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downbad4sylus · 3 months ago

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“I told you already…you are home.”

(part 1, part 2, and part 3)

synopsis: Sylus and Zayne team up to save you from Caleb’s clutches in the final part of the Sylus vs. Caleb series.

content: sylus x afab!reader; use of Y/N; established relationship; tension; angst, lots of angst; caleb acts like caleb but worse; zayne cameo; mention of kidnapping; i don’t want to give too much away in the content, so you’ll just have to read it to find out; mostly proofread

word count: ~6k

tags: @blorbohunter @cordidy @sarangsylus @freddy-2002-blog (those i was unable to tag here, i’ve tried to tag in the replies)

a/n: here it is everyone, the final part :’) thank you to everyone who’s stuck through the journey to get here, i’m sorry it took so long but i wanted to make sure i ended the series the way it deserved. enjoy <3

If he had to reveal his true identity to any of your friends, Sylus was glad it was Zayne. He was the least likely to hand him over to the Association, especially knowing that, as a part of said Association yourself, you hadn’t done so already.

It was a tense ride from the hospital to one of Sylus’s many safe houses throughout Linkon. They said nothing to each other until they reached their destination, and Zayne finally broke the silence after walking through the threshold into Sylus’s high-rise, luxury apartment.

“Do I want to know?” he asked.

Sylus glanced over his shoulder at the doctor. “Would knowing change your willingness to help me?”

“I’m not entirely sure why you brought me along in the first place,” Zayne countered.

Sylus led Zayne to a closed door at the end of a long hallway. He turned, facing him as he crossed his arm. “I brought you along because you care about Y/N as much as I do, and because you have a past with both of them that could be used to our advantage.

“I’ll ask again, Doctor, is knowing going to change anything? Once we walk through this door, there’s no going back.”

Sylus saw the weight of the decision Zayne wrestled with in his hazel gaze. His patience was running thin, rescuing you from the Colonel’s clutches taking up every thought in his mind. It killed him enough to be in this apartment rather than following the tracker attached to your wrist, but he needed a level-headed plan first. The Colonel was intelligent, calculated, he would be anticipating Sylus coming after you, so Sylus needed to be several steps ahead to ensure you made it safety back into his arms.

“No,” the doctor said at last. “It won’t change anything.”

“Good,” Sylus said, spinning on his heel and bursting through the door. “Let’s get to work.”

Following Sylus through the door, Zayne was transported into another world.

Harsh, artificial light illuminated an entire wall full of guns, various crates scattered across the floor in front of them. Across from the array of weapons were numerous computer screens with live CCTV footage from what seemed like every corner of Linkon. Others displayed sets of numbers that meant absolutely nothing to Zayne, or radar-looking gps trackers. Sat at the desk below the screens were two men in matching crow masks.

Their heads turned in unison upon hearing footsteps approaching them.

“Luke, Kieran, this is Doctor Zayne, Y/N’s primary care physician,” Sylus introduced as he stood behind their chairs, red eyes flicking from one screen to another. “Play nice.”

“Yes Boss!” they harmonized.

Zayne was rooted to the ground feet from the trio. “What exactly…is all this?”

Sylus remained silent, too focused on what was in front of him to respond.

“Ever heard of Onychinus?” one of the masked men asked.

Zayne’s stomach dropped.

The other man jerked his thumb back toward Sylus. “That’s our boss.”

Zayne’s eyes widened. You were…dating the leader of Onychinus… The leader of the very organization he’d warned you against becoming a target of all those months ago. The leader currently holding the highest bounty on his head at the Association you worked for. And yet rather than turn him in…you fell in love instead? Zayne couldn’t help but marvel at the strange twist of fate, at the star-crossed lovers who’d still found a way to be together despite living in completely different worlds.

In that moment, Zayne was sure he’d put his faith in the right man. If anyone was going to get you back, to ensure your safe return, it was the man who had no problem doing whatever it took to do so.

“Are we good, Doctor?” Sylus asked, drawing Zayne’s attention.

Zayne met the leader of Onychinus’s striking red eyes. “We’re good.”

Sylus’s lips twitched upward. “Then let’s get to work.”

—

“Caleb!”

Your fists pounded against the locked door.

“Caleb!”

You sounded desperate, calling out Caleb’s name, and you were. The man who was meant to be your childhood best friend had taken you by force, brought you to some undisclosed location, and locked you in this room all alone. There was no way to leave this unassuming bedroom—the door was dead-bolted from the outside, the few windows were barred—and even if you managed to escape, you had no idea where you were and how to get home.

Caleb had you well and truly trapped.

You’d barely spoken during the long drive to your prison, too overwhelmed with emotion to even beg him to let you go. Caleb made futile attempts at normal conversation but had given up rather quickly when he realized you weren’t going to respond.

Now here you were, scared and alone.

Your pounding gradually weakened until you stopped entirely, sliding down the door onto the floor, silent tears doing the same down your face.

You had no idea what Caleb was planning to do with you here. You hoped you knew him well enough to say he’d never hurt you but mere hours ago you would’ve sworn on your Gran’s grave that Caleb would never kidnap you. The fear of the unknown was as overwhelming as your fear for the man himself.

Your fingers twisted the bracelet around your wrist. You wanted Sylus. Was this morning the last time you’d ever see him? Was last night the last time you’d ever fall asleep in his arms? Your last kiss. Your last I love you.

A cry bubbled in your throat and tore free, your shoulders hunching as sobs racked your body.

What if Sylus couldn’t find you? What if, despite all that was available to him, it wasn’t enough? What if you were trapped here forever, forced to live on the hope that you’d one day find your way back to each other?

A soft knock on the door had you scrambling away to the bed in the center of the room, clutching a pillow to your chest as if to shield yourself.

“Pip-squeak? I’m coming in.”

Tears still streamed down your cheeks as Caleb unlocked and opened the door, carefully entering the space. His brow buckled slightly when his eyes fell on you, taking in your wild, defensive appearance.

When he took a small step toward you, every muscle in your body tensed, something he did not miss, so he halted.

Caleb held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you, pips.”

You scowled at him. “Oh you’re not? You don’t think you’ve done enough damage already?”

He flinched. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I did what I had to in order to get you here. You wouldn’t have come willingly.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have!” you screamed. “You kidnapped me, Caleb!”

“That’s a harsh way of putting it pip-squeak.”

Fury erupted within you. “Harsh?! What the fuck would you call it then, Caleb? After you busted down Zanye’s door, forced him to his knees—our friend—before using your Evol on me in order to get me into your car? Then you drive me to the middle of nowhere and lock me in this fucking room? What the fuck is this other than a kidnapping?”

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut, warring with his own raging emotions. He didn’t want to lose his temper with you, but why was it so hard for you to see what he was doing for you? Why did you have to fight him on every single thing?

He took a steadying breath, knowing he needed to maintain control. “If you could just hear me out…”

“Hear you out? Why? Why would I do that?”

Why did you have to keep yelling at him?

Caleb advanced a few steps and you reacted instantly, snatching the alarm clock from the nightstand and holding it in the air, an unspoken threat. Not that you’d ever hit him, his Evol would ensure that, but it was the fact that you’d even try that sent a pang through his heart.

“Don’t you understand?” he pleaded. “I’m just doing this to keep you safe.”

“I’ve never been less safe than I am in this room with you,” you hissed.

And that did it.

Caleb snapped.

Fear skittered along your bones as Caleb transformed into the fierce, unyielding Colonel.

“You’ve never been less safe?” he questioned, his voice low, tone foreign. “Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you, Y/N? Everything I’ve ever done, my entire life, has been for you. To keep you happy, to keep you safe.

“I think about the past year, all the things I’ve done, staying away to ensure that when I came back for you, you’d be safe from the danger I worked so hard to eradicate for you. And what do you do, Y/N? You fell in love with the leader of Onychinus.”

“What did you expect me to do, Caleb?” you snapped. “I thought you were dead. Did you expect me to mourn you for the rest of my life? To never make another connection to what? Honor your memory? Alive or dead, you don’t fucking control me, Caleb. I’m free to fall in love with whomever I want, leader of Onychinus included.”

Caleb stalked toward you. “You just don’t get it do you? You’re mine. You belong to me. You always have, since we were kids. I’m the only one who knows how to take care of you. I’m the only one who can keep you safe.” He ran a hand through his hair, his face softening as he reached the bed where you’d coward against the headboard. “You’ll come around. We have all the time in the world here, and I’ll prove to you that I’m all you need. I’m all you’ll ever need.”

Your body trembled so hard the headboard rattled against the wall. “Caleb, I want to go home.”

Caleb smiled and your stomach sank.

“You are home.”

—

You decided to go on a hunger strike.

All day Caleb slaved in the kitchen, cooking your favorite dishes, only for you to refuse to eat altogether once he set the feast in front of you.

“Come on, pips,” Caleb urged, sounding more like your friend now than the Colonel. “You have to eat something. I made all your favorites.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grumbled.

“Okay, but you still need to eat.” Caleb grabbed your empty plate and piled it with a little of everything. “Just a bite.”

You looked at the food laid out before you, then at Caleb. His eyes were wide, pleading. In his own twisted way, he was trying his best for you.

Maybe if he hadn’t taken you, you would’ve given in.

But he had, so you didn’t.

Instead, with eyes trained on his, you slid your hand under the plate and flipped it off the table.

Gravity caught the plate—food and all—midair and Caleb never broke eye contact. Not as the mess was brought back to the table, placed neatly in front of you, as if nothing had happened at all.

Caleb’s gaze hardened. “Just a bite,” he repeated.

You knocked the plate off the table again, and this time it clattered to the ground.

You snapped to your feet with such force the chair almost toppled over. “I said I’m not hungry.”

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’m not going to force you.”

You scoffed but didn’t deign him with a response. You stormed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom Caleb had locked you in earlier, slamming the door shut.

Caleb remained seated, staring at the mess on the floor he’d have to clean up. He didn’t care about that though, nor the wasted food he’d spent hours making. He cared about the way you’d looked at him, like he was a stranger. Like you wanted nothing to do with him.

He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but he was prepared to fight for you. He wouldn’t be giving you up anytime soon.

—

He should feel bad, watching you like this, but he couldn’t muster any guilt.

Caleb had cameras everywhere, both inside the house and out—well almost everywhere. There were no cameras in the en-suite bathroom attached to your bedroom, that was one line he refused to cross. And if you walked into the bedroom clad only in a towel, he would turn away and wait, giving you privacy to change in peace.

It was imperative that he know what you were up to when he inevitably returned to the Fleet, the feeds available on an app on his phone. He also needed to keep an eye on the maze, to make sure a certain crime lord wasn’t attempting a rescue mission. Caleb knew it was a very real possibility, and he was as prepared for it as he could be, going as far as to have a secret underground entrance at the back of the house for him to come and go unseen.

But right now, Caleb needed to gauge how well you were handling this new arrangement.

Not well at all, actually.

You were curled on the bed, sobbing.

The sight had Caleb clenching his fists, using every bit of self-control to not storm into your room and gather you in his arms. But doing that would only upset you further, and if Caleb had any hope of you coming around, he needed to keep his distance.

So he just sat and watched with a sorrow-filled heart, reminding himself just a little longer.

—

Sylus hadn’t slept for more than an hour or so for days.

He’d returned to the N109 Zone with Zayne, Luke, and Kieran, where they’d been working nonstop coming up with a plan to rescue you.

The tracker within the bracelet Sylus had given you went dark before you’d reached your final destination. However, Sylus only purchased the most sophisticated of technology, and the tracker passed through several jammers before entering what was likely a dead-zone. It wasn’t ideal, but it narrowed down the area in which they’d have to search. Because the Colonel had taken painstaking measures to ensure you were not found, it took several scouts—both living and mechanical—to finally locate where he had taken you.

A compound, was the best way to describe where you were locked away. An intricate hedge maze lay before the structure itself, and Sylus had no doubts it was riddled with traps. The structure looked like a house, innocuous, unassuming, but again, Sylus knew better than to make such a naive assumption.

He expected nothing less from the Colonel but that didn’t mean Sylus wasn’t going out of his mind. With rage at the Colonel for taking things this far. With worry for you, and what you were going through. With impatience for how long this was taking.

Having Zayne around was a cooling balm to his ever tumultuous emotions. A voice of reason when Sylus was on the precipice of destroying another piece of furniture. He’d readily accepted the whirlwind of being whisked away to the N109 Zone. He’d actively participated in the organizing and planning of the scouting missions as well as the rescue mission. All the while remaining calm, clinical even. Sylus would be forever grateful having the doctor by his side.

Now, with all the information they could possibly gather, as ready as they’d ever be, Sylus, Zayne, Luke, and Kieran left the N109 Zone and set out to rescue you from the Colonel’s clutches.

—

A week.

Seven days.

One hundred sixty-eight hours.

Ten thousand eighty minutes.

Six hundred four thousand eight hundred seconds.

Sometimes, a week felt like years, other times it would be over in the blink of an eye.

This last week had felt like an eternity. A never ending stretch of time.

You only knew it had been a week because of the scratches you’d etched into the headboard in the bedroom. Seven marks, one for each day.

For the first few days, Caleb stayed at the house with you. In spite of his persistent coaxing, you rarely left the bedroom, so he would adapt as he always did. Equipped with snacks and various drinks, Caleb would hole himself up in the room with you, putting on a movie and sitting in the armchair near the window at first, then slowly moving closer to you as your defenses lowered until he was on the bed. He still kept his distance, of course, but the fact that you’d allow him on the bed at all was progress in his mind.

Unbeknownst to him, however, you had ulterior motives in letting Caleb get so close to you. You’d become desperate rather quickly, not to escape but to kill the part of you that still cared about Caleb. That warred with your rational mind, trying to convince you that, while severely misguided, Caleb really was doing what he thought was best for you. You were tired of this devil on your shoulder. You often wished he would actually hurt you—on purpose—just so you could extinguish that stubborn devil’s flame. At least then you’d have a definitive, unquestionable reason to do so.

In the following days, though, Caleb left you alone until the evening as he needed to return to the Fleet.

You learned within the first hour of being by yourself that there was no chance of escape. All the windows were locked and barred, with no tool or object available to pry them apart or break them. Just like the windows, any exit was locked so tight the door wouldn’t even budge when you rattled the doorknobs.

All you could do was sit and wait for Caleb to return with your thoughts as your lone companion.

Despite the abysmal path laid ahead of you, you were hopeful that Sylus would soon come to your rescue. You didn’t know how he would do it, but if anyone could, it was Sylus. And when he did, when you were safe in his arms, you would finally listen to him—like you should’ve from the onset—and cut Caleb off for good. You had to hold on to this hope, you needed to see him again if only to apologize and admit he’d been right all along. Why hadn’t you just listened to him?

You often played with the bracelet around your wrist—the one you promised never to take off. It made you feel connected to Sylus, helped keep your hope alive. You’d also caught Caleb watching you fiddle with it and you hadn’t missed the displeasure on his face whenever you did, so, as another form of protest, you made sure to always be touching it. You wanted Caleb to know how much you thought of Sylus, how taking you from him had done nothing to diminish the strength of your love.

The sun was setting outside the barred windows, casting an orange glow throughout the house. On a normal day, Sylus would just be waking up, unless you’d gotten him to ruin his sleep schedule for the umpteenth time. You wondered what he was doing, and if he’d been sleeping at all since you were taken.

Caleb was due back anytime now. Dread sank like a stone in your stomach at the thought.

You retreated into the bedroom, burrowing under the covers. You weren’t in any mood to see Caleb’s face. He would come find you, of course, then invade your space, but at least you wouldn’t have to look at him.

The front door slammed open, making you flinch. Caleb’s footsteps were swift as he strode to your bedroom—

Then walked right by it.

Caleb always went straight to you when he got back, still clad in his uniform. He would greet you, ask you if you need anything, before excusing himself to change.

Another door opened further down the hall.

You were out of the bed and in the hallway in seconds. The door at the end—the one that Caleb sometimes slipped into after leaving you for the night but remained locked when he wasn’t around—was now slightly ajar. You hurried over, staying light on your feet as to not alert Caleb of your presence, and poked your head into the room.

Caleb stood with his back facing you, but you weren’t focused on him, no, you were zeroed in on the wall of screens before him displaying security footage from nearly every inch of the house, both inside and out.

Had he been watching you this whole time? Keeping tabs on you while he was gone and even when he was here?

Movement from one of the outside cameras caught your eye before your thoughts could spiral further.

The air whooshed from your lungs and your knees threatened to buckle.

You’d recognize that snowy hair anywhere.

Sylus.

Sylus had come for you.

Caleb whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise finding you standing in the doorway.

Your gaze snapped to his, determination blazing bright and fierce. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Caleb.”

His face twisted into a scowl.

He cocked the gun you hadn’t noticed, slipped it into a holster on his hip, and surged forward, throwing you over his shoulder before you so much as blinked.

“Caleb!” you screamed, fists pounding on his back and legs kicking against his abdomen. “Put me down!”

He made what sounded like a growl, his Evol locking your limbs in place to stop your struggle.

“Caleb please! Please, I just want to go home!”

Caleb barreled into your bedroom, hitting the door so hard it smacked against the wall. He unceremoniously dumped your body onto the bed, his Evol still keeping you immobile.

He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, fury and possession darkening his purple gaze. “I told you already,” he snarled, “you are home.”

He stormed out, locking the door behind him but you weren’t able to move until you heard the echo of the front door slamming shut.

Your body slumped and you couldn’t bring yourself to straighten, too defeated, too hopeless. Sylus was here, he was so close you swore you felt his presence, but you couldn’t go to him. You couldn’t run into the safety of his arms, or hear him tell you everything would be all right. You were trapped in this bedroom while there would no doubt be a battle to the death just outside this prison disguised as a home. And you didn’t know if Sylus would be the one making it out alive.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. How did you get here? Ever since returning from Skyhaven, your life had taken a turn for the worse. You were happy, you were loved. You never thought reuniting with the one person who had meant the world to you would end like this.

You barked a humorless laugh into the empty room.

“To think,” you said aloud, sounding crazed, “had the explosion not happened, I might never have met Sylus.” You laughed again. “Maybe this was doomed from the start.”

A sudden tapping against the barred window had you snapping to your feet and whirling around.

Hope dared to bloom in your chest.

On the other side of the window stood, of all people, your primary care physician.

You rushed forward, wrapping your hands around the bars. “Zayne?!”

He waved his hand, indicating he wanted you to back away.

You listened, going to the bed where you watched as Zayne coated the windowpane with ice, the glass groaning as it froze over. With a blast of his Evol, the glass shattered.

“Zayne, what’s going on?” you demanded, taking a step toward the window.

“Please give me a moment to get rid of these bars,” Zayne answered, holding up his hand to halt you. “I’ll answer your questions once I get you out.”

You stayed where you were as Zayne repeated the same process with the bars, coating them in ice and blasting them to pieces with his Evol once they were frozen.

He reached his hand through the open threshold. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He helped you through the window, making sure you didn’t get cut by any remaining broken glass. When your feet hit the ground, when you were outside, you could finally breathe again.

You started toward the front of the house, determined to find Sylus regardless of whatever brawl was happening between him and Caleb.

But Zayne caught your wrist before you made it too far.

“We’re going a different way,” he said. “The twins are waiting to bring you back to the base.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. You’d have to dissect hearing such a statement from Zayne later.

“I can’t just leave him here, Zayne,” you protested. “I won’t leave him.”

“And I won’t let you walk right into danger,” Zayne said.

You were so tired of being told what to do.

You fixed the doctor with the same determined gaze you had given Caleb when you first saw Sylus on the security footage. “Take me to him, Zayne, I’m not asking.”

—

Caleb shouldn’t have been surprised Sylus was able to destroy the maze, not even a trace of the damn thing was left. It was only ever meant to be a distraction and Caleb knew it wouldn’t stop the Onychinus leader, but he at least hoped it’d slow him down.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come after her?” Sylus questioned, raising a brow.

Caleb grinned something sadistic. “On the contrary, I was counting on it.”

Sylus frowned. “Very well Colonel, let’s finish this.”

Caleb, still with a smile, reached for the gun at his hip. However, Sylus favored melee, and was on the Colonel in the blink of an eye, throwing a flurry of Evol-laced punches. Caleb was forced to holster his weapon and meet the onslaught with blows of his own.

Gravity and energy were an interesting match-up. Though both Evols were immensely powerful, when pitted against one another, it was if they cancelled each other out.

Where gravity tried to bend and crush, energy consumed and nullified.

Where energy tried to rip and tear, gravity curled and formed a shield.

Black and red sparked, gravity swirled, creating a concentrated vortex of devastation around the two men.

If Caleb could just put some space between them, if he could just get to his gun, then this fight would turn in his favor.

But Sylus wouldn’t give him the chance. Every time Caleb managed to get a little distance, Sylus immediately closed it. Caleb grew frustrated, his control slipping.

Finally, finally, he hit Sylus was a strong enough blast of gravity to send the leader careening backward.

“Sylus!”

The sound of your voice had both men’s heads snapping to the side.

Zayne was there too, trailing after you, a look of apology on his face as he met Sylus’s displeased gaze. Sylus should’ve known you wouldn’t listen to the doctor and follow him to safety. Truly, he expected nothing less of you, but that didn’t mean he wanted you here, in the middle of danger.

You ran toward him to fight by his side. To face Caleb and put an end to this once and for all.

Caleb took full advantage of Sylus’s momentary distraction and once again drew the gun at his hip.

Then everything happened so fast. Too fast.

You were closer to the Onychinus leader than Caleb realized and when he pulled the trigger, it was you the gun was aimed at, not Sylus.

Sylus’s Evol wrapped around the bullet, intent on disintegrating it midair, well before it ever pierced your flesh.

Except this was no ordinary bullet. It was Evol-resistant, meaning Sylus’s black-red mist was useless to stop the bullet from sinking right into your chest.

How many times did he have to tell you not to throw yourself in front of him? He was your shield, not the other way around.

Sylus felt the bullet as though it’d pierced his own flesh.

Before you even swayed, Sylus erupted.

No one truly knew the power Sylus was capable of, not until this moment. His Evol was a force of pure destruction, wrapping protectively around you (and the doctor, as Sylus maintained the wherewithal to do so) only to wreak havoc beyond. He always said he’d burn the world for you if he had to, and he was finally making good on that promise.

As fast as the eruption started, it ended, silence settling thick in the air. A mile-wide black-red scorch mark covered the earth, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

It was impossible to tell whether the Colonel was amongst the devastation or had managed a miraculous escape, but Sylus couldn’t care less as he rushed toward where he’d carefully lowered you to the ground.

He gathered you in his arms, pressing hard on the gun wound to help slow the bleeding.

“Sweetie, please,” he begged, the desperation in his voice foreign to him. “Please, stay with me.”

Zayne fell to knees, already assessing your condition with clinical precision.

“I need you to get the bullet out,” Sylus demanded. Before Zayne could respond, Sylus had his phone out and to his ear. “Get over here, now.”

The loud squeal of tires echoed as the twins gunned it down the convenient 1.2 mile stretch of barren land to where you lay unconscious in Sylus’s arms.

They were there in less than a minute, screeching to a halt. With a prepared medkit in hand, they were out of the car and passing it to Zayne within seconds.

“Get the bullet out,” Sylus snarled. “Once it’s out I can heal her.” Far quieter he said, “Please.”

Zayne wasted no time, slipping on gloves with practiced ease before grabbing the tweezers to dislodge the bullet. You got lucky, so unbelievably lucky that the bullet didn’t pierce your heart, Zayne estimated it missed by about an inch. It didn’t mean you were in the clear, but if Sylus could heal you like he said, then you just might have a chance at surviving this.

Years of working under pressure kept Zayne’s hands steady despite the terror coursing through him. He didn’t want to lose you either, couldn’t even bring himself to picture a world without you in it.

The tweezers closed around the bullet and Zayne slowly pulled it free, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Sylus’s Evol wrapped around you once more, his power flowing through your wound, healing you before he lost you in this lifetime.

“Don’t leave me, Y/N,” Sylus whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

—

You were positive you were dead.

The last thing you remembered, after getting shot, was being consumed by hellfire.

To be honest, while you were a little sad, you had no regrets as long as Sylus made it out alive. Perhaps you could plead with whatever god watched over the afterlife to tell you if he’d made it. Surely said god would take pity on you since you sacrificed yourself for your lover.

The afterlife was quite comfortable though, and it made you doubt whether it was hellfire you saw during your last seconds or something else entirely. You were surrounded by silk, cushioned by softness, reminding you of Sylus’s bed. Maybe you got lucky, maybe you were in heaven because laying in Sylus’s bed certainly felt like heaven to you.

The afterlife also had music, classical music to be specific. It played in the background, a gentle lull tempting you to fall back into oblivion but you were curious to explore this new world.

Your eyes fluttered open.

Heaven was more than just Sylus’s bed, it looked exactly like his room. Tears pricked in your eyes at the thought of existing here without him. Heaven or not, you wouldn’t be truly happy if he wasn’t by your side.

Swallowing your tears, you slowly sat up, surprised to find you were sore despite having passed on. Your chest ached where you’d been shot and breathing was a bit difficult because of it.

“Sweetie you really shouldn’t be moving so much.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice so fast you almost blacked out.

“Sylus?!” you cried.

There he was, in all his beautiful glory, brow creased with worry as he crossed the room over to the bed. He sank down beside you, and you felt him there, as real as he’d ever been.

You tentatively reached out a hand, your fingertips grazing the edge of his sleeve. “I— I thought I was dead,” you whispered.

Sylus’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Your doctor and I worked very hard not to let that happen, sweetie.”

“Zayne’s still here?” you questioned.

He shook his head. “Not at the moment, but he was.” With all the gentleness in the world, Sylus took your hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”

You blinked in disbelief. For you, it had felt like no time had passed at all. “Am I…okay?”

Sylus huffed a chuckle. “Yes, you’re okay. Zayne will come by now that you’re awake to give us a treatment plan.”

You groaned, flopping down onto the bed, much to the aggravation of your healing wound. “He’s always so strict.”

“He’s your doctor, of course he is.”

You glanced at Sylus, meeting those red eyes you loved so much. “What happened to Caleb?”

Sylus’s expression shifted slightly, as though this was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now. “Gone, as far as I can tell. There’s no trace of him.”

You waited for the wave of sadness to hit you, but all you felt was the smallest pang of regret. Not regret over what happened, but that maybe there was something you could’ve done differently to prevent the outcome.

“I’m sorry,” you said, squeezing Sylus’s hand. “You were right, the whole time, and I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry, Sy.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “I’m sorry it didn’t end the way you wanted it to.”

“All that matters to me is that I have you,” you insisted. “I love you, Sylus.”

He smiled again, looking at you like you held his entire world in your hands. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You averted your gaze, cheeks tinging pink. “This might be sudden, but after everything, I, um— Would you, um— Would you maybe want to move in together? You know, once we complete my doctor’s borderline authoritarian treatment plan.”

His eyes widened slightly. Then he laughed something genuine, the sound music to your ears. “You never fail to surprise me, sweetie.”

“Is that a yes?”

He brought your hand to his lips. “That is a resounding yes.”

For the first time since coming back from Skyhaven, everything felt right again. You might not have died, but being with Sylus was the only heaven you’d ever need.

—

The black hole was quiet, comforting.

It felt vaguely familiar, like he’d experienced something similar once before, or maybe he hadn’t yet? Time was hard to distinguish here.

There was peace though, around him, inside his heart. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this.

Yeah, the black hole wasn’t so bad.

He’d be okay here.

Bonus:

“I don’t know why you insist on packing everything, I told you I’d just replace it at the base.”

You huffed, placing your hands on your hips as you straightened from the box you’d been carefully packing. “My things cannot be replaced, Sylus, they are special to me.”

Sylus cocked a brow and held up a clearly neglected pen he’d found under your bed. “This is special to you?”

You gaped at him. “Ugh, you are so insufferable!”

Sylus laughed. “Better get used to it, sweetie, because you’re about be stuck with my insufferability.”

You stormed up to where he sat on the floor beside your bed, bending over so you were at eye level. You then placed a chaste kiss right on the tip of his nose. “Good, because I don’t want to live without it.”

Sylus smiled and cupped the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his for an impassioned kiss. “And I don’t want to live without you, my beloved.”

#love and deepspace #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus angst #l&ds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace angst #l&ds angst #lads angst

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clown420cunt · 5 months ago

Text

Feel the music - E. M x fem!reader

Summary: Travelling in the hazy world of rock n roll in the minds eye of two buzzed heads, turn sensual with the only witness being the darkness and speakers swimming around the room.

Aka you and Eddie got stoned and make love™ to Led Zeppelin, enjoy.

Warnings: Implied drug use (weed), if the mentioned is triggering please do not read.

Tags: Eddie x Fem!reader, established relationship,sensual smut, making love, fingering, oral!female receiving, p in v sex(wrap it before you tap it).

Masterlist - AO3

Not beta read.

Word count: 857

Minors!DNI

��——————————————————————

The lights are off and it’s so warm.

The heavy feeling of an arm slung over her midriff is the most present feeling she’s feeling, next to the soft shield of the two duvets shes buried under.

Led zeppelin is playing loudly through speakers, the submerging sound of the bass thumping through her ears as the drums and guitar join in and transports her away from the bed and into the darkness.

Every note can be heard and the vibrations the instruments make flowing the room making her one with the music.

Eddie stirrers and the floaty feeling fates from her body and into her head again, making all movement seem sluggish and slow.

He hugs her tightly, breathing into her neck.

The high had started to fade and make both of them sleepy and dopey, swinging in the blissful space just beside consciousness.

The effect of the drug still holding onto her fussy brain making everything soft and warm.

He’s hands are moving onto her thigh and squeezes slightly, the warmth of his palm travelling to the forefront of her senses.

Mixing with the soft and comforting feeling the duvet cocoon is bringing.

Soft lips are placed on the nape of her neck, small butterfly kisses running along the seam to her back.

Fingers sliding across the flesh of her thigh, coming to lay on the soft mound.

Small touches and pets sending waves supply over her body making it vibrate.

The hand continues its movements running under fabric and settling in the same spot as before.

The kisses stoped, leaving the ghost of kisses at the top of her back, his warm breathing turn into goosebumps that run down her spine.

Vibrations following fingers that slights between folds with a tentative touch, waiting to see if the advances would be rejected.

No such rejection is displayed and the journey is continued.

Fingertips placing soft pressure up and down her clit, a soft sound is released as the sensation travels to toes and back up spins and past lips.

A shift from behind leaves her body to tilt on her back, creating easier access as legs move apart with the new position.

The duvets are pushed aside and soft circles are drawn, knee moved as a figure rises to a sitting position.

Dark eyes catches hers, a pair to disappear in.

The fingers run lower catching her wet entrance, playing with the edge before exploring further.

Back and forth playing her like the guitar in the music still flowing through the speakers.

Circling before entering her once again, two digits this time finding the spongy spot before the dark orbs move with his head as for a second all she sees is the dense dark curls as they decent.

The next feeling is of his wet tongue gliding over the sensitive bundle of nerve.

Floaty feelings of pleasure registering on her brain as small mewls and quiet breathless moans try to fill the space left between heavenly bass lines and beautiful guitar song.

In a flash her leg is lifted and he places himself between her thighs and it doesn’t take long for the floaty feeling of weed to mix with the pleasure of his wet muscle and skilful fingers to have her fall apart.

The electricity running down her legs making her toes curl.

A heavy hand making its way to unruly curls, pushing when the feeling gets to be too much.

He rises, using a hand to push his hair out of his face before it travels to his boxers to push them down and allow his hard member to spring free, in need of attention.

Wet fingers grab the base and travel up to use the leftover slick.

Pink dick leaking pre cum and getting mixed with her fluids in his hand.

A groan sounds out with the movement, mixing with the bass in a way that can’t be described.

The deep sound scratching the edges of her mind.

Pumping an extra time before settling at the base again to guide and slap his dickhead against her clit before inserting himself all the way.

The fullness is heavenly and welcome as he starts to pull out and thrusting back in.

Pulling her legs up and around his waist so he can lean forward and hold her.

Their lips meet, locking in sounds and grunts in their embrace.

Wet slaps and muffled whines create new notes to the chords of the album coming from the stereo.

His soft tip running along the sensitive spot inside her, the feeling of his girth stimulating her hole has her feeling used and satisfied in the best of ways.

Squeezing him as he slams his sensitive head to the deepest part of her being, releasing his seed as he stops his movements and holds her tight.

Feeling her heartbeat and the warmth of her skin grounds him as the floaty status in his head mellows to a blissful breeze.

Shifting back to lay down, the duvets are placed back over them as they both finally surrender to the darkness.

The last song fading out along with their consciousness.

———————————————————————

The album i imagine played was Led zeppelin’s self titled (The First one).

Have y’all ever gotten stoned and put on a Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd vinyl? That shit slaps! You can actually visualise the music 😩

Also this is a little indulgent ngl, it turned out way more sensual than I expected.

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #fanfiction #fanfic #also posted on ao3

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fleurhcss · 1 year ago

Text

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Hyunjin x FEM Reader!

cw : photographer Hyunjin, needs a muse, reader and him will meet in his exhibition, blood, murder, nudes, sculpture classes, dead body tw, if you are sensible pls don't interact, MDNI. SENSITIVE CONTENT!

sw : blood kink, hair pulling, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, anal, oral (both receiving), riding, humping, teasing, touching, masturbation, blowjob, marks, biting, choke kink, they'll have sex covered in blood.

wc : 9.025

synopsis : Hyunjin's a photographer and meets reader at his own exhibition. He falls in love with her beauty and the way she talks about art, so he proposes to her to attend his sculpture classes and then, after some of them, to be his model for a nude photography project, which will lead them to have sex. One day, she arrives before the appointment and begins to explore his study, finding a cupboard where he keeps all the heads of the girls he has seduced before her. But she's not afraid, she's excited. After a few minutes he shows up, catching her in the moment and she tells him her little dark secret, so they set up a murder and then fuck in the bloody mess.

a/n : hii... that's the first time for me writing here and writing in English so PLS im sorry if there are some errors!! I hope u enjoy this anyway 🎀🎀

PART 2

MASTERLIST

[ SMUT / TW ]

You have always been an art lover, which has led you to visit many exhibitions over the years. Photography and sculpture were your favourite subjects, and you have lost count of the number of exhibitions you have visited in your lifetime. However, it was a bit of a contradiction that art was not what you studied. You were a student of anatomy at university, which of course helped you to understand the human forms you so admired and loved to create. Although your studies were far from your true passion, you couldn't help but attend the private lessons that were often advertised in flyers around the city. That year alone, you attended no less than five classes, loving the way your hands shaped the clay beneath them. Its softness, the way it escaped your touch when wet: it was smooth, soft, elusive and malleable. Almost unpredictable, one might add. Once, because of a few air bubbles, you had to redo your work because it had burst in the kiln. Yes, one of the great faults of clay was its ability to burst if it was not perfectly formed. You were like clay, unpredictable. But you also loved the unpredictability of a photograph, the immediacy of a shot. The reality it represented. It was no coincidence that these were your favourite subjects.

You were walking around, sipping your caramel milkshake, after a long and tiring day at university. The music was on your mind, you imagined yourself in the scenarios that the soundtrack was transporting through your ears, but nothing could have distracted you from the sight of a giant billboard announcing a photography exhibition that weekend: The Art of the Body. This particular billboard had caught your attention not only because of the type of photography on display - nude exhibitions were rare in your town these days, too much of a scandal for the citizens. You were different, you appreciated every single muscle, every single feature of the human body. - But also for the way in which that body, unclothed, had been immortalised. Enclosed in a net that did not completely cover it, the woman's features were fully visible; she looked almost like a sculpture because of the contrast between light and dark.

You were enraptured by the image, your thoughts had clouded your mind, you had barely paid attention to the name of the photographer who was going to present this exhibition. But you didn't care, the subject matter was already of great interest to you. Nude photography by those who could not understand or feel it was considered almost scandalous. You found it a contradiction because very often the same people who criticised this kind of photography were the first to admire sculptures of the calibre and genre of Michelangelo's David, who, by the way, was naked.

For you, this kind of photograph was just like a sculpture. But warm, soft, even more real and expressive. You were sure that you would love that kind.

When you got back to your flat, the first thing you did was take a shower. It was the most plausible option after a long and tiring day, not least because you would have to clean up the mess left in your kitchen. In fact, by the time you found yourself having to clean it up, you were starting to get bored, so television would have been a good idea for entertainment at a time when all you wanted to do was sleep. You watched the news, and once again the topic of the day was the countless missing girls in your area. You wondered what was going on and why so many girls had mysteriously disappeared in a matter of days. There were no traces of mysterious serial killers, or even traces and statements from the victims themselves, if there were any. They had not been seen with anyone, nor had anyone talked about them. They had nothing in common. Or at least the police had not been good enough to find out. Well, in fact, the police had failed miserably from the start with the story of these girls' disappearance.

After all, there were no traces of the girls, and you had to clean up quickly because of the stench that was starting to fill the room.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Finally, the long-awaited day of the exhibition had arrived, and you were excited just to think that you would be able to see such works live, even more so if they were all close to the one on the poster that had caught your eye. You were well dressed for the occasion, you wanted to make yourself presentable. You were also excited to meet the artist. You hadn't read the name, you weren't even interested in meeting him, but as the days went by, your curiosity grew and you did some research to find out who the man was: he was a young man - well, very young - his name was Hwang Hyunjin, a photographer and professor of sculpture. You were very interested in that because those were your two favourite subjects. So you had to admit that you had made yourself beautiful in order to look like that in the eyes of such a man. Also because you had seen pictures of him on some magazine covers and on the Internet, and you had noticed that he was indeed a handsome man. Maybe even more than handsome. He himself seemed to be part of a collection of sculptures.

His features were delicate but masculine, his body seemed well proportioned and he was tall and lean. He had dark, feline eyes and lips that were sure to drive all the women who had ever met him crazy.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and, after spraying on your ever-present perfume, you left the house, heading for the exhibition. It was Saturday night, the streets of your city were crowded, kids ready to go to some club, men with wives were ready to go to dinner. Saturday night chaos was, as always, inevitable.

You found yourself having to turn down your best friend's invitation to some club just to go to this exhibition. But she understood, she knew how much you loved art and you hadn't missed a single one of these exhibitions that came to your town every year. It was true, you had never missed one. Once you even got a cold and covered yourself well with a huge scarf and a heavy coat. Unlike the way you were dressed today. A tight black dress that stopped at mid-thigh, a long black coat, your beloved lace-up boots and a chignon that gathered your hair delicately. You were truly charming.

When you arrived at the exhibition, you immediately took a glass of red wine that was offered to every visitor. You were enchanted by the splendour that surrounded you. Photographs of all kinds: coloured, black and white, bodies covered in nets, naked bodies, bodies covered in liquids - water, blood - lying in the soil , all one with nature. But the photograph that struck you the most was of a body whose head could not be seen and it was crushed below the knees, while a long stream of blood was falling on it. It was strange, the photo was in white and black, well contrasted, sharp, but the blood had not lost its colour: warm red, carmine. You could feel its density, its fluidity, through the photograph. It had given you goosebumps.

A warm, but not too deep voice distracted you from your thoughts.

«This painting is called Passion's Flood.»

You turned to see the boy you had been searching for, for the past two days, and your mouth almost fell open.

His beauty was even more ethereal in person. The complexion of his skin was almost golden, and those eyes seemed to bore into you. The articles were not wrong, this was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was elegant, refined, attractive. You didn't even know what adjective to use to describe him, to do justice to such beauty. You were so dazzled that you almost forgot everything you wanted to say to this man.

«Why this name? More to the point, why the adjective 'passion'?» you said as soon as you awoke from your almost trance-like state. The words slipped from your tongue, as did your curiosity as to the real reason for this choice.

It was strange to hear that such an image had been given such a name. You were curious about the definition of 'passion' for this man. Why it was associated with the image of blood. That rich red liquid dripping onto a naked body, accentuating the shape of the woman portrayed. This made the man behind you smile. He approached you and studied you carefully. He examined you from top to bottom. From head to toe. It was inevitable that he would find you a beautiful, attractive, girl. He bit his lower lip and glanced at the work in front of you, then shifted his gaze back to the subject of his interest: you.

«Interesting question, I see you also pay a lot of attention to the names of the works.» your eyes were fixed on his lips, watching them move at the sound of his voice. How he licked them and made them shine. Perfectly swollen and red. Watching him had become more interesting than watching his work. «Inevitably, the intrinsic meaning of the work itself could be understood from the name, but it is interesting how you used the adjective 'passion' to describe a body covered in blood. The work itself is interesting, it is rare to see something like this in an exhibition. You have a fascinating mind, Mr. Hwang.»

This only inflated the ego of the man at your side, who wasted no time in positioning himself in front of his own work. He flashed a smug, satisfied smile, interested in how your mind was working at that moment. He could not stop the instinct, the primal instinct, that inevitably drew him to you. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time and crossed his arms over his chest, allowing the fabric of the jacket he was wearing to fit better over the obviously defined muscles. «Call me by my name. I don't think there's much of an age difference. In any case, the definition of 'Passion Flood' in this case refers to the fact that passion can flare up in any way, at any time. The association with blood is not only because it automatically brings to mind a warm colour, such as bright red, but also because passion flows in our veins, in our blood. The blood itself evokes the heat, the impact, the sensation that passion can give us. A unique adrenaline rush. For few.» you were enchanted by the way his mind worked, the man was a genius.

Not only was he good at shootings, but the way he spoke to you, the tone of his voice, was like a mermaid to a sailor. He would lure you out to sea and then grab you by the tail. His piercing gaze was as if he wanted to trap you and drag you down with him.

«Your definition of passion is interesting, Hyunjin. I can also say that this definition fits perfectly with the way you create your works. If I may say so, this photograph is extraordinary, perhaps one of the best in this exhibition so far. After all, passion is what you do. Photography is in your blood, it is your passion. Art itself, right? Looking at this photograph, I can see the body of the liquid, the vivid colour and the contrast with the chiaroscuro of the body. I can see the softness of the flesh, its silkiness.» When you stopped talking, the man in front of you licked his lips, pleasantly pleased with what your mind could conceive in terms of art.

«Your mind fascinates me, ...?» he paused, clearly inviting you to tell him your name. You felt the blood boiling in your veins, a heat permeating your body. As if him had set it on fire. «Y/N,» you whispered, once again entranced by his beauty. You were sure he had bewitched you somehow. His charm was beyond anything else. Hwang Hyunjin was not just an artist, he was art itself.

«Do you also work in the field of art?» he asked, moving dangerously close to your body. Your mind went blank, he was far too close. You could not say a word. He was like a magnet, the closer he came, the closer you wanted to be. It was crazy how a man could have such an effect on you, who had always declared yourself a woman who would not be intimidated or subjugated by men. But with Hwang Hyunjin it was different. You were under his spell and would let him do anything to you just to feel him near you.

«I take anatomy classes, but in my spare time I take classes in photography and sculpture. Let's say they are my biggest passions», you could see his eyes light up when you said this. That was his moment. Hyunjin could not fail to use this moment to invite you to one of his classes. Yes, among the thousands of things Hwang did, there were also private lessons in sculpture and photography. And you could not help but be delighted, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. The one and only, the magnetic Hwang Hyunjin had personally asked you to join his sculpture class.

As he walked towards you, your bodies colliding, you found yourself squeezing your legs together, you felt a jolt penetrate your intimacy. His lips came to your earlobe and caressed it, «I expect to see you there, Y/N».

Needless to say, when you left that night, all you could think about was Hyunjin's pointed hands running over your body.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

It had been a really tough week at university, you had to dissect several bodies and your placement was about to start. You were going to be a trainee in a forensic laboratory, so your lectures were now harder and the level of attention they demanded was higher. However, the thought of attending evening classes that Friday, taught by Hyunjin - the man who had been on your mind for the past week - helped you relax.

Your best friend was aware of the little fixation you had developed with the man and often used it to tease you. When you told her you were going to meet him in class that evening, she made so many dirty jokes that you wondered if it was still her. But other girls had disappeared in those days and she didn't want you to be one of them. So she was worried. As you prepared to go to class, she had given you more advice than your mother had given you in your entire life. In fact, you felt like a daughter, a little girl to her. It was obvious that you would be careful, you wanted to return home safely.

So you prepared and made yourself beautiful, just to impress the man of your thoughts, and then you left the house, leaving a trail of fruity perfume behind you. That evening, even though the occasion was nothing more than a sculpture class, you had dressed well. You had on a light sweater that left a strip of your belly uncovered, burgundy with vertical stripes of fabric. Loose, baggy jeans below your navel and flats that matched the colour of your shirt. But the breeze that had risen that evening had forced you to put on your beloved leather jacket.

Your hair was loose, falling over your shoulders as one hand held the strap of the bag tightly. You were eager to see how Hyunjin taught during his lessons, eager to see those hands you dreamed of every night on you, running over the fresh clay, shaping it, imagining it to be your body. You were curious to see what this evening would bring, whether it would be as interesting as you thought it would be, or whether it would be a total disappointment.

Arriving at the location indicated on the flyer Hyunjin had given you, your eyes met the moment you crossed the threshold of the hall. He stood out like a marble statue, his hair tied back in a ponytail, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and baggy jeans covering a pair of brown and white Nikes on his feet. The piercing in his eyebrow made his gaze at you even more captivating. You entered, bowed and took your seat. They weren't all taken yet, surely he hadn't started because he was expecting a few more people to attend the class.

Behind him were blocks of clay and a table with all sorts of tools and materials for modelling. You assumed that he would be distributing these materials to the students himself, and were not at all surprised to find that most of them were women who were just as interested in the art as they were in the man who was going to teach it to them.

Your gazes were chained as if nothing could break it, it was only interrupted when Hyunjin realised that the hall was now full and it was time to start the lesson. He stood in the middle of the hall with a smile on his face, he was really handsome. He managed to be delicate and attractive at the same time. You were sure that this boy would not be easy to get out of your mind. It was clear that you wanted him more than you thought. «Welcome everyone, this is the first lesson of this course where we will cover the basics and modelling with clay. I have some tools here with me, after I give you a general introduction to the subject, I will hand them out to all of you, along with a lump of clay, so that we can begin the actual course.»

Needless to say, you lost focus after his introduction, too focused on watching his lips move and the vein in his neck throb. You watched his movements carefully, the way the fabric of his shirt occasionally allowed a glimpse of the hollow of his v-zone, the way the material of his jeans clung perfectly to his slender thighs. The man was a dream, and yet he looked like a demon disguised as an angel. His elegant, almost princely movements had managed to hypnotise you. You felt your body go numb and shot through with a long series of electric shocks, all of which landed in your stomach. The sexual tension you felt when standing next to Hyunjin was now sky-high.

It was Hyunjin himself who distracted you from your unchaste thoughts about him. He placed a series of objects on your bench and winked and smiled at you. That made you glow red, and not just on your cheeks. You felt a pleasant warmth spreading through your body and you weren't sure what it would lead to. Certainly nothing good in the state you were in now. «Good to see you here, Y/N.» he whispered in your ear, making you blush again. You lost your words.

As Hyunjin took his place behind a table with all the materials needed to mould the clay, it was fascinating to watch how his wet hands began to caress the block, softening it. Kneading, massaging the malleable material. But the thing that took your breath away again was the way his eyes locked on you as he spoke. As he explained how to handle the clay, as he squeezed it, as he moulded it in his hands, his gaze was fixed on you. You squeezed your legs together, and you were sure he noticed because of the smirk in his eyes. This made you even more embarrassed.

You watched as his tapered fingers created shapes, sweeping over the material, smeared with clay, to shape it to his liking. You wished you were that lump of clay. You wished he would touch you the way he did with that slippery material.

As you began to shape the clay yourself, you hardly thought about Hyunjin's fingers caressing you as you wished. Your mind was lost in the farthest reaches of your thoughts as you concentrated on shaping the lump. You hadn't even noticed Hyunjin watching your hands move as you did with his. His gaze devoured your body and hinted at what was going on in his mind. He was curious how those skilful hands would move around his member. It made him quite aroused, but he could not afford to have an erection in the middle of class by having unchaste thoughts about you.

As the classroom began to empty, the teacher greeted everyone politely and took the opportunity to approach you, who had not noticed anything, still lost in your world and the little statue you were forging. He positioned himself behind you as soon as the last student had left the room, and began to stroke your arms and blow on your neck. It was what brought your head back down to earth. You bit your lower lip as his hands moulded the clay with yours and his warm body clung to yours.

You found yourself gasping as his lips touched your lobe again. This boy would be the end of you, you were sure of it.

«You know, I noticed how your legs tightened at the sound of my voice. I also noticed your eyes burning into my form as I gave this lecture. I'm very curious to know what fantasies are running through your head, little Y/N,» he giggled, then washed his hands in the next sink and invited you to join him. And once again you were hypnotised, enchanted by his voice and his touch. When he took you by the hips, placed you on the only clean counter and spread your legs, you couldn't help but gasp. Words were dead in your throat now, you looked at him with bated breath and all you wanted to do was sink his face between your thighs. «Look what we have here, - he said, stroking your intimacy from above the fabric of your jeans, which he could feel were already wet, - there's no need for you to hide now. I got you,» he whispered again against your neck.

«Hyunjin... Please,» you murmured, your thoughts now clouded by the pleasure of his touch. «What? Tell me what you want,» he taunted you again. Your hand moved to his wrist and pushed it towards the crotch of your jeans. That drove him crazier than you thought.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down to your knees, his gaze resting on the crotch of your now wet panties. You felt no shame, the only thing running through your body now was the adrenaline of being fucked by this man. Your rational part had been switched off by the only one part that had to take over. «Look at you, I haven't even touched you properly and you're already all wet, you little whore. For now you'll be satisfied with what I'm going to give you tonight, if you're good enough you'll get another prize after this one,» your head had fallen back and your back was now arched. It was only with his words that he had been able to bring you to this state. Giggling, he moved the fabric of your panties with two fingers, the same ones that slowly began to massage your walls, while his eyes carefully scanned every corner of your body. You were going crazy, you wanted more and your grip on his wrist let him know it. «Look at you, so needy for my touch. I have a crazy idea that you can't refuse. I need this favour. No one inspires me, attracts me like you do. Be my muse and let me photograph this beautiful, unclothed body,» he whispered into your ear, pushing his fingers further between your pussy lips.

He did not penetrate you, but you were sure that only with this type of touch you could come. You nodded, reeling from the spell he had cast on you, and he smiled, pleased at the state you were in. He moved closer to you, not a kiss, just a bite on your lower lip and one in the hollow of your neck. Which made you quite dizzy with the sensation of his fingers now moving in a circular motion over your intimacy.

«Very good, Princess. Now why don't you cum for me? Like a good girl,» he whispered and began to move his fingers at a speed you didn't think possible. But your mind was clouded and you needed to feel under your hands how much he needed your touch too, so with a grin you grabbed the crotch of his trousers and began to move your hand up and down, feeling how great his length was. But there was no pleasure in doing this from above his jeans, so you inserted your hand into the fabric and with quick movements began to masturbate his intimacy. His moans were satisfying and made your head spin, you were almost in the same state. He growled, moving quickly on your vagina as you did with his member, now a moaning mess, playing with the tip of his member, stimulating it.

It was obvious that after a few minutes you would cum in each other's hands with a loud orgasm, and you did. You screamed her name as her teeth sank into the hollow of your neck, biting it. «I have no class on Tuesday, come here, to this address, my long awaited project will finally come to life,» he whispered in your ear as he licked his fingers covered in your juices, just as you licked yours, soiled with his.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

To say that you had been thinking about what had happened with Hyunjin all weekend was an understatement. The boy hadn't left your mind for a second, nor had the feeling of his fingers over your intimacy. You were constantly thinking about what you had done and the desire to go deeper was alive and growing inside you. It was obvious that you wanted to be fucked by him, so much so that you almost forgot your own name. When Hyunjin was in front of you, all rational thought went out the window. When he had asked you to be his muse, a warmth had grown in your chest and spread between your legs. You couldn't wait to pose naked for him. To let his hands move your body as he wished. Even at that moment, his hands were touching you in your mind, as you rubbed against the pillow in your room, with another news report of a missing girl in the background. But your mind was too busy thinking about Hyunjin to listen to how this girl, unlike the others, you had actually seen in the course of sculpting that the man you dreamed of every night was taking.

When you reached your orgasm, certainly not like you did with Hyunjin's hand, you decided it was the best to take a shower. The next day was the big day you had been looking forward to. You were going crazy. Your best friend had called you to find out the details, but you still hadn't told her what had happened between you and Hyunjin, you would when you maybe had sex fully. Also because that was what you had hoped for most. To hear how he wanted to fuck you. You giggled to hear how she imagined possible scenarios for your encounter, if only she knew how far you had already gone.

When the time and day finally came for you to meet Hyunjin for 'his long awaited project', you couldn't help but feel the shivers running through your body. You wore your hair in a slightly dishevelled bun, a tight black skirt covering you to mid-thigh and a slightly unbuttoned blouse with a burgundy lace-embroidered bra wrapped around your torso. Black boots on your feet and the usual leather jacket over your shoulders.

You gasped as Hyunjin's slim and elegant figure appeared behind you. He was wearing a blue silk shirt that showed his chest, tight black jeans and pointed ankle boots of the same colour. Sunglasses and a necklace surrounded the beauty already present in the man, and the loose hair falling down his neck made him even more attractive in your eyes.

His gaze gave you goosebumps; he approached you with an almost devilish smile and greeted you with a kiss on the lips. At that moment, you felt the ground give away beneath your feet. You looked at him as, smirking at the way he was making you feel, he opened the studio door and let you in first like a gentleman. «I see you've made yourself pretty for me, little Y/N. I like the way you're dressed, that bra fits you like a glove, it's a shame we have to take it off,» he whispered as he slowly removed your leather jacket and put his glasses elsewhere. His voice guided you, sending shivers down your spine. You noticed that all the materials he needed were already arranged in every corner of the studio and understood that he didn't want to waste any time in arranging what he needed. Kissing your neck, he began to remove your shirt, gently running his fingers down your arms and then your torso, then removing your bra as well, cupping your tits with his hands and massaging them, causing you to give a moan of pleasure that made you throw your head over one of his shoulders. «They are perfect, they have a wonderful texture, a perfect shape to be cupped by my hands,» he blew on your shoulder, biting it almost violently. But this action only made you moan even more.

Slowly he began to move his hands down, caressing the rest of your body, making you gasp as he pulled off your skirt and then slowly your panties. You were completely naked to his eyes this time. He bit his lip as he caressed every part of your body, from your breasts to your bottom, cupping and massaging one of your buttocks. «Like a good little girl, take off your shoes and lie down on this wooden hoop,» he said, and you obeyed. Without a word. You felt his eyes burning on you, like fire. You lay down in front of him and let him touch you in any way that would satisfy his desires. When he grabbed the camera, you squeezed your legs together, already feeling the effect of his intense gaze on you.

It made him laugh, but not in amusement. Not at all. It was almost diabolical. You saw how he approached you by getting on top of you and opening your legs, he began to watch how your pussy shrank around nothing, completely wet. This made him move his nose closer to it and blow on it. It had driven you so crazy that you not only let out a long moan, but arched your back so that your vagina was closer to his nose. And he grinned as he slipped two fingers inside you without warning, taking a picture just as your back arched again, your head fell back and your lips parted in a moan. « Very good baby, you are the perfect muse for this project. No one could have done as well as you,» he whispered as he pulled his fingers out from inside you and brought them to his lips, sucking away your juices.

You went crazy, your body was burning even though you were naked, craving his touch, his hands on you. Every time he approached to take your picture, you hoped he would touch you, something more than mere caresses. Even if they were not 'mere caresses'.

But when he put down his camera and caught up with you at a fast pace, you realised that maybe he didn't just want to take pictures. And in the end, that was what you were hoping for. He towered over you with his body, observing how perfect yours was. He caressed every part of you until he lowered himself to your lips and began a ravenous, passionate kiss. You moaned at the contact and his hands began to massage your breasts until, running out of air, he pulled away from your lips and then lowered himself to your breasts and sucked on them voraciously. Your head was elsewhere, you could do nothing but give way to his touch. Your hands were harpooned in his hair, pulling at it. Your legs tightened around his torso as his pelvis moved in search of yours. Hyunjin was mad. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins; he needed to release all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. «My bitch, that's what you are. Just fucking mine. And like a good girl you are going to feed me now,» he smiled almost maniacally as his face settled between your thighs. He had taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, which were now too tight to contain his obvious erection. You clutched his hair as he began to bite your inner thigh, leaving bite marks and bruises everywhere. But you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him between your legs.

Hyunjin began to take long laps on your cunt, spreading it with his fingers so that he could better slide his tongue between your walls. You were a whimpering mess, all too pleasurable. He sucked and moved his tongue voraciously, as if he really wanted to eat you. He pulled at the lips covering your clit with his teeth and then sucked on them almost violently. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't want to come like that, you wanted him to fuck you. «Please Hyunjin...mh...stop...it's too much, I'm about to come...!» you gripped his hair in a vice grip. But that did not matter to him, if it meant making you cum several times in one evening, he would do it without fail.

His mouth was harpooned between your walls, his tongue moving as if he were kissing you and not what was between your legs. You were going out of your mind and the closer you came to orgasm the more he felt it and went fast. «Fuck Hyunjin!» you shouted before cumming all over his face. Which pleased him by the way. He licked his lips and without a second thought started to kiss you again, so much so that you could feel yourself on his tongue. But that was not enough, he wanted you. «I'm going to fuck you so hard you have no idea. Now behave as well as you have so far and suck me off,» he said as he removed the last of his clothes. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his erection, certainly getting him all the way in your mouth would have been quite a challenge. You watched him ravenously, having dreamed of this moment for far too long. You began to slowly run your hand down the length of him, massaging his balls as well, you were slow, running your fingers along the veins and playing with his head. He looked exhausted to see you like that. His moans became louder. You smiled and took him in your mouth, all the way to his uvula. This made him tighten his grip on your hair, which was clenched in his hands. He pulled hard on them as he fucked your mouth. Your hands were tight on his thighs as you slid it over your tongue. You spit on the tip, then took it back into your mouth and ran your tongue along every vein. Concentrating especially on the tip. «You are fucking phenomenal. My good whore, keep it up, faster,» he said in a broken voice as he used his pelvis to push against your mouth.

It did not take many more thrusts before it poured into your mouth in hot streams. You stared at him intently as you swallowed the liquid. With a grin, now his umpteenth, he ran his thumb between your lips, cleaning them of his own seed and attacking them with an almost violent kiss. It was so quick that you didn't even notice when he slipped two fingers inside you and began to move them quickly as his member became erect again. Seeing you under him like that drove him crazy and he couldn't wait to fuck you the way he wanted to. He wrapped one hand around your neck, making you moan. You didn't know that these things could ever turn you on, but with Hyunjin, with his hands on your body, it was impossible not to. Soon his fingers became four inside you, and the way he twisted them inside you made you think he already knew what your walls looked like.

It was unexpected for you when you were turned over and positioned on all fours with him standing behind you, erupting like one of your many beloved sculptures. He rubbed his erect member against your entrance, making you shiver as only he could. «God, I can't wait to fuck you, if only you could see the way your butthole is clenching around nothing as I rub against you,» he grinned. But you could feel it, you could feel it all right. «P...lease put it in, I need it Hyunjin mmm - make it quick please, fuck m...e» by now you were beside yourself. Your brain was disconnected.

You heard him laugh, pleased that you felt so weak under his touch. But you couldn't help it; it was as if he had cast a spell on you.

Without a word, he thrust into you in one swift motion. You let out a moan, just as he had. He pushed your back down so that your face touched the floor. You were a fire, you felt your body burning and you just wanted more, more and more. «Fuck,» he shouted. He had your hair in his grip as he squeezed your buttocks and began to thrust into you. You felt the floor turn and collapse beneath your body. You felt full and also heard the sounds Hyunjin made. He growled as he thrust into you with dry, precise strokes. «You're so fucking tight and hot. I could come right now,» he growled thunderously. You couldn't answer, too busy enjoying the feel of his dick inside you. But you needed to feel him deeper, you wanted to feel all of him.

You moved your pelvis closer to his, driving him crazy, he bit his lip while you were a moaning mess, doing nothing but mumbling unrelated words to each other. You were going crazy, you wanted to feel him burning inside you, between your walls. «Fuck, yes, shit!» you heard him say as he held your pelvis tightly against his. The strokes were faster, you felt his cock touching your sensitive spot, stimulating it. You were sure it would not be long before you came. He pulled your hair hard towards him and with the hand holding your pelvis he began to push your body against his own, as if you were standing up. He tightened his free hand around your neck and you moaned at the lack of air.

«Plea...se Hyunjin... harder... faster... fuck the...re...» you said incoherently as he bit your neck, leaving an obvious signal. «Shut up, I decide.»

He whispered in your ear, then increased his thrusts. He forced you back onto the cold wood and you felt his body crush yours as he squeezed your neck and thrust into you at a relentless pace. It was impossible at this point not to let out a loud, high-pitched moan along with your humours.

«Very good, Princess. Now make me come, like a good girl,» he said, overstimulating you, by this time you had reached your limit, your body was weak. But the sound of his thrusts drove you even crazier. After a few final thrusts, you toothed in the hot, sticky fluid that filled your hole. You moaned along with him, riding out his orgasm as his seed dripped from your thighs. He growled and let go of you, kissing your shoulder.

You never expected him to clean you up by putting his tongue between your buttocks and licking away his own cum. This made you moan at his touch, causing him to giggle, which made his tongue vibrate inside your hole.

As he stood up and began to clean it up, including you, he leaned towards your face and blew on your lips, leaving a slow, passionate kiss. «I want you here this Friday, Y/N.»

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Days later, you were still thinking about the way Hyunjin had fucked you so well in the photo room. You couldn't get it out of your head. Even when you found yourself cleaning up the huge stinking mess you had made. That day you had made more of a mess than usual, you had to be more careful the next time.

When you had finished cleaning up the mess, you decided it would be better for you to eat: you had to cook lunch. The next day you were to meet the man who had been in your thoughts for two weeks. You couldn't think of anything else. Hyunjin really seemed to have cast a strange spell on you. But you didn't mind. Just like it hadn't bothered you to feel that his body was completely connected to yours.

After a quiet lunch you decided it would be best to organise your tools and materials, after this morning they were all in a mess and you hated mess. You had even left them out of storage the last time. So you stood patiently in front of your cupboard, arranging the duffel bag that you jealously guarded. Meanwhile, you wondered why the police still hadn't found anything about the girls. The number had increased enormously, and whoever was making them disappear had to be an expert to get away with it without leaving any evidence. You'd like to ask yourself who would ever be able to go unnoticed for almost twenty days while the police still hadn't found anything. After tidying up the mess you had made, you decided that it might be best to think about what to wear to meet Hyunjin tomorrow. You were extremely impatient.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

And there you were, in front of the usual studio. Where Hyunjin had arranged to meet you. You had dressed up, a black over the knee coat, your usual leather jacket, black boots and this time your long hair was over your shoulders. However, you noticed that the studio door was already open; maybe Hyunjin was already inside, just waiting for your arrival. You bit your lip, unsure what to do.

What would be wrong with going in?

So you did, but no one was there.

«Hyunjin?» you called, hoping that the man would appear before you. But curiosity got the better of you and you started walking around the studio, which was large but not too crowded. There were scattered tools, pieces of clay and photographic paper. But there was one thing that caught your eye. The door to a small room was half open, and from it came a strong smell that you knew too well. You were used to the smell. But you wondered why it was coming from the cupboard in Hyunjin's study and why you had never smelled it before, since you had been there twice before. So you went to the door, opened it and put your hand to your mouth.

You had just found the culprit behind the disappearance of so many girls in your town.

There were so many heads arranged in rows on tables, the blood had been cleaned off, but the skin looked intact, as if it had not decomposed. They looked like so many porcelain dolls. You started to get closer when you felt a presence behind you and your breath caught in your throat. «Someone found something they weren't supposed to see, don't you think, Princess?» you turned around so slowly that when you saw him covered in blood, an electric shock almost ran through your entire body.

But you were not afraid; your curiosity had overcome your fear.

«How did you make them so porcelain-like and not get caught?» you whispered as his body clung to yours, crushed against the wall. He chuckled, trying to see an edge of fear in your face. He was surprised to find none. That made you even more special and unique in his eyes. No one had ever been like you before. «Aren't you afraid? Ask me how I made them like this instead of running away and reporting me to the police,» he laughed. But you smiled, grabbed his hair and brought his face closer to yours. Lips on lips. «I'm not afraid. In fact, I'm curious. You made them look like so many disembodied dolls. Where did you throw their bodies without getting caught? It takes talent,» the answer made his eyes sparkle.

You were definitely different.

He grabbed you by the neck and tightened his grip. But you weren't afraid, you were sure he wouldn't hurt you. He was just angry because you made him feel different. Because it was you. You made him want you more than anything.

He slipped a hand under your dress, felt how wet the crotch of your panties was.

You giggled.

«You are different. You are not afraid. You're turned on by all of this, you sick little whore,» you laughed. At the top of your lungs. You pulled him closer with one leg and rubbed your pelvis against him, moaning. «I may have a dark little secret of my own, my dear Hyunjin. How about we take advantage of it?» you bit his lip. His head was spinning, he felt his hands burning. «First tell me about this dark little secret you little bitch,» you pressed your bodies together and felt yours almost catching fire, you wanted it. Again. At least you wanted him to make you come.

«Haven't you ever wondered why I take anatomy lessons when my passion is something else?» you giggled, leaving him confused. You were like him. «I love dissecting corpses even more when they are fresh and made by me, squeezing organs in my hands, and I would love to see them intact forever. Why don't you tell me your little secret? How do you make those heads like that?» you moaned under his touch, quickly rubbing your cunt against his thigh, wetting it. «You're fucking crazy,» he laughed maniacally and then began a fierce kiss, as if your bodies were about to catch fire. You continued to move on his thigh, moaning his name on your lips as you jerked him off over his trousers. All this was turning you on more than you thought. Your breath was short, you couldn't hold back any longer, so you let out a long moan, you on his leg and him in his trousers. It was fast but intense.

«How about cooperating, princess?» he laughed, still above you. «With great pleasure,» you whispered growling into his mouth.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

After that day, you invited Hyunjin to your house and showed him your collection. It was funny to see his surprised face. He never expected to see that side of you. That day, you orchestrated the perfect plan. Your victims had rarely been women, and his were all women. He also explained to you how he chose his victims, his modus operandi : he often went to this café frequented by students, and often heard these girls squawking like chickens and insulting art, a thing he revered. So did the woman's body. So why not get rid of them after seducing them and keep the body as a prize? It was a perfect idea in his mind. So he decided to prove it to you himself.

You stood at the table behind him and a certain Sasha, he had met her that morning when he brought you your coffee and decided that she would be the ideal victim. You watched as he tried to seduce her with a grin, running his hand down her back to her bottom. You bit your lip, a little jealous of the touch he was reserving for her.

When they got up, you followed them silently, already knowing where Hyunjin was taking her: at the back of his study was a large chamber where he carried out his murders and burned the remaining bodies: the clay oven, a very good idea, you thought.

Everything happened very quickly, the way he undressed her and she undressed him. You trembled. You hated to see the way the girl touched him. He was almost ready to fuck her when, with a wink, he moved you forward and handcuffed the girl's hands and feet. But she screamed in vain, the walls were soundproofed, Hyunjin really had thought of everything.

He took off your clothes, stroking your body, and put them aside with his own so they wouldn't get dirty. After all, it was impossible to remove blood stains from the fabrics. He bit your shoulder and patted your ass, then stood statuesque in front of the girl. You watched closely as he slit her throat with a sharp knife, splashing blood everywhere. And you flanked him as he opened her chest and began to harvest the organs that he would soon show you how to embalm. You loved it.

Soon a pool of blood spread beneath your bodies. You sat on his naked pelvis, as bloodied as he was. He brought the knife between your mouths and you did not hesitate a moment before licking the blood off the metal, crossing your tongue with Hyunjin's. His vermilion hands cupped your breasts, your thighs. Your body. You were the woman he adored. His muse. The half he shared his madness with. His illness. Your mouths met, you drew your lips together, biting your tongues. It was a fierce, ravenous, passionate kiss. Your intimacy rubbed against your naked pussy, wet and warm. You couldn't wait to fuck him. He bit your neck ravenously. As if he wanted to eat you. You loved the way he was so impetuous with you, so passionate. He drove you crazy. «How about we play a little princess?» he grinned, then put two fingers to your vagina and began to move them quickly. Your moans were disconnected and his lips were tight on your breasts, sucking on your nipples and pulling on them with his teeth. Your hands were harpooned in your hair, pulling at it. You definitely wanted more.

He entered you slowly, playing with your walls. As he licked the blood from your body. «Mhh, Hyunjin faster please,» you begged him, pressing your pelvis against his. You wanted more, you wanted him inside you. Your hand reached his intimacy and began to play with his glans, pressing your thumb on the tip so that he moaned. You loved seeing him like that under your touch, even more so when he was completely covered in blood. His hand reached your neck as you decided his fingers were not enough to satisfy you and stood up, sitting straight on his cock. This caused him to moan sharply. «Have a good ride, Hyunjinie,» you whispered in his ear. And he grinned. He took his fingers, smeared with blood and your fluids, into his mouth to lick it all off and then push it into your mouth, playing with your tongue as your walls adjusted to his thick length. You pulled your head back as he tired of waiting and gave a precise thrust inside you, gripping your neck tightly. You loved it when he did this. You began to jump up and down on his length, letting out moans that fortunately no one could hear thanks to the soundproof walls. Hyunjin bit his lip hard as you humped him. He loved the feeling of watching you riding him. He felt a unique warmth running through his body.

But he was tired; speed and strength were not enough for him. He made you lie down in that pool of blood, put his hands under your knees and bent your legs towards your breasts. He entered you with a precise thrust, as if he knew just the right spot to hit you, and your loud moaning let him know that was exactly where he needed to thrust. So with almost animal speed he resumed his thrusts inside you. He put your legs on his shoulders while he held your neck tightly with one hand and played with your clit quickly with the other. It drove you crazy. Your moans were now as uncontrollable as the times Hyunjin had cried out in pleasure. «Fuck Princess, how good you take me. Your pussy is perfect for me, so ,warm. You fucking hold me so well, you little whore,» he growled. You couldn't help but moan loudly at those words. You couldn't speak, every time you tried to say something the words died in your throat.

«I'm... coming... fucking H... Hyunjin for fuck's sake! Ther...e yeah!» you moaned one last time before tightening your warm walls around his cock. «Fuck I'm about to come too, squeeze me so fucking tight.» And he, now at the top of his lungs, poured hot streams into you, filling you. But he didn't come out; he decided to tear himself all over you as he filled you, letting his cum drip out of your cunt.

You stroked his long wet hair as he kissed your breasts. «You are mine forever, just know that,» he whispered, biting you. You giggled. «I wasn't planning on looking for anyone else after you, Hyunjin,» he smiled, then looked at you and licked a drop of blood that had fallen from your shoulder.

«I like you covered in blood.»

TAGLIST 🎀 : @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @sugarsweetsugarsweet @rylea08 @skzswife @hyunjinhoexxx @hyunjinnie2000 @boi-bi-ahaha @nanamongmong @yongbokkiesworld @hyunjinnnsgirl @reader1221

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dampfloks · 3 months ago

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SAXONIA – Die erste deutsche Dampflokomotive

Die SAXONIA war mehr als nur eine Lokomotive – sie war ein Meilenstein der deutschen Technikgeschichte. 1838 vom sächsischen Ingenieur Johann Andreas Schubert konstruiert, war sie die erste in Deutschland gebaute funktionsfähige Dampflokomotive. Gebaut wurde sie in der Maschinenbauanstalt Übigau bei Dresden – ohne konkreten Auftrag, aber mit großem Pioniergeist.

Ihr historischer Auftritt fand 1839 auf der neu eröffneten Leipzig-Dresdner Eisenbahn statt. Während britische Maschinen den Eröffnungszug führten, rollte Schuberts SAXONIA hinterher – als mutiger Beweis dafür, dass auch deutsches Ingenieurwesen auf der Schiene bestehen konnte. Technisch war sie ihrer Zeit voraus: Mit zwei gekuppelten Treibachsen und einer Laufachse bot sie mehr Stabilität als viele ihrer englischen Vorbilder. Ihre Höchstgeschwindigkeit lag bei rund 50 km/h – beeindruckend für die Zeit.

Nach knapp zehn Jahren im regulären Dienst wurde die SAXONIA 1849 ausgemustert und verschrottet. Doch ihr Name blieb: Sie gilt als Symbol für den Beginn des deutschen Lokomotivbaus und ebnete den Weg für eine eigenständige Eisenbahnindustrie.

Zum 150-jährigen Jubiläum der Strecke Leipzig–Dresden entstand 1988 in der DDR ein funktionsfähiger Nachbau der SAXONIA, der bis 2011 sogar unter Dampf fuhr. Heute ist diese Replik im Verkehrsmuseum Dresden ausgestellt – ein faszinierendes Zeugnis des industriellen Aufbruchs im 19. Jahrhundert.

Die SAXONIA ist bis heute ein fester Bestandteil der deutschen Eisenbahngeschichte – nicht nur als technische Errungenschaft, sondern auch als kulturelles Erbe. Wer in Dresden steht, sollte sich die Gelegenheit nicht entgehen lassen, diesem Stück lebendiger Geschichte persönlich zu begegnen.

SAXONIA – the first German steam locomotive

The SAXONIA was more than just a locomotive – it was a milestone in the history of German engineering. Designed in 1838 by the Saxon engineer Johann Andreas Schubert, it was the first operational steam locomotive to be built in Germany. It was constructed in the Übigau engineering works near Dresden – without a specific order, but with a great pioneering spirit.

Its historic debut took place in 1839 on the newly opened Leipzig-Dresden railway. While British locomotives led the inaugural train, Schubert's SAXONIA followed behind – a bold demonstration that German engineering could also hold its own on the rails. It was technically ahead of its time: with two coupled driving axles and a trailing axle, it offered more stability than many of its English role models. Its maximum speed was around 50 km/h – impressive for the time.

After just under ten years in regular service, the SAXONIA was taken out of service and scrapped in 1849. But its name remained: it is considered a symbol for the beginning of German locomotive construction and paved the way for an independent railway industry.

To mark the 150th anniversary of the Leipzig–Dresden line, a functional replica of the SAXONIA was built in the GDR in 1988, which even ran under steam until 2011. Today, this replica is on display at the Dresden Transport Museum – a fascinating testimony to the industrial awakening of the 19th century.

The SAXONIA remains an integral part of German railway history to this day – not only as an engineering achievement, but also as a cultural heritage. Anyone visiting Dresden should not miss the opportunity to see this piece of living history in person.

#dampflokblog.de #SAXONIA #Dresden #steam train #railway #dampflok #eisenbahn #stoom locomotief #steam locomotive #локомотив #lokomotywa #locomotive à vapeur #鉄道

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silent-stories · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: After years of building your band’s reputation as one of the most influential in the metal scene, you and your bandmates move to Los Angeles. What you don't expect, however, is that your new neighbors are none other than Bad Omens, and that Noah is a huge fan of your band.

Series masterlist

The moment you walked into the music store, the scent of wood, metal, and leather hit you, immediately transporting you to memories from your childhood. The sound of strings being tuned, the hum of drums being tested, and the rhythmic tapping of keys filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile.

It was like stepping into a sanctuary, the kind of place you’d lost yourself in for hours when you were younger. Back then, you used to wander between the rows of guitars, basses, drums, and amps, feeling like the world outside could wait. It was always easier to breathe in a music store. The chaos of the world seemed so much quieter when surrounded by instruments.

You took a deep breath, soaking in the atmosphere. The walls were lined with guitars—some old and worn, others gleaming with fresh paint. Amps of all sizes were stacked along one side of the store, while the percussion section was neatly organized just ahead. It was impossible not to be overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia.

Noah, walking in beside you, caught your eye with a grin. “Looks like you enjoy this place,” he said, his voice light, but there was an understanding in his tone.

“Yeah,” you replied, running your fingers over the smooth surface of a guitar, “it takes me back."

Noah nodded, a quiet smile on his lips.

"I'm sure I'm gonna come back here often." You added.

“Well, I’m glad we’re doing this today,” Noah said, looking around. “Let’s find that drum head and those sticks, yeah?”

You nodded, already feeling that familiar thrill of being surrounded by equipment you had no real need for but wanted anyway. You led him toward the percussion section, where you found a display of drum heads. They were all neatly stacked, with each one bearing different designs, sizes, and materials.

“Okay, so Jake mentioned he needed a new drum head,” you said, scanning the selection. “And he loves his gear to look good, so we need something that'll catch his eye. He’s really into the red and black combo these days. Literally, his entire wardrobe is those colors."

Noah’s eyes lit up when he saw the perfect one. It was a deep red with a black snake designed on it. “This one. This is perfect for him. It’s bold, but not too much. And the red and black thing? It’s spot on. I don't really know him but this thing screams Jake.”

"Oh, I like this one."

“I’ve been around Folio long enough to know what looks cool,” Noah said with a shrug, grabbing the drum head off the display and holding it up in front of you. “This one’s definitely the vibe.”

He handed it to you, and as your fingers brushed his, a jolt of electricity shot through your hand, making your pulse quicken. You smiled as if nothing had happened, your mind already working on what else you needed. “Now we need the sticks.”

You walked a few feet to the stick display, where a wall of different brands and styles greeted you. You picked up a few pairs, testing their balance in your hands, feeling the weight of them.

“Red and black?” Noah asked, still standing by the drum head section.

“Yeah,” you said, tossing a pair of black sticks back onto the shelf and picking up a set with a bright red finish. “These could work.”

Noah walked over, inspecting them as he grabbed a matching pair. “They feel good. Solid grip, and the weight’s pretty spot on. They’re not too light, but not too heavy either.”

"Since when are you also a drummer?"

"Trust me, you don't want to see me play. I only know a few things."

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “I hope he's gonna like these.”

You walked to the counter, briefly talking with the cashier and then you both made your way out of the store. The late afternoon sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over everything as you stepped back into the parking lot.

As you climbed into Noah’s car, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. There was something about being in a music store that always grounded you, and today, with Noah by your side, it felt even more meaningful.

He slid into the driver’s seat, tossing the keys onto the dashboard.

“Thanks for helping me pick this stuff out, Noah.”

“No problem,” Noah said, “It’s always good to help a friend."

The drive back from the record store was relaxed, the warm glow of the setting sun stretching across the road as you and Noah talked. Music hummed softly in the background, a low rhythm filling the spaces between easy conversation. The city rolled by outside the car window, but you barely noticed, too caught up in glancing at Noah from time to time.

At one point, as the playlist shifted to something slower, Noah glanced over at you, his expression curious. “You play guitar, right?”

You blinked, surprised by the question but not by the certainty in his voice—like he already knew. He was a fan, after all.

“Kind of,” you admitted with a small shrug. “Alex tried to teach me a bunch of times. He was really patient about it, but…” You grinned, “He never got far with me. I’m not exactly a natural. I'm probably better with a microphone.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s not what it looked like.”

You frowned, genuinely curious. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled softly, his gaze flicking briefly to the road before returning to you. “I’ve seen you play. Acoustic sets. You did that version of Ghost a few times.”

You felt a sudden, warm flush creep up your neck. “That barely counts,” you said with a laugh. “It’s just one song. And I stopped playing it a couple of years ago.”

Noah shook his head, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. You still did it. And you didn’t look half bad doing it, either.”

You scoffed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, I’d love to actually know what I’m doing someday.”

He didn’t reply, but his smile lingered, as if he knew something you didn’t. The music shifted again, the notes matching the golden haze outside, and for a while, neither of you spoke.

"Friend." That word kept echoing in his mind. He had said it so casually, without thinking twice. But now, it lingered with him.

It felt too much and not enough at the same time.

He had known you for just a little over a week, yet it felt like he had known you for years. And in some ways, maybe he had. But now that he was seeing you in person, talking and joking, everything felt so easy, so natural. It was effortless, like the two of you just fit. Like this was something that had been waiting to happen all along.

He loved the way you sang that song with him so much that he almost thought about taking a wrong turn to make the journey last longer. That song that in one way or another described you a little and that he knew he would never listen to in the same way again.

The front door creaked open, and Noah stepped inside his house, glancing around as he tossed his jacket onto the coat rack.

“Hey, already back from your date?” Nicholas asked from the couch, his legs stretched out lazily. He was lounging next to Matt, who was looking at his phone, but as soon as Noah closed the door behing him, his attention was on Noah.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, feeling the warmth rush to his cheeks. “It wasn’t a date,” he replied, trying to brush it off as casually as possible.

“Right, it wasn’t a date,” Matt chimed in “But you sure would’ve liked it to be.”

Noah shot him a quick glare, but his heart beat just a little faster at the idea. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

“We’re just friends,” he said firmly, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. But his voice faltered slightly.

“Yeah, you’re just friends…” Nicholas smirked, “But you sure as hell want it to be more than that, don’t you?”

Noah exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing as he leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling a little cornered by their teasing. “Hey, you two. Did you just team up against me or something?”

Nick chuckled softly. “I’m just saying,” he said, his tone light but laced with amusement, “you don’t come home with a smile on your face like that after spending time with a girl unless you’re really feeling something. And this hasn't happened in a long time.”

Noah paused. He knew what they were saying was true. He did feel something. Something he couldn’t quite put into words. It was too early for him to even figure it out, but there was no denying the way his pulse quickened whenever you laughed, the way his thoughts lingered on every conversation you had. The way he’d caught himself smiling after the drive back even if none of you was speaking.

But there was also the fact that you’d only just moved to LA. You were still getting settled, still figuring things out. He couldn’t assume anything, especially not after just one week. Besides, you had been nothing but kind to him, offering your company, your time—just as a friend. You didn’t give any indication that you felt the same way.

“She just moved here, you know? She’s probably just being nice, trying to make some friends. I don’t want to mess that up.”

As Noah moved toward the kitchen, he heard Nicholas mumble, “Dumbass,” under his breath, and Noah couldn’t help but shake his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t ready to admit anything, not even to himself—and for now, he’d take it slow.

You took a deep breath as you climbed the stairs, still holding the bags in your hands. You entered your room and set the items down on your bed. First, you carefully unpacked the drum head, the red snake design standing out vividly against the plain brown wrapping paper. It was perfect for Jake, and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

You set it aside before moving on to the sticks. They felt solid, the red finish a nice complement to the rest of the gift. You placed them neatly next to the drum head, the items now ready to be wrapped.

Once everything was in order, you headed downstairs, hoping to get some rest before you had to start working on the shirt designs again. As you entered the living room, you spotted Alex lounging on the couch, his usual smirk in place as he glanced up from his phone.

"So," he started, his voice teasing, "What did you do today? Besides, you know, buying gifts for our lovely drummer?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you took a seat on the armrest of the couch. "I just went out with Noah," you said, trying to keep your tone casual. "We went to a music store to pick up some things for Jake's birthday."

Alex’s eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you and Noah spent the day together, huh?" he teased, leaning forward slightly. "Was it a… fun outing?" He dragged the words out, clearly enjoying how the situation sounded.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "It was just a trip to the store, Alex," you said, trying to play it off as no big deal. "He was just being kind, helping me pick out the right stuff for Jake."

Alex’s grin widened, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh, sure. Just 'helping' you out. Look at you, getting all cozy with the neighbor." He leaned back against the couch, still smirking.

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "It’s not like that," you insisted. "We’re just friends. He’s just a nice guy, and I needed help picking out some gifts. That's all."

Alex raised an eyebrow, his teasing tone never faltering. "Friends, huh?" he said, dragging out the word.

You shot him a playful glare, not willing to admit anything. "I swear, you’re impossible," you said, standing up from the couch. "It’s literally nothing. We just went out to get some stuff for Jake’s birthday. End of story. I don't like him that way."

Alex chuckled softly, clearly enjoying teasing you. "Sure, sure. If you say so."

"Alright, enough," you said, rolling your eyes. "Now that I’ve dealt with your teasing, I’m gonna work on the merch. In my room. Alone."

You heard the blonde's laughter follow you until you closed the door behind you.

In the following days, things passed by in a calm, pleasant rhythm. You spent a few afternoons wandering around Los Angeles with Sam, Jake and William, exploring the city in ways that felt both casual and exciting. One afternoon, you strolled through Melrose Avenue, checking out the cool, vintage stores that lined the street.

There was this one shop, Wasteland, that had the most amazing collection of secondhand leather jackets and band tees from decades past. You spent a good chunk of time browsing through the racks, finding the occasional gem, and laughing at some of the ridiculous fashion choices from the ‘80s that seemed to make their way back in style.

Another day, you went to The Last Bookstore in downtown LA. The towering shelves of books, the hidden nooks, and the whimsical vibe of the place were exactly the kind of escape you craved when the city felt a little overwhelming. Sam had picked up a graphic novel while William flipped through a music history book, but you found yourself drawn to the vinyl section, running your fingers over the old records with a soft smile. It was a little treasure trove, tucked away in the heart of the city, and you found a kind of peace there among the pages and music.

As you walked through these different parts of the city, you were starting to notice something. More and more often, people would recognize you—fans of the band, or sometimes just music lovers who happened to spot you. It wasn’t something you had ever been used to, but it was happening now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill every time someone would call out your name.

It would start with a hesitant wave, and then someone would ask, “Hey, are you Y/N from Dark Waves?” Or “Are you a singer?” And before you knew it, you’d end up posing for a selfie, or signing a quick autograph, exchanging a few words with a fan. It was always brief, always pleasant, but it made you feel something inside, like you were on the right path.

It was a little surreal, honestly. Growing up, you never really expected to be recognized in places like this—walking through crowded streets, sitting in cafes, or shopping in quirky stores. Yet there you were, in LA, where it seemed like everyone had a chance to run into someone they admired. Each time someone approached you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. It reminded you of how far you’d come, of the countless hours spent working on music and building your career, and most importantly, it reminded you of the people who had helped get you to where you were now—your fans.

They were the reason you were living this life, the reason you had the privilege of playing music for a living. They were the ones who had supported Dark Waves through everything, and now, it was starting to feel real. You weren’t just in the band anymore—you were part of something much bigger, something that had a life of its own.

You had continued your routine of leaving food for the stray cat, just outside your garden. Every morning, without fail, the food would be gone, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction knowing the cat was eating. There was something comforting about it, even though you didn’t know much about the cat or its life. You just hoped that, at least for a while, it could count on the food you left out.

One night, as you sat on the couch, flipping through your phone, you heard a noise outside. It was faint at first, just a soft rustling, but it was enough to catch your attention. You froze, listening, and then the sound came again—louder this time. It was as if something had knocked into something else. Curious, you stood up, slipping into your comfortable hoodie to shield yourself from the chill of the night air, and made your way toward the door.

You stepped outside, the darkness of the night surrounding you. The street was quiet, save for the occasional distant car or the rustling of leaves in the wind. Your garden was still, and the only thing that seemed out of place was a small vase that had been knocked over by something. Your gaze darted toward it, and that’s when you saw him.

The orange cat, the one Noah had talked about, was there, darting away from the mess it had caused. His fur was a bit scruffy, and he looked thin—almost gaunt, as though he hadn’t been eating enough. There were patches of dirt on his fur, and his eyes darted nervously, as if he were expecting someone to chase him away. He was hungry. You could tell. And he looked like he hadn’t had an easy time of it.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, calling out softly to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here.” You crouched down, hoping to show him you meant no harm, that you just wanted to help. But before you could even take another step, the cat whipped around and bolted, darting across your yard toward the fence that separated your garden from the next.

“Hey!” you called after him, instinctively trying to catch up. “It’s okay, come back.” But your words fell on deaf ears. In the blink of an eye, the orange cat had jumped up and over the low brick wall separating your yard from the neighboring house—the one you’d started calling "Omens house". You watched helplessly as he disappeared behind a little brick wall in the corner of their garden.

Just as you were about to turn back toward your house, a low creak behind you made you jump. You spun around, heart thudding, to see the door of the Omens house opening slightly. Standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, was Noah. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, his voice thick with sleep as he drawled, “Are you trying to break in and rob us, or…?”

His long hair was a tousled mess, falling in loose waves over his shoulders, and his t-shirt hung rumpled, like he had been asleep minutes ago. His eyes, heavy with sleep but laced with amusement, regarded you with a sleepy kind of curiosity. The sight of him—barefoot except for a pair of ridiculous flip-flops with fake green grass covering the soles—almost made you burst out laughing.

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “No, no robbery plans tonight, I swear.” You gestured behind you toward the wall. “The cat—the orange one you told me about. He was in my yard, knocked over a vase, and when I tried to calm him down, he jumped into your garden.”

Noah chuckled, stepping closer until only the iron bars of the gate separated you. He squinted toward the wall you pointed at, as if expecting the cat to appear just because he was looking. “Yeah, he does that. Skittish little guy. He’ll come out when he’s ready. He always does.”

His calm certainty made you smile, but your eyes drifted down. You couldn’t resist. You pointed to his feet, your lips twitching. “I'm sorry. Are you seriously wearing those? And you call me 'weirdo'?”

Noah followed your gaze, then shrugged unapologetically, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face. “Hey, these are genius. Every day is a walk in the park. Literally.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, but it didn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, pointing at his flip-flops like they were proof of a crime. “Who even buys those?”

“I do,” he said, unfazed. He stepped back, making a grand show of spinning around like he was modeling high fashion. “Jealous? Don’t lie. You wish you had a pair.”

“Yeah, sure,” you managed, shaking your head.

His grin lingered as he rested his arms on the top of the gate, leaning slightly closer. “But about the cat, you’re doing good leaving food out. He’ll come around. He just needs time.”

“I hope so,” you murmured, your voice quieter now. “He looked so hungry tonight. I just…” You trailed off, unsure how to put the thought into words.

Noah’s expression softened, his voice warm. “Who would’ve guessed the singer of Dark Waves had a soft heart?”

You shot him a look, a grin tugging at your lips. “Who would’ve guessed the singer of Bad Omens walks around in grass flip-flops?”

His smile broke wide, laughter rich and easy. “Touché.”

For a moment, you stood there, the silence between you comfortable. The night pressed darkly around you, but the small pool of light from the porch seemed to hold you both in a world of your own. His hair framed his face in messy locks, and even though he was standing there in grass flip-flops with sleepy eyes, you couldn’t help noticing how pretty he was. It was ridiculous, really, but undeniable—effortless in a way that made your breath catch.

He yawned, a soft, lazy grin still lingering. “Well, goodnight, weirdo.”

You smiled back, feeling lighter. “Goodnight, nerd. Try not to trip on your lawn shoes.”

He blinked, a laugh bubbling up again. “Nerd?"

“If you keep calling me weirdo, I’m going to keep calling you nerd. Those are the rules.”

“Those aren’t real rules.”

“They are now,” you said with a satisfied shrug.

"Alright," He let out one more laugh, and as you turned away, the warmth of his voice lingered long after you reached your door. In the dark, even with the ridiculous flip-flops, he looked unfairly pretty.

The late afternoon sun was dipping low as you walked with Jake to the familiar front door of Noah's house.

You found the gate ajar and Jake didn't even hesitate when he pushed it open, entering their garden.

"This is the right time they report us for invasion of private property." You muttered, following him.

Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Jolly. His tall frame filled the doorway, and his eyes flicked between you and Jake with mild curiosity. He tilted his head slightly, offering a polite, if subdued, smile. "Hey guys."

Jake grinned. "Hey, man. We came over to invite you guys to something. Got a minute?"

Before Jolly could reply, footsteps sounded behind him, and then Noah appeared in the doorway. His eyes landed on you, and for a second, it was like there was just the two of you. He leaned against the frame, his long hair falling loosely over his shoulders. His gaze was soft as he took you in.

“Hi,” he said simply, his voice low, almost intimate.

“Hey,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jake’s eyes darted between the two of you, a slow, exaggerated sigh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Anyway,” he said loudly, breaking the moment, “I’m having a thing at our place Wednesday night. My birthday. Nothing big, just drinks and hanging out. You guys should come by.”

Jolly exchanged a glance with Noah, then nodded. “Sounds good.”

“You don’t need to bring anything,” Jake added. “Just yourselves. And Folio. You have to bring Folio. It’s just for fun, get to know each other, have a few drinks.”

Noah’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “We’ll let the others know. But yeah, I’m in.”

Jolly nodded. “Same here.”

“Awesome,” Jake said, clapping his hands together. “It’ll be good to chill.”

The conversation lingered just a moment longer and as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel Noah’s gaze follow you until the door finally shut behind him.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

WTMS Tags: @rumoured-whispers @klutzy-kay24 @concretejunglefm @thecoyotescry @kenjipepsi1 @amelia-acero @xxkittenkissesxx @moostress19 @respectfulrebel @super-btstrash-posts

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x y/n #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x musician!reader #noah sebastian x singer!reader #x reader #wtms #when the music speaks

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blueiscoool · 1 year ago

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Archaeologists Unearth Remarkably Preserved Marble Statue of Hermes in Bulgaria

Archaeologists led by Prof. Dr. Ludmil Vagalinski have unearthed a remarkably well-preserved marble statue in the ancient city of Heraclea Sintika, near Petrich, Bulgaria. The discovery, announced by the municipality of Petrich, was found within the underground sewer known as "Cloaca Maxima". Efforts are underway to delicately excavate the statue without causing damage due to its exceptional state of preservation.

Standing over two meters tall, the statue is believed to depict Hermes, a prominent deity in the region during ancient times. Prof. Dr. Vagalinski, speaking to "Archaeologia Bulgarica," expressed cautious excitement about the find, noting its significance not only as the best-preserved statue discovered in Heraclea Sintika but also in all of Bulgaria. He suggests that the statue was likely buried by city inhabitants following a major earthquake in the 4th century AD, possibly to safeguard their religious heritage during the rise of Christianity.

Archaeologia Bulgarica shared updates on the excavation progress via Facebook, revealing that the statue, crafted from a single marble block in the 2nd century AD, remains partially encased in dirt. Archaeologists have noted its resemblance to other depictions of Hermes, placing it within a known iconographic type. Similar statues are rare globally, making this discovery particularly unique for Bulgaria.

Plans are underway to carefully extract the statue from the Cloaca Maxima and transport it to the museum in Petrich, where it will undergo necessary restoration before being displayed alongside other archaeological finds. Prof. Vagalinski emphasized the challenges of preserving the ancient city's structures, especially those located on private property, where permanent conservation measures are limited. He highlighted the unexpected nature of the discovery, which came to light during routine inspections of the canal's condition.

The excavation team, which first uncovered ancient structures in the area six years ago, had placed protective barriers to secure the site. Upon closer examination, marble remnants were noticed, leading to the gradual unveiling of the statue of Hermes. Work on fully exposing and documenting the statue will continue in the coming days, offering new insights into the religious and artistic practices of ancient Heraclea Sintika.

#Archaeologists Unearth Remarkably Preserved Marble Statue of Hermes in Bulgaria #ancient city of Heraclea Sintika #Petrich Bulgaria #Cloaca Maxima #marble #marble statue #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman art #ancient art

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dustysalmon · 8 months ago

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 2

Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers, enforcer!reader Word count: 3.6k

Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?

Takes up at the end of episode 7.

Read on ao3 ⎜ Previous chapter ⎜Next chapter

The last time you had been in the city council building was for your graduation at the enforcer academy, years ago. As you are now led to the hearing room, the place strikes you as immense and comically shallow—just like it did the first time.

Beautiful, no doubt, but empty and cold, devoid of personality and humanity. The archives are the exception. You’d barely gotten a glimpse of them back then, but you had wanted to go back ever since. The immense room was brimming with books, artefacts, and knowledge dating back centuries. Piltover had its share of problems, but it had always been a remarkable city. Hextech had only confirmed that. It transformed the lives of Piltovians for the better, improving transportation, the use of technologies, healthcare. One day, you think to yourself with a smile, you’ll find a way to sneak into that room again. But alas, for now, your current position doesn't allow for such privileges. Your smile fades a little as a large, heavy door opens before you, and you are reminded of why you’re here.

The councillors are in the middle of a heated debate, apparently trying to determine just how tight to close their fist around the undercity’s throat. It has not escaped your notice that the citizens of Piltover were deeply shaken by yesterday’s events. The streets are empty, shipments are being delayed or even cancelled at an alarming rate, and some people have even started leaving the city. Not that you can blame them. The repeated clashes between Silco’s goons and the Firelights have gotten more frequent, just like the assassinations of enforcers. It may have been years, but no one up here or below has forgotten the riots.

You balance yourself on your feet as you wait for the councillors to finish. They don’t seem to be in a hurry. At some point you even wonder if they have noticed your arrival. You gaze absently at the dome-shaped ceiling, calculating how many yous it would take to reach it. So high and out of reach, disconnected. After a long minute, and with swift apologies, Councillor Kiramman gracefully puts you out of your misery. Among the people present, you can safely admit that she is one of the more grounded—well, as grounded as Piltovians can be, but she’s not afraid to swim against the tide when the need arises. Show of proof, you wouldn’t be there otherwise.

She introduces you to the other six members, states your rank, and your part in arresting Jinx. With minute details, you go over the events of the day before, the showdown between the Firelight leader and Jinx, the bombs, and the aftermath. The council has already heard from Caitlyn Kiramman this morning and you confirm Marcus’ betrayal. When councillor Salo inquires about the alleged deal between the late Sheriff and Silco brought forward by Caitlyn, you fail to suppress a light scoff, to the great displeasure of your interlocutor.

"Is there something amusing? Please, indulge us, officer, I do love a good joke in the midst of tragedy."

You clear your throat, arms crossed behind your back. "Respectfully, councillor, a blind man would have seen the connection." Salo fixes you with contempt, but leaves it at that.

"What about the gemstone?" He continues, "Officer Kiramman stated that it was the very reason she was meeting with Marcus, but there’s been no trace of it since then." You display your most convincing expression of surprise.

"I was not privy to the details of that meeting. It was only after my medical check-up this morning that I was made aware of the stone." The councillors exchange disappointed looks across the circular table. It’s been days since Progress Day, when the Hextech technology was stolen. Until last night at least Piltover knew where to look. Now, the Gemstone is in the wind, just about anybody could put their hands on it. True, the chances of this person actually being able to use the Hextech technology are thin but that uncertainty is far from satisfactory to the Council. On top of it all, it represents a tremendous economic hit for Piltover due to the colossal amount of third party investments revolving around Hextech. The city would recover eventually, but its reputation would be tarnished for decades to come.

Council members Medarda and Shoola follow up with more general inquiries about the riots, the protesters, and the arrests. Meanwhile, Bolbok and Hoskel seem more interested in moving on to more economic and trade matters. Jayce Talis, the man of progress himself, has not uttered a single word since you walked in, but his brain is buzzing, and you can see the restlessness in his posture, and the way his jaw tightens each time the others drone on about policies and regulations. Clearly he’d rather be anywhere else, crafting the next jewel of Hextech, running numbers, and solving equations alongside that curious partner of his. He’s not a bureaucrat, and at that particular moment, he’d much rather do the work than simply talk about it.

Councillor Kiramman asks you about the morale of the enforcers deployed. You can’t tell if the concern is genuine, or if this is all just political decorum. Either way, you gladly put in a word for more ample rations, surely that can’t be too much of a dent in the city’s budget.

At last, the interrogatory comes to an end, and a discreet exhale of relief escapes you as each councillor thank you for your service and presence. You are in the middle of excusing yourself when Salo cuts you off.

"One last question, if I may. Multiple witnesses confirm that Silco, the industrialist, was at the scene last night. Why not arrest him too?"

You frown, "On what grounds? The council itself concluded that he runs his…business by the book."

"True," he presses, tone unyielding. "However, after Marcus revealed himself as a traitor, one would think you would have reconsidered Silco’s true role in all this."

Normally, you don’t take kindly to being called dense, especially in front of an audience. But now isn’t the time to let pride get in the way. This testimony is far from routine; you need to tread carefully here. As far as Piltover is concerned, this entire operation is a no show. The city is on edge, its Sheriff exposed as a corrupt traitor, and the gemstone…well, that’s strictly need-to-know. The truth is, Piltover is not looking too sharp at the moment, and neither is the council. They are looking for a scapegoat. All things considered, you’d much rather appear naïve for a few seconds than be caught with the Gemstone in your back pocket.

"I’m an enforcer, not an investigator." You say with a slight shrug. "But I believe that Silco is more valuable to us down there than rotting in Stillwater."

Salo leans forward, curious to hear your input. "And why is that?"

"So far, save for a few dissidents, the people of the undercity have mostly kept to themselves. Enforcer presence at the border is only effective because the other side is not interested in making trouble. Yet. We’re not the ones keeping the undercity in check. And neither are you or your policies. Silco is."

Salo sneers. "And what a marvellous job he’s doing!"

You hold your ground, trying to ignore the mocking laughs rising around the table. "Surely I don’t need to remind you what happens when the underground is really out of control. This is nothing."

"Watch your tone, officer. Don’t forget your place."

You muster every ounce of self-control, taking a deep breath as Councillor Kiramman calls for a bit of decorum. You give her a quick, appreciative nod before continuing, "I made a judgement call, if you wish to punish me for it, that’s entirely up to you. Our orders were to stand watch on the bridges, and make arrests. Nothing more, nothing less."

Salo looks ready to press further, but Councillor Medarda’s patience is running thin as well. "I’m sure there will be no punishments necessary." She offers a composed smile, folding her hands together. "Once again, thank you for your time." She pauses, then seems to remember something important, and her smile sharpens. "Oh, I nearly forgot. Some good news at least. It seems you’ve been promoted." You stare at her, mouth agape and completely thrown off. "My congratulations, Major. You’ll be sure to extend my sympathies to Warren as well."

Of all the things that you expected from this meeting, this wasn’t even part of the honourable mentions. "Warren, ma’am?"

"He will be the city’s new Sheriff, of course."

"Of course." You echo, the words slipping out reflexively as your mind is still reeling. You nod absently, thank the council, and with a final glance around the room, you turn and make your way toward the large doors that the guards are pushing open for you. The corridor outside somehow feels even emptier than before, each step echoing as you replay her words in your mind. Major. You’d walked in here prepared to defend yourself—prepared for the occasional lecturing and patronising, maybe—but a promotion? That hadn’t even crossed your mind.

You decide to go all the way home on foot today—some fresh air might do you some good. So many events in so little time. You sigh. It’s not that you miss your old life—no, you wouldn’t go back for anything. But there was a rhythm to it, a familiarity. You did your part and did it well. Until the sickness made it unbearable. Here, everything feels out of reach, beyond your control. It’s not quite what you imagined. Not that you came to topside with the intent of sparking fundamental change or flipping the narrative. You would gladly call yourself an idealist, but you’re not delusional—something your mother would argue against. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you once thought you could make a difference, but that ship sailed long ago.

Unsurprisingly, the locals have deserted the food market today, much to the traders’ dismay. They linger behind their stalls, looking miserable, surrounded by products that will likely go unsold. Another week of nearly nonexistent pay, and most of this food will end up wasted. Maybe you can profit from that.

You treat yourself to a cheese sandwich and pick up some fruits and fish for the next few days. You approach the bread stall with a tinkle in your eye. A bit of small talk here, a few shared laments about the dire economy there, and you walk away with five huge pieces of brown bread—free of charge. The uniform surely helped a little too.

Taking an enthusiastic bite of your sandwich, you start making your way out of midtown, when you hear someone calling your name in the distance. The smile that spreads across your face as your eyes lock on the massive Vastaya jogging towards you is one of pure joy and excitement.

"Dren! I thought that was you!" You barely have time to set your grocery bags on the floor before strong strong arms lift you off your feet and spin you around. When he finally puts you down, Dren towers over you by at least a foot.

Like most Vastayas of his species, he boasts stunning purplish skin covered by a very thin layer of fur, thick jet-black hair, and vivid fluorescent green eyes—eyes you are convinced are twice as sharp as human ones, though he always denies it. Truth be told, you’re still a little salty about constantly losing shooting contests and training sessions to him. The two of you find the nearest bench and start catching up on everything that’s happened over the past four months or so, while Dren was in training. Eventually, the conversation shifts to the events of the bridge. You keep it brief, doubtful he wants to hear the gruesome details.

"What about you?" You ask, steering the conversation away. After the testimony just minutes ago, you’ve had enough of this topic for the day.

"Well…it’s official." Dren discreetly pulls a shiny paramedic insignia from his satchel. "I was just on my way to headquarters to pick up all my gear." You watch him as he gazes at the small object resting in the palm of his large, clawed hand, his expression transfixed.

"I’m so proud of you. I hope we’ll get to work together again, now that I—" You stop yourself mid-sentence, and Dren is too lost in his own thoughts to notice. This is his moment after all. Besides, the ceremony isn’t even planned yet—plenty of time to share the news.

"How’s Olenna these days?" The question jolts you out of your happy little trance. Dren is part of a very small circle of people who are aware that your relationship with your mother is complicated, to put it gracefully. He knows how painful it is for you to talk about her, but he always asks. He’s unapologetically direct and straightforward like that, which is one of the reasons you like being around him. He challenges you constantly, body and mind.

"Not improving," you admit with a sigh. "Not getting worse, either. At least, I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell." Dren nods silently, his green eyes fixed on you with a disarming attentiveness that always makes you feel both seen and vulnerable. When you don’t elaborate, he pats his hands on his thighs, and rises from the bench.

"Well then, I’m sure a nice dinner will do her some good. Her and you." You chuckle at the remark. It has been an intense few days for sure, and you can physically feel the bags pulling at your eyes and your entire body screaming with fatigue. You part ways after a long hug, him striding towards the university district, you towards the undercity.

They’re still scraping up blood and body parts off the main bridge; you’ll have to make a small detour. The protests have died down significantly, and from experience, you wager it will remain that way for a couple more days. Hopefully, you’ll be able to rest properly for once. You cross the southeast bridge without a hitch, a group of demonstrators throw nasty looks in your direction, but they don’t make any trouble.

As soon as you reach the other side, you smell it. The pungent, heavy atmosphere of the underground. A stench that gives every visitor, foreign or local, a clear picture of what to expect once they enter the undercity. The familiar tang of rust and oil invades your nostrils, and you automatically reach down into your collar to adjust the sensibility on your chemsurge. Here, the smells cling to everything—your clothes, your skin, your very breath. It takes a few showers to get rid of it; you’ve learnt that the hard when you started working in Piltover. All things considered, the promenade level is not so bad. At least the sun is still visible there, faint but persistent, piercing through the cloud of fog hovering menacingly above. But as you descend deeper into the city through endless flights of worn stairs, it gets darker and darker, until your surroundings turn a murky haze of green and brown. The only light comes from the old street lamps lining the path. Their glass casings are grimy and cracked, some sputter and pop as though they might burn out at any moment.

The alleys of entresol are mostly empty at this hour, but they’ll come alive with chatter, the clinking of drinks, and the inevitable clash of street brawls as the evening sets in. The sounds here are already louder, more chaotic. Voices echo through the narrow alleys, overlapping to create an overwhelming cacophony. Your gaze drifts towards the walls that are covered in graffiti. Beautiful murals, meticulously painted to retrace the history and pay tribute to the notable figures of each neighbourhood.

As you make your way through the industrial district, the faint hum of machinery fills the place, a blend of churning and groaning punctuated by the sporadic hiss of steam vents and the distant clatter of pipes. Workers pass by, their clothes stained in grease, sweat and coal. Their faces are weary, marked with exhaustion, yet there is an undeniable air of camaraderie among them. Cables and pipes crisscross above, dripping occasional beads of liquid onto your shoulders or the ground with a soft plink. The pavement beneath your feet is uneven, a patchwork of scavenged stone and scrap metal, slick with oily puddles that reflect the faint glow of the lights.

At last, the distinct reddish roof of your mother’s house comes into view. You step inside, slide your muddy boots off, and leave them on the small doormat right behind the door.

"Ma, I’m home." You announce yourself loudly as you set the groceries down in the kitchen. You put everything away, sliding the items in their proper drawers and cupboard. Your mom is very particular about that. You set two breads aside for yourself before grabbing a large container of water from under the sink. Pouring some into a clean glass, you set it on the wooden table.

Olenna emerges from the dimly lit corridor, her warm sleeping clothes hanging loosely on her frame and a book resting in her hand. "It’s barely noon," she says dryly, pulling herself a seat.

"It was just a routine council meeting," you reply matter-of-factly, your hands reaching for the little compartment that holds her medicines.

"Must be nice for those Pilties," she scoffs, before a heavy coughing fit overtakes her. "They sure don’t push themselves too hard, do they?…You would know."

You ignore her remark and ask, "Is fish porridge okay for today?"

"Oh, it’s okay," she replies, her voice dripping with passive aggression. "Just like it was okay yesterday, and the day before that." You know better than to engage, so you simply place two painkiller tablets in front of her.

"Those things are killing me, you know."

"I’m sure they’re the least of your problems." Her face tightens, clearly offended, and she is about to argue, but you put your hand up.

"Just—" You are used to this ridiculous back and forth, it’s the same charade everyday. "Take the meds." You slide the glass of water across the table and wait. It takes the usual five or six seconds for your mom to give in. Finally, she grabs the pills, shoves them into her mouth, and downs the glass like it’s a shot of fine whiskey. After a few very exaggerated heavy breaths, she stands up. "Okay, I’m ready."

The process is always the same. Olenna sits backwards on the chair, her arms crossed over the backrest while you transfer a small dose of tampered Shimmer in a syringe. The light purple liquid spreads slowly, almost hypnotically. You lift your mother’s shirt up and quickly find the spot along her spine where the needle needs to go. Her body becomes rigid as you empty the content of the syringe all the way through, but it’s very brief. Once you’re all done, you clean everything up and get to cooking.

As usual, most of the dinner is spent in comfortable silence. Occasionally, you’ll try to make small talk. You get a word or two in return, a full sentence if you’re lucky. You smile quietly to yourself as Olenna puts her fork down. She can criticise your cooking all she wants, but she always finishes before you, leaving nothing but a clean plate behind.

You drape your uniform jacket over your shoulders and grab the grocery bag with the bread, calling out from the hallway.

"Goodnight, Ma. I’ll see you tomorrow."

"If I haven’t kicked the bucket by then," she shouts back.

"Whatever you say, Ma." You throw one last glance behind you—Olenna is already lost in her book—and head out the door.

Your apartment is just across the street, close enough if anything happens. If your relationship was different, you’d be living with her, of course. But the way things are now, she probably would’ve strangled you to death already—or vice versa. It’s better this way.

Once you’re alone in the quiet of your room, you pull out a small shoe box from under the bed. You open it to reveal the gemstone, nestled in a makeshift padding. Carefully, you take it between your thumb and index finger, rolling it slowly. It’s beautiful by all accounts, and you can’t help but wonder how such a tiny object could cause so much trouble. You’ve turned the problem over in your mind all day, and yet you still don’t know what the hell to do with it. Honestly, you don’t even fully grasp the kind of power you’re holding. You imagine that if Hextech can power up portals, then surely this thing could be used for much more dangerous purposes. But technology was never your strong suit. All you know is that there’s only two people in topside who know how to use Hextech safely—and that is not exactly reassuring.

You glance out the window, barely able to make out anything through the thick green fog in the distance. There are plenty of things about this whole mess that are bothering you, and you intend to get some answers. A little visit to the Last Drop is in order.

Thanks for reading !

Chapter 1 ⎜ Chapter 2 ⎜ Chapter 3 ⎜ Chapter 4 ⎜ Chapter 5

#silco #silco x reader #arcane #dusty writes

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jonaleddelhi · 11 months ago

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Comprehensive Guide to LED Displays: Transportation, Retail, Virtual Studios, and Airports

Introduction

LED displays have revolutionized various industries with their vibrant visuals, energy efficiency, and versatility. From enhancing communication in transportation hubs to creating immersive environments in virtual studios, LED displays have become indispensable. This comprehensive guide explores the specific applications of LED displays in transportation, retail stores, virtual studios, and airports, providing insights into their benefits and usage.

LED Display for Transportation

The Role of LED Displays in Transportation

LED display for transportation play a crucial role in providing real-time information to passengers, enhancing safety, and improving overall efficiency. These displays are commonly found in bus stations, train stations, airports, and even on vehicles, offering clear and concise information about schedules, routes, and emergency alerts.

Benefits of LED Displays in Transportation

Real-Time Information: LED displays provide passengers with up-to-the-minute information on arrivals, departures, and delays.

Enhanced Visibility: With bright, clear displays, passengers can easily view information even in direct sunlight or poor weather conditions.

Energy Efficiency: LED technology is known for its low power consumption, making it an ideal choice for 24/7 operation in transportation hubs.

Durability: Designed to withstand harsh environmental conditions, LED displays in transportation settings are highly durable and reliable.

Applications of LED Displays in Transportation

Passenger Information Systems: Displays showing schedules, updates, and alerts.

Wayfinding Signage: Guides passengers through large transportation hubs.

Advertising and Promotions: Digital billboards and ads targeting travelers.

Safety and Emergency Alerts: Displays that broadcast emergency messages and instructions.

LED Display for Retail Store

Transforming Retail Spaces with LED Displays

In the retail sector, LED display for Retail Store are transforming how businesses engage with customers. These displays from Jona LED are used for dynamic advertising, interactive kiosks, and enhancing the overall aesthetic of the store, creating an engaging shopping experience.

Benefits of LED Displays in Retail

Increased Customer Engagement: Eye-catching visuals attract and retain customer attention.

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Applications of LED Displays in Retail Stores

Digital Signage: Promotes products, sales, and events.

Window Displays: Captures attention of passersby with vibrant visuals.

Interactive Kiosks: Provides self-service options for customers.

In-Store Advertising: Features targeted advertisements and promotions.

LED Display for Virtual Studio

Creating Immersive Experiences in Virtual Studios

LED display for Virtual Studio creates realistic and immersive environments for filming, live broadcasts, and virtual events. These displays from Jona LED offer high resolution, seamless integration, and flexibility, making them the preferred choice for modern studios.

Benefits of LED Displays in Virtual Studios

High-Resolution Visuals: Delivers stunning, lifelike visuals that enhance the realism of virtual environments.

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Applications of LED Displays in Virtual Studios

Background Displays: Provides dynamic, changeable backgrounds for films and broadcasts.

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LED Display for Airport

Enhancing Airport Operations with LED Displays

Airports are complex environments where clear communication is vital. LED display for Airport play a key role in conveying crucial information to passengers and staff, improving the overall efficiency and safety of airport operations.

Benefits of LED Displays in Airports

Real-Time Flight Information: Displays real-time updates on flight status, gates, and schedules.

Passenger Guidance: Helps passengers navigate through the airport with clear signage.

Advertising Opportunities: Provides high-traffic areas for targeted advertising.

Emergency Notifications: Ensures rapid dissemination of critical information in emergencies.

Applications of LED Displays in Airports

Flight Information Displays (FIDS): Shows arrival and departure times, gate information, and delays.

Wayfinding Displays: Directs passengers to gates, baggage claim, and other essential areas.

Advertising Displays: Offers a platform for brands to advertise to a large, captive audience.

Security and Alert Displays: Communicates security information and emergency alerts.

Conclusion

LED displays have become integral across various industries, including transportation, retail, virtual studios, and airports. Their ability to provide clear, dynamic, and reliable communication makes them an essential tool in modern operations. By understanding the specific applications and benefits of LED displays in these sectors, businesses can make informed decisions and optimize their use of this versatile technology.

#LED Display for Virtual Studio #LED Display for Transportation #led display for retail store

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newldmachinery-blog · 4 months ago

Video

youtube

20 Tons EX Warning Light Battery Trackless Transfer Cart#tech #machine #...

#youtube #electric transfer cart #material handling equipment #explosion proof #LED display screen #warning light #hydraulic lifting device #tech #machine #transporter #trackless transfer trolley

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ivystoryweaver · 2 months ago

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The Only One

Episode 10

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist

Summary: Everything's changing now. With your view of yourself and your past, with your wings, with Poe.

Word Count: 2.3k

PREVIOUSLY on "The Only One"...

"Will you meet me here tomorrow? I think I can help you."

"With the Force, you mean?"

"Yes. And I think we can do something about your pain," Leia added. "I may also have an idea about where you're from."

"Leia told me she found you in the hangar today," Poe commented as the two of you ate your evening meal together. "Working on a ship?"

Your face burned with shame at the thought of leaving without telling Poe, so you said nothing.

"But..." he cleared his throat, reaching for your hand. "You weren't working on a ship. Were you?" His eyes found yours, questioning and pleading - wondering if you would allow his gaze to linger.

When you averted your eyes, he knew. "You want to leave."

He withdrew his hand and the absence of it sent a hollowing emptiness echoing throughout your entire body.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled wearily. "Don't worry, Leia didn't tell me anything. She didn't betray your trust."

Although you would normally be rambling and over-explaining by now, you felt unable to say much of anything. You yearned to explain that Leia wanted to help you, and that she had changed your mind about leaving, at least for now.

"What am I supposed to do if you leave?" He rasped out, voice thickening with emotion. Pushing his tray of food aside, he propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands and letting his head fall to meet them. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

Upsetting Poe was the last thing in the galaxy you wanted. But it was too late now. He turned to you with accusing eyes.

"Are you really leaving?"

"N-no," you stuttered out, wilting under his scrutiny.

The tiniest flicker of hope ignited in his warm brown eyes. "I don't want you to," he confessed in a rush.

"I don't want to," you agreed with him. "I thought I had to."

Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? Did someone say something to you? Just tell me who - "

"I was afraid of hurting you. Everyone really," you gestured around you at the other Resistance members dining. "But most of all you."

"You'll hurt me if you leave." Turning to face you, he tucked one leg underneath the other, scooting closer. "Elia, tell me what you're afraid of."

"Of the dark side," you urgently uttered, moisture gathering in your eyes as you fought all your instincts telling you to look away, to run away. "Of the thing that hurt you so much, when they captured you." One tear slipped down your cheek. "Of being just like them. Like the ones who tore inside your mind and made you feel like a traitor. The ones who blew up the Hosnian system."

"Baby, you're nothing like them," Poe reassured you, with conviction. "You're everything they're not."

"How do you know that? You don't know that!" Your wings fluttered then, stretching out behind you briefly in a dramatic flare.

It took Poe's breath away, but drew some unwanted attention.

Screwing your eyes shut, you wished you could disappear, but what you didn't understand was that the stares were awe-filled. You were a force user, like the Jedi girl Rey. Like Leia. And Master Luke.

You were a symbol of hope.

Word had rapidly spread about Poe Dameron's companion, the computer technician who loved to infodump. How she wielded the Force. How she landed a fiery transport with her mind, mid-battle, saving dozens of lives.

How rocks circled her body in a powerful display as her wingspan unfurled.

This girl with messy twin buns and unlaced boots, with her trademark little backpack was a force - a creature of mystery and goodness and power. And one who had the full attention of Commander Dameron and General Organa.

That's why they stared.

Poe knew you didn't understand. Not yet. So he led you out of the cafeteria. He asked you to take a walk with him. He could see you shutting down, but he would not relent. Not this time, not after he almost lost you again.

Finally you were under the stars and able to breathe.

Poe's fingers tangled with yours as his thumb stroked steadily back and forth over your knuckles.

"I don't understand, Poe," you quietly murmured, eyes focused on the darkened waterfall cascading in the distance.

After all this time - after everything - Poe was a dear and true to you as anyone ever had been, or likely ever would be. You adored him so, but still couldn't wrap your mind around what he could ever seen in a creature like you.

"Why do you care so much?"

The question might have jarred the average listener, but Poe knew you, and he understood.

"I don't know," he confessed, hoping you would appreciate his candor. He hoped this darkened, moonlit sanctuary could soothe you enough to really talk. He had things to say.

"You made me laugh the first time we met. You tell me the truth. Most people tell me what I want to hear except under battle conditions. You're sincere."

The tension in your fingers relaxed, only a fraction.

"You're smart. You work well under pressure." He waited for your protest. Instead, he found your eyes, wide with curiosity, blinking at him so sweetly as he recounted your many weeks and months together.

"You saved my life." He gently smiled. "You've saved so many, with the Force. And too many to count on missions. You kept the First Order from enslaving and entire system."

"But...we all did that. I just work on the computers."

Stepping in front of you, he took both your hands in his. "I hate to break it to you, Ells, but you're just like everybody else most of the time. You're right, we all did that, together. But you did more. You’re more. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you."

You'd spent your whole life afraid to feel the Force. Afraid to spread your wings, literally and figuratively. Maybe now you had a chance.

"Breathe, Elia. Just...breathe," Leia soothingly instructed.

You sat amongst forest trees on the temporary Resistance base. Leia had taken time, away from the needs of the floundering Resistance, away from the young Jedi Rey, to help you.

The guilt was crushing, and, incidentally, the first thing Leia asked you about.

"Why are you less deserving of my help than anyone else?"

Your eyes snapped open. "What?"

"That's what you're feeling, isn't it? That there are people more deserving of my time?" Her dark eyebrows arched wryly as she waited for your answer.

"They are more deserving of your time. They aren't dangerous."

"Are you dangerous?" She challenged, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm aware of you healing and saving lives. Not harming people."

"But my species - "

"I think you're wrong about your species," Leia calmly informed you, "but even if you're not, you decide who you are, Elia. No one else."

That caught your attention. "Y-you don't think I'm a demon?"

Leia shook her head, granting you a sympathetic smile. "It doesn't really matter what I think. It only matters who you are inside." Noticing you twist your fingers anxiously, she went on. "But I think you might be a S'kytri from Skye, or descended from one. It would explain your dark wings. You're probably part human too, which would explain why you're not as tall as a S'kytri. They're mostly extinct anyway, thanks to the Empire."

"They do have dark wings, don't they? And...they're not demons. Right?" This could be the best news you ever heard.

"Elia," Leia called you name gently, reaching for your arm and squeezing gently. "It doesn't always matter where you came from. My birth father turned out to be the Emperor's right hand. A terrible force of evil on this galaxy. That doesn't mean I have to be that way. My brother wasn't like him."

Nodding fervently, you breathed out a sigh of relief. "So I'm not connected to the Dark Side. Just the Force. I-is that right?"

"There's always darkness, and light. Balance. We choose light again and again. That determines our path. Now, close your eyes," she directed, releasing your arm.

You complied, following her lead as she directed you to open yourself to the Force. To feel it surrounding and penetrating everything around you, and simply, you. Flowing through your body - your arms and legs and even your wings.

Without you really thinking about it, your wings unfurled behind you, stretching further than before.

Leia explained that she wanted you to meditate like this, morning, midday and night, opening yourself up to the Force, allowing it to flow through you, calming you, centering you, healing you. And she instructed you to spread your wings and strengthen them often.

"It's time to be who you really are, Elia."

As the ragged Resistance slowly began to rebuild itself and recover from the loses at Crait, you continued your training, as did the Jedi Rey.

With each day, your wings healed a little more, and stretched and strengthened. It also helped that Leia and Perrha helped you alter some clothes that would fit your new body correctly.

After that first night together in one room, Poe never bothered to find you other quarters. Each night, you two would find your way back to one another.

You would apologize for what you felt was the bulky awkwardness of your wings and Poe would offer to sleep on the floor. No matter how the night began, however, it would inevitably lead to your body curled against his, with one wing tucked behind you and the other covering both your bodies like a soft blanket.

His droid BB-8 spent about half his time with Rey, so he usually charged up in her quarters.

As you rested against Poe's chest, he gently stroked up and down your arm, listening to your soft breathing as you slept.

He was too wired to sleep tonight, due to a mission first thing in the morning. Your presence normally soothed him, but tonight he just wanted to talk to you - to look into your eyes. Maybe more. He had so much love to give you if only you could want it as much as he wanted to give it to you.

You stirred, shifting against his body as your warm breath tickled his throat. Poe groaned, attempting to keep his wits about him. Sometimes desire got the better of him, so, in an attempt to not overstep your boundaries, he decided it might be time to start prepping for his mission early.

As carefully as he could manage, he untangled your arm from around his torso and eased his way from underneath you, hoping not to wake you. He managed to climb out of bed and get dressed, but you finally stirred just before he walked out the automated door.

Murmuring his name, you pushed yourself up in bed, maneuvering your wings with slightly more ease. Where as previously, you would bump around, hurting and embarrassing yourself, now you could move them more smoothly.

"I'm taking up the whole bed again," You stated, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I couldn't sleep." He smiled at you softly. "Mission prep."

"Already? Feels like we just fell asleep."

"Hey, hey, you go back to sleep," he gently admonished, stepping in front of you to stop you from getting up.

"I was going to help you," you protested, as he took hold of your hands, pushing his fingers through yours.

"Well, I won't say no to that."

Poe left you to get changed, hoping to find some caf at this early hour, even though breakfast wouldn't be ready for a while yet.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the hangar and were delighted to find BB-8 waiting for you there.

"This little guy going with you?" You asked Poe, patting the cute droid.

"Yes he is, hey buddy!" Poe enthusiastically greeted the little guy.

After you helped Poe prep his ship and log everything, he asked to speak with you for a moment. Taking your hand, he led you to the quietest corner he could find in the hangar.

"Listen, I don't know when I'll be back," he told you, gazing into your eyes. "I haven't really been on a solo mission since the one to find the map to Luke Skywalker."

"That one didn't go very well," you bluntly stated.

"Yeah, not really," Poe agreed, pulling your hand to his chest. "I just...that one really changed some things...for me. And um," shifting from one booted foot to another, he licked his lips, "it was the first time you kissed me."

"Right," you nodded, breathlessly, "because, well...you asked if holding hands was all right, because we always hold hands, but then you said you wanted to kiss me, then you asked about a hug, but see, what happened was that I was scared to let you hug me because I had my backpack then and you would have felt my wings, like...squished in there, and I didn't know how to tell you, plus I don't always like to be touched? You know? So, I thought I couldn't hug you so instead I kissed - "

Pressing his lips to yours urgently, Poe silenced your rambling. All the sounds of the hangar faded away as he tasted your lips. Releasing your hands, he reached for your face, cradling you tenderly, breathing you in, giving you the chance to stop if you wanted to.

The heat of his breath as he whispered your name made you melt against him, arms slipping around his neck to tangle in his curls.

He kissed you hard but only for a moment, just enough to almost make your knees give out before he was backing away, steading you by your arms as his forehead touched yours.

"Sorry...sorry," he breathed, but you shook your head and pulled him by his orange flight suit right back to you, sealing your mouth to his.

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#the only one fic #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #oscar isaac fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x oc #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x female oc #poe dameron fanfic #sw fic #poe dameron x female reader #poe x elia #oscar isaac characters

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wyfy-meltdown · 5 months ago

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Syndr∞memime Character Profiles!

*For reference, the information included is based off of the information that's listed in the Project Sekai wiki for official characters

*Also please note that the names (including the kanji versions) are written in westerner order (Firstname Lastname) rather than Japanese order (Lastname Firstname)

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Shiki Kikumori (史希菊森) 🦋

Gender: Male (he/him)

Birthday + Age: January 3rd (♑), 17

Height: 183cm, 6'0

Class: Asakura Highschool Class 2-A (Year 2 / Grade 11)

Club: Literature Club

Part-Time Job: (None)

Hobbies: Journaling, Art Analysis

Speciality: Lyric Writing

Favourite Food: Lobster Bisque

Least Favourite Food: Burgers

Dislikes: Sugary Foods

Color Code: #4FDBF7

Etymology Of Name: "史" means history (specifically in reference to a textbook or document of history), and "希" means hope (specifically something that is dim or fading). "菊" means chrysanthemum and "森" means forest. Together, it could be read as chrysanthemum forest.

Background: A boy who comes from a prestigious family. During the final week of grade nine, a confrontation with two classmates led to him losing his eye and being sent to boarding school for the entirety of his grade ten year. His desire to get revenge for the permanent marks on his record and the loss of his eye was amplified by finding the two former classmates who were involved in the incident going to the same school as him. While writing in his diary about his feelings, a notification on his phone displaying a song called "Untitled" popped up: after clicking it, he was transported to a strange and dark mansion known as "Manor SEKAI". After being welcomed by a mysterious Miku, Shiki resolves to uncover the secrets of the Manor and of his own mind.

Solo Covers: Waltz Of Malice, MIRA, As You Like It

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Ikuro Suzui (幾朗鈴居) 🐳

Gender: Male (he/him)

Birthday + Age: August 10th (♌), 18

Height: 180cm, 5'11

Class: Asakura Highschool Class 3-A (Year 3 / Grade 12)

Club: School Community Committee

Part-Time Job: Babysitter

Hobbies: ???

Speciality: Motivating People

Favourite Food: (None)

Least Favourite Food: (None)

Dislikes: Betrayal, Loneliness, Abandonment

Color Code: #6C2ED6

Etymology Of Name: "幾" means "how many?" (as in asking about the degree or severity of something) and carries the additional meaning of "omen" or "wish". "朗" means bright and cheerful, but can also mean a clear or loud voice. "鈴" means bell. "居" means "to exist, reside, or stay".

Background: A very friendly and outgoing boy who hides many personal secrets. Around two or three years ago, he was in a romantic relationship that was very unhealthy (to put it lightly). After several months of doing everything he could to earn the love of his partner (including putting himself into uncomfortable situations), he was dumped leaving him with a deep feeling of personal inadequacy. After that, he resolved to make himself someone that people would like: disregarding his true feelings and interests for the sake of better suiting the people around him. As a member of the School Community Committee, he was tasked with helping some students with bad records (Shiki, Momoka) with acclimating to Asakura. Ikuro vowed to help Shiki however he could, and soon entered Manor SEKAI.

Solo Covers: Revolver, Otome Dissection, A Drowned Corpse Wants To Be Lovey-Dovey

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Momoka Nomura (桃歌能村) 🌸

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Birthday + Age: October 11th (♎), 15

Height: 154cm, 5'1

Class: Asakura Highschool Class 1-B (Year 1 / Grade 10)

Club: Sewing Club

Part-Time Job: Waitress

Hobbies: Sketching, Embroidery

Speciality: Costume Design

Favourite Food: Fruit (Apple, Peach, Lemon, Ect) Pie

Least Favourite Food: Noodles

Dislikes: Herself, Noisy People

Color Code: #A920A9

Etymology Of Name: "桃" means peach and "歌" means song or musical poetry. "能" means talent and "村" means village.

Background: She lives alone with her father, who is rarely around due to work. From a young age she was a "difficult child", as she'd often lash out at people over trivial things. She didn't have any friends and if she did she'd end up sabotaging the relationship somehow, leading to her having a very lonely upbringing. In her early teenage years she began to face bullying, ostracization, and coldness from peers and teachers alike: as her emotional stability got worse, everyone started referring to her as and treating her as "a lost cause". She became severely depressed and spiralled into paranoia and hatred of others. In her first year of highschool, she was sent to work with a member of the School Community Committee (Ikuro) to help her adjust to the school. Upon discovering Manor SEKAI, Momoka regains some hope of salvation for herself and decides to use it to help herself recover (something the others would soon follow).

Solo Covers: Abstract Nonsense, My R, Merry Bad End,

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Meguru Tsuchiko (廻留土子) 🎩

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Birthday + Age: November 20th (♏), 16

Height: 176cm, 5'9

Class: Asakura Highschool Class 2-A (Year 2 / Grade 11)

Club: Student Council (President), Chess Club

Part-Time Job: Tutor, Teacher's Aid

Hobbies: Listening To Metal Music

Speciality: Organization, Leading

Favourite Food: Wasabi-Flavoured Chips

Least Favourite Food: Nuts (Peanuts, Chesnuts, Pistachios, Ect)

Dislikes: Skirts, Dependant People

Color Code: #136643

Etymology: "廻" means "revolve" (as in go around in circles) additionally "turn" (as in to change direction), "留" means "detain" (stop or keep stationary). "土" means soil, "子" means "child" (as in offspring or descendant).

Background: A girl with an average family and home life. From a young age she displayed exceptional academic talent, and was easily able to rise to the top of all her classes. As she grew older, the expectations of her parents, teachers, and peers began to rise: although she could keep her grades and behaviours steady, those rising expectations soon made her usual efforts "not enough". As she entered highschool she was pressured into join the student council, and very quickly became the president: giving her a bunch more responsibilities. Feeling suffocated by the expectations and duties that once brought her pride, she adopted the persona of "the perfect student" to dissociate her real self from the person others want her to be. A new classmate of hers with a bad record (Shiki), begins to act suspiciously and hang out with an unusual group of people (Ikuro and Momoka). Meguru decides to follow Shiki to see what he's been doing, and accidentally discovers Manor SEKAI in the process. She puts together a plan that they, as a group, could help eachother through their issues using SEKAI and the power of music to express their feelings.

Solo Covers: Aishite Aishite Aishite, Lost One's Weeping, A Fake Fake Psychotropic

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Full Group Covers:

Young Girl A

Brain Fluid Explosion Girl

Bitter Choco Decoration

Echo

Chururira Chururira Dadada

Bakusho

Hydrangea

One Off Mind

Alter Ego

Additional Group Covers:

Faust (Shiki + Ikuro)

Hello Dystopia (Shiki + Meguru)

Darling (Ikuro + Momoka)

Ángel (Momoka + Meguru + Ikuro)

Brain Revolution Girl (Shiki + Momoka)

The Girl Who Sells Misfortune (Shiki + Momoka + Ikuro)

Tokyo Ghetto (Shiki + Ikuro + Meguru)

Ghost Rule (Ikuro + Meguru)

Ikanaide (Ikuro + Momoka)

( @ravenclod @rift-rifter pspsps come get lore!!!)

#ocs #oc #project sekai oc #proseka oc #project sekai fan unit #proseka fan unit #proseka ocs #project sekai ocs #original character #oc lore #shiki kikumori #ikuro suzui #momoka nomura #meguru tsuchiko #syndr∞memime

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captainsophiestark · 9 months ago

Text

Welcome to the Chaos

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by @ghostofskywalker! Hope you like it Tori, and hope I did the clones justice! ❤️

Fandom: Star Wars

Day Fourteen Prompt: "Did you stick to the plan?"

Summary: Commander Fox is about to learn just how true the stories about are the 501st when he joins them on a Separatist raid in the Outer Rim.

Word Count: 2,037

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This can be read as platonic or romantic with Anakin! "Partner" here can mean mission parter, romantic partner, or both!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Are they here yet?"

I sighed, looking over the mini base camp the 501st had set up to stage our attack. Still no new ships in the landing zone, and none in sight coming in.

"Not yet," I said into my comm, responding to my best friend and partner Anakin Skywalker. He'd taken off to set up the last thing we needed to prepare before engaging with the enemy, taking Rex and Fives with him while I waited here for the last members of our party to join us.

"Well what's taking them so long?" Anakin's voice came back, whining through the comm. "We have an operation to conduct here."

"Beats me. This is the first time I've heard of the Coruscanti Guard joining us way the hell out here for a mission. Maybe they got lost."

"Cody's been out here before, they shouldn't be lost." I rolled my eyes at Anakin's tone, but didn't say anything. "Commander Fox is joining us all the way in the Outer Rim—that's how important this Separatist stash is. We can't just wait around here much longer without losing our window."

Unfortunately, Anakin was right. Not only did this Separatist base hold invaluable information and supplies we could use, it apparently held some items of very specific importance for the Chancellor. I hadn't cared enough to get the details on them, especially because that's why Commander Fox was being sent out here in the first place—to secure whatever it was the Chancellor was so concerned about.

"Well... let's switch to Plan B, then. That way we can get started as soon as you get back, whether or not Cody and Fox make it here in time."

I could hear Anakin's smile even over the crackle of the comm.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Over and out, see you in a minute."

I grinned and put my comm away. Anakin and I had come up with Plan B first, but after dicussion with Cody and Obi-Wan, it'd been replaced by the more boring, playing-it-safe Plan A. Thankfully, the 501st always managed to be on the same page. We could all switch to Anakin, Rex, and I's preferred plan without batting an eye.

Not five minutes after we'd officially changed the plan, a small troop transport ship came swooping down. The doors opened, and Commander Cody led the way towards us, Commander Fox next to him and the rest of the reinforcements from the 212th following right behind.

I grinned and gave Cody a wave as they approached. We'd worked together plenty of times before, and he and the rest of the 212th were my favorite group to work with, other than my own 501st. They weren't usually as crazy as us by any means, but they knew exactly who and what we were, and could hold their own.

Commander Fox, on the other hand, was new. I'd met him a few times in his role leading the Coruscant Guard, but we'd never worked together in the field. He seemed pretty good at his job, so hopefully, he'd be able to keep up with Anakin and I with no problems.

"General," said Cody, his voice formal as he stopped before me with a salute. Fox copied him, and I grinned. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise, Codes. Although you're a little late."

"Are we?" Cody frowned, his eyes shooting immediately to the time display on his wrist. Commander Fox frowned, stepping forward with a serious look on his face.

"My apologies, General. That's my fault. The commander was delayed while I collected some details about the specific things the Chanellor is hoping to capture in this raid."

"Don't worry about it, Fox," I said, waving him off with a grin. "I was mostly just giving Cody a hard time. We're happy to have you both out here!"

Fox gave a serious nod, which I chose to focus on instead of Cody's frown.

"It's an honor to be working with the 501st. Commander Cody briefed me on the plan on our way here, and I'm ready to do my part where you need me."

"About that-"

Before I could say another word, Anakin, Rex, and Fives came rushing in, matching grins on their faces that I knew well. Plan B involved significantly more chaos than Plan A, and I knew Anakin was as happy about that as I was.

"Okay, we're all set," said Anakin, coming to a stop beside me. He bumped my shoulder with his and gave me a boarderline maniacal look. "You ready?"

"You know I am. Did you stick to the plan?"

"Of course. I always do."

Our very own voice of reason Commander Cody couldn't quite hold back a snort. He quickly marshalled his expression as Anakin, Fox, Rex, Fives, and I all turned to look at him. The rest of the 501st and I had raised eyebrows, while Fox looked a little concerned.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," said Anakin, his narrowed eyes staying on Cody for a few extra beats. I made the mistake of making eye contact with Fives and barely managed to hold back a snort of my own.

"Alright, enough of this," I said, taking Anakin's arm to check the timer on his wrist. As expected, we were seconds away from zero. "It's time to move out! Fox and Rex, you're with me. Cody and Fives, with Ani."

All four clones saluted me, then dropped their salutes less than a second later when our explosives went off. They shook the ground we stood on, and within a few moments, we could hear the shrieking of the droid soldiers we'd caught by surprise.

"What was that?" exclaimed Fox. Anakin and I just shared a grin.

"That was the plan!" Rex answered for us. I reached out and took Anakin's hand, giving it one last squeeze for luck along with a wink, before the two of us took our boys in different directions.

"That was not the plan!" Fox shouted, following along with Rex and I anyway. I shared a grin with Rex.

"It was our plan!"

I heard a disgruntled grunt from Fox, but to his credit, he quickly fell into step with Rex and I. The two of us moved like a well oiled machine, especially since Rex had spent so long with the 501st and our shenanigans, but Fox managed to keep pace and hold his own incredibly well. In the midst of all the chaos from the explosions, we moved along the right side of the battlefield like a whirlwind, clearing one side while Anakin, Fives, and Cody took the other. The rest of our troops and Cody's 212th reinforcements cut through the center like a hot knife through butter.

Unfortunately for us, the droids managed to get organized before we managed to route them. We'd cleared about half of the space when a droid tank came to life, whirling on the three of us cutting along the sideline.

"Rex!"

"On it, General! Fox, come on!"

Fox looked confused, but he didn't bat an eye as he followed Rex, charging ahead of me and closing distance with the tank. I grinned, especially as I watched Rex take command of the situation with ease despite his technically lower rank.

"Take a knee with your right side facing the tank!" he shouted. Fox looked like he was about to ask a question, but Rex beat him to it as he jumped and I extended my hand. "Just do it!"

I caught Rex halfway through his jump, using the Force to lift him up and onto the top of the droid tank. Luckily for both of us, Fox trusted Rex and I enough to follow Rex's instructions. Just as he got his foot planted and took a knee, I jumped, landing on Fox's thigh and pushing off to join Rex on top of the tank. I grinned at Fox and shouted at him as I jumped past.

"Good! Now fire at the thing!"

Moving like one connected being, Fox used enough heavy weaponry to keep the tank from moving too far forward. I cut the thing open with my lightsaber, and Rex fired a few quick rounds through the hole I'd made to take out the droids and the tank as one. It sank to the ground in a heap, leaving Fox directly in front of it and Rex and I triumphantly on top.

"Nice work," I said with a grin, high-fiving Rex and jumping down to do the same with Fox. He gave me the high-five despite shaking his head, then stood up with a huff.

"Now I know what Commander Cody was trying to warn me about," he said. "It's nice to know the younger clones weren't telling tall tales about what goes on in the 501st."

"Massive, epic successes?" I guessed. Rex grinned at me, and when Fox shook his head again, this time it was with a smile.

"Exactly, General."

It didn't take us long to clear the rest of the battlefield. When we'd finished, Rex and I shared another high-five, then met up with Anakin, Cody, and Fives in the center of the former chaos.

"Well done you three," Anakin said as he came over to us. "That was a nice move with the tank. I'm especially impressed with how well you kept pace, Commander Fox."

"Right?" I exclaimed, jumping in before Fox could answer. "You're practically an honorary member of the 501st! That was incredible!"

Fox gave us a salute and a slightly uncertain looking smile.

"Thank you, Generals."

Cody smiled and clapped a hand on Fox's shoulder.

"Don't worry. You get used to it."

Anakin, Rex, Fives, and I shared a conspiratorial smile. Watching uninitiated people try to deal with the way we did things was one of our collective favorite passtimes, and this had been no exception.

After another moment enjoying the aftermath, I sighed.

"Alright, we should probably wrap up and get out of here. Rex, Fives, can you two go with Cody and Fox to secure whatever it is the Chancellor's looking for? We need to get that to him as soon as possible."

Rex and Fives both saluted.

"Yes, General."

Anakin sighed and draped an arm across my shoulders as we watched the rest of our group walk away. I couldn't be totally sure what they were talking about, but I had a feeling it involved Commander Fox debriefing about the somewhat unorthodox methods he'd just witnessed from the 501st. Luckily for us, I knew Rex and Fives loved it, and even though he liked to be the voice of reason, I knew Cody enjoyed it, too. I knew they'd bring Fox around to the same page, even if we'd been a pretty big surprise today.

"Well, that went well," said Anakin happily. I smiled and leaned into his side.

"It sure did. We've got a damned good group, which helps."

"Sure does. What do you think Fox would do if we asked him to stick around with us for a few drinks once we get this place cleaned out?"

I laughed. "I guess we won't know until we ask him, will we? It is a post-battle tradition for the 501st, after all."

"Exactly. How else are we supposed to get close enough to regularly throw each other over walls and onto tanks?"

"Training?"

Anakin scoffed. "There's no training for the situations we regularly find ourselves in. Or for the ways we have to get ourselves out of them."

"I agree," I said, turning to face him with a grin. "So... last one to find valuable supplies and Separatist information has to do a handstand while singing in front of the whole group tonight?"

Anakin smirked. "You better start practicing your song."

"Not a chance, flyboy!" I shouted over my shoulder as I took off running through the battle remnants. I heard Anakin shout a "Hey!" behind me, but I ignored him as I raced through the destroyed supplies, ships, and droids. I tore past Cody, Fox, Rex, and Fives and saw a raised eyebrow or two, but I didn't stop to explain.

I had a bet to win, after all, and the best way to be initiated to the chaos of the 501st was to jump in head-first with questions later, anyway.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

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