there, acting like what he has done is not the worst that someone could do to a person they allegedly love. He did not only break your heart back then, he broke your soul. And he broke the connection between the two of you.

You had felt it the first time you had laid eyes on him. You had felt it right in this moment – the bond. The mating bond, the probably most powerful connection between two people. 

But he had given you no chance to reveal it. You had wanted to wait for the right moment, then you had told him you loved him and the next thing you can remember is getting caught, people – males– hurting you and him hauling you away to the prison. 

You hated him in this moment. You have loathed him for that since then. But when you really think about it, you have to admit that hatred has never been the feeling in the foreground. It has always been pain. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal. 

You loved him, more than anything in the world, more than your own life and he did something like that to you. Hurt you like that. You could have never been prepared for a feeling like this. 

“I did it to protect you,” he whispers. His chin drops to his chest. “I never meant for it to happen that way, but I had to do what I did in order to protect you.”

You ignore him — not able to listen or wanting to listen to him. Your eyes are burning, the back of your mouth aching. You want to hit him, scream at him, but you are left without words. Your body feels exhausted, tired, empty. You want to sleep, and feel nothing. 

“Do you have any idea what was done to me in the Prison? What I went through. What I had to go through. What I suffered.” You finally speak up after a long moment of silence. Slowly you lift your gaze to him, wanting to see the look in his eyes. 

The former cold is now replaced by regret, remorse, his shoulders are slightly slouched and the corner of his mouth twitches. 

Slowly, Azriel shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I can imagine. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” His throat works on a swallow. “I wish I could have protected you from all the pain.”

“You are the one who caused me the pain!” you scream at him, each syllable dripping with betrayal and anger. “You broke me Azriel.”

“I did it to protect you,” he once again says and you want to tear his tongue out for saying this all the time. It is bullshit. He did it to impress the High Lord. He did it to create a good image of himself. 

The same thing you try now in order to regain your powers. You have to act good around the High Lord of the Night Court and his IC and once they trust you enough to give you back your powers, leave. 

“Y/N–” he starts but you cut him off. 

“Do you know what they did when they caught me? When your men caught me and brought me to you?”

You step away from him.

“I didn’t send them.” They weren’t Azriel’s men. They were Rhysand’s father’s men, but you don’t know that, Azriel realises in this moment. The High Lord had sent them back and he tried to be there before them, to save you from them, but he was too late and the damage had already been done. 

“I tried to be there before them.” He folds his hands behind his back, his chin lowering the slightest bit. 

You hold his gaze, tears burning in your eyes. Your hands move to your neck. 

“Don‘t lie to me.” You grind your teeth so hard, your jaw starts to ache. But you hold his gaze, withstand the urge to look away. You won’t give him that. You won’t be weak in front of him. 

Azriel swallows again and parts his lips, probably wanting to say another silly lie or apology, or probably trying to convince you he didn’t send them. But you don’t want to hear it. You lift your hand to stop him.

“Don’t lie to me, Azriel,” you say again. “Not after everything you have done to me.”

Your hands drop to the dress you are wearing and slowly you start to unbutton it. 

Azriel’s breath catches because he has no idea what is happening. HIs eyes are trained on you, he can’t look away. 

You peel away every layer of clothing until you stand bare in front of him. But this is not a sexual act and in his eyes there is no desire, no lust. There is only shock. Horror. Pain.

He is mortified by the look of your body. Your skin is marred, scars adorning every inch of it. The chilly air brushes your skin but you withstand it, having grown so used to it. The cold has slowly become you, you have become cold. Your heart has become cold, empty, dead. 

“That’s what they did, Azriel,” you tell him. “That’s how they treated me when they found me.” You let the dress fall to the ground, shivering the slightest bit, you still hold his gaze. 

You know what your skin looks like, having brushed your fingers over the marred skin many days, thinking about if you would ever be able to love yourself again.

But you have managed to do so. This is your body, your home, you temple, you would never hate it and the scars are only a testament of how strong you are, what you have survived. 

Azriel says nothing for a long moment. He only stares, stomach coiling, chest squeezing.

“That’s what the High Lord’s men did when they caught me. All these scars,” —you brush your sharp nails down your cleavage— “is what the caused me when they tried to catch me, using their knives and swords.”

Your throat works on a swallow.

“And then you arrived.” You move towards him, stepping over your clothes. “And I thought you came to save me, that the nightmare finally has an end, but you hauled me away and put me into the Prison.”

You move closer to him.

“Do you want to see what they did to me?”

He wants to say no, but he can’t. He has to see it. You had to go through it and live with it. The least he can do is see it, knowing it will break him apart, but it is what he deserves. 

“Show me.”

You slide your hand around his throat and slowly each sharpened, pointed fingernail digs into the flesh on the back of his neck, until you are inside – inside his mind.

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[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[thewhumpcaretaker]

💖 Whumpee in Dress Clothes 💖

There's such a unique feeling to dress clothes. I want to talk about characters having a bad time in them.

Getting dressed early in the morning. Waking up an hour early to take care with their appearance and fussing over every detail, getting frustrated with hair and makeup before they've even had their coffee. Struggling with buttons and zippers. The fear of being late.

Smelling like too much perfume/cologne, which is even worse if someone else chooses it and it isn't a scent they like.

A face covered in makeup bothering a whumpee with sensory issues.

The feeling of the fabric - obviously expensive, smelling like a dry cleaner's. Is it too nice for them, or is it perfectly fitted to their station? Either way, it makes them self-conscious.

Scratchy lace or wool.

Maybe it's light fabric, thin and gauzy. It makes them feel exposed. They can feel the air moving against their skin even without moving. They're at an evening event, shivering.

Or it's too heavy, layers of a vest and a blazer and an overcoat all in black at a funeral, and they're sweating, and their whole body feels heavy and constricted.

Collared shirts and ties that are too constrictive. Every second, they can feel that line of pressure at their throat, making it harder to breathe, making everything worse during a panic attack.

A too-tight bracelet or wristwatch. They can feel their own pulse and it's driving them insane. Such a fast heartbeat...

Constantly being afraid of sweating through a dress shirt or through delicate fabric. The fear just makes them sweat more.

The feeling of a vest wrapped around their torso reminds them how badly they want to be hugged.

Snagging a stocking or spilling something or ripping something feels like the end of the world. It makes them afraid to move.

It's even worse if it's their own blood that destroys those pretty clothes.

Shoes that pinch and hurt. High heels, or just hard, shiny dress shoes. Standing in them for hours. Being forced to run in them.

Everything somehow feels high-drama and performative. Embarrassment is heightened. If they're crying, they're not JUST crying, they're crying in a pretty suit/dress, which makes them so aware of how they look right now and how shocked everyone will be to see them break down. Maybe people have less sympathy for them because they look spoiled. They're not dressed for being miserable so they try to keep it together but they...can't.

This being the norm for a wealthy or royal whumpee. They don't even think about considering their own physical comfort because they think so much about their appearance instead. They end every day day sore and pinched and drained, and they don't even think to do things differently.