#maybe make another verse her main and adjust everything

[cartelheir]

:///// the monthly urge to revamp really hitting me rn

[anonmothgod]

@shuublebunny ask and you shall recive!

Irene is the dominant figure that is worshipped in Ru'an, and in mystreet is one of the only gods referred to by name as a replacement for us saying "thank god".

The biggest idea that comes us is that Irene the Matron, Mother Mary. For those that may not be totally versed with Bible lore, Mother Mary is the mom of Jesus, the messiah. She's also known as Virgin Mary since God went "yeah that one" and suddenly Mary now has a kid who happens to be the Messiah.

But, I disagree with this comparison. Irene is a more nuianced god, while she is a symbol of love, family, light and protection she is a goddess in a Pantheon of her own leading. Head Gods in a Pantheon have reoccuring thing of being not the best idol out there, and Irene is by no mean clean with her hands. She did uh, kill her own kid after all.

"Now that can't be very Catholic-" Kid killing is everywhere. God killed a group of kids with a bear because they made fun of a bald man. The story of Issac, where his own father Abraham was going to sacrafice him to God since God said so but an angel sent a lamb so he wouldn't die.

We'll get more into that story in a moment.

Look in MCD, what is one of the biggest things I notice regarding religon? Zane, the High Preist, follows alot of Catholic teachings (keep in mind this is from my expereince in my church. every church is different, as each dominion is different too.). He wears a veil, wears white to show innocent/purity, stained glass mosasics and idols of Irene. To me, this is very much how catholics churches would present themselves. Back in the time that MCD takes, the teachings would be similar to what Zane preaches. Church holds equal power to the Ru'an government, hence why Zane could do half the shit he did. Irene is a symbol of purity, not with sex, but with soul. A lamb would be a perfect symbol of her- but not a shephard. This is very personal headcannons, but she is not the main Godess of Protection. That belongs to Esmund the Protector.

Going back to the story, Isaac was the son of Abraham and Sarah. Sarah was past her "childbearing" years, but God promised that they would have a son. That son is Isaac.

God tested Abraham's obedience, by commanding Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. Making all the preperations, Abraham is ready to commit fully before an angel sends a lamb down.

When we were told this story, it was framed that God was better then the Roman gods since he didn't make Abraham do human sacrafice. After all, he sent a lamb down! God was merciful!

I never got that message. Ever. All I remembered from that story is that God gave a gift then tried to take it back. The point of adding this here?

Irene's symbol (to me) is the Lamb. A maytr. The Matron. This would be a test she would do, albiet more adjusted.

"Show your devotion, give me your child and in turn you have the Light's Blessing. A relic of great power."

Irene is a powerful Goddess, that is feared by many. Her power can give great boon, or take everything. Maybe she was once kind, someone to be a perfect idol of good behavior. But years of being a godess, a healer, a symbol turned Irene farther away.

A lamb let astray.

I'mma make another post about all of the Divine Warriors and more about Irene as an idol. I have so many thoughts about it, the symbols they have and what they represent in their world.

Aphblr I am offering my catholic knowledge

I'm ex Orthodox Catholic. I know y'all would love to ask some questions considering how alot of things I see talk about the religon and Irene as a Goddess ( i have SO MANY thoughts) but I'm down to explain different things from a catholic perspective.

[into-the-stratosphere]

Sweeney Todd: Revisted

Lol I can’t post this on any of my other socials just yet because the official cast list hasn’t been posted, but my tumblr isn’t linked to my Instagram or Facebook or anything like that, so I felt I could safely post here without getting in trouble. Warning now that this is a LONG post because I overwrite a lot lol

If you’ve been following me a while, you might remember last spring I was supposed to be in a production of Sweeney Todd as a soloist/ensemble member. We got through about a month and a half of rehearsals before everything was shut down by Covid, but the company kept promising we would do the show once everything opened up again, just a little while longer and we’ll do it, we’re pushing for October instead of May, this is going to happen. Honestly, once we hit the school year and no updates had come, I thought this would have to be a show I shelved until an entirely new production came up- until April this year we got an email asking who was still interested in returning.

Somehow we had gotten approval to move forward with the show again after all, and we were being moved to a larger space to accommodate a larger audience to boot! But with the new dates and location, naturally some cast members had to step down from their roles due to conflicts. In fact, pretty much the entire main cast had to step down; our Sweeney had moved in October, our Beggar Woman wasn’t comfortable coming back to live theatre just yet, Mrs Lovett would be on her honeymoon during the new show dates, our main Johanna would be working a new job further away, a lot of our younger cast was going to college out of state, like our Anthony and I believe both Toby’s.

In the initial email we were told that if we were willing to return, we could keep our roles and not have to reaudition, but as roles opened up we were also given the option to audition for the new openings. Our understudy Johanna was returning, so I figured they would bump her up into the main role, and I hoped I could squeeze in and maybe get the understudy spot this year, since last year I hadn’t made the cut for Johanna at all. I picked my music (Soon from A Little Night Music if anyone was wondering) and my monologue (fairly certain they wanted monologues just to hear that we could do accents because the audition listing said they preferred we did our monologue in accent), and set to preparing again to hopefully have a shot at Johanna this year.

A friend I met doing virtual shows was also auditioning, and when she mentioned she heard the new director didn’t want to have any understudies for the main cast, I grew worried, remembering our understudy Johanna said she was returning. Since I didn’t know how the director would go about distributing promised roles regarding understudy positions, I continued to prepare to the best of my ability with the slim hope I might get Johanna, but that hope was fading with the knowledge of the former understudy’s return.

A few days before the audition however, she posted in our private group that she too would have to step down, as she had just gotten accepted into her dream school and would be out of state during the production’s run. Suddenly the grey area barring me from Johanna dissipated, and all I had to worry for now was the new auditioning pool- this was one of the first in person shows to open in our area since the lockdown, so there was bound to be a lot of new faces trying to get back into the game.

I went in on Sunday feeling far more prepared than I did last year (I almost didn’t audition last year because I had only just gotten my voice back from a horrible flu strain), and funnily enough, my friend I had met doing virtual shows had signed up for the same time bracket as me without either of us knowing. Entering the audition room, I immediately felt good; everyone had such a welcoming atmosphere, the director was friendly as could be, but I could also tell he was very professional. I performed the best I could, waited for my friend to finish her audition afterwards, then we went to go talk and catch up while desperately waiting to possibly get a callback.

We chatted for hours about theatre, our virtual theatre group, life, all while keeping a vigilant eye on the time for when that day’s auditions would end and calls would be made. Eventually we both decided to go home, wishing each other the best and hoping to see each other again at callbacks.

I was only halfway home when my phone rang; they loved my audition and wanted me to come in on Tuesday to read for Johanna at callbacks. I was so excited that I started crying behind the wheel, and from the way my phone was blowing up with messages from my friend, I knew she had gotten a callback as well.

Luckily they asked me to prepare Green Finch and Linnet Bird for the callback, because I have known the song for about two years now- I had put it in my audition book about a month before my Sydney trip in 2019, and the hope to perform it in the original production had been the reason I auditioned in 2020 in the first place. I found out there was two other girls they were looking at for Johanna, so I worried day and night that what if they already knew the song too, what if their resumes were better than mine, what if I cracked, what if, what if, what if…

Tuesday came and I could only hope I’d get another burst of energy after a long day at work. I showed up about forty five minutes early (the drive usually took about half an hour, but the traffic had been forgiving), hearing snippets of the Anthony’s and Beggar Woman’s upstairs, and then the first of the other two Johanna’s showed up. She was so nice, and with time the second Johanna showed up. We all chatted as the Sweeney’s, and Beggar Woman’s came down, and soon enough, they were calling the Johanna’s to head upstairs.

The Anthony’s were still upstairs when we got there, certainly so we could read our audition scenes together. The director explained we’d be singing our song first (ALL of Green Finch, since there’s no good natural spot to stop in the song), and then taking turns reading with both Anthony’s. Since I volunteered to go first, the director said he’d let me go a second time after the other two girls, that way I could adjust any slip ups since I was basically test running the sound and space for the other two girls. The speaker was as loud as it could go, but once I started singing I quickly realized that I drowned out the music and couldn’t hear my accompaniment anymore, so I relied on my muscle memory of the flow of the song and my internal meter to get me through to the end. I only messed up on the trill before the final verse, it was so much longer than I anticipated, but I knew I’d be able to fix that after hearing the other two girls. Turns out the other two had only started looking at the song once they got called back, so I had an edge on having it memorized, but once I heard their voices I grew worried because they both had such beautiful tones, trying to react quickly to when they missed something in the music. I went through my second time, correcting my mistake with the trill (which all three of us made the same mistake there) and tweaking a few small things to my blocking, and then we were given a scene to read with the Anthony’s.

We would all get a turn with both Anthony’s to get a sense of chemistry, as well so we could all make adjustments (the director reminded us the context of the scene we were reading after we all finished with the first Anthony, and guided us on a better direction to what Johanna would be feeling in that moment for our second time through). I felt I really connected well with both Anthony’s, familiar with the scene and story so I wouldn’t have to be buried in my lines. It was during our read-throughs that I realized the other two Johanna’s were likely a few years older than me based on how they played her; more mature, more sure of themselves. I finished my second read-through, hopefully keeping to the context of the scene better than my first run-through, and we were all told that we could head home, that we’d be hearing from them in a day or two regarding final casting. Before I hit the door, the director paused me, asking if I still had my original script from the prior production. Heart pounding at the implications his question could be loaded with, I told them I did, and in fact I had it with me. “It felt like good luck to bring it,” I said, and they all laughed with me at lugging around a four hundred page script for luck.

When we got downstairs, the Johanna I was particularly worried about asked me if I studied opera, which I admitted I did have an associates degree for music. We all talked a while longer before they all headed out, and I sought my friend in the lobby to confide in her; I think I’ve got Johanna.

After talking with her a bit about our auditions, explaining how I thought I had an edge, I headed home, hardly able to sleep as I picked my audition apart in my head and awaited some kind of phone call.

The next day at work I jumped every time my phone buzzed, waiting to see if it was a call. When I was upstairs heating up my lunch, my friend asked if I had heard anything yet, mentioning how she and our Judge thought the director would start making calls after work. I assented- it made sense, plus it’s so much better to actually be able to receive the call than to come back to a voicemail about your casting.

As I waited in the hall for someone, my phone started buzzing with a call, and my heart rate shot up. It was still so early in the afternoon, not quite 3:30, and with everything I had knew was good about my audition, I allowed myself a flicker of hope. I knew I had a few minutes, so I quickly answered- and there was our director on the other side.

“Hi, is this Shelby? This is (director), from Sweeney Todd.” I responded back, asking how he was, trying not to lose my nerve. “I’m great, thanks for asking. We’re just starting to call everyone about casting, and we were just so impressed with your auditions, your first and your callback; we were interested if you’d be willing to accept the role of Johanna?”

I was trying not to cry on the phone as I excitedly responded YES, I would LOVE to play Johanna- I had wanted to play Johanna for a year and a half at this point, and here was my moment at last. After a few more logistical questions, he bid me a good day and hung up to call the rest of the main cast. I was just bubbling over with excitement, the first thing I did was message my friend that I’d gotten Johanna- she had found out the night before that she was going to be the Beggar Woman since she stayed late at callbacks to discuss a miscommunication with the director (she was accidentally twenty minutes late because her email had the wrong callback time listed, and when the director was made aware, she asked if she could sing again, and he said “we don’t need you to, we saw all we needed your first time through- you ARE the Beggar Woman”), then I messaged our Judge Turpin, who was one of the other few returning cast members.

My coworkers were all so excited for me, asking me when the show was going to be, that they’d all make a group to go see it together. When I got home, I tricked my parents into thinking I was still nervous about casting, saying “I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I mean, my first kiss is going to be on stage.” And when it clicked that I had gotten the part, my mom screamed and my dad laughed at my mischievousness at tricking both of them, congratulating me.

I’m still waiting on the go-ahead so I can post about this on my main socials, but I’ve just been so excited that I had to find a way to post it secretly somewhere, just so I wouldn’t burst at the seams holding this in. Our first rehearsal is in August, so my rehearsal stories series will be returning once those start (I theorized there’s a gap between auditions and first rehearsals because the cast has to be vaccinated for legal reasons, so the handful that aren’t can have time to get their vaccines).

For now, I get to wonder who my other fellow cast mates are, who my Anthony will be. Until then, if I cannot fly, let me sing 🕊 -Johanna (Shelby)

[mxndanemagic]

Prom

"She isn't going to let me go." A lamenting sigh comes from the young woman. Hugging her legs close and leaning against the window whos ledge she's seated on, Ella glances over to her older brother. "Scarlet says they'll know exactly what kind of girl I am. That I need stay home and repent for taking to Lucifer's temptations."

William doesn't hold back a frustrated groan, going over to the other and placing a hand atop her head. "That mother of ours isn't well. I know you've been having a rough time at school and Scarlet isn't much help either. But I doubt making a friend is worth the fuss she's causing." Sweeping a brief look across his sister's arms, William spots fading blotches of bluish purple. "Did she do that?"

Or was it the bullies?

"My throat was getting dry from reading verses. I stopped for a moment and she got upset. I don't think she's ever gotten this bad." Ella admits. "I think she misses you." Their mother had always been frenzied about keeping "sin" and the "devil" out of their lives. When her brother graduated and chose to attend a college far from home, she seemed to take it personally. Accusations of taking part in witchcraft, wanting to let the devil into her life, and seducing demons began to become part of her daily life when William left.

The blonde shakes his head in disbelief - moving away to rummage through his weekend bag. "Think I got some concealer in here. You told me you got asked to the dance by one of the popular guys, right? What's he like? He isn't trying to mess with you is he?" Williams questions follow one after another. He only wanted to keep his sister safe from any further harm.

"Do you like him?"

Ella looks up confused but lets out a laugh. "No. I just know him because Moira does. If she's friends with him then he must be doing this to be nice. I'm just relieved not everyone at that school sees me as a freaky witch."

"...Come on, you should get ready. I'll make sure mom doesn't find out where you went and I know Moira snuck you out to go dress shopping." he smiles.

The younger Nowell flusters at being discovered but she thanks her brother who heads off to see where their mother is.

She hadn't been nervous earlier but once the sight of the time and realizing she was ready to go, Ella could feel her heart racing. Was her dress fine? Her hair just right and makeup fine? Would the other students mock her for attending the dance with someone so well known?

Just make them shut up for good.

The thought startles her - causing the witch to go still. Maybe she was more anxious than she thought.

"I hope this isn't too much for you, Liam." her words stumble out during the walk to the school. Ella had insisted the other didn't make a grand show when it came to taking her to prom. Now they were strolling together through the neighborhood. Liam however had been rather silent throughout the trip. "Is everything okay?" Maybe he was having second thoughts.

Liam responds as if he was caught off guard, a hand going to the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah. I just...you look nice." he mutters, keeping his eyes to the ground. "The dress too!" a rushed addition to his compliment is given.

Ella's face softens, a gentle smile taking place. "You look nice too." It seemed like the right thing to say after his kind words. Maybe her mother was all wrong about things. Not everyone she would meet was going to be cruel...

"There you two are!" Heather is first to greet them - her hands clasping Ella's close. "I told Jen you weren't gonna let her little subordinates get to you. Thought for a second Liam got lost on his way to your house." she looks over to the other, giving him a stern look. "He didn't do anything did he?"

"I was the perfect gentleman!" Liam counters, earning laughter from the two girls. "I'm getting some punch." he grumbles, breaking off from them and into the bustling crowd of prom attendees.

Heather leads Ella to an empty table away from the dancefloor, near the stage decorated for the main event of the night.

The reveal of this years Senior Prom Royalty.

"I made sure nobody would give you trouble tonight. I haven't even seen Jen or her boyfriend either after talking to her. Maybe she got bored and left." Heather sounds hopeful. It would take away some concern for the evening if that were true. "Didn't think your mom was gonna let you out, Ella. I was ready to drag Liam to your place so we could sneak you out." she grins.

Ella returns a small smile, fidgeting with the corsage on her wrist. "Will surprised us with an early visit. He wanted to make sure I could go with you guys." Being able to attend felt like the first step in concluding her unpleasant senior year on a good note.

"Testing, testing!" The sound of a stage mic being adjusted by an MC has the lively chatter in the gymnasium quiet down. "Nice to have you all here tonight! Dancing, mingling, and of course waiting for the results of our most coveted titles this years prom!"

The crowd answers with rallied cheers and impatient encouragement. Eyes watch with anticipation as a single envelope is brought over to the MC. "Let's see here~ Your King and Queen for tonight's Senior Prom are-"

"LIAM MASTERS AND ELLA NOWELL!"

The announcement surprises the woman, looking up and around as a spotlight brings attention to her and Liam - who makes his way to the stage while signaling her to follow after.

"Go on up, Nowell!" Heather gives her a light nudge.

She was voted Prom Queen?

Her footsteps towards the stage feel light, her heart beating just like before when she was getting ready.

Ella wished her mother could see - see that her fear mongering was for nothing. Everyone was smiling and clapping! They were cheering for her...

A bouquet of black dahlias is handed over to her while she and Liam stand center stage, all eyes on them as a crown is put on her head.

"Give it up for our Prom King and Queen, folks!"

Ella holds her flowers close, giving Liam and the crowd a bright smile. The crowd is so loud with their excitement that she barely hears the sound of rope snapping...

A puddle of thick wetness drapes over her, splashing to the ground and staining anything it lands on. Her cheery expression falters into one of shock - gaze staring out into the audience that reacts with a gasp. The bouquet in her grasp tumbles to the ground, stained in red paint.

At least that's what Ella thought it was until she begins to try wiping it off her arms and dress.

It was blood.

She can feel it dripping into her hair, staining her skin, and the smell of rust sticking to her.

They're all staring - some crying out for her date who's stumbled to the floor of the stage after a knock to the skull from the now empty bucket that had been leveraged above them.

Others are falling into gossip and among them she spots the one likely behind it all.

"LOOK AT THE FREAK COVERED IN BLOOD!" Jen calls out, urging other students to point, laugh, and echo insults her way.

Chaperones attempt to calm down the crowd but they're only ignored as frenzy takes over.

Ella had been wrong.

The laughter is all she can hear as she stands there like their personal fool to mock.

That's when the witch understands. . .

They were never going to change. . .

The gymnasium doors slam shut.

Windows close with a thud.

Stage lights shatter. . .and the audience panics.

Her hand raises, levitating tables nearby to send them flying into the crowd. Others are slammed into the ceiling before being dropped with ease. Many scramble for the entrance and exits - futile attempts to get out. Scream and cries fill the room as stage curtains are set ablaze.

"Stop this! Let us out!"

A snap of bones is heard and the pleading voice has gone quiet.

The fire begins to branch out to the rest of the room and Ella is calm as she descends down the stairs of the stage, strolling through the gymnasium to taken in her work.

She drowns out the sobbing and yelling of what’s left of the faculty and students. They don’t attempt to get in her way.

Taking in only the sound of flames moving rapidly, stages pieces crashing to the ground and her own soft humming while taking gentle care to remove the corsage that had been given to her.

No longer would she be their plaything.

The main entrance doors open with ease as she approaches, shutting them swiftly behind her once she's out of the building.

Outside the night breeze is cool and the gymnasium is enveloped by the fire and terror that’s sealed inside.

All of it on display just for her to savor as she watches from afar with satisfaction and the sounds of sirens are heard in the distance.

Prom hadn't been so terrible after all.

[softstarfire]

From Outer Space - RobStar Celebrity AU


Summary: Almost a year after leaving the Teen Titans, Starfire comes back to Jump City as the newest princess of pop. Her first album is the best on every music top list there is. She is loved by everyone but she wonders if the one who inspired her music feels the same.


Listen to “From Outer Space - The Album” on Spotify and Apple Music

Credits for the photos


Chapter 1/3: Be The One

It was a sunny day in Jump City. The skies were clear, and the rays shone through every apartment, every store and every corner of the town. The streets came alive even more when the weather was this good and specially today, which was a special day.

The stadium was already surrounded by lots of people. Some had been camping outside for at least a week, others came in running in the morning and stood at the end of the large line that waited to enter the venue. They had to wait for at least 9 hours more.

In another corner of the city the star that everyone was waiting for was getting ready to go on stage.

She sat on a couch as she waited to be called to the main stage. The girl sighed as she stood up and looked at herself in a mirror in front of her. She was wearing a cheerleading outfit. A purple skirt, top and converse. She was glad her team respected that purple was a very important color for her and didn’t make her dress in other colors. She adjusted her ponytail so it wouldn’t fall in the middle of the performance.

This happened every time she had to go on stage. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have a tradition; her management team was always so busy with other things and she didn’t think asking them for help in this was as important as whatever they had to do. She looked around and her eyes landed on her handbag. There was something insight that could maybe give the right energy she needed.

She took the handbag and searched for the thing she was thinking about. She moved her right hand around, pushing away her makeup, her sunglasses, her perfume and then she felt it. The steel was cold and there was no way to miss that round shape with the big T on top. She took it out and immediately a different energy hit her. Was it the right one?

“Let’s go!”, her manager opened the door. The teen jumped in shock and dropped everything she had in her hands. She bent down but her manager called her once more. “I’ll get Jackson to pick it up, let’s go!”, the woman spoke firmly. She sighed and ran out of the changing room with her.

Both females waited on the side of the stage. The presenter was introducing her album to the cameras. Normally she loved live shows in front of a big audience, it made her feel alive. But this time she was glad that her first show on Jump City had no audience. She closed her eyes. Her emotions were starting to get all over the place as she thought about the it. There was no public on the studio, but this show was going to be broadcasted live to every TV in Jump City. And there was one big TV she really wished it didn’t broadcast to.

“Well, I don’t think I have to say anything else. Let me introduce you to the girl you’ve all been waiting see. The amazing, the powerful, the beautiful and talented: Starfire!”, the purple and green lights lit up as she walked into the stage. The music started and she did to.

“If you wanna run away with me I know a Galaxy and I can take you for a ride…”, Beast Boy sang as he danced in front of Raven and Cyborg. Cyborg jammed to the rhythm and sang some parts of the song too. Raven just moved her head and her feet as the music took over her body without her even noticing.

“I got you! Moonlight you are my starlight…”, Beast Boy kept dancing around. Cyborg accompanied the green teen bopping his head.

The doors to the living room opened. Robin walked in and went to the kitchen with a pizza box in his hands. The two teens kept jamming to the song, but Raven turned her body just a little bit to look at her other teammate. As Raven was about to call his name, he took out his phone, put on his headphones and opened the box to take out a slice.

The empath turned around again. This time both Cyborg and Beast Boy were up dancing to the music. Both teens tried to make her join them, pulling her from her seat. Beast Boy even tried tickling her to make her stand up, but she fought as hard as she could. The three laughed, jammed and enjoyed the music.

Suddenly the phone in the computer that was below the TV rang. Everyone froze. Cyborg sat next to Raven and they both looked away. The phone rang once more. Beast Boy sighed and he walked to the computer to take the call, but before he did Robin came in and hung up.

“Dude, what if it was an emergency?”, Beast Boy asked. “If it was then-“, Robin was cut off by Cyborg who stood up once more and he yelled. “She is flying, men! That’s not fair to Ariana Grande, but I’ll allow it because she’s Star”, Cyborg laughed. Beast Boy looked back at the screen and sang with Starfire as the song came to an end.

The phone rang once more, and Robin hung up again. The song ended and the three other Titans clapped. Robin sat on the computer, avoiding looking at the TV.

The presenter came back on stage and he hugged Starfire. “The Tamaranian princess Starfire is back in town!”, the man clapped. “Once a Teen Titan and now one of the biggest celebrities. How does it feel to go from fighting crime in Jump City to opening for Taylor Swift’s latest tour and now getting your own world tour?”, the man asked. She smiled. “It is most unreal, I feel very grateful”, she answered, and Beast Boy laughed. “She is most our Starfire still”, Raven shushed him. “And how do you feel know that you are not saving lives with our local superhero team the Teen Titans?”, she took a couple of second to think before she opened her mouth again. “I am most thankful for everything I learned as a Teen Titans but perhaps I am saving lives in my own way with my music”, she smiled at the end, but Raven could tell she wasn’t really sure of her own response. Robin chuckled. “Way to go”, he mumbled as he stood up and walked back to the kitchen.

“I’ll leave you with the new princess of pop now! What song will you sing for us, Starfire?”, she smiled and looked around. “I do not know”, she giggled playfully. “Be the one, please. Be the one, pleeease. BE THE ONE PLEEEEASE”, Beast Boy moved forward on his seat. “Be the one!”, she said joyfully. Beast Boy stood up as he yelled in excitement. The song started and he sang with the alien singer. “This one’s new?”, Cyborg asked. Beast Boy took the CD he left on the couch when he came to see the concert on the TV. He handed it to his friend and started dancing again. Raven and Cyborg looked at the CD and BB kept enjoying the song. From outer space, it read on the cover of the record. The album had come out just a week ago, but he already knew every song and he genuinely didn’t do it just because it was Starfire.

“Oh, baby come on let me get to know ya, just another chance so that I can show that I won’t let down. No, I won’t let you down- “, the phone rang again. “OH. COME. ON!”, BB angrily walked to the computer and picked up the call before Robin could stop him. “Hello, this is The Jump City Reporter, we wanted to know if we could ask you some questions about Starfire?”, a woman asked from the other side. “Yes, but could you call in like 5 minutes”, the shape shifter tried to get off the call, but the woman insisted. “Are you going to the concert tonight?”, she said. “We don’t have tickets, but we’d love to. Thanks for the questions. Bye!”, he hung up and got back to dancing around. “Oh man, I didn’t hear the second verse!”, he whined.

“What did she say?”, Robin asked. “She just wanted to know if we were going to the concert tonight, I told her that we didn’t have tickets. I didn’t say that you didn’t let us buy the tickets because you are a bitter dude. Chill”, Beast Boy got back to singing. Robin didn’t answer. He just walked off to the kitchen.

The song ended and Beast Boy kept whining about not getting to enjoy it. “Well, we could get the tickets right now. I mean, the city is not under attack and Robin’s too busy being all moppey to stop us”, Cyborg whispered. “Yes, Raven could take care of Robin while we go get three tickets”, Beast Boy sat beside the empath and started begging her to help them get to the concert.

“That was great, Starfire! Be the One is currently number two on the Billboard 100 just below Levitating and before Boom Clap. Everyone loves that Be the One. Where did you get the inspiration to write it?”, he asked. Robin heard the question and secretly stopped the music he was listening to. Starfire giggled as she took a moment to answer. “It was the first songs I wrote. I do not wish to reveal much about the magic behind the writing process, but I will say that I wrote it after one night in which I learned that Earth is full of amazing things”, she smiled at the end. The Ferris wheel, Robin thought. Did she write it for him?

“It sure is! Anything you want to say to anyone who’s watching this live in the comfort of their home sweet home?”, he moved aside so Starfire could speak directly to the camera. “Yes. I am glad to be back in Jump City. I have been feeling the sickness of the home. So, I wish to see you tonight. It has been so long, but I will always have a special place for this city in my heart!”, Beast Boy acted like he was sobbing. “I’ve missed you too, Star”, Cyborg said softly and Raven nodded because she shared the same feeling with the half robot.

“Come on, we have to go to the concert. We have to be there for her. It’s the first concert of the tour. She’s been there for us every time we needed her”, Beast Boy stood up once more to make his speech. Cyborg nodded. “You’re right for once, BB”, he added, and Raven sighed before joining in. “I guess I can help you keep Robin distracted”, she mentioned, and BB hugged her laughing of happiness.

“Thank you so much for being here, Starfire! We are glad and sad to announce that the ticket’s for tonight’s concert are sold out!”, the presenter announced, and BB jumped out of the couch. “Oh, come on! Is Jinx around or something?”, he looked below the coffee table in the middle. “Is there other way we can get some tickets?”, the empath asked. “I don’t think so. Not like we got someone that knows someone that owns half the country”, he sighed. “It’s useless, he won’t call his batdad, we are on our own”, Beast Boy sat on the floor below the computer and at the same time it rang once more. He jumped and answered the call. Robin ran but couldn’t get there on time.

“Hello, Teen Titans To- “, he stopped himself. “Aha”, he nodded. “Yes”, he nodded once more. “What?!”, he yelled this time. “Oh, man! I mean, woman. Thanks! Yes, sure. We’ll be there”, he hung up.

“What did you just do?”, the leader asked. “Nothing”, BB answered walking to his other teammates. “Beast Boy!”, Robin called his name in one of those almost yelling but not tones he did when he was mad. “Well…”, the shape sifter stood beside Raven and Cyborg. “The Teen Titans are going to Starfire’s concert for free and we’ve got VIP tickets with a meet and greet pass!”, he celebrated, and his friends did too. Everyone but Robin. Would he be able to handle seeing Starfire singing that song now that he knew that maybe it was for him? What if there were other songs for him in the album? He hadn’t listened to it. And the meet and greet. What if he couldn’t hide how he felt? He couldn’t allow himself to show her. He couldn’t allow her to see that he missed her.


A/N: Heeeey! Sooooo, I’m not abandoning Secret Apprentice, don’t worry. But I had this story in my head since I found this post . I made playlists for the From Outer Space album which will come in handy for next episodes and are in a special order that will make sense later, I promiiiiseee. This fanfic will be 3 chapters long and RobStar is reuniting soon, get ready. I hope you like this story. Let me know what you think! Byeeee <3

[lunnanunna]

Feature

iKON Extra Member AU

Summary: Bao tries to figure out who she wants to add as a feature on her song.

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @hyunmijung​ @galacticstxrdust​ @kimonmars​ @soobinssmile​ @markszone​

A/N: I’m excited to write about Bao working on her mini album! Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

Bao woke up to a knock at the door. She groaned, her neck and back protesting as she sat up. She had fallen asleep at her desk in her studio. Nothing new, but the pain was still a bitch.

Rolling her neck side to side, another knock sounded. Bao woke up her computer to see that it was currently 9:30 AM. (Who the hell was knocking at this ungodly hour?)

“Bao?” The rapper squinted at the light that came in from the door that was now open. Bobby was poking his head in. He looked around the dark room, then his eyes landed on Bao who was glaring at him. Bobby grinned, stepping into the room, Junhoe behind him, and turning on the lights.

“Why?” Bao hissed. After her eyes adjusted, she pushed herself from her desk, and stood up to stretched. The two boys walked over to her couch and sat down.

“You didn’t come home last night,” Junhoe said, picking up Luffy figurine that she had yet to unbox and place it on her shelf with the other figures.

“Put that down,” Bao said, not even looking at him. She was facing away from them, grabbing a shirt from the duffel bag that she had in the corner. Bao spent many nights at the studio and had learned to keep some clothes there for these exact reasons.

She took off her current shirt and threw on the new one. It smelled relatively clean. Bao made a mental note to bring these clothes home and wash them soon.

“And I had planned to come home last night,” Bao said, turning back to the boys. She finger combed her hair then threw it up in a bun.

“But you didn’t,” Bobby said, shrugging and leaning back in his seat. He watched as Bao, reached for the coffee that he had brought. She grabbed the large cup along with a donut and then sat back in her chair.

“So why didn’t you?” Junhoe asked. He already knew the answer, as he looked at the open editing software.

Bao shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee, ignoring the slight burn on her tongue in favor of being able to function more like a human being. “The ushe,” Bao answered through a mouth full of the pastry. They had gotten her favorite kind, red velvet.

“Did you figure out the bridge or that verse for track four?” Bobby asked, recognizing the song that was pulled up onto the screen.

“Sort of. Not really.” Bao shook her head, looking over at the screen. She had literally the whole song figure out, except for the bridge and the third verse. This song had been the bane of her existence for the last week. “I’m open to suggestions,” Bao said, turning back to the boys

“What if you added a feature to the song? Maybe it’ll add something different to it,” Junhoe suggested, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Whoever you get to feature could even come up with their own lyrics, and that could solve your problem,” Bobby added, agreeing with the vocalist. Junhoe snapped his fingers at the idea.

Bao thought it over. That’d be three out of her four songs for her mini album that would have a feature, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was definitely hard finding the right fit. 

Bobby and Junhoe were already being featured on one song. Bao had gotten Tablo to be featured on another. And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to add a feature on this song.

“Vocalist or rapper?” Bobby asked, head resting in his hand, elbow propped on the armrest.

The girl looked at him, running her tongue over her teeth. She mulled over both options, but with how mellow and dark the song was, and the fact that she was singing for a majority of it, she felt like a rapper would be the best fit. Now to just figure out who.

“I think rapper,” she answered, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“That sounds good. Any ideas?” Junhoe asked, offering her another donut, this one being a glazed one. Bao took it and leaned back, biting into it.

“I have a few people I could call up, but none of them seem to fit right,” Bao shrugged. She tilted her head slightly as she ran through a mental list of all the rappers she knew.

“How about that rapper from Stray Kids?” Bobby suggested. Bao paused at the thought. Stray Kids had some pretty good rappers.

“Which one?” she asked, smirking. The group was literally all made up of rappers.

“One of the main ones. Shit, what’s his name?” Bobby furrowed his eyebrows as he looked for the name. “He’s the one who opens their newer song,” Bobby said, still forgetting the name.

“God’s Menu?” Junhoe asked, looking at him. Bobby nodded.

“Ahh. Changbin,” Bao said. Bobby nodded his head again, smiling at the name. Bao shook her head, chuckling. Changbin was a good rapper. He was more than good, actually. She had been impressed when the group had come to YG to battle about with the trainees. 

iKON was supposed to have been practicing, but Hanbin, Bobby, and Bao had been curious, seeing as it had been rumored that JYP had some crazy rappers. Sp they snucked out, to watch. And the rumors were right. Ever since that day, Bao had found and listened to all of 3Racha’s songs.

“You know? That could be a thing,” Bao said, nodding, already imagining how his voice would sound with what she had so far.

“Yeah?” Bobby asked, quirking a brow.

“I’m gonna have to talk to both of our companies, and get his number, but if I get the okay, then this song could be pretty awesome,” Bao smiled, already excited. She pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts.

“Who you calling?” Junhoe asked, trying to look at her screen from where he sat. Bao didn’t answer him. She placed her donut down and called the number that she had pulled up.

The phone rang three times, then “Hello?”

“Hey, Ollie,” Bao greeted. Bobby and Junhoe looked at each other then at her, confused. Obviously, they didn’t know that Bao actually knew Ollie personally.

“Bao! Hey!” Ollie greeted, chiper as ever. Bao rolled her eyes, still a bit groggy, even after having her coffee.

“Tone it down a bit, will ya?” Bao said, leaning back in her seat, throwing her head back.

“Pulled an all nighter?” Ollie asked in a knowing tone.

“If you already know, then why ask, you little shit?” Bao chuckled.

“Yah, Bao,” Bobby said incredulously, eyes wide. Bao waved him off.

“Well I wanted to make sure it was a music all nighter and not the other kind,” Ollie said. Bao could hear the smirk that sat on her lips.

“You’re lucky I’m not there. Or you’d be dead,” Bao threatened.

“Literally the only reason I said it,” Ollie laughed.

“Whatever. Anyways, I need you to do something for me,” Bao said, getting straight to business.

“What’s up?” Ollie asked.

“Can you give me Changbin’s number?” Bao asked, not wasting another second. Junhoe raised a brow, seemingly impressed.

“Why?” Ollie asked through a mouth full of food. Bao grimaced, barely understanding the simple word.

“I need him for a song,” Bao answered.

“Shit. Really? Fuck, he’s gonna cry,” Ollie cackled.

“Good cry or bad?”

“Oh, definitely good. The boy worships you,” Ollie said, and Bao smirked at the comment.

“Well this will be fun,” she chuckled.

“Very much so,” Ollie agreed. “I’ll text you his number, but I won’t tell him you’re gonna text him. I wanna see his expression, so let me know when you hit him up,” Ollie told her. Bao appreciated Ollie’s need to mock her members.

“Definitely. I’m curious to know too,” Bao chuckled.

“Okay, well I have to get going, but I'll send you his number once I hang up,” Ollie said. There was rustling from her end, then what sounded like a faucet being turned on.

“Sounds good. Take it easy, okay?” Bao said. She knew that Ollie was still healing, and she didn’t trust her to be careful and actually rest.

“Oh, not you too.” Bao could hear the pout.

“Yes, me too,” Bao smirked, shaking her head.

“Bye,” Ollie huffed, then hung up, not even giving Bao a chance to respond back.

“What a little rager,” Bao laughed, locking her phone and placing it on her desk. A few seconds later it lit up to signal a text from Ollie with Changbin’s number. Bao then got up, cleaning up any trash and grabbed her things.

“Going home to shower?” Bobby quirked a brow at her, smirking.

“And to sleep in an actual bed,” she answered, grabbing her things. The boys got up as well, following her out, after she turned everything off.

“When will you call him?” Junhoe asked as they walked down the hall.

“After a shower, nap, and quite possibly lunch. I’m gonna get Yunhyeong to make me something,” Bao said, nodding at her plan.

Bao’s Masterlist

[p1nkwitch]

If I may one last director's cut: And the Nightmare Collapses? 👁️

Ask as many as you want i dont mind.

Oh my monster au, what to say? I had this in the backburner for a few months now. Originally i was going to make a series of one shots from different characters perspectives.

So first it was going to be Jon waking up from the coma and realizing that everyone were monsters but him sort of like a walking dead scenario. I had the clear picture of him seeing Georgie in her hald deaf state being like, what the fuck happened???

Now the entire idea came to mind with how pissed off i was at everyone in season four acting like Jon was the worst for no discernable reason. Like, Melanie, Basira and Georgie, all treated him in different levels rather cruely. Georgie wasnt so mean, but she was playing blind eye to the whole thing being fucked.

So Jon is the only one who remains human because he tries so hard to keep his humanity despite everything. While everyone else becomes more monstruos, Basira and Melanie in particularly were much more affected, i had a clear vision of a slaughter Mel. But had to keep it brief since Georgie wouldnt want to dwell on her becoming a monster, since now she had no way to deny it. Daisy gets a pass because while on the coffin she regains her humanity by her regret of what she became, its why her changes are minimal in the text.

The other one shots were supposed to be from Elias and Peter perspective with the last being them reuniting.

Now my original idea had no reasoning as to why they were monsters all out sudden. Its not until i realized the potential of the entities just dropping in a world similar enough where they already existed and they end up overcharging, while still carrying the vestigies of the apocalipse that i went like-

Hoy fuck.

Ultimately i am happy with the one shot the way it came out, with Elias being able to see, he was capable of tying up those little threads i wanted to make and make the reference to having an anchor. Anchors tie you to humanity, people are fundamentaly capable of good if they wish too, kindness even in the face of despair, destroys the horrors of the world.

The world wont fix itself, but you adapt and grown and try to make it better.

Now as for the story itself? I just wanted to go buck wild with the scenery of reality fracturing itself and Elias just losing it while perceiving the horrors and understanding far more than possible.

I like eldritch horror i just dont use it enough, or horror shorts in general, maybe i should put up the small ones i made in tumblr they are like a paragraph long each.

For realsies, I really like the idea of monster Elias for several reasons and i wanted to go with it. I have another different take on this verse of how things pan out too, but i will see eventually if i want to write it. There is... also the horny aspec of Peter being, as the fic implies, a monster fucker, not really he just loves Elias whatever shape he comes even if its some weird owl spider thing. If i ever feel brave enough to go thought it in an extra will shall see.

Anyways Jonah goes through life replacing people while manipulating them and toying with their sanity like he did to the ogElias in his interview. Despite being beholding, as per the soup theory, at this point he also represents the stranger, web and spiral fairly well. I have a soft soft for him losing the ability to recognize himself after a while. Because as i pointed out? He kept sort of a more or less stable life, sure, but it must be jarring having to go from one face to another, to have to pretend to be someone else, at least enough that its not glaringly obvious that something is wrong.

So he loses it. The fears overcharge and it all stacks up on him, causing his transformation to be so strong, it ends up consuming him. Not only that but he is vain too, so to be changed into something so horryifing it breaks something else in him, it gives him the idea that no one could want him now, he cant make people do as he says like this, he doesnt know himself and now no one would want to know him anyways. The more he changes the more he loses his sense of self, its not only him, he was so many people it feels weird to be just him, it doesnt fit anymore, so through the story he starts to use they until its what he mainly uses at the end, because he grows and its happy with it by the very end.

His body changes when he doubts himself, the more time it passes the more he forgets. Now the main reason he didnt become a puddle of ink and die, was because as i mentioned he thought about being alone, and it made him think of Peter, that was his last connection, the last thread to a humanity he wasnt sure he still had. When he thinks that he loves him, even if a little, its enough to let him move.

That small lifeline is what actually saved him and what kept him more or less stable for longer that he would have otherwise. Same goes to Peter whos last action before becoming one with his siblings was pick up the phone, the same though went through him, its why even if he was already at the brink of being melded he kept himself alive for longer.

Then there was the idea of copies.

Because, eyes? just the eyes?? I know it works with supernatural energy but, the doubt, the idea or posibility that Jonah Magnus actually died the moment he transplanted his eyes the first time and that Beholding merely put the copied memories of Jonah that it reatained into the new body was such a good concept, i have a special love for it, to not be sure if you are you, but ultimately chosing to live your life despite knowing that you may not be the real one.

I like to point out at the end that he does, that he is the original and that he is not a copy but... its not really proof, Jonah wants to believe it is. Wether is true or not? Thats up to anyone.

Also his monster concept, i toyed with a few options, and ended up adding it somewhat in the final product, originally he was going to be sort of an owl monster sort of mixed with a cat, no not for the joke, i saw really nice fanart of owlcats and i was in love. But as it is i went with something similar to his body in the afterlife beach party.

Instead of tar it was the ink of the letters he wrote, the static remains because he doesnt know his face anymore and he wont again. The fur... i just wanted something nice for later when Peter made his appearence, less sticky more fluffy. 8 arms like a spider, more eyes because of beholding- you get it.

Speaking of Peter!!

Here is the deal, i know or at least believe that the curruption? Is the oposite of the lonely and viceversa. Wanting to be alone vs being consumed by what you love? Perfect.

So the Lukases become amalgamations of fog trapped in a hive mind that they cant escape from. Forced to be together and then to be alone once someone manages to impose themselves like Nathaniel did. Peter could have theorically left his siblings become him, after Elias saw them, but in this, the closenes they shared was enought that he could not do it. <3<3

I wanted to play with the fact that being stuck with so many people, mainly his sisters while slowly melding into one, made him switch from pronouns feeling comfortable in all of them. Lydia, Judith and Clara were all nice and accidentaly he wanted to feel that nice, so he switches more often to her. It too, because at one point he was litreally nothing since the rest were rather happy being one.

Reality check comes and they all realize that, oh shit we fucked him up. Hence the road trip, unfortunately the melding was inevitable, either they became one or someone took charge. Still it gives them time to bond too, which adds to the decision to let them stay with him despite everything. Peter plays into a similar idea, but from a different perspective, you lose yoursef but become a different person. Luka is all of them being at peace with being one, being happy and wanting the same thing, but still mantaining some way to be apart. If i was being sappy i would liken it to a fusion in Steven Universe.

It wasnt as such at first, but later once Peter is the main body they can do it with less fear of dissapearing. It is also true that his feelings bleed out onto them and likewise to him. Its hard being a single being while simultaniously be 5 people in one.

They do love Elias, except for Clara who is mostly just enjoying the company while judging everyones tastes. It is also true that if this hadnt happened they would never have tried it. But life works oddly. Plus they are happy.

The world cant be fixed, but life sort of goes on and people adjust as they can.

Final note? I really, reeeeally wanted to have JME corpses just drop and have everyone freak out. There was a brief idea of having them alive and react to what they did to the world, but i did not want to deal with that many explanations. So yeah, they are dead.

AGAIN SORRY FOR GOING OFF!!! I NEED TO BE STOPPED.

D:

If you want to ask something in particular go ahead i have the ideas still fresh for this one in my head.

[jaeminlore]

Amor Libertatis | Mark

summary: the freedom of love.

words: 12.4k+

category: fisherman!mark x princess!reader, FLUFF, angst, a lot of wordbuilding i got carried away

warning(s): death mention, war mention, blood mention, mark smells like fish, repetitive writing

a/n: alternate title is The Multiple Confessions of Two Dumbasses Who Don’t Get It™️

The ballroom is a grand flourish of shiny hardwood floors and high ceilings. The firelight of the chandeliers reflects off of blue quartz stones, sending a blue haze around the room. White roses hang from the doors, leaving every guest with a shoulder of rose petals by the time they enter the room.

It's genuinely beautiful, and it seems to put the staff of the palace in good spirits. The cooks set out fluffy miguelitos and bubbly rosé cava over cream-colored doilies. The servants fake-fight with the leftover rose stems, shrieking in laughter when one of them gets pricked. 

The guests will be here any moment. You, as part of your coronation celebration, invited every fisherman and sailor in the kingdom for a night of repose. Though many of your noble friends were apprehensive about it, you have found favor with the staff, and together, you worked out a special night for the main exporters of your kingdom.

The royal band is rehearsing in the corner; the sound of a bandurria tuning echoes throughout the room. Someone plays a sour note on their guitar, and it sparks a jolt of laughter throughout the room.

The tall windows are unlatched and open wide, sending the sound of waves crashing and fishermen shouting up into the cliffside castle.

You feel elated, amazed at the joy that runs throughout the room. Looking out the window, you can see a bunch of fishermen bringing their boats into the harbor. The men are joking around and laughing, and you can't help but selfishly think they're all excited for tonight.

"Anna," you call one of the servants over. 

She slips her arm around yours and peers out of the window with you. "They look happy."

"Yes," you say, following the form of one small child as he races up and down the docks. "Has the transportation been set out for the families? With outfits from the measurements we took?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Anna sounds almost as excited as you. "By tonight, we'll have a ballroom full of families. The entire west wing has been cleared for the children to sleep in as well, should the parents drink too much calent." 

You giggle at her words. "Yes, that's very smart. Remind me to thank the nannies for all they're preparing for the children. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Anne sighs wistfully, eyes locked on the faraway docks. "Do you think any fishermen our age will come by?"

"Are you on the lookout for a husband, Anne?" You quip with a remarked stare. 

The girl elbows you gently. She lifts her nose into the air indignantly. "I'm of age. It's proper."

"Oh, it's proper alright," you giggle, hastily avoiding Anne's next, not-as-gentle elbowing to the side.

-

The castle looms over the docks like an ominous shadow. Mark peers up at it, wondering why on earth any fisherman would feel welcome there. "We're going to stand out like sore thumbs."

"It's for us, you buzzkill," Jaehyun shoves an empty bucket into Mark's arms. "Take this to the lower deck."

Mark can't help but wonder if Jaehyun ever thinks about how bad they smell. He wonders how many royals will be at this ball, and he wonders how many will laugh at him. He ignores Jaehyun's instructions. "Do you think it's a set up?"

Jaehyun sighs and uses the bottom of his already-dirty shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He's obviously tired of Mark's worrying, but he'll never say it out loud. "I think the princess is doing her best to make allies after what the last monarchs pulled."

Mark still remembers it: the day many fishermen were taken from their homes and forced to fight a war that wasn't theirs. They became a navy of untrained soldiers against pirates and merchants with no morale and a lot of weapons. He remembers the last day he ever saw his father and brother. He remembers wanting to fight, too, but being too young. He remembers becoming a fisherman as young as ten years old, because he had to provide for his grieving mother. Then she couldn't handle it any more, and he had to attend a funeral for three people instead of two.

He remembers that no one ever let him grieve, and the castle feels ominous all over again. "I don't know if I'm going to go."

"Aren't you curious?" Jaehyun asks. "Don't you want to see if the princess is going to apologize? Or if she's just as fake as her parents before her?"

Mark wonders if the princess ever got to mourn. 

"I don't know if I want to find out," Mark admits. He adjusts the heavy bucket and goes to do the job he is getting paid to do. He turns to shout over his shoulder, "But if you go, bring me back some castle food!"

-

Mark, of all people, knows what it feels like to be alone. He must be the only fisherman not excited about the party, and it's not all for shallow reasons. Mostly, he's the only one without a family to take. 

He thinks of Jaehyun, bringing his brothers, and Kun, bringing his family — a wife and two daughters. He thinks of Lucas' little son, who can't stop talking about the outfit he was measured for. 

There is such joy in sharing with others, and Mark knows he'll feel extremely alone if he goes. He'll just burden all of his friends, who want to be with their families. 

He checks all of the boats and makes sure they're secure at the harbor. The night is warm and windy. The party is surely starting soon, or perhaps it has already started. 

He looks up at the castle. Light pours from the large windows. If he listens close enough, he can hear the sound of music and laughing.

He wants to climb on a boat and sail away for the night, just to forget all of it.

"Are you not going to join the festivities?" 

Mark jumps at the noise. He turns around and sees a girl, dressed in turquoise-colored silk. There's a split down each side, so that when she walks, Mark notices the knee-length sandals. That's normally a tell that someone is royal, but then again, he wonders if the princess gave everyone royal-grade clothing.  He wouldn't know.

He realizes he hasn't answered. He's just been staring for an odd amount of time. "Er, no. I'm not exactly a dancer," he lies, thinking it's easier than belting out his own personal sob story.

"I can't either," the girl says. She gives him a bright smile. "Something I think that makes dancing more fun."

Mark shrugs. He feels warm, but he brushes it off as the mugginess of the night. "I have to secure the boats, and I smell like fish."

"The entire ballroom smells like fish," she says, and Mark thinks for a moment that she's being insulting. Then, he receives another bright smile. "It's wonderful! It feels like we're right on the docks, dancing and laughing. One of the lovely fishermen is teaching my– er– the ladies about sea shanties. They're rather dirty in verse, but it's fun to sing them! I'm sure we'll be hearing the words down the corridors for weeks to come."

She says everything nearly out of breath. Her cheeks are red, and she seems to always be on the verge of a laugh. Every word that comes out of her mouth seems spoken in prose, so much so that Mark wonders how anyone could find life so rewarding. 

"I suppose you're a noble, then," he says. 

"I am."

Mark risks another look at her face (though he had never actually looked away) and notices her hair is gathered into a braid. It cascades down her chest and ends with a seashell clipped to the bottom. Her eyes reflect the moonlight.

He feels self conscious all of a sudden. "Well, have fun then."

"Won't you come?" 

Mark stills the moment her hand comes into contact with his. She's close now, clasping his hand like it will change his mind. Maybe it will.

"I don't really belong there."

"Everyone belongs," she says sternly, eyes suddenly hard. "I won't let anyone tell you different. This ball is about coming together as equals and apologizing for past grievances. This is a new start. You should be a part of it."

Mark isn't sure why, but he lets her pull him all the way up the cliffs, straight into the castle.

-

The boy does look out of place, you notice. "Here, let's get you into some regal clothing."

You desperately hope he doesn't ask what type of noble you are, because you would really hate to lose the trust of this young fishermen you've found. Something about his hesitance makes you think he wouldn't want to meet the princess. He wouldn't want to meet you.

You bring him into one of the spare rooms and leaf through the wardrobe. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Uh. Mark." 

You toss a black shirt and trousers at him. "Change into these, Mark. Behind that screen."

The top of his head can be seen over the screen, so you focus on his black locks while you wait. "My name is Y/n. It's a pretty common name, I know."

"I haven't heard it before," Mark comments, struggling with a piece of clothing. 

When he comes out from behind the screen, his shirt is tucked in and rolled up the fisherman way. You find it adorable, because it's how every man showed up this evening. Still, you can't help but want to see what Mark would look like dressed as a noble.

You approach him and pull his sleeves down, clipping the seashell cufflinks where they belong. Then, you grab a turquoise cummerbund and wrap it around the black attire, tying it in the back so that it's the only pop of color on his body. 

You step back and look at him. "Very handsome. Oh! I'll get some oils so you don't feel self-conscious about your smell."

He doesn't smell that bad. Honestly, it's obvious that a fisherman would smell a little funny: it's part of the job. So it's nothing to make fun of, really.

Still, you find some lavender and lemon scented oils in the vanity and sprinkle them onto his shoulder and neck. "Now don't rub it in. Just let it set."

Mark still looks out of place. Not in appearance, he just has this look on his face that says "I don't want to be here."

"I promise you'll have a nice time," you say. "And if not, we can sneak out a jug of cante and get out of here, yeah?"

Mark's face softens with relief and he smiles. "Okay."

"Great! Now let's go!" You grab his hand and pull him down the hallway, into the grand ballroom.

Mark lets out an audible gasp of surprise at the decorations, and the people. "It's... It's really nice."

"Thank you," you say. "It took forever to plan."

"You planned it?" Mark asks, eyeing you confusedly.

The base of your neck feels hot. "I helped, I mean. It's impossible for one person to plan a grand display like this."

"Right. Oh, there's Jaehyun." Mark points to the tall man talking to Anne. "He's my friend."

"He's talking to my friend, Anne. We should go talk to them!"

Jaehyun looks surprised to see Mark at the party. He looks even more surprised to see his hand in yours. "You work fast, don't you, Mark?"

Mark jerks his hand out of your grip. "She uh, she was just helping me find something to wear."

Anne eyes you. "Was she? Were you given no clothes?"

"I found him on the docks," you say quickly, trying to telepathically talk to Anne with your eyes. "I thought he might like to join us."

"I tried to get him to come along," Jaehyun says, smiling. His smile is sweet, soft like fluffy icing. "If I had known all I needed was a pretty girl to convince him, I would've done it sooner."

"Ah, it wasn't like that," Mark says. He fiddles with the cummerbund, hooking his thumb under the seam and running the pad across. "She just said you guys were having fun. So I thought I would try it."

Jaehyun looks like he wants to say more, but he hides his smile behind a gulp of rosé. 

Anne greets Mark. "Is it just you?"

Mark bristles. "Yeah," he says, a warning laced in his voice. "For a long time now."

"No wife?" Anne presses, and you notice Mark keeps tensing.

"Anne, that's enough," you say. "I'm going to show Mark around."

You pull the reluctant boy over to the closest table of food and hand him a fluke of pink liquid. "I'm sorry about her. She doesn't mean to be as invasive as she is."

Mark downs the entire thing in one gulp and stares down at his shoes. "Yeah, it's fine. I just. You know, not all of our families survived the war."

Your heart softens, and your chest burns with the sort of empathy one gets when they've experienced grief. "From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. If my— if the king and queen had known what they were truly doing—"

"It shouldn't have even crossed their minds," Mark snaps, cutting a cold glare across the room. "Where is the princess anyway? Isn't she supposed to apologize for their mistakes tonight?"

Your voice feels watery in your throat. "She already did. That's how she opened the night."

"Huh," Mark furrows his brows. "What did she say?"

You swallow down your urge to get upset. He's only asking for closure. "She apologized for her parents' actions. Said she hopes to rule better than them, and never have to put the lower class in danger like that again. She reminded everyone that you are just as important as she is, and that you deserve the same rights as her — you should get to choose if you want to fight."

Mark looks torn. "Okay," he says, and drops the subject for the night.

-

Mark goes home pretty quickly after that. He feels pain in the depths of his stomach, and he knows he shouldn't take it out on you, so he leaves.

He walks home, since his home is just a simple shack right under the cliffs near the ocean. He unties the cummerbund and rips the cuff links off of his sleeves. 

With the moon as his only light, he sits on the beach with his feet in the tide. He watches the moon until it becomes hard to keep his eyes open, and then he goes to sleep, the smell of lavender and lemon still on his skin.

He's on net-making duty the next day, so he sits in the same spot on the beach. His hands burn from the amount of times he's pulled on the ropes, making sure they're tight and secure enough to hold hundreds of fish. 

The waves lap at his ankles until midday, when the tide retracts, and he's left hot and sweaty under the sun. 

That's when you arrive.

You look different from last night, dressed down this time in a pair of cotton trousers and a simple white shirt. Your boots crunch over the sand and pebbles as you walk over and hand him a package. "I had your clothes cleaned."

Mark eyes the package for a moment before he sighs, drops his net, and takes it. "Thanks."

"Sure." You point to the net. "Did you make that by yourself?"

Mark accidentally lets out a laugh. "Well, nets don't just appear, you see."

You shove his arm, and Mark finds that your hand feels almost cool against his hot skin. "I know that. I was going to compliment you, but I think I'll take it back now."

"Oh no," Mark says. A teasing smile makes its way to his face before he can stop it. "How will I keep going, now?"

You giggle. It makes Mark feel abnormally proud, as if he's suddenly the funniest person on earth. Which he certainly isn't. He knows it's weird, so he tries to bury it down in the same place he buried the memory of your hand in his. "Shouldn't you get back to the castle?" It comes out more harshly then he intends it to, but he really can't be around you for too long without feeling weird things. Odd things.

"I suppose," you shrug. "I don't want to though. I spent all morning helping clean up and I just want to rest now. 

Mark feels a blister forming under his thumb. "Sounds rough."

"Sorry," you manage to look bashful. "I know I have it good. I shouldn't complain. Hey, maybe I could help you!"

"I don't need help," Mark says. "Besides, you wouldn't know how to tie these knots."

"I would if you'd teach me." You catch Mark's gaze and hold it until he looks away, shaking his head softly. You begin to plead. "Look, I'm a really quick learner! And I don't make my tutors repeat things! I can help!"

"You have a tutor?" Mark scoffs. "Aren't you learning a lot more interesting things than how to tie knots?"

"I'm learning about foreign policies,"  you roll your eyes. "And while it's important, it's tragically boring. I think the life of a sailor must be much more fun."

Mark can agree with that. In fact, he plans on one day having his own boat, and spending his enter life on the water, away from people and families and the castle and any other reminder of his loss. "I'm going to sail away one day. No one will ever see me again."

You stay quiet for a moment, and Mark begins to wonder if he somehow offended you. Surely not. You've only known him for a day; you wouldn't care if he left. Then you say, "You're quite sure no one would miss you, then?"

"Why would they? Everyone has their own lives. Everyone has moved on already."

You sit with Mark in silence while he finishes his net, and then you bid him goodbye just as Jaehyun invites him to his house for supper. 

Mark sort of wishes you would have stayed, and he could've spent the night sitting beside you.

-

The castle feels empty more than full most nights. You suppose it's just your heart, reaching around corners for a parent that no longer exists. You remember when they both came down with tuberculosis. You remember not being able to see them during their last few months. You remember living in a little cottage with your advisor as the castle was inspected and cleaned. 

Sometimes you think the castle is haunted by the souls of your parents. There have been many nights when you feel someone stroking your hair the way your mother used to. Maybe you're just making it up, but you like to think she's still with you, as well as your father.

You love them dearly. Though everyone says the tuberculosis was karma for sending so many innocent people into battle, you can't help but want to ask what other option they had.

The pirates had been closing in on all sides. The castle's knights were already on the sea, fighting, and they needed reinforcements. Who else could've been chosen? No one else knew the sea as well. And in the end, it worked, and many of the fishermen returned home to their families.

You figure Mark is one of the unlucky ones.

If you could, you'd take it all back. No one would fight at all, and you'd fix it some other way, whether diplomatically or not. Definitely not by sending innocent people into battle. That was never the goal.

You kiss your mother's rosary and tuck it against your chest. Maybe she would be proud of the steps you're taking. Maybe she would desperately disagree with getting so close to the lower class.

But they aren't disposable. That had been proven in just one night, when you met every fisherman and their family personally. They are all important. They are all real. They are alive, and they won't be used as pawns ever again.

Your bedroom is just as empty as the halls. But here, the walls don't echo, so you freely recite a prayer to your mother, asking her how to do this. How to make hard decisions and save people at the same time. How to rule a country without losing your heart.

-

You don't see Mark until a week later, when he's seen helping sell fish at the market. 

There's a scarf tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes, and it's rather cute the way his wavy black hair falls over it. You approach the smelly booth and shoot Mark a wide smile. "How have you been?"

"Me?" Mark's eyes widen, and he uses his gloved hand to point to himself.

"Who else? The mackerel?" You point to a random fish.

"Actually, that's a bream." Mark says with a smile. Then he frowns. "I don't know how I've been. My hands are burning from making nets all week, and all I can think about is dipping them in these ice buckets. But there are fish guts in those, so I've been able to contain myself."

You laugh, catching the eye of another fisherman. "Oh, hi, Jaehyun."

"Hey, Y/n. Come to take Mark away from the torturous life of a fisherman?" He rests his hand on his forehead dramatically. 

"Can I do that?" you ask, looking from one boy to the other.

"He always eats at my house anyways," Jaehyun says. "And it's my boat he works for, so sure. Just don't make him use his hands," he winks.

You cough out a laugh, sure your cheeks are just as red as Mark's.

Mark quickly unties his apron and shoves his gloves off of his hands. You notice his palms are pink and raw, and it makes you think of the healers back at the castle. "Hey, I know you're not a big fan of the castle, so I can go by and get it, but I have a balm that can heal your hands a lot quicker."

Mark looks up towards the faraway cliffs, where the castle stands. "Maybe... if we don't take long... I can go back in."

-

Mark kind of wishes his hands weren't messed up. Not because they would hurt less (though that would be nice) but because now you aren't trying at all to hold his hand, and that makes Mark just a tad bit sad. Okay, maybe a lot more than a tad bit.

You bring him into a healer's room, where the walls are draped in herbs and random flowers that probably have some sort of healing properties. He sees a boiling cauldron in the corner, and shelves upon shelves of vials. 

"Ten is quite the hoarder," you say as a way of explanation. 

He sits on the cot while you grab the balm and some bandages. Then, you sit beside him and take his left hand first. You place it upturned on your lap and rub the balm into his skin using small circular motions, the way Ten taught you awhile ago.

He hisses in pain, and it's quite obvious that the blisters are infected. 

"Should I drain them before I bandage them?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Mark whimpers, and then he huffs like he's heard Lucas' son do many times before. "It's probably better if you do."

"Just don't watch," you say hastily. "It'll hurt less."

Mark keeps his head hidden in your shoulder the entire time, refusing to look until both of his hands are drained and bandaged. He focuses on the way your skin smells like the sea salt, but in a sweet way. Like you've somehow only extracted the good parts of the ocean. 

When you officially announce that your done, Mark looks up. His senses are overwhelmed by both the pain, and the smell of your skin, so when he finds himself nose to nose with you, it's hard not to lean in. 

Just before his lips touch yours, he hears the door open.

It breaks his trance, and he blinks, backing up a short distance. He brings his hands back to his own lap.

A man — Ten, Mark supposes — walks in. "Oh, Your Highness. What's wrong?"

Mark almost laughs. Who would mistake someone for the princess? But then your face pales, and you look like you've just been punched in the gut.

"Your Highness?" He says quietly, hoping he somehow heard wrong. "You told me you were a noble."

"I am," you say, folding in on yourself timidly.

Ten sees that he's made a mistake, so he quickly grabs a bundle of rosemary and runs out of the door. 

"Princess Y/n? That's your name?" Mark asks again, feeling his bones go cold. He can't like the princess. He can't have almost kissed the princess. He can't fall for the girl who's parents inadvertently got his family killed.

He stands up. "I have to go."

"Mark, wait—" you reach for the boy, but he backs away from your touch, reaching for the door. "I'm sorry."

He opens the door. "I have to go," he repeats, shaking his head and escaping the room.

-

Your coronation is in two days, and all you can think about is Mark and his family.

You can guess what happened, as it happened to a lot of families during that time. Of course, Mark is one of the only ones who kept the fishing trade after such a tragedy. 

You want to go see him, but something holds you back. If he blames you and despises you, he wouldn't want to see you under any circumstances.

But you can't help but think about him and all of the others who lost family due to your parents' poor decisions. Sure, you could throw a ball for present-day fishermen, but that doesn't cover the families of the passed.

They could be struggling or alone, and you don't want any of them to feel lost. You want them to find closure apart from a lavish party.

So you set your coronation back, and you get together with a few architects in the kingdom.

And as soon as the plan is set in motion, you head down to the docks, hoping Mark will be the first to know about it. He may reject you, but you want him to know. He deserves to know, as the one who inspired the project.

You find Jaehyun first, untangling a net at the end of his boat, feet hanging over the side, against the hull. "Hey, Jaehyun. Is Mark here? I really need to talk to him."

Jaehyun looks remorseful. "He left a while ago. Took his shabby sailboat and left for who-knows-where. 'Said he might come back. 'Said maybe not."

"Oh," you say. Your mind feels burdened, but you accept it. You have to. "Okay. Well, if he comes back—"

"I'll send him your way," Jaehyun gives you a pity-filled smile, like he knows what you're both thinking.

Mark probably isn't going to come back.

-

You focus on the project. 

One section of the kingdom courtyard is cleared, and now a tree stands, with a sign in front of it. The plaque reads off the names of all the deceased, and all the families affected. It reads off the history of the decision, and the conscious choice not to let history repeat itself.

You invite every family mentioned and offer them enough resources to keep them afloat for the remainder of their lives. You take the money out of the savings your father held aside for war and your mother held aside for your coronation, wedding, and honeymoon.

Surely, this is more important.

You can't think of why a coronation would have to be anything special enough to hold back resources that should have been gifted as soon as the war ended.

You know firsthand that the scars of grief won't heal completely, but this is certainly a start. This is a step in the direction of closure, and you do your best to prove to your people that you are genuine in this decision.

You sign a declaration stating that no one will be forced to fight again, and all procedures to prevent a war will be taken. War will be a last resort, lest anything happen to your people. God forbid.

That night you fall asleep feeling lighter than you have in years. 

You still wish Mark had been there to see it. To see that he has never been alone. 

You want to tell him that there's a room in the castle with his name on it, if he wants it. You want to tell him that he can stay here forever, and you'll do your best not to bother him. 

Most of all, you just want to know that he's safe.

-

Mark finds himself on a small island, and decides to stay for a few days. 

He'll come back, he knows that deep down. But it's only because he has something to come back to. Someone.

It's impossible to deny that he has some kind of feelings towards you. However weak they are, they're there. However platonic or romantic they may be, he wants to be around you. He doesn't want to go a long time without seeing you; talking with you. 

The fact that you're the princess has him at a standstill. Because, yeah, your parents made a horrible decision. But he knows you were only a child when it was made. You were his age. And when the king and queen were overcome by their illness just a few years later, you were left alone to rule.

Mark is beginning to think you know just as much about feeling alone as he does.

He sleeps on the beach beside a campfire. His stomach is only half-full, but he doesn't feel like eating any more of his rations. 

He looks across the vast horizon and imagines that you're in the castle, looking out. Maybe you can see the smoke, or maybe he's simply becoming a vapor in the wind.

Maybe you don't miss him, or care that he's gone. Maybe you're angry for the way he left.

Mark figures he should work on the whole impulse thing.

He'll come back one day, he knows. Just not yet.

-

You are crowned as queen a month later, when the sea is chilly and the air is biting. Your breath turns into frost as often as you breathe, waiting in anticipation for a boat that may never return home.

Days are filled with meetings and discussions over keeping the peace, and while you adore your country, you can't help but wish you were back on the docks that night, meeting Mark again for the first time.

You stay up late, nightmares eating at your mind. Your mother's ghost still lingers around, but she feels less comforting now, and you don't know why. Her presence makes the room cold and dark. Even her rosary doesn't feel as good as it once did.

Still you clutch it, and say a quick prayer to whoever will bring Mark home the fastest.

And when you look up, you can see a small sailboat, making its way towards the light of the lighthouse beam.

You hastily pull pants over your nightgown and throw a jacket over your shoulders before racing out of your bedroom, fingers still clutching your mother's beads.

You forgot to put on shoes. This would be fine, if the cliffs weren't so sharp. So, you slow your pace and pick a smoother path, not wishing to get any serious injuries.

The wood of the dock is cold. It's wet, too. The slimy kind of wet that makes you want to take a bath as soon as you feel it. But still you stand, eyes focused on that little sailboat, hoping it's Mark on his way home.

Your knees are aching, and you're shivering by the time the boat finally docks. But it's all worth it when Mark walks out, his clothes dirty and messed up.

He starts when he notices you, but once he realizes you are not, in fact, a ghost, he quickens his pace until he is right in front of you. "You're not mad at me."

"No," you say. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Mark breathes. A laugh of relief leaves his lips and he reaches forward to wrap you into a hug. "I'm sorry I did that. I acted impulsively and I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have," you scold, squeezing him as tightly as you can. "I was afraid for your safety every night."

Mark awkwardly pats your back until you let him go, and then he gives you a crooked smile. "I'm extremely tired. Do you think we could meet up in the morning?"

"You don't sleep in that shack during the winter, do you?"

Mark seems confused. "Yeah, why?"

"You'll get sick," you protest. "Won't you just come to the castle with me? I know you don't like it, but there's a room with your name on it if you want it."

Mark covers his mouth as he yawns. "You know what? I might take you up on your offer. Just for tonight, though." 

He seems set on his decision, and you're just thankful that he's alive, so you grab his hand and pull him up the cliffs, excited to have him with you once again.

-

Mark submerges his head completely under the water. You had a bath drawn for him, and you even filled it with lavender and lemon oils. Though the scents make Mark even drowsier than before, he's thankful that you remembered the scents.

They make him think of that night when he first met you, and that makes his heart warm.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the fluffy pillows. After being so used to sleeping on the ground, this feels like a cloud.

He gets the best sleep he's had in ages.

-

You wake up in a cold sweat, visions of Mark caught in a shipwreck wracking your body in waves. Shivers race down your spine, so you sit up and look around, counting the things in your room the way Ten told you to do when you feel on the verge of a panic.

Once the room stops spinning, you get up and begin to dress, excited to show Mark around your home. You want to show him the garden, and the memorial. 

You put on a yellow sundress and race out of the door. You knock incessantly on Mark's door until he finally opens it.

The sight that greets you makes your heart flutter worse than the dream. But it's in a different way. It's a positive and lovely flutter that zips all the way down to your toes. 

Mark is still in his nightclothes. One hand still on the door, the other goes up to rub his eyes. His hair is messy, shooting up in all different directions. His skin has gotten a lot darker since his voyage, and the stark contrast to his white shirt warms the pit of your stomach. "Morning," he mumbles.

You suddenly want to reach over and kiss him, just to capture that innocent look on his face. However, you mask that feeling with a smile. "Do you want to have breakfast? Or, if you're still tired, maybe we could just hang out here."

Mark looks longingly back at his bed. Then, to the still-dark sky outside the window. "Uh, what time is it?"

"Four in the morning," you say, heart skipping a beat.

"Four?" Mark gapes at you. "Shouldn't you be asleep still? Why are you dressed?"

You pout. "I had a nightmare and don't want to go back to sleep." 

Mark rolls his eyes and reaches for your hand. He pulls you into his room. "Get dressed into something comfier and let's go back to sleep."

You find a long nightshirt in his wardrobe, but you don't like the second part of his plan. From behind the dressing screen, you slip the silky fabric over your body. "I don't want to sleep. I'll have bad dreams again."

"What are they about?" Mark questions. He's lying on his bed, arms stretched out behind his head. The shirt he's wearing rides up at the hips the more he stretches, and you nearly get caught staring at the sliver of skin that shows. 

"Um. People I care about in dangerous situations," you say, not wanting to reveal that most of them are about him. It's just that your brain can't seem to catch up to the present. Maybe it hasn't caught on that Mark is here, safe, and not lost out at sea.

"But you have to sleep," Mark says. "We didn't get in until, like, midnight. You need more than that."

"I'll just lay beside you," you say, hoping it appeases him. "And we can get breakfast when you wake up."

Mark looks annoyed, but he doesn't say anything else. He shifts into his side, facing you, and closes his eyes.

You mirror his actions, burying yourself under his covers that already seem to smell like him. Like the sea and lavender and lemons. You take a deep breath and watch him fall asleep. You take note of the way his eyelids begin to flutter, and the noiseless mumbles coming from his lips. He's beautiful (and he falls asleep really fast, you notice.)

You reach out and clasp his shirt, fisting the loose fabric. Anchoring yourself to him makes this feel more real, and you hope your brain is finally catching up to the rest of you.

Sometime within the next thirty minutes, you fall asleep. And there are no nightmares. In fact, there are no dreams at all. 

-

Mark wakes up with his arms around somebody's waist, and for the life of him he can't figure out if he went to bed with anybody last night.

What was last night? His mind floods back to him sailing back to the mainland and finding you waiting for him. 

It's you. He groggily opens his eyes and sees you, curled against his chest, fingers clutched around the front of his shirt. And his arm is only holding you there, keeping you in his embrace until he wants to let go.

Mark loosens up his arm and settles for lying next to you, listening to the sound of your breathing. Soft snores emit every now and again, and a piece of his heart pinches with endearment. 

He's thankful you waited. He can't imagine how upsetting it would have been to come back and not have you greet him. He takes it a step further and wonders how he would have felt if you were betrothed; promised to another. Not that you were ever promised to him, but still. 

There's always a future possibility, he likes to imagine.

Though, to be honest, he has no idea what it means for you to be a queen. He wonders if there are rules against favoring a fisherman. Maybe you'll wake up and tell him that the two of you have to stay six inches apart now that you're queen. He has no idea.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" you snap him out of his thoughts.

Mark watches as a sleepy smile paints your lips. "Just... is this scandalous?"

You cover your mouth with your hand and giggle. Your eyes seem to twinkle at him, and it makes Mark glad that he coaxed you into going back to sleep for a few hours. "Don't you know we're a matriarchy?"

Mark gapes. "The line goes through the women?"

"Essentially, yeah," you say. "I can be around men as much as I please, so long as I one day have a female heir. Though that will not be any time soon, I'm very sure."

Mark remembers Lucas and his son, and he wonders what it'd be like to have a little one of his own. It's a comforting thought, like he might one day be able to find a family again. "Oh. Cool."

"Yeah," you say. "I mean, not that I normally find myself in the bed of different men, just... you know."

Mark clears his throat. "Yeah. Er, yeah."

"I didn't have any nightmares," you say. "So maybe it was good that I went back to sleep."

"You do need your sleep," Mark says. "It's important."

You change the subject. "What should we do after breakfast?"

"Well, I really have to go see Jaehyun and ask for my position on his boat again." Mark feels sheepish for cutting his time with you short, but he needs to make an income. "I can visit you soon, though."

"Maybe we could sail together one day," you say. Mark can tell you're masking your disappointment, and it makes his heart clench. 

"Definitely," he says, if not just to watch your eyes light up.

-

Jaehyun kept Mark's spot open while he was gone, hoping he would return. "Why do you look so nice?"

"Oh," Mark runs his hands through his hair and avoids Jaehyun's gaze. "I spent the night at the castle."

Jaehyun snickers knowingly, and when Mark tries to deny whatever it is he's thinking of, he only gets louder. "I can't believe you spent the night with the queen and you want to be humble about it."

"It wasn't like that," Mark says, defending you. "Don't be weird about it. We're friends."

"Fine," Jaehyun rolls his eyes. "If you don't want to be the future king, fine."

"Actually, it's a matriarchy, so I wouldn't even be king. I'd be like, the consort or something." Mark grunts as he lifts a fishing net onto his back. "Which is kind of cool when you think about it."

"You don't want power?" 

Mark scoffs, looking back at his friend. "Imagine me running a country. I can't count a million ways that would go wrong. Y/n is better suited, obviously."

"Yeah," Jaehyun matches Mark's stride. "I was kind of on the fence about her reigning instead of a regent, but then she set up the monument and signed that treaty. I think that's the most badass thing I've ever seen anybody do."

"What monument?" Mark shifts the weight of the net and dumps it on the deck of Jaehyun's ship. They begin to untangle it and spread it out to get ready for tomorrow's voyage. 

"Are you kidding me? The one inspired by you? I thought Y/n would've told you as soon as she saw you."

"I kind of left as soon as I woke up. And last night we were both so tired..." Mark fiddles with his sleeves. "What is the monument about?"

"It's a memorial," Jaehyun's voice carries a more somber tone. He lost his father in that war, too. "It's literally engraved in stone, the mistakes her parents made, and the promise not to repeat it. And it has the names of the deceased and the affected. It's basically a shrine; people leave things for their loved ones who have passed. It's a great sentiment. Oh, and the treaty. She signed a treaty with the people that she'd never force anyone to fight in a war. She's essentially risking the entire country for the lower class. It's amazing."

Mark's heart softens towards you. "She did all that?"

"Held back her coronation to finish it," Jaehyun confirms. "Then, each family of the deceased got compensated. You know, like her parents promised they would do, and then never did?"

Mark does remember, but he also remembers that being the year both monarchs died. They never had the chance to fulfill their promise. "Wait, so we both got compensation?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun said, dimples showing. "The bookkeeper has yours. I put most of mine into savings, since I don't mind the business I have right now. But I figured you'd want a new boat to take out and live on."

Mark eyes the water, and remembers how lonely he felt being the only one for miles. No one had been there for him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to agree to that again. "I'll put mine into savings, too. For now."

"You could take Y/n on a trip," Jaehyun suggests.

Mark shakes his head. "She wants me to take her sailing, but how do you charm a girl who has everything?"

"Give her the one thing she's never had," Jaehyun says, as if the answer is obvious. "Freedom."

-

Mark doesn't ask you to, but you bring a picnic basket with you the day the two of you go sailing.

You figure Mark probably only knows how to prepare a small number of things, and it might be nice to bring him something of a royal caliber to snack on. Besides, you have to bring something to thank him for taking you out with him.

Mark's boat is extremely small: just big enough for a crew of maybe six people, but small enough to be controlled by one man alone.

You watch Mark hoist the sails and set the boat towards the horizon, the wind doing most of the work.

The wind plays with Mark's hair, as well as his shirt, and you aren't sure which is nicer to look at. He's smiling towards the sun, the sharp rays casting somewhat of a halo around his face and you realize this is exactly where Mark belongs. He belongs with the wind and the sea.

Mark belongs where he can be free.

He anchors the boat once the two of you sail out far enough. You lay the picnic blanket out and extract the miscellaneous food items you thought Mark might like. 

He tastes the watermelon first, and nurses the fruit throughout the meal. "So, uh, Jaehyun told me about the memorial. And the compensation."

"Oh," you say. "Well, I thought they deserved to be remembered."

Mark nods. "Thanks. It meant a lot to visit it and find my family's names. I felt a lot of closure. As if they were finally at rest."

"Good," you take a sip of water. "That's good."

"You know," Mark pauses like he's about to say something troublesome, "your parents deserved to be remembered, too. They deserve to rest."

You glance up, and your head all of a sudden feels heavy on your neck. It's as if Mark said the words you so desperately needed to hear, whether you knew it or not. Heat pricks the backs of your eyes and you feel both a headache and tears coming up. "Thanks, Mark. I think so too."

"I thought we could do a small memorial service here. Just a little one. We can burn a candle and forgive your parents together. Then they can rest."

"Yeah," you sniffle, feeling an unbearable amount of gratitude in your heart for the boy sitting across from you. "Okay."

-

"We should go swimming," you say, just as Mark blows out the candle. 

"It's freezing out here," he says, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I'm going in," you say, backing up towards the edge of the boat.

Mark watches you jump off of his boat, then he hears a splash, and then a joyful shriek. He sighs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. He toes off his shoes and socks and stands at the edge of the boat. "How cold is it?" He calls down to you.

"It's super chilly," you yell back, teeth chattering as you smile in satisfaction. "But it feels good."

Mark takes your word for it and dives in head first. His bones chill immeasurably and he feels every muscle in his body wake up for what seems like the first time today. When he reaches the surface, the wind bites at his ears, and he begins chattering, too. "This is a terrible idea," he laughs.

"I know," you say gleefully. You swim over to him, and Mark catches that familiar glint in your eyes. It looks like you're truly happy, and he thinks in this moment that he'd freeze himself a thousand times over again if it kept that stupid smile on your face. "Also, how do we get back onto the boat?"

"There's a ladder on the other side," Mark says. "We're good."

"Okay," you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, and hook your ankles together at the front of his navel. "Carry me there?"

Mark dips at the sudden new weight, but it isn't unwelcome. He swims to the other side of the boat, a bit lazy because he really likes the way you're clinging onto him.

He lets you go up the ladder first, and he keeps his eyes on the ocean so he won't accidentally look up your skirt. As soon as you yell that you're clear, he begins to climb as well.

When the two of you return to the castle, you're placed in front of the fireplace in Mark's room by a very angry Ten. The two of you take whatever soup he made to warm your insides, and snicker at the obvious annoyance in the man's face.

"To be fair, it's only because he doesn't want us getting hurt," Mark supplies. He wraps the wool blanket tighter around his now-dry shoulders. The two of you are wearing new sets of clothes, having washed up in lukewarm water like Ten advised you to.

"I know," you giggle, scooting closer to him. "He's just so funny when he starts complaining." You shiver as you speak.

"C'mere," Mark mumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him, against the warmth of his body. "This is why I said we shouldn't go swimming."

"I'm fine," you say, shivering in his hold. "I'm getting warmer."

Mark runs his hand up and down your arms to try and create some kind of extra heat. Once you finally stop shivering, he checks on you, only to find that you've fallen asleep against his chest.

His heartbeat quickens — for absolutely no reason — as he gathers you in his arms and places you on the side of the bed closest to the fireplace. 

You let out a sigh of contentment and curl into the sheets. When Mark tucks you in, he swears he hears you mumble a quiet thanks.

He wonders if he should sleep in here or try to find another room to sleep in. Obviously he's slept beside you before, but he wonders if it's weird now because of how much he likes you. He wouldn't want you to think he's taking advantage.

But then Ten comes in and quite literally shoves him into the bed. "The two of you are getting a lot of sleep, because tomorrow I will have you both up drinking a very disgusting brew that prevents serious sickness. It'll be ready in the morning. So, get to sleep."

Mark obeys, too afraid to explain his predicament to Ten. It's a bit stupid anyway, he figures.

So he climbs into bed and falls asleep under the warm covers. 

-

Mark is untangling nets on the beach, toes buried in the sand. The wind has been picking up, causing his hair to annoyingly waft into his eyes every now and again.

He can hear the shrieks of laughter from Lucas' son as the boy runs up and down the dock. A moment passes where he pictures having a son of his own to teach at the docks. But maybe that isn't the life for him.

He's been spending his nights at the castle, staying up to talk to you. The majority of the time, you both fall asleep together, either intertwined or just in each other's presence.

Mark doesn't want to admit that he's falling for you, because that would mean he's falling for the queen. And while that doesn't sound too bad, Mark wonders how much of his freedom he'll have to give up. He wonders if he'd have to pay a price to be officially wed to you, when he likes the way things are now. He likes just being around you, as a friend, safe at a distance.

But he can't deny that there are times when he would love to kiss you and touch you in ways friends are not supposed to. He tries to keep these thoughts buried with the rest of them. In the things-that-will-never-happen pile.

He wonders if you like him too, and just as much. You certainly seem to enjoy every moment you're with him, but you're also just a generally joyful person, so Mark isn't sure he could differentiate the two if he tried.

He focuses on the net, hoping to keep you out of his mind for at least a day.

The universe has other plans. 

"Hey," you sit beside him. You wiggle your toes into the sand and grin at him. "Whatcha doing?"

"Working," Mark says, bumping his shoulder with yours. "I'm untangling nets."

Your face suddenly softens. "Are you going to get hurt again? Maybe you should wear gloves."

"I'm used to it," Mark says, shrugging off your worry. When he can sense that you aren't appeased, he swings his head to the side and gives you a long glance. "I'm serious."

You huff. "Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it has to keep happening."

In the end, you win. Mark begrudgingly puts on the pair of work gloves that you steal from Jaehyun. He has to admit that it feels a lot better, and he untangles the net a lot faster when he isn't trying to avoid getting any cuts. "Thanks, Y/n."

You grin. You follow him as he drags the net up to Jaehyun's boat and help him lay it out. Mark notices the bottom of your dress is soggy with whatever grossness dresses the dock. He also notices that you don't seem to mind, and you do your best to keep up with him as he works.

Eventually, the two of you get into a small rhythm of Mark briefly teaching you, and you picking up the trade rather easily. You help him pack bait, secure knots, and clean the deck of Jaehyun's ship.

By nightfall, the two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat. Mark is suddenly extremely thankful that you've given him a room in the castle, and he can take a proper bath tonight. 

Jaehyun and his brothers are going on a trip for a few weeks, so he won't have much to do on the docks as far as working goes. He wonders if he'll stay at the castle, or feel more comfortable by the sea.

-

Mark tucks the light brown cotton vest into his pants. It covers the white dress shirt he took out of the wardrobe, and matches the dark brown belt fastened around his waist. He slips his sock-clad feet into his worn leather boots. He sits on his bed and fastens the straps of the boots. 

It's raining, hard. There's no way anyone is going down to the docks today, and since Jaehyun isn't going to be there anyway, Mark refuses to brave the harsh rain. Instead, he makes his way to your bedroom door and knocks.

You call for him to enter. He walks in to see you hunched over your writing desk, reading some kind of letter. Your eyebrows are knitted together and your lips are pursed. An upset sigh escapes them. "It's from my aunt."

"What does she want?" Mark takes slow, hesitant steps towards the desk. "Is it bad?"

You rub your temples, looking more stressed than Mark has ever seen. "She wants me to have an heir. A daughter. Which is fine, but I don't need one now. I'm young and I'm unmarried. But she's talking about sending a few suitors over."

Mark's blood runs cold. "Oh? Um, did you agree to it?" 

"It wasn't a choice," you say, slamming the parchment down onto the desk. You reach up and grab fistfuls of your hair, resting your elbows on the wooden surface. "I just... I made so much progress, you know? And she assumes it's not enough. She assumes I'm nothing without an heir."

"What happens if you don't get married and have a daughter?" Mark asks, wincing more with every word.

You sigh. Your smile is extremely forced as you look at him. "Well, then she would have to take the throne, as apparently I wouldn't be fit enough to rule."

Mark can see the beginnings of tears in your eyes. "She can't do that, right? She can't keep you off the throne?"

"Technically, since she's the only female on my mom's side with a daughter of her own, she can." You begin to crumple up the letter. "She wouldn't be able to rule this country like I can. She won't have empathy for my people. She won't be gentle or kind. She won't throw parties for the lower class... Mark, what am I going to do?"

Mark wants to remind you that he is only a fisherman who has no idea how royalty works. However, all he can do is look into your eyes and realize that you're all alone. You're all alone and you're looking to him for help; for an anchor; for something to cling to so that you won't drown.

"Mark, please..." and immediately, he pulls you into his embrace. He tucks your head under his chin and holds you close, doing his best to still the violent shivers that run through your body. "I don't want to marry someone I don't love. I don't want to be forced into a union."

"Shh..." Mark runs his palms up and down your back. "We'll figure it out, right? You'll prove that you can rule without an heir, right?"

"I don't know," you sob into Mark's chest. "But I have to do it because she can't be on the throne. I won't do that to you. I can't. Not to my people—"

"Okay, okay, okay," Mark shushes you. "Alright. You do what you have to do. But tonight, let's just rest. Let's just pretend nothing is happening. Can we do that for tonight?"

You look at Mark and nod. You use the ends of your sleeve to wipe at your nose, leaving the skin red and raw. "Can you stay with me?"

Mark sits on your bed, and you crawl into his lap. He feels your forehead press against the side of his neck. Your hands clutch at his now-untucked shirt. You're still crying — he can feel a few stray tears slip beneath his collar — but you're quieter now. Your heart isn't racing as fast.

"Mark," you whisper, almost sleepily. "I love you."

Mark's breath hitches in his throat at your words. He finds that now he's the one with tears, pricking the back of his head like the painful reminder that this is all he'll ever be able to be to you. "I love you, too."

The rain continues to pour outside. Mark runs his fingers through your hair, and tells you quiet tales of the sea until you fall asleep, looking far too small and vulnerable in his arms.

He wonders just how much a queen has to sacrifice. He wonders if he would ever be able to steal the weight off of your shoulders. 

For a quick moment, Mark closes his eyes and imagines a world where it's just the two of you, and you mean it when you say you love him. It's not just fever-fueled words.

He kisses the top of you head. "So much."

-

The coffee is bitter on your tongue, but it's a lot sweeter than your aunt's arrival.

She comes in a carriage far too large for a single person. Her dress is too thick for Ora's climate, and yet she walks with her head held high, as if she can't feel the drops of sweat along her hairline.

Her hair is hidden beneath a large bonnet made of wire and something else. The atrociousness of it all just makes you want to laugh. Though the reality of the situation isn't funny in the least.

Mark is at the docks today, but you take comfort in knowing that he's on your side. Part of you wishes he would confess to you, and the two of you could get married. Wouldn't that be everything you've ever wanted?

Mark is, however, your dearest friend, and you doubt his affections towards you are romantic. He's never really been that affectionate anyway, save when the two of you are sleeping.

Sometimes you wonder how it would feel if he just decided to kiss you one day. If he decided that he loved you, truly. That he is in love with you, and the two of you can carry on in life together.

That's another thing you despise about this decision. What will happen to you and Mark if you wed another? Surely you'll have to stop sleeping in each other's beds. You'll have to spend more time with your husband. The thought breaks your heart. 

What a tender and vulnerable love you have for the fisherman at the docks. It's something no one could replace. 

And that's when you decide to lie to your aunt. You can't stand a life without Mark. Not now. So you pretend you don't have to. "Actually, I'm betrothed to someone. His name is Mark."

Your aunt purses her lips. Her entire face is puckered like she just ate something sour, and yet she somehow still looks beautiful. It irks you. "Is he of noble birth?"

"No," you say, straightening your shoulders. "but that isn't important, is it?"

Your aunt meets your daring gaze. She sighs. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Will you have an heir, though?"

"I do hope you aren't suggesting infidelity before marriage," you quip.

Your aunt balks. "Now you're just putting words into my mouth, Y/n—"

"Your Majesty," you correct, clasping your hands together. "and I do believe I am asking the appropriate questions. You wanted me to get betrothed, and I am."

There's a fire in your aunt's eyes. She blinks, settles for a calculated grin, and leans on her palm. "Of course. I only think it's peculiar that your people do not know of the engagement yet. Are the two of you waiting to announce it?"

"Well..." You clench your fists beneath the table, "I have been waiting for the right time..."

"I will host a ball." If you didn't know any better, you'd say your aunt is calling your bluff. And if you say no, she's got you right where she wants you.

You aren't letting her have any say in ruling your people. "Wonderful! I'll tell Mark right away!"

The look on your aunt's face is almost enough to make up for the bile that creeps up your throat.

-

When Mark comes into his room that night, hair still wet from his bath, you're pacing back and forth in front of his bed.

You're already in your nightgown, and your hair is braided with that familiar seashell pendant tied to the bottom. "I did something bad."

Mark watches the way you take your ring on and off of your finger. "I'm sure it's not that bad, right?"

You stop and face him. "We're getting married, Mark."

The air knocks out of his lungs, and he feels as if someone just punched him in the gut. He clears his throat; blinks. "Pardon?"

You laugh incredulously. "I just– she was getting under my skin, and I thought about how if I get married, we won't be the same, and I couldn't let that be a reality, so I just blurted it out thinking she'd drop it but now she wants to throw a ball and announce it to the people and I can't say no because she'll call my bluff—" you pause to take a deep breath. "Mark, I'm so sorry."

Mark thinks the worst part of this entire ordeal must be you thinking he wouldn't want to marry you. He wants to know when his life got so confusing. He manages a smile. "I guess I should learn how to dance, then, huh?"

"Yeah," you manage a giggle, the worry lines evening out in your forehead. "Yeah, but I can teach you."

"Good," Mark says, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He wonders if you'd be opposed to this being a real thing. He's too much of a coward to ask. "Good."

-

You've figured out why Mark tied the knots so many times that he received blisters, and why he's always the last one to leave the docks. He's a perfectionist, and he needs everything he does to be done without a single flaw.

This is what it feels like teaching him how to dance. The two of you repeat the same routine over and over again, sometimes seriously, and other times with laughter stopping you in the middle. But each time, Mark insists that he made a mistake. No matter how many times you assure him that he's perfect, he asks to try again.

In the end, it's nearly midnight when he feels somewhat satisfied. The two of you are just swaying back and forth, letting the rest of the record play on. "Are you always so diligent in your tasks?" you ask.

Mark laughs nervously, his shoulders tensing as he shrugs. "I don't like making mistakes."

"You make a lot of them to get where you are, though," you remind him. "You're determined, I'll give you that."

"You have to remember that I'm going to be dancing with the queen in front of everyone," Mark says, eyes searching yours. "They're going to be waiting for me to make a mistake."

"Maybe my aunt," you stick your tongue out in disgust, "but her opinion doesn't matter. As long as we get her out of here, everything can go back to normal."

Mark focuses on your intertwined fingers. He looks solemn, his doe eyes peering. "What exactly is normal? I mean, after we announce a marriage, we can't just take it back. The people will think you're impulsive. It'll ruin your reputation."

Part of you wishes you were back on the docks, the night of that party, meeting Mark for the first time. You still feel the same way; enamored with the innocence of him. An innocence you're ruining with your royal blood. "I don't know, Mark. But I got us in this mess, so I'll deal with the consequences. If you need to break it, I'll help you leave."

Mark dips down and presses his forehead against yours. "Would it be so crazy if we got married for real? Would it be much different than what we're doing now?"

You feel heat rush to your face. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears like the sound of a bongo drum. "I suppose married people do a bit more," you manage to joke.

Mark laughs; shakes his head, and with his face this close, his eyes look like little galaxies. "I mean it. I'm all in if you are."

You nod, liking the way your nose brushes against his. "I want to marry you, Mark."

-

The night comes and goes; a huge celebration not unlike the one you threw so many months ago.

When it's over, you feel relieved and happy. Your aunt is leaving in the morning, and you're going to marry your best friend. It's sort of a blessing in disguise.

You take off your sandals and get dressed in your pajamas. You step out onto your balcony and feel the wind hit your skin. You sigh. Nothing feels easy anymore, and every decision seems out of your hands. It's enough to make anyone mad, but you hope to hold on to the blessings you've been given.

Specifically, Mark.

You head into his room, hoping to sneak under his covers as usual. Instead of a ready-for-bed Mark, you're greeted with a shirtless Mark.

Time seems frozen as you realize he's just unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it upwards, so that his pants and cummerbund are still intact. He unties the thick sash, and when it falls, you can see the lean outline of his abdomen. 

You blink. "Um. Hi."

"Oh!" Mark covers his chest with his hands, which would be quite comical if it weren't for the already-thick tension in the air.

You grab a shirt off of his desk chair and walk over to him. "Here."

Mark's fingers brush against yours when he takes the shirt. Heat radiates off of his naked torso, and you wish he would just put on the stupid shirt already so you can stop thinking things you aren't supposed to think.

Maybe Mark knows what you're thinking. Maybe he's punishing you for getting him into this mess. Whatever the reason, his expression shifts. He takes on a devilish grin and hands the shirt back to you. "Actually, I'm going to keep it off. It's kind of hot in here, isn't it?"

Because he's half naked, you want to scream in frustration. Mark has always been extremely handsome, with his wavy black hair and brown doe eyes. And of course, you've always been curious about what he hides under his shirts, but right now you can't stop staring at him, and things aren't going as you planned at all.

"Should we–" you clear your throat. "Should we sleep?"

Mark hums. He leans his shoulder against the bedpost and looks you up and down, slowly enough for the tension to charge. "Alright," he says abruptly. "Goodnight."

You burrow under the covers and decide not to ever come out again.

-

The tension is extremely palpable. It feels like a coil, wrapped around the two of you. Neither of you know when, or even if, it's gonna snap.

Mark has tried to focus on his work at the docks, but then Jaehyun is congratulating him, and he's reminded of everything all over again. He wants to ask Jaehyun for help, but he knows he'll sound crazy if he asks how to win his betrothed's heart.

So he tries to do it himself. He attempts to read your expressions when he talks to you for any indication that you're falling in love with him. 

Because tension or not, he can't do this if your feelings aren't real. He can't put his heart on the line like that.

Right now, you're safe. Even if the two of you get married, it's still a friend thing. No lines have been crossed, and Mark is afraid that's going to change soon.

But what if it's for all of the wrong reasons?

He ends up sitting on his windowsill, eyeing the lighthouse beam as it shines over the calm sea. He unhinges the latch and opens the window, allowing the ocean air to fill his senses. It's been so long since he sailed away on his boat. Everything has changed.

Mark lets his head fall back against the wall. He closes his eyes tightly and emits a frustrated sigh. Maybe he should just tell you. Maybe it's time to put everything on the line, and if you get weirded out, he can just leave on his sailboat again. Right?

He chuckles to himself. Truthfully, when it comes down to it, he wouldn't change a thing about his predicament. He's thankful for your friendship and love, and he's content enough. After all, your happiness comes first.

You storm in, startling him out of his thoughts. "Someone destroyed the memorial," you say, eyes red from apparent tears.

"What?" Mark manages to stand up. "Who would do that? Why?"

"Noble rebels who don't want me marrying a man of lower class," you hiss, rubbing at your nose. "As if any of that matters when I'm in love with you."

Mark's heart stutters in his chest. Did he hear you correctly? "We— Uh— What do we do?"

"Ugh, nothing," you groan. "Not tonight. Tomorrow I'll address everyone and we'll begin looking for suspects. I'm just... I don't want anyone against us."

"Your aunt is against us," Mark points out.

"Screw her," you mutter. "I wish people saw you the way I did. They wouldn't doubt my decision for a second."

Mark stills when you close the distance with him and rest your palms against his chest. "W-What are you doing?"

"I mentioned that I'm in love with you and you haven't said anything. Does that mean you want to forget it?" A pout forms on your lips, and it takes everything within Mark not to just kiss it off right then and there. 

Instead, like an idiot, he stumbles over his words. "I... uh... well..." 

"What?" Your eyes are wide and beautiful, but Mark can see the hesitancy in them. 

He can see the vulnerability and nakedness. He can feel the coil in his stomach warm when he finally finds his voice. "I've been in love with you since the blisters."

"Ew," you giggle. But still, you drag Mark's face down to meet your own.  

He feels your lips on his before he can actually register what's happening. Once his brain catches up, he furrows his brows, determined to give you the best kiss you've ever had.

He cups your jaw and tilts your head just slightly, allowing him better access to your mouth. He feels your fingers trail down his chest and rest atop his hips. The coil in his stomach burns hot, and when you gasp against his mouth, it snaps.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and drags it out, ears ringing at the way you whine his name and clutch his hips more tightly than before. He chuckles and goes back to slower, sensual kisses, focusing on the way you feel and taste and sound. When you smile against his lips, he thinks he's found true freedom.

[fk12b]

Thrill Of It All

Boxer & Rockstar AU in the 80′s AU

Boxer!Bucky Barnes x Rockstar!Reader

@asadmarveltrashbag’s 3K Writing Challenge

A BLAST FROM THE BAST!: Thrill Of It All

Main Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes

Prompts:

“You knocked over my ceramic Hello Kitty piggy bank, bitch”

“Once again, I fell in love with you”

Warnings: So much kissing. Just pure fluff. Boxing??? Rock & Roll??? Old shoes and alcoholism???

Word Count: 6258 Words

A/N: First of all congratulations to my friend @asadmarveltrashbag you’re amazing, and she deserves all the love. Second, thanks for letting me participate in this amazing challenge. And of course, I hope you enjoy this little piece of my mind. Here you go <3000. I’m so sorry for posting this like, so very late.

Based on these songs -> Stacy - Fortune (1985, AOR/Hard Rock/Arena Rock from USA )  + Thrill Of It All - Fortune (I recommend you to listen to these two songs, which they are one of my favorites, while you read this, or simply take a moment to admire these gems. Headphones greatly recommended)

The roar of the crowd could be heard from miles away. They were ready for a good show.

One was King of the ring

The other was the Queen of the pentagram

But they couldn’t care less...

James “Bucky” Barnes needed a moment to relax his mind and clear his thoughts. He couldn’t let his feelings get in the way of this fight, or he would be bound to failure. Sitting on the bench of the changing room, he closed his eyes, letting his head rest in the lockers behind him, taking a deep breath to tranquilize his racing heart. After some seconds, Bucky placed his headphones over his head, pressing play on his walkman.

Always the same routine before a fight. Long deep breaths while he listened to her voice, that was one of the angels, becoming one with the guitar. How lucky he was for being blessed with her voice. Oh, no, she didn’t usually sing. Even though she moved graciously on stage, playing her bass as if it was another part of her body. She was not the lead singer of her group, no. She was the back voice with showgirl soul, brimful of elegance and grace. She was the soul of the rock group.

You stand alone

The look of a stranger in your eyes

Locking the door

Alone in the silence of the night

Pacing the floors, like a cat in the alley

You come and you go, oh such a tease

Barnes could spend hours just listening to her voice, as it made him feel warm, forgetting the rest of the world. The ending of the melody signaled it was the time for him to fight, and once the ballad of the goddess culminated, he stood up from his spot crestfallen, carefully, yet reluctantly putting away his Walkman inside of his bag. He stretched to warm the muscles of his legs, back, arms, cracking his neck, and finally, his knuckles. With newfound strength, he took his silk red robe, wrapping it around his form and putting on the hood, and headed out of the changing rooms, with thoughts of you clouding his mind.

One day I’ll reach down inside

Touch the fire that you hide

A kiss you won’t forget

Just for the thrill of it all

Meanwhile at the other side of the country...

The room you were assigned to in the huge venue’s backstage was almost quiet, with only the background noise the small TV was providing. Some sports channel your friend and lead guitarist of the band, Andy, had left on. You were currently sitting on a black couch, frowning with your elbows resting on your knees and hands laced resting under your nose, debating if you should wear black high heeled boots or just black boots.

The all so familiar opening of the boxing program made you deepen your frown, glaring at the two pairs of shoes on the coffee table in front of you. There was only half an hour left for you to get ready for the show, but all you could think of was your true love, and the argument you had yesterday.

It all started with a small thing. You had been stressed out thanks to the upcoming tour your band was starting today, sorting out last-minute details and making loads of phone calls and meetings with your bandmates, and agent, Tony Stark. Your boyfriend of five years, the world-champion boxer Bucky Barnes, was also tensed due to the nonstop fights he had.

During these past hectic five months, yesterday was the only day both of you had to be alone with each other. You couldn’t talk to each other much since every time Bucky tried to call you, it would go straight to voicemail, as you were twenty-four hours glued to it, talking to your manager or bandmates. And every time you tried to call Bucky to the hotel he was staying at, he would have already moved to the next location.

Bucky’s thoughts went to dangerous areas, thinking you were ignoring him, whereas all you could think of was the tour, as a result of your manager changing completely the detailed planned schedule you gave him, without consulting you, nor the band. You were furious, to say the least.

So, when Bucky finally arrived at your shared home, after five long months of not seeing each other, instead of being greeted with your usual smiley happy face and a tight hug, he was met with your angry self hurrying out of the house, grumbling you needed to go urgently to the studio, sparing him so much than small peck on the cheek.

Once you came back home from the meeting, you were tired and still angry as only half of the problem could be fixed. But Bucky was furious with everything, because his thoughts had clouded his mind, and it only took him to accidentally drop your favorite mug, scattering it into small chiliad pieces for you to snap at each other. The argument grew heated with every passing second until any of you couldn’t take it anymore, ending with Bucky rushing out of the house, knocking some things over after a harsh slam of the door.

When you woke up this morning, at an unholy hour to get ready for the tour, after not having slept a thing as a result of you spending the night crying, Bucky still wasn’t home and you felt hideous. Hence, between sobs, you got into the bus, leaving a letter for Bucky to read, if he ever returned home.

Now it’s up on your feet

Moving around from town to town

I know how it feels

Wearing a smile to hide a frown

When all of the while

I know what you’re thinking

You’re acting so shy

But it don’t mean a thing

The familiar tune, signaling the entrance of the first fighter interrupted your train of thoughts. It was your favorite song that your band had written. The one where the guitar solo, combined with the bass riff of the intro, sounded like a classical symphony, but still having the most heavy metal essence. Every time you played that song, the crowd always went wild with the first two notes and pumping their roar with each passing second. You always joked that it was the perfect song for boxing fight entrance.

And apparently, James Buchanan Barnes thought the same. You looked up to the TV and there he was, walking in all his glory to the ring, with confidence and a fire in his eyes, as if he was a fearful lion king. Your eyes followed his moves until the camera stopped at his face, clouded with determination. But all you could see were his beautiful blue eyes that shone with a newfound intensity. You almost forgot that he had a fight today, regretting not being there in the crowd to support him or watching the fight on the TV.

You were so lost in him and in your thoughts, you didn’t notice your friend JJ, the vocalist, dropping himself next to you on the couch to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He was the only one that noticed something was wrong since you set foot in the trailer, while the others were still busy doing last-minute phone calls. But JJ saw right through your happy facade, concern for your wellbeing in his eyes, and you broke down explaining what happened that night.

“Stop worrying, everything is going to be all right” JJ reassured you squeezing your shoulder and bringing you to his side. However, you stayed silent, felling how tears cascaded down your face, unable to stop them. “You know that James really loves you right?” You still didn’t respond, eyes trained on the TV, while you watched how he got inside the ring and walked to his corner. To be honest, you didn’t know if JJ’s words were right. As if sensing your discomfort, he gently shook your shoulders.

“Are you seriously questioning his love for you?” Andy gasped, sitting on your other side, pointing outraged to the TV “That man is forever devoted to you. I have never seen someone look at his significant other, the way Bucky looks at you. You are soulmates. I can see it in his eyes” You chuckled at his words, looking down at your thumbs twining them together, while he patted your leg with a reassuring smile.

Andy has always been spiritual and philosophical of the quartet, you weren’t going to deny his words, but maybe, any other day, you would have believed them fully.

“Ten minutes” The stage coordinator, Jerry, shouted from the door while Chanin, your drummer, waited in the doorway. Quickly, wiping the trail of tears away, you threw on the simple black boots that reached your midthigh, before having a tight group hug the four of you and running together to the side stage, simply closing the door to the room.

No one bothered to turn off the TV, left on the sports channel. Barnes versus Wilson, the fight of the century was on, and as the first notes of the very song Bucky used for his entrance echoed through the venue, accompanied by the roaring clamor of the crowd, the first punch was thrown with the first chord of the first verse.

Wilson started his offensive moves, but Barnes’ defensive was impenetrable, and as Wilson stopped to adjust his stance, Bucky used that opportunity to land one of his famous punches, a powerful right hook thrown with his complete right side of his body, just before the referee signaled the end of the first round, in time with the first song. As if both crowds were one, they roared to support their favorites.

The first half of the fight started quite balanced but as Bucky’s stance remained like iron, tiredness was taking a toll on Wilson’s movements, and halfway throw one of the rounds, Bucky Barnes’ fieriness snaped and started throwing punch after punch, leaving Wilson with no time to respond.

Once Bucky threw one of his famous right hooks, that could shatter any jaw because like many opponents said they felt like iron, the fight was over. Bucky Barnes was victorious, having added another big title to his list. After the two opponents hugged, the world champion belt was given to the blue-eyed man, who hurried out of the ring as soon as he had it in his hands.

The press was left dumbfounded, wondering where the champion had to go in such a hurry, as if he had somewhere else important to be than answering their questions. Of course, he had somewhere else important to be. Better yet, someone important to go to. The journalists seemed to multiply themselves in front of Bucky. The flashes of their cameras blinding him everywhere he looked, in his frantic search for a way out from the sea of press and fans. One of the journalists even dared to jump in front of him.

“Bucky, Bucky, Please. New York Times, Do you have some words for us?”

“I’m retiring. Now, I’m sorry, I have a girl to see” The boxer interrupted the man before he started to bombard him with more questions, while the crowd around them gasped and went wild with questions, with a gentle shove to his arm.

“But-” The young journalist tried to pry more words out of him.

“Please, move. I have a girl to see” Bucky said more sternly this time.

“You heard the champion!” Sam Wilson shouted from his left making both of them turn to him, interrupting the interviewer bugging Bucky “Now, move!” he gestured with his head before locking eyes with the champion throwing a knowing smile his way “What are you waiting for” He sternly said, raising an eyebrow to Bucky, who gave him a curt nod in thanks, shaking his head with a small smirk of his own.

The young reporter gulped in fear, not wanting to upset the prize-winning more, he jumped out of his way, snapping pictures at Bucky’s retiring form, prompting the rest of the press to do the same.

One day I’ll reach down inside

Touch the fire that you hide

A kiss you won’t forget

Just for the thrill of it all

And if it’s only one night

Tomorrow’s yours but the moment’s mine

I’ll shoot my super twist

Just for the thrill of it all

It was past midnight when Bucky got back home. He was tired and battered, new bruises adorning his face. Throwing his bag carelessly next to the door, after kicking it with his foot, he peeled off of his body the leather jacket clinging to him like a second skin with a lot of struggle. His tired self and mind only had thoughts about snuggling with you, but the clatter of a shard, when he took a step made his head snap to the floor. It was then when the memories of yesterday came back overflowing his brain.

How he walked away from you, how the pent up stress took a better of him. Bucky felt horrible, as he crouched down to retrieve the pieces of the mess he made, wishing he could have acted better on his actions. The drained man frowned, not recognizing whatever broken object he was holding, but he was adamant about buying a new one to replace it.

When he left the pieced object on the entrance table, it was then when he noticed the house quieter than usual and all the lights being off. Maybe you were asleep? It was late so it could be understandable, but on the back of his mind, he feared the worst. What if you had left him for good? He couldn’t bear losing you, for a stupid mistake, a stupid fight. You made him a better man, you were his rock. He would be lost without you. 

To collect his thoughts and racing heart, Bucky went to the kitchen to pick a water bottle, running his hands down his face, and letting out a long breath through his nose. As he reached the fridge, the calendar where you wrote down important events, caught his eye hanging on the wall.

On the day of today, there were to events appointed, his fight and your first concert, signaling the start of the tour. It was then he realized he had been a complete stupid asshole. Instead of being caring and understanding about the stress the tours generated you, always making sure everything was settled to the detail, he was the stupid selfish idiotic boyfriend. And what made him tears sting in his eyes was that he wasn’t next to you to support you.

There was also written the name of the town there, only just six hours away. Letting his head hit the wall, he then glanced around the kitchen seeing a folded piece of paper with his name written on it. At that moment, his heart skipped a beat fearing the worst. In a panic, Bucky rushed to pick it up and without opening it he ran to your shared bedroom.

Once he reached the top of the stairs, his heart and mind were at a mile per millisecond and his worst fears became true when he opened the door to your shared bedroom and you weren’t there. 

His mind wasn’t registering anything he was doing or happening, too preoccupied with finding you, as he rushed back to the calendar, for any more details. It was in the side block of notes where the name of the hotel was written. Quickly picking back his leather jacket and bike keys, not caring that his dead tired muscles were screaming at him to stop, he carefully placed the note inside his pocket and roared his baby to life, speeding out of the porch to get to you as fast as possible.

Bucky Barnes drove like a mad man, with only one thought in mind, and he for sure risked his life. But he didn’t care if he had lost you for good. He had to see you and apologize. Now, as he stopped in front of the hotel you were staying at, were a lot of fans had crowded around the entrance to take a peek at their idols, they went feral as all of them recognized him, not letting him stand up from his bike.

The security guards fending the hotel entrance came to his rescue, as they recognized him as your boyfriend, presuming he came to surprise you, pushing people away from him and escorting him, as they marched towards the main entrance, where they told him your room number. With a rushed thank you, he instantly ran up the stairs since waiting for the elevator would take too much time.

Just as Bucky walked throw the corridor leading to your room, he thought clearly. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you were mad at him? Tired and more anxious than he was ever before, it took him a while to compose his thoughts. What he was going to say, Sorry? It seemed too plain, for his mistakes. He didn’t even have flowers with him.

Once he reached your door, he hesitated on knocking, hoovering his fist over it. He was sure you didn’t want to see him but well, it’s worth a shot. With a ragged breath, he knocked on your door. 

You thought you had dreamed it, but you swore you heard a knock on your door. Taking a quick look at the digital clock with red bright numbers, you realized it was 6 AM. You were still tired as you still didn’t sleep well. It was always hard for you not to sleep near Bucky because he was warm and being in his arms always made you feel safe. Although, it didn’t help much the constant thoughts of the fight you had flooding your mind either. 

Since you didn’t have a concert today, you thought that maybe one of the guards needed something, or one of your friends wanted something, like go sightseeing, before the meet and greet with the fans. You rose from the warm, yet cold bed, placing a robe around you, and trying to tame your mane a bit before you opened the door.

You were surprised to see Bucky on the other side of it, looking down to the floor with a deep frown in his face. “Bucky” you softly whispered, his head snapping up to meet your eyes.

At that very moment, Bucky’s world stopped, again, as if it was the first time he saw you. Even having recently woken up, you were the most beautiful woman of the entire galaxy, and he surely will be blessed if you forgave him. Bucky’s mind halted as he took in your shiny beautiful Y/E/C eyes and merry smile. God, It felt like eons since he had seen that beautiful smile. Had he been this blind all this time?

Without thinking it twice, you crashed yourself forcefully to him, making him stumble a bit at the force, but never losing his balance, hugging him tightly to you. Bucky instantly pulled your much smaller form to him, circling your middle with his strong and sculpted arms. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you clung to him for dear life as if he was going to disappear at any second, being sure you were still dreaming. You were pressing yourselves into each other so hard, it was as if you were trying to make yourselves into a single entity.

“You came” you whispered closing your eyes, letting him cloud your senses as you felt Bucky move one hand, to cradle the back of your head into his big hand, without letting go of you while you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, doll” Bucky whispered back in your ear, kissing the side of your head, before cradling your face carefully between his big and battered hands, to rest his forehead in yours “I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but just know that I love you so much. You are my sun and stars. You make me a better person. I can’t lose you. I’d be so lost without you”

“Bucky” you spoke softly his name as you turned your head a bit, to caress his nose with yours, leaving your lips close to his “What are you talking about?” you wondered frowning, your breath ghosting his lips with each word. Had he not read your letter?

You felt his lips crash into yours in a searing, yet tender, kiss full of love. He poured out every emotion he felt towards you in that kiss. You instantly kissed back holding onto his jacket and pouring out every ounce of emotion into the kiss too. And if it wasn’t for Bucky’s thumb caressing your cheek, you would have thought you were dreaming of this kiss. Bucky’s lips brushed yours, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could steal your breath away, feeling the warmth of his skin, and the taste of something undescribable lingering far after. When the need for air felt unbearable, you parted to gasp for air while he rested his forehead on yours.

“Please, don’t leave me” he whispered softly, not wanting to break the magic that surrounded this intimate moment, nuzzling your nose with his, lips brushing together in a feathery touch.

“Bucky,” you said a bit louder this time “What are you talking about?” You pecked his lips, making him hiss a bit as you realized now that he had a split lip, and a bruise forming next to his left eye. Carefully, placing your palm next to it, Bucky leaned into it, after nuzzling it to kiss it “I’m not leaving you, how could I ever leave you? I love you so much.” Bucky couldn’t help but kiss you again, he wanted to get lost in that moment, and so he did until you pulled apart and took shaky, shallow breaths “You are my world, my soulmate” you whispered caressing his cheek looking into his glistening blue orbs, getting lost in them. “You didn’t read my letter did you?”

“I’m retiring” Bucky let out a tired sigh, that’s when you took in his tired form, the bags under his eyes and the still-forming bruises. “I love boxing, but I love you more, doll” He but let his weight slump on you, yet cradling you to his chest.

“James Buchanan Barnes! Did you drive here all night, right after the fight, six hours on your Bike?” you only but freaked out, holding his face to make him focus “Are you crazy! You-”

Bucky silenced you with another kiss, and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled, while his other hand got lost in your locks. You ran your fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you both and you could feel the beating of his heart against your chest, running one hand up to his chest.

Definitely, your senses had been seduced and you could no longer think straight. “Y/N” Bucky whispered slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. You smile, your heart fluttering at his voice as you clasped your hands at the back of his neck. Never before has your name ever felt so wonderful “I don’t care, I had to see you” He kissed your forehead as if saying sorry, a weight being lifted over his shoulders.

“You could have come here in the morning, If you had read my letter” you reassured him, untangling your form from his frame reluctantly, dragging your hands down his right arm, the one you knew was scarred and covered in tattoos. Bucky entwined your fingers with his tightly, as you dragged him inside your room, closing the door after him.

Looking down at his clock, he realized it was 6AM. Widening his eyes, at his idiocy he ran his free hand down his face, letting out a long sigh. “Please don’t leave me, I’m sorry for being an idiotic asshole” was all he could whisper as he let you drag him to your bed, making him sit there.

“I’m not going to leave you” You kissed his forehead and scruffy cheeks before you helped him take off his leather jacket and boots “How could I ever leave you?” you carefully peeled the t-shirt that had clung to him like a second skin. You knew he was sore after the fight, as you could see a lot of purple sports covering his skin. After he was only in his boxers, you both got under the covers, holding each other close.

“Because, I’ve been an asshole, baby. I thought you hated me” Bucky spoke tiredness taking over his body, now that he was comfortable and you in his arms. He felt how you kissed his eyelids, that he didn’t know had closed them, as a smile graced his beautiful face, one of your own mirroring his.

“I mean I thought you hated me because I yelled at you” you frowned letting your head fall close to his, laying almost on top of him.

“Uhm, no” he tiredly whined rolling to face you, entwining your legs together “Never, but the note...” he mumbled fighting very hard to stay awake

“We’ll talk in the morning,” you said kissing his lips once more, holding him close to you “Now go to sleep”

“but-”

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up” you both let the sleep embrace you, not letting go of each other.

It was a more reasonable hour when you woke up to a feather-like touch, caressing your cheek. You couldn’t help but beam, while you tried to hide, pressing your form closer to Bucky’s chest, that shook as he let out a happy chuckle.

“Good morning, beautiful” he let out in his morning raspy voice as he moved to kiss your cheek, playfully letting his body weight rest on you, making sure he didn’t crush you.

“Morning, handsome” you let out a jawn as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, and took him by surprise when you tackled him down to the bed, straddling his lap, as you both laughed non stop.

Bucky thought he was blessed by the angels themselves, admiring your ethereal form glowing in the morning sun, as he caressed your arms. After all this time, each time he looked at you, it was as if it was the first time he saw you. He would find new different glow of lights when the sun touched your skin, new different shades of your Y/H/L Y/H/C locks and the red of your lips. A new different twinkle in your bewitching Y/E/C headlights, when he looked into them and got lost. At that exact moment, that was all he ever wanted and needed.

“What are you thinking?” You wondered with a bright smile, caressing the purples in his chest, knowing that he didn’t hear a word you said.

“Nothing” the blue-eyed man focused on your caring and loving eyes “Once again I fell in love” he moved to a sitting position, holding you gently to him, cupping your face with one hand. Bucky leaned down and softly kissed the tender area at the base of your neck, before leaving a trail of warm pecks along the length of it and throat, to brush your lips together in a searing kiss, warmth radiating from the spot where his lips just touched, slowly spreading through the rest of you. “I’m retiring from Boxing” Bucky announced stopping your next words with a soft and warm peck “Before you say anything, I’ve been thinking about this, and us”

“But boxing is your life” you frowned hugging his neck as he denied adamantly.

“You couldn’t be more wrong” Bucky smiled softly at you “You are my life” he stated kissing your forehead and lingering his lips there “I spend a lot of miles away from you, for just a mere seconds of glory, when all the glory and all I need is right here in my arms”

Your eyes were glistening with happy tears at his words, holding him tight and close to you. You didn’t understand why he needed to give up his dream, just for you. “Bucky, I can’t as you to do such a thing, just to be with me. Boxing is your dream”

“You don’t understand” he spoke softly holding your hands close to his heart “You are my dream, and I don’t ask you. I’m doing this because I want to” He paused for a moment to look directly in your eyes “I want to be with you, forever. I don’t want you to be worried if I will ever come back to you because I took a blow badly. I don’t need all the glory, nor the money. All I need is you”

By now, small tears were running down your cheeks, were Bucky made them disappear with his thumbs. He held your chin delicately between his fingers tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “If that’s what you want, I’m very happy” you nodded kissing him “I just don’t want you to regret a thing”

You watched how Bucky held a finger with a mischievous smile, moving to retrieve something from his pants on the chair next to the bed. He was hiding something between his palms, a big smile not leaving his lips.

“I was planning on something else but this, right here, is the right moment” He moved one hand to reveal a small velvet box, and carefully opening it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. You looked at him not believing your eyes, placing a hand over your agape mouth. “A promise to love you forever, I’ll be your friend and my love for you will never end. I will stand beside you, all the way and through the years, as life goes on and on.” He took a deep breath “Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my lovely wife?”

You could only nod, as by the time he popped the question happy tears were cascading down your face. Taking a deep breath, you croacked a yes as you crashed your lips into his. He had tears of his own as he chuckled when you pulled apart to put the ring on your tembrling hands. You both couldn’t belive it, but now you were engaged, you both feeling as happy as ever. You squealed when Bucky tackled you down to the bed hovering over you, and kissing you in a passionate kiss.

“Uhm, Bucky, Y/N/N?” You heard Chanin hesitan voice as he knocked on your door “I’m sorry for being a party pooper, but we really need to get ready for the meet and greet”

“Oh boy” you gasped having forgotten everything about today, being on cloud nine, that definitely your fiancé have nothing to do with, trying to push him off of you to get ready, to no avail.

“How did you know I was here?” Bucky asked not having any plans to move, until you playfully patted his cheek, and reluctanlty moving off of you.

“We saw your bike when I went to order the breakfast!” Andy happily squealed.

“We heard everything, by the way” JJ squealed too “Congratulations to the newlyengaged” They all cheered together.

“Are you presentable enough, so we can open the door to hug you both?” Chanin wondered.

Between chuckles, you quickly got ready so your friends and bandmates could hug you and congratulate you.

One day I’ll reach down inside

Touch the fire that you hide

A kiss you won’t forget

Just for the thrill of it all

And if it’s only one night

Tomorrow’s yours but the moment’s mine

I’ll shoot my super twist

Just for the thrill of it all

You were halfway through the tour, with Bucky by your side. It was unspoken rule that now that he was here, he had to join for the rest of the tour, and since you were engaged and you wanted to spend the most time together, no one hesitated on making room for one more troubled soul.

One of your bodyguards had injured himself while he chased a fan, that wanted to intrude in the backstage, so everyone thought that Bucky was fit for the job, now that he was retired from boxing. Your other bodyguard, Steve Rogers, didn’t complain either, as he loved having his friend Bucky around. For once, everything was perfect.

Halfway through the concert, after the song ended, usually where you talked with the crowd, you joined JJ this time, picking the microphone in front of you.

“How’s everyone?” JJ cheered making the whole stage go wild in a second “Wow! Are you hyped too, like we are? Holy shit!” You chuckled while everyone cheered again “I see you have decided to joing the small JJ-Talk, Y/N/N” he smirked at you placing his arm around your shoulders.

“Yes, it was about damn time, you know!” you happily spoke making the crowded stadium go wilder, if possible “And besides I have a present for you all!”

“Wohow!” JJ did a happy crazy dance, as the people chanted your name “Are you going to do what we ALL think you are going to do!” He looked at you spectantly, along with the quiet audience.

You took a deep breath, creating misterious aura, a smile permanently on your face, suddenly becoming nervous, as you didn’t rehearse what you were about to do “Yes” at that word the croud went savage with glee. “I have a song for all the people that are in love, or need a love song, or just simply, y’know, want to enjoy some music, and I don’t even know what I’m even saying” The crowd and bandmates laughed with you.

After thanking, Scott, the stage coordinator, who placed a tabouret and a microphone in the middle of the stage for your little performance, handed you your red Fender Stratocaster with a happy fanboy smile. Taking a look at the side stage for support, were Bucky was standing enjoying the show, next to Steve, you beamed when Bucky couldn’t help but throw a wink at you, along with a kiss.

“Man, you are so whiped” Steve leaned close to whisper to his friend “Wilson was very right”

“Oh, shut up, punk” Bucky slapped his head focusing back on you.

“So, this song is for someone very special” You cleared your throat as the crow awed “You know, is the cheesy moment-”

“Really? We didn’t notice!” Andy joked making everyone in the venue laugh.

“Don’t listening to him! He’s jealous because the song is not about him” you joked back, Chanin fuelling the joke with a Ba-dum-tss “So, I was saying, this a very special moment-”

“And cheesy” JJ repeated joining the teasing.

“SO, of course my song needs a beautiful” you raised your index finger to stop Andy “and cheesy title” by now the spectators were full on joining your antics clapping and whoping when needed “This song is called you still broke my hello kitty piggy bank, bitch”

Everyone laughed and cheered as the illumination dimed until there was only a spot light, pointed at you.

When Bucky heard the tittle, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, as he had finally discovered what was the figurine he broke. And for the first time, Bucky was going to hear you magical voice live.

As you strung the strings on your electric guitar, the rest of the world disappeared. He let you magical chant envelop him, there was no crapy cassette on a battered Walkman, around his ears to disturb your magnetism. But no cassette was crapy when it held your voice. It was never possible.

You were singing directly to him. This song was about you both, and even though, you were sharing it with the rest of the world it was entirely yours. You were pouring out your heart, voice becoming one with the guitar, that completed you to perfection. And he understood what that letter he found and held it close to his heart, meant. It was a love letter. It was the love letter turned melody. It was your ballad, your love song.

Just for the thrill of it all

And as the roar of the crowd could be heard from miles away, the King of the ring, run to kiss his Queen of the pentagram, as everyone cheered like there was no tomorrow...

Just for the thrill of it all

...But they couldn’t care less, as they held each other close as their hearts roared and cheered at each other, like there was no tomorrow.

Let me know what you thought about it, feedback is very welcomed. And I’m very sorry for posting this so very late.

[flutteringphalanges]

                            Stifling the Howling Wolves

Summary: “Quid Pro Quo, Agatha. Consider it a friendly gesture of sorts. You give me what I want and I’ll return the favor.” The Count offered her a toothy grin and even though she was safe behind the prison wall, the nun still felt a shiver run down her spine. “And what would that be?” She inquired, maintaining her calm, collected state. “I’d love to learn more about you,” he answered simply. “In exchange for your blood, I will tell you everything. Just a small amount. The offer stands.” She thought hard. Harder than she’d ever had. They were losing time. Mina’s life was in mortal danger. She had to make the decision now. “Okay,” she agreed. “You have a deal.”

Ship: Dracula/Agatha

Rating: M (may eventually be change to Explicit) 

“Silence of the Lambs!Dragatha”

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N:  Firstly, I want to say welcome! I'm so stoked to be taking on an idea like this! This is dedicated to @mitsukatsu because it's one of her favorite movies and she's been here since day one of planning this. Also almost all characters used in this story are from the show! I really love incorporating all of them in. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated -Jen 

                                                 Chapter One

                                                Budapest, Hungary

Agent Philip Sokolov wasn't at all bothered by the icy air as he stepped out of the black vehicle and onto the stone walkway. After all, he'd served in the British Royal Navy and knew the cold like the back of his hand. Adjusting the file folder in his grasp, the man's eyes fixed forward, taking in the sight of the large, stone abbey that lay before him. St. Mary's Convent of Budapest, Hungary. A decent sized monastery tucked away from society and the thrills of modern day life. Yet despite this, it hadn't taken him long to locate what he was looking for. Or rather, who.

"Do you really think she'll be able to help? She's a nun after all."

For a Mobile Surveillance Officer, Olgaren tended to stick out like a sore thumb. He was tall, towering nearly fifteen centimeters above the other man and quite burly. And on one or more occasions, his "mouth of a sailor" had gotten him in trouble. Despite this, he had been a reliable and loyal partner, probably one of the only people Sokolov entrusted his life with. But his skepticism on the agent's judgement that day wasn't exactly the most welcoming. Especially since he could very well be putting his job on the line.

"She's our last resort," Sokolov explained as they walked up the long pathway towards the main gate. "If there's the slightest chance she can get something out of him, I'm willing to take it." The two men stopped at the entrance, the former captain now holding the officer's gaze. "Agatha Van Helsing is our only hope."

Olgaren's lips pressed into a firm line, but he offered Sokolov a nod. Further questioning would have to wait. In front of them on the opposite side of the gate, a woman was approaching. Her face was round, framed by a white habit that fell against her dusty blue robes. Sokolov smiled as genuinely as one could as the head nun stopped in her tracks.

"I see you made it here safely," she commented, her eyes looking both men up and down. "The roads can be treacherous."

"We managed just fine," he agreed. "I believe we talked on the phone a few days ago? You're Mother Superior if I'm not mistaken?" Sokolov began to fish in his pants' pocket with his free hand retrieving his wallet. "These are my credentials. I'm from the United Kingdom's Security Service, MI5. Thank you for being so cooperative with us."

"I didn't think I had much of a choice," Mother Superior replied, unlatching the gate. "I must admit I am still confused as to your reasoning for coming here. Besides, of course, wishing to call upon one of my nuns." She took a step back, allowing them passage. "You must understand my concern seeing as our convent has no association with England."

"I apologize for the lack of disclosure. Believe me, if I could, I would answer your questions. But this is a matter of national security. My orders were to talk to Sister Agatha, and to Sister Agatha alone." He gave the woman a sympathetic look to which she merely frowned in response. "Does she know we're coming?"

"She's expecting you, yes." Mother Superior spoke, motioning for them to follow her. "I'll take you to her quarters. I believe she's in there now."

Sokolov had begun to notice multiple pairs of eyes watching him as he made his way down the cloister. Nuns had begun to appear, standing their distance as they whispered to one another. It made him feel strangely uneasy. It wasn't like they were going to do anything. If he had been in their situation, he'd stare too. Doing his best to stay focused, he met the head nun's surprising fast pace until they stood in front of a door.

"She's in there," Mother Superior nodded. "I suppose I'll leave you to your visit then."

The woman turned on her heels and walked away leaving both Sokolove and Olgaren to their own bidding. The taller man glanced over his shoulder before looking back at his partner with a shrug. Sokolov found himself absentmindedly readjusting the folder in his grasp before he raised a fist and gently wrapped on the door.

"Come in."

The door let out a soft creak as the man pushed it open. The room was small, simple with a bed, book shelf, and a desk squeezed into a corner. To Sokolov, it seemed to be a rather boring set up. Then again, this wasn't a lifestyle he'd have chosen.

"You look surprised."

Sokolov's attention turned to a woman, much younger than Mother Superior, sitting at the table. She seemed rather relaxed all things considered, her blue eyes bright, lips curved into a smile. When she stood up, the nun was the first to extend her hand in greeting. Sokolov took it and for a moment was a little taken aback with how strong her grip was.

"If I may apologize for being blunt, but might I ask why you are here?" Agatha smiled looking at either men. "I'm assuming I haven't broken the law. If I had, I think it'd be Hungarian authorities after me, not some men from England."

"No ma'am, you haven't done anything wrong," Agent Sokolov explained quickly. "My name is Agent Sokolov and this my partner-"

"Yes, yes, I know who you are. Mother Superior did inform me that you'd be visiting." The nun said with the wave of her hand. "But I'd like to know what brings you to here." She motioned around her as if to emphasize her point. "You've come a long way."

"Sister Agatha…"

"Please," the woman smiled. "Just Agatha will suffice. No need for such formalities."

"Agatha," the agent corrected. "I suppose there isn't a best way to jump into this discussion, so I'll get right to it. You are the distant relative of Abraham Van Helsing? The vampire hunter?"

"Something tells me you aren't asking me because you want to write a book." The woman replied after a long moment, studying both men's expressions. "Yes, Abraham was my great, great, grandfather. I am very well versed in his history."

"So you know about vampires?" The man ventured.

"Well yes." Agatha chuckled, looking rather amused as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. "But many people do, don't they? While I did grow up being told the legend of my grandfather, one can simply google about the creatures."

"What about Count Dracula?"

The smile faded away from Agatha's face, her expression changing to one of uncertainty. "What about Count Dracula?" As if suddenly concerned by the appearance of her bookshelf, she began to rearrange her books. "He was just a story. Just as all of the other ones were. He never existed."

"But you don't really believe that to be the case, do you?" Sokolov watched as Agatha seemed to hesitate, one hand resting on the wooden case. "Agatha, we're here to tell you that Count Dracula is in fact alive and is being detained in England. Has been for many years now."

She was silent for a moment. "That's not possible." Agatha turned, facing the agents once more. "Count Dracula was said to have died on The Demeter. His body was never recovered, but there was no evidence that he had survived."

"Dracula is a very intelligent and highly skilled man-if you even want to call him that," Olgaren frowned. "He was finally caught in England three years ago when one of his victims managed to escape. Jonathan Harker. When we were able to locate and imprison him at a highly secure facility, we believed that to be the end of things. We paid the Harker family a lump sum of money to remain quiet about what Dracula was and that was that. No need to get the public up in arms. Life had resumed to normal."

"Until very recently," Sokolov finished. "When new cases began to show up. Strange murders that, in a sense, mirrored Dracula's. But at the same time they were different. More...ritualistic. Agatha," he exhaled, looking directly into her eyes. "We believe we are dealing with another vampire. A serial killer at that."

He held out the case file towards Agatha. She eyed it for a moment almost hesitant before accepting it. Sokolov watched as she flipped through its contents, her brow furrowing as she studied the papers from within. After a while she looked up, closing the folder as she did so.

"So why is the MI5 coming to me?" The woman questioned, not offering the file back to Sokolov. "I'm not my grandfather."

"Dracula refuses to talk to anyone," the agent responded, looking from Olgaren and back to the nun. "We're hoping that maybe he'll speak to you. Because of who you are. We need to catch the killer before things get really out of hand and we think that Dracula knows more than he's telling us. That information in the folder alone is what we have on Dracula. If you agree to come with us, we can share with you everything that we can. You'll have our entire archive at your disposal." He inhaled, his tone almost pleading. "England needs you, Agatha. Won't you help?"

                                                         XXX

Agatha could count on how many times she'd ridden in a plane on one hand. Her most recent, being many years ago, when she left Holland to join St. Mary's in Hungary. As the plane took off, she relaxed in her seat and gazed out the window as the ground was replaced by the cloud covered sky. It felt surreal leaving the convent. Saying goodbye to her sisters she'd known for so long. But it felt even more bizarre finally having the confirmation that Count Dracula, her family's one true enemy, was alive. Something she had begun to give up hope in learning that was true.

"I want to thank you again for coming."

Sokolov's smile was warm as he took the seat beside her. She straightened up, turning her body to face him. Methodically, he pushed another folder over the tray table towards her. On the opposite side of the plane, Olgaren was fast asleep, snoring rather loudly. Doing her best to block the noise out, she took the file and opened it.

Agatha would be lying if she didn't admit that her stomach immediately twisted at the picture that lay before her. A woman, skin so pale it was almost translucent, was stretched across a long, metal table. Against her own better judgement, she flipped to the next picture. This time she was looking at the neck. At the flawless skin defiled by a set of sharp, fang like marks that dug deep within the flesh. Again she turned to the next image, feeling the bile begin to rise into the back of her throat. Right in the middle of the chest was a large hole as if something big had been shoved into it, penetrating past the rib cage and into the heart itself.

"Kathleen Piper." Sokolov explained as the nun took a moment to collect herself, closing the folder. "She was his second victim, found floating in the Thames. Completely drained of her blood. Based on the particles we found within her chest cavity, the object is always made of wood."

"A stake," Agatha said quietly. "He stakes them."

"We believe so, yes," Sokolov agreed. "Almost as if he is trying to keep them from turning. We don't understand his motive behind that. There's a lot we don't understand which is why we need you." He folded his onto the table. "We've dubbed him the Midnight Slayer. It lacks creativity, but he does only seem to kill at night. All of his victims so far have been young women."

"And that's the reason you've been led to believe he has to be a man?" The woman questioned, a slight frown forming on her lips.

"No," the agent sighed. "It's because the only detail Dracula ever offered up was that we were looking for a man. That's how we know the Count has more information on the case. Which is why we need you. Because maybe he'll open up more to you more than he has to anyone else." He exhaled, running a hand through his graying hair. "Because you're a Van Helsing."

She stared out the window for a bit, watching as the white clouds floated by. Just hours ago, she was just a nun. Living a quiet life, left to her own devices. But now she was being pulled into a horror of a mess. Chaos that involved Count Dracula himself. A monster she had believed to be dead after years and years of researching. And though she wished she could just turn around. Pretend that this never happened. Her curiosity, ambition, and aggravating need to do what's right overweighed that.

"I'll help however I can." She responded, finally returning her attention to Sokolov. "But don't expect any miracles."

The man chuckled at her words. "An odd statement coming from a nun. Aren't you supposed to believe in that sort of thing?"

"I'm not your average sister." Agatha with a small smile, watching as the plane began to descend towards the airstrip below. "Far from it."

"Well, I should hope as much," he agreed. "We certainly do need that." Sokolov sighed, leaning back in his chair momentarily allowing his eyes to close. "We certainly do."

[inthispagewestanikon]

Special Scenario - MINO “Fiancé” part 2

I’m back with part 2, it took long enough lol but I hope you enjoy <33

Word count: 2.202

Mino’s POV

After I left the building and stared as she went her way I felt as if the world had stopped completely, maybe I haven’t even fully processed what had happened inside that elevator; it’s like I’ve waited for this moment for so long and now that it happened I don’t even know what to do with myself.

I saw a taxi pull over and a lady came out so I rushed to get to it before it took off. As I sat down in the car and the driver asked me where we were going I kind of stuttered before the adress to my studio just rolled out of my mouth. 

The ride wasn’t long and it wasn’t expensive. I got off and entered the building where my studio was located, I greeted the doorman and entered yet another  elevator, as soon as I did the memories rushed back and it hit me...I had kissed my ex who I’ve been in love since my school days and in a few days she is going to be someone else’s wife. I laughed out of dispair, I remember this one night specifically which we were at a park and we were laying on the bench and we told each other that we’d get married for sure when I made enough money as a rapper...at least one part of it came true. 

I got off the elevator and walked to my door, typed the passcode and finally was in my safe haven, I could now be myself and just let every and any feeling pour out. I saw a pen and doodled over a paper going through the scene one more type and the word 'fiancé’ kind of come out in the paper and I added ‘my’ in front of it and chuckled at how childish that look so I said the words out loud and a depressed feel came along, it was funny and sad.

I started working on the beats I was producing for my new album but for the past 2 hours I have been doing that all of them sounded like trash to me. I stretched my arms and the paper came into my field of vision, the words “my fiancé” written down and a melody hit me. 

I stood up and went over to the piano playing some lines trying to give life to what was in my head, when I got the base down I went back to the computer and started adjusting and adding more things. I came across this old folk song and it was like it tied everything together, so I sampled it and worked it into the base from the piano. 

After a few hours I had the whole melody down and I loved it, now it was time to figure out with the lyrics. As I was getting ready to go into that I got a call, Zico’s name popped up in the screen and I picked up.

“Oh, yes Hyung..What’s up?” I said.

“Mino-ya, what are you doing?” He asked.

“At the studio” I replied and he laughed.

“Yah, go out and get some air, you’re there everyday” I laughed at his advice.

“Look who’s saying that” I laughed more “Ah, that was funny...yes hyung I’ll do that” 

“You better!” He warned in a joking tone “I’m hanging up now, bye”

“Bye hyung, take care” I said. 

Even though I’d love to do exactly what he told me to I just couldn’t stop now, I was in the zone and don’t want to get out of it and I’m sure he is the one who’d 100% understand that so I went back to my lyrics.

On the same doddled paper I started by writing random words, the process of creating lyrics was harder than the beats because it hss to rhyme, it has to go well with the melody and it need to make sense whilst the beat is more of a feeling. 

Two hours went by and all I had were doddles and the same two words. The sky was dark and I knew I had been in there for too long. Maybe it was time for fresh air and some food, I realized I hadn’t eaten since I left the restaurant earlier. 

I left the studio room and made my way to the elevator while stretching my back, after hours sitting it sure was aching. I pressed the button and the doors opened, I entered and was about to go on my phone, just when I unlocked the scene hit me and the sentence “stop playing around and just be with me” came into my mind and the doors were about to close so I frantically pressed the button to open the door and ran back to my studio. 

I sat down and picked up the pen writing down that sentence and from then on the rest just rolled out. My handwriting looked like shit because my thoughts were moving faster than my hands could move but in like 15 minutes I had the lyrics down.

“Knock knock I miss you But I can’t have you (So, sad) Drip drip I pour out my tears But you still hide your fine figure (You’re so mean) You’re friendly to others, but chic towards me Where’s all the stars in Seoul Oh, in your eyes When you’re with him you’re in Dystopia If you follow me it’s Utopia [Hook] Pretty woman Wo wo you’re so elegant I look at you from all angles, and you’re still so pretty I’ve just realized, my woman Woman, my blue bird  Hide well my lady (My lady) I can see your hair, where are you Where are you? I can’t find you, come out (Come out, come out wherever you are) I’ll go wherever you are, I’ll go [Verse 2] Shh don’t stay a word, let’s just run away Stop playing around and just be with me During the summer I just want to walk in your eyes We’re both risqué, risky risky oh I miss your body, and I’m lonely Help feed this thirsty dog Don’t be embarrassed like a coiled up cobra, alright? [Hook] Pretty woman Wo wo you’re so elegant I look at you from all angles, and you’re still so pretty I’ve just realized, my woman Woman, my blue bird  Hide well my lady (My lady) I can see your hair, where are you Where are you? I can’t find you, come out (Come out, come out wherever you are) I’ll go wherever you are, I’ll go [Verse 3] You’re a pie in the sky Woo, I swallow my spit  You’re my main, I’m your chewing gum Woo, let’s boogie on & on We’re on fire, I can finally breathe, I’m all for you Beautiful you’re pretty, pretty

Come out come out wherever you are  I’ll, go  Come out come out wherever you are I’ll go wherever you are I’ll go

Now all that’s left is recording the lyrics and add it on top of the beat. 

I started recording it but it wasn’t sounding right. I took several breaks and walked in circles around the room trying to figure out the tone, nothing. I listented to the beat again and again, but still it wasn’t right.  Honestly, this wasn’t  just a song, I was sending a message, it was my answer to this fucking marriage and I wanted her to get it as soon as she listened to it.

I sat there in deep thought fow a while and I started mumbling the words until I finally got how the chorus would sound, so I started from there and the excitment from that part being just right led me to recording the rest of the song. 

I was almost 7AM when the demo was complete. I hadn’t had any sleep, but the song was ready and I wanted to get it to YG as soon as I could. I didn’t care I looked like shit, I just got inside a taxi and head over to YG building. 

I went up to the producers room and told them I had something good for the next realease. So I played the demo on my phone and by the look on their faces, I did great.

“Mino ya, this is a single, really” one of the producers said.

“Yah let’s take it to president Yang” The other one added.

“wah, I’m so glad you liked it, I worked on it all night” I smiled.

“Yeah, we can see” We all laughed.

They then called in his office to schedule a meeting and while that was being taken care of by the secretaries we all went to the cafeteria to eat something and a meal was indeed much need because I was running on coffee since yesterday.

“Yah mino, you need to watch your health” one of them said as we were eating.

“yes you need to listen to your hyungs” the other added.

“yes yes” I said while bowing in apology.

We finished the meal and were hanging out at their studio room when the president called us up to his office. 

Once we got there the receptionist said we could enter the room as he was already waiting for us.

“Oh, Mino! How you’ve been?” YG greeted me.

“Hello! I am good” I bowed.

“Glad to hear! So, I’ve heard from these guys that you have something good for me, let’s hear it” He said and I immediately pulled out my phone and played the song.

The room was quiet for about 30 seconds before YG gave that smile he has when he likes something and I could finally breathe again. 

“This is good material, Mino, really” He said “That’s a single” He complemented and I smiled a bit flustered with the compliment.

“Thank you, Presindent” I bowed. 

“Of course, few adjustments here and there and it’ll top the charts for sure” YG remarked “Actually, let’s release a full album” After he said that my soul left my body and came back, a full album? Is he serious? Has he gone insane?

“P-President, is this a joke?” I asked innocently.

“Of course not” He laughed “You’re surprised, right? Well, you’re one of our greatest artists, you always bring good material both solo and for WINNER, so I want to give you the chance. Do you think you can do it?” He finished and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Of course I can! Thank you so much, Presidente, for this opportunity I promise I’ll do good” I bowed and was sincerely moved by the trust he was putting in me. I have waited for this chance for a long time and knowing the President of the company trusts me enough to realeae a full album is amazing. 

We left the room after chatting for some more about group activities and producing for others artists and I was on cloud 9. 

(...)

The next two months went by so quickly, I was in meeting after meeting, recording after recording, everything to get this album to perfection. There was going to be 12 songs that I, myself, composed and produced.The work I put into this was immense I couldn’t wait to put it out there for my fans to listen and for her. I also filmed a music video and the preparation was exhausting, but this meant more than just awards and charts, I kept thinking that if I couldn’t relay this message to her with words I’d do it through art, which is the one thing that might have kept me from sinking low after the news that the one and only woman I’ve ever loved will soon carry another guy’s last name.

(...)

The wedding was a month away now and the single realese date was due to two weeks before the cerimony. I peeked at the date engraved on that envelope “10/12/2018″  I still couldn’t wrap my head around it and even if I buried myself in work that kiss was what started it all. The questions in my head kept me up at night and she was all I could think about. “Is this how this it’s going to end? Is this a “the one that got away situation”? What if she still loves me and is waiting for me to say something? If so, what can I say?” It was like this all day everyday and I got absolutely no answer whatsoever.

(...)

26/11/2018 came and the music video was released, I was pumped but the whole time I keep thinking about what she was thinking and then an idea came to my mind. I grabbed my phone and copied the link to the video and searched through my contacts until I found who I was looking for, hers.

I sent the link along with no context, if I did all this so my art could speak for me then there were no words that I could say to her and after all the years we’ve known each other, I know she’ll get it, she always gets it because she, like no one else, gets me.

Sooo, it took me long enough so I made up for it with a long part and I didn’t want to say anything but there is room for a part 3 idk you guys let me know...

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing <33 I promise not to take 2 years to update this lol,

Ana.

[haus-of-wu]

Bonamana (미인아) 10th Anniversary Album Analysis/Rediscovery

Happy 10th Anniversary to Bonamana / 4jib !

I viscerally remember this album coming out when I was in the 8th grade and using my damn iTunes gift cards to buy the album tracks for my iPod nano. (WTF was streaming in 2010)

Bonamana was the first album of many in SJ’s discography that didn’t have the full lineup of members. Hangeng had departed SM, Kibum had announced a hiatus to focus on acting, and Kangin was starting off what would become SJ’s almost decade-long military rotation era.

We’ve come a long way, and we’re still out here !!

Track analysis and re-reaction below the cut - as a veteran ELF I find that middle school me fixated on certain songs (and was the biggest Ryeowook stan), and then completely forgot about entire other songs, so it’s always a fun time going back down memory lane.

Bonamana (미인아)

Even if you look and look, look and look, look and look There’s no one else but me.

It’s true, true that my feelings don’t have a place to go. You know that I adjusted myself to fit you

honestly the best iteration of the “SJ Funky” sound that started with “Sorry Sorry” imo

an absolute headbanger !! if you aren’t already bobbing your head to the bass line and percussion in the first 10 seconds you are not human

this has just the right tasteful amount of autotune that makes it age a lot better than sorry sorry over the years

i’m sorry but the choreo absolutely fucks especially with kyuhyun going out there being like “you thought i was a main vocal? i’m in this fucking dance break”

re:choreo, it’s understandable that they’ve pivoted to the rock remix of this for super shows bc there’s a squat move they do that is not friendly on the knees at all

if you wanted a club BOP about a guy trying his hardest to figure out how to get a girl’s attention, this is it

donghae doing a magic trick for every music show performance of this, while looking fiercely in character while delivering his line as a man who is hella stressed about what to get the girl as a present

the way ryeowook and sungmin (tenor line !!) exchange lines

this song made me go feral in 2010

No Other

Hearing you tell me that you love me, I have everything in this world, You & I, You’re so fine, Is there someone like you? I love you Oh, please know it, to me there’s only you, That I stupidly see you As my everything 

that feel-good cute love song that served as the foil to Bonamana

the softest MV !!

just super chill and smile inducing

all the music show performances of this are just...so cute (also featured so many shenanigans like leeteuk yelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEENIM/GOOD LUCK SHINEE, and random members playing rock paper scissors in the middle of the performance)

probably has the most evenly split line distributions for the time (each member has their own verse of sorts)

contains one of my favorite hyukjae rap parts - it flows in such a relaxing way

Shake It Up (Remix Version)

Hey get up, (Hey get up) everyone come here (everyone come here) Just shake (all your thoughts) Just shake it up!

your everyday repetitive life, right now shake it up your repeated thoughts of sadness- right now shake it up Are you separated from the world? It all depends on you

SJ said shake it up !

chill club song with the touch of autotune, heavy synth, and weird background “oh OHs” of the time

the predecessor to the electronic chill vibe that Skydive has

they really told us to have fun and enjoy

honestly the song i didn’t realize i’d need in quarantine as i jam out at my desk

All My Heart

The words I still can’t say The words that got stuck in my throat I love you more than anyone else It’s still you and me, me me me me me me me me

In this moment I’m really happy I’m really grateful that you came to me The one who gives everything to me It’s only you and me, me me me me me me just you

a simple guitar instrumental with soothing vocals, a wholesome r&b

composed by LEETEUK AND HENRY? fuck me up fam

as a kid this was just the “nanana nanana na” song (that’s the me me me part of the chorus lmao)

this is the happy song that you’d like wave your lighters to maybe

hyukjae’s been singing “don’t wake me up” for eons

god this song makes me so soft

A Short Journey

My heart that loved you My eyes that looked at you Are still here

Oh baby say goodbye, for a short while goodbye I’ll go back to the place when I once was When I open that door and take one step So that I can stand in front of you who I missed

My heart that loved you My eyes that looked at you Will wait

Kangin going to the military tribute song composed by Donghae and lyrics by Hyukjae? they really had all the rights in 2010

god the lyrics really hit me in my ELF heart. like we really went through a whole decade of military service and said goodbye for now so many times

the opening piano intro? i hate you donghae i really do

hyukjae these lyrics man. why. why you gotta make our hearts hurt like this

another simple instrumental with soothing vocals, but this time it hits you in the feels a bit

if you weren’t listening to the lyrics, this feels like a song you’d watch your parents slow dance to in the house

thanks for triggering the “i miss kangin” hours G O D

Boom Boom

From head to toe you are wrapped with all luxury things Hoo~ so eye-blinding, who would ever dare to touch you?

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I’m trying to get a hot girl, I’m drawn to her bad look look look am I wrong?

It’s nothing but such a beautiful sin

THE OTHER BANGER IN THIS ALBUM

yeah i feel like 13/14 y.o. me only was here for bonamana and boom boom back in 2010 which is like...pretty valid given the taste of your typical middle schooler in 2010

but literally. if you thought bonamana was about a guy desperate to get the girl, boom boom was legit like “shit she’s hot like sin and hooking up with her might be a mistake for me but oh well wtf why the hell not”

kyuhyun’s line at the beginning “from head to toe/머리부터 발 끝까지” is apparently used in a lot of lyrics, to the point where D&E were like, Bout You’s Korean title is gonna be that, AND it’s gonna be in the chorus. this was totally off-topic.

the whiplash in this album honestly. soft love songs to trying to get girls in the club to i’ll wait for you to finish military service. they have the RANGE

Coagulation

On the window and on my eyes Dew forms, tears form, a small stream is made Where they’re from and how they form over and over even I don’t know The only thing I know is that I just really hurt My formerly burning heart is slowly becoming cold It seems even I don’t know what to say, or how to hold on to you

time for a KRY ballad (can you BELIEVE they are finally having their first whole-ass album in june ??)

break up crying song included with the album of two absolute bangers

just close your eyes and get taken away on the sad rainy day ballad

Your Eyes

I want to erase all of my insufficient former self It seems like someone like me has nothing to give to you

Do you still remember, do you believe that it’s only you for me Do you know how long you can keep me by your side In this large world, there’s only one person (I only want you) Did you know this about me

sad piano r&b time !! brought to you by yesung and kyuhyun only

harmonies

kyuhyun’s bridge though

easily a candidate for some drama OST

i feel like this album really just had two sides - party rock central and r&b feels

My Only Girl

Even if I cover my ears I can hear it, even if I close my eyes, I can see it Even if I shut my mouth I keep calling out for you I am stupid I hate how I can’t get over you

we really opened this song with “cause i’m lonely” huh (screams at how applicable this still is for them TEN years later)

i love everything about this song except the chorus

the chorus is very underwhelming

My All Is In You

Even though I’m pretending to smile Without knowing why In truth I want to cry

It seems love is ending like this Before I know it our parting is approaching You say “goodbye” To me, letting you go is still difficult Please give me a little more time I can’t live without you My all is in you

another sad breakup bop why are you guys so good at this genre

the percussion comes in so nicely

little strings in the background that help accentuate the words (chef’s kiss)

KRY really were already yelling not even halfway into this song - perf

we literally are only in the second chorus folks

this song is great, it’s only sin was that it said “rap line you just don’t get lines”, so rip heechul, hyukjae, and shindong

Shake it Up!

the original - way less electro, more acoustic

has a very lo-fi beginning and then it amps up

has some interesting high pitched synth piano twiddling up there

a tad slower than the remix, but not by much if at all

dude the horns coming in behind hyukjae’s rap !! it fucks !

if the remix version’s vibe is people having fun in the club, this one’s vibe is a summer bbq party in the backyard

god i really love the horn line - it gives it such a nice vibe

another point in the “feel good” bucket

In My Dream

She’s walking away Embracing another person My chest’s like it’s being crushed under a heavy weight

I’m dreaming again, right? Cold sweat runs down my body It hurts to dream about things, I hate to remember

I wish I would fall asleep forever like this I wake up with her presence still… although I hope I don’t dream again, Like today, it seems I fall asleep with her presence

piano and string sadness here we go

bring back SJ KRY + donghae + sungmin

this chorus for this song stabs me in the heart every time

i’m mad where’s the MV for the heart-wrenching sad ballad

kings of emotional power vocals

we really are out here singing our hearts out about that ex-girlfriend that haunts us as we try to fall asleep

if they ever perform this all ELF in the vicinity would immediately die

One Fine Spring Day

A warm wind is blowing like it was that night The flowers you lovingly planted have bloomed Before I know it spring has come again I still want to deeply sleep like it’s winter

You are so very far, so very far To be honest I miss you every day Even the very small, very small trivial things make me think of you every day

still laughing the ryeowook brought up bonamana as his favorite album on weekly idol bc it contained his first ever solo track ;kasjf;aksdf king of promoting only himself

this is v soft, v much aligned with the little prince image that wasn’t even in the works yet

the imagery of the lyrics man. cute winter to spring yearning uwus

s o f t e s t

like this is literally the song that inspired every fanfic writer that’s ever written ryeowook as persephone in some greek god au

Good Person

When you laugh I feel good too, even when you say it’s just pretend You bring happiness to the days when I wait for you, the nights when I miss you Even when I’m alone it’s okay if I can just see you I’m always behind you, I’m always looking out for you, but it seems like I have to share

The difference between me and the person who makes you cry is that all I can do is comfort you

this song sounds like something that would be in the opening of an animated show that takes place in a high school

now that i’m looking at the lyrics, this is literally an upbeat sounding song accepting that they’ve been friendzoned and all they can do is support her relationship with the other guy

bittersweet nostalgia bop i guess

Here We Go

cue family/action movie credit music vibes

i don’t have much to say about it - i just isn’t something i’d listen to on the regular

it’s just happy-go-lucky finale type music

it has a really old-school hyukjae/shindong rap verse lmao

vocal line is out here yelling, very on-brand

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

Tempting the Crowns

Wasn't sure if I was gonna release this but then I got tagged in this, by @komala-scientist and like now I have to. Been desperately wanting to explore Karen in like the sexy times mode cause never have despite having her character for years. I want to explore both her adjusting to letting herself be there cause if all her trauma, but also desperately want to showcase how she is trained to use people and by proxy has used lust to do this. (unaware she's using her emotion reading from ho-oh link but yeah) The latter I haven't really found a good excuse for Karen to use in main verse cause she's trying to be a better person, but Twist would have no shame in doing it. Hell she would use sex to gain control often I imagine or fake having had it with someone if needed if it gave her control. Tho also....what if she did fall for someone? So was in talks with @tokiwagym awhile ago on something like that happening, and by proxy would also take their Giovanni to unexplored territory and yeah this scene has been living in my head rent free.

So here ya go hooligans sexy Karen....sort of.

(under cut cause long)

Too close.

Karen's mind pipped in making her freeze in place. The hesitancy didn't go unnoticed as the person she was with stopped as well. The mood between them shattered in an instant at they sat in the resulting dead air of silence.

"I think we've kept each other up long enough."

She announced pulling one hand away from his shoulders, realesing the hem of the pants she originally tugged him by, and slid of his lap. The emotions from him flicking from shock, disappointment, confusion, and everything in between as her feet landed quietly back on the red carpet. She couldn't blame him for it, they had gotten rather close. All of their fake intimacy having leaked into what was supposed to be private chats for logistical reasons. Ah these private chats, where they didn't have to put on the silly show of her fawning over him to lull the scattered followers back under his control. Yet they'd found themselves talking business, to playfully fighting all too easily. Sharing the bed tonight would be out of the question, she'd have to take the pull out.

"Did I do something wrong."

"No we both did. I suppose it was inevitable though with all of our teasing."

"Both of us? What do you mean? You were doing fine till, well if you're not comfortable-"

"That's one way to put it."

"Then let's fix it. We don't have to stop if it's fixable."

"It is, but neither of us are ready to fix it yet."

Suddenly her wrist was grabbed. Ah, surprising that hadn't happened sooner in their relationship, but she'd been strict about anything of the sort. Even now her gaze drifted from adjusting her clothing to swiveling back, slowly, with a cold stare showing she had no intention to speak until he let go. They stayed that way for a moment, but as his eyes wavered in a rare moment where he submitted to hers letting the pale wrist slip from his hands. Her demeanor relaxed once again, but the exasperation hadn't left his.

"Karen please, none of you cryptic shit, what was wrong."

He asked directly. The emotions were fascinating to read from him in that sentence. His demeanor was trying to be authoritative, much like the boss act he did so often, but the slips of genuine confusion and concern were making their way through the cracks she'd been working on exposing. Such substantial cracks these days too, if only he'd fully trust her. No it was to early for that....it was cute though...how he was still convinced he could hide hurt from her. Huh, maybe he did care some if he was letting her hurt him as she had apparently done.

Giving a slight smile, of shared disappointment Karen remained having eye contact with him for a second. Sighing she turned making dipping steps towards the door extenuating her own laments on cutting their time short. However she did answer him as he so politely asked.

"Our deal is so simple. Out there I'll be good, pretend to another loyal sap to you, hang on your arm like a trophy, and make sure this whole organization gives you the respect you had."

She reminded finally stopping at the door, back against it as she turned to him.

"But in private. We are equals Giovanni. I've struggled enough trying to make sure you understand that. You're cute when you're mad, but I don't like playing this game of who side am I on when I've told you countless times I'm on yours. Giving myself here? Well that'd be fulfilling our lusts, but how often have you done that with someone? I'd give you too much power."

Karen hummed sorrowful while her facial expressions stayed lightly smiling. A simple shrug with it, and her hand was on the door knob. That act had the other to his feet walking towards her in a hurry. His hand reached for the knob staying close to her before drawing it back. Ah, good, he was learning. Attempts to control her would only prove her point, and though the frustration of fighting his need for control was apparent in his body language Karen stayed put giving him the notice he needed to process.

"It won't be like that. What do you want to top? Is that the issue or something?"

He huffed clearly not wanting to be so blunt, but not in the mood to delay.

"No Giovanni. I want you to tell me you love me, and for it to be true."

She answered bracing for the wave of panic from him. Her eyes drifting from the knob up his now twitching hand, and finally his face. He didn't need to say his thoughts, she could practically hear them even without psychic powers. There was the basic ones of defense,'How silly, and juvenile to ask of him. How could she tell it meant anything at all? This was a pointless thing to ask." Only a bit deeper though sat his honest thoughts. The fear behind such a request, and the desperate beating of his heart that begged for that to never be on the table. However Karen wasn't going to waiver.

Her hand reached out slowly as if to avoid spooking some timid animal. Till gently her slender fingers wrapped around his tie. Her eyes focused on her movements running her hands up to re straighten it for him.

"Say that, mean it, and I'll say it back when I can because then I'll feel safe to do so. After that....then we can indulge since we'll both be trapped in each other's snare...equally."

She commented letting her hands linger by his neck a moment able to feel the increased heart rate through the shirt. Her eyes met his brown ones again, they were much softer when he was exposed like this. It was entertaining to her.Meanwhile her hands began to travel back down unashamed as the back of her fingers felt down his shirt.

"Till then, we both have imaginations to keep ourselves occupied. Though you seem to have something more personal to handle, and since sharing a bed, as we've done, feels cruel I'll take the pull out."

Karen addressed glancing down to send him a brief signal that his pants were doing a poor job at being discreet.

"No."

He snapped taking the door knob before she could return her hand to it.

".....take the bed you...you want proof I see you an equal, fine then. Just leave a spare set of clothes outside the door."

The meaning was kind, but the tone was one of an order. Karen didn't mind terribly recognizing it as his trying to regain a level of lost control after being embarrassed, and while still processing her request. Stepping to the side as he threw the bedroom door open to the living space she made her way towards his drawers where his nightwear was kept. Her own disappointment still clung to her some, but her mind was still taking in the emotions he had been trying to keep hidden while talking to her. As she came back she didn't have the clothing as asked having left that in the bathroom instead. Unsurprisingly she found him somewhat struggling with the cushions still flustered from the conversation.

"Hey, I left them in the bathroom. A shower maybe good for you. I'll get the bed set up, and make sure the pokemon are ready for bed too. You're giving me the bed, so let me make it equal by helping you."

She offered wanting to still validate his gesture. There was a hesitation, and a heavy sigh on his end before he turned to face her holding one of the cushion in front of himself. Heh, she noticed the blush.

"Fine....thank you."

He mumbled walking past her briskly.

"Welcome Gio."

[battletowered-archived]

Commemoration.

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “Main” verse. 

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

     One year.

     It’s hard for him to believe. Leon still fully expects that one of these times when his phone buzzes that his face is going to flash up on screen. That he’s going to get a call and hear him asking to want to meet up and battle or grab some lunch together. He knows it’s impossible. He knows that’s never a call he’s going to get. He could delete the contact. Give himself some kind of finality but… there’s a photo that he’d taken himself attached to that contact. Smiling wide and bright-- a genuine one and not just one for the camera. One of the ones that had too much teeth because he was laughing as Leon tried to get his phone back.

     His phone has never been so quiet as it has in the past year. It’s been a hard adjustment.

      He’d visited this morning. Left two huge bouquets of mixed flowers because there was too much slate grey. Boring, Raihan would have called it, and Raihan deserved something as vibrant as he is… was. The headstone is modest, situated between two cypress trees. It was hard to believe they were already getting so big. Leon had spared no expense on his flowers-- sweetpea, rainflowers, carnations, tulips, canterbury bells and most importantly snapdragons, because he knew that the ones named after his favorite type would have made him smile the most.

     He’d gone early because Leon doesn’t think he can bring himself to face Raihan’s family. He knows they don’t blame him. They must have told him a thousand times the day of the funeral, though he can’t say he really remembers all that much from that day. Those two weeks following Eternatus’ capture were encapsulated in an ugly grey smear in his memory.

     He remembers searing pain in his ribs. Feeling hollow-- like something had dug a hole through his stomach. He remembers feeling like he was going to collapse a lot. He remembers the way that his head pounded to the beat of a deafeningly cheering crowd the day he lost his title.

      But he barely remembered his own best friend’s funeral. What a joke. How fitting that the self-absorbed champion would have been more concerned with himself and his title during the time he should have been saying goodbye. He’d heard a million reasons why it wasn’t his fault-- as if he didn’t already know that. That there was nothing Leon would have been able to do to stop Raihan from trying to protect Hammerlocke because it was his home. It’s still his home.

     It feels like one failure among hundreds. Sometimes he still wonders, though, if maybe he could have. If he had just said something different. Would anything have changed if Leon hadn’t stubbornly insisted that he would be fine, but Raihan’s duty was to protect the people of Hammerlocke because they needed him.

     They still need him. But he wasn’t here anymore.

     That was why Leon was here, actually. At least that’s why he’d lingered after visiting the grave.

     He’d assumed that the city would hold sour memories for him. Sure, it did, but not nearly so severely as Leon had expected they’d be. There was something almost inspiring about it, actually, because Hammerlocke had come together and healed the physical scars left by Eternatus. They had held on and healed, and it gave Leon the hope that he would be able to do the same. His mother had always told him that he was named after Dandelions for a reason. There was nothing more stubborn than a weed, the little plants that would keep existing in spite of everything in the world working against them. Perhaps if Leon could do that-- just keep existing against everything going against him-- then maybe he’d be able to shake that feeling that something was missing.

     It would work. He’d made it work before. It had to work. He had no other option. The world wasn’t going to stop and wait on him to piece himself back together. The world didn’t end just because Leon felt like it was.

     Still, Leon can see the city is in mourning. Or he might be projecting his own, soured mood. Either way people have been giving him space, and the streets have been so quiet. He appreciates it, honestly. It’s hard to put on a strong face, even on a good day. He won’t let himself cry in public, though he knows his face is red and swollen from doing just that earlier this morning. His eyes and head hurt, but his tears seemed to have dried up for now.

     That’s a good thing anyway. He doesn’t want people to worry about him. He’ll be fine.

     There’s a huff of breath, and Leon suddenly is reminded that he’d let Charizard out of her ball to help him along. She ceases his forward motion with a gentle, broad wing. He’s so glad she’s good at not getting turned around. She knows the right direction-- something Leon can’t manage when he’s not spacing out and irritated. Leon looks up, relieved to see the battlements of the castle already repaired, though just the sight gives him a woozy feeling.

     He hears rather than sees it coming as he looks up toward the top of the battlements, the sharp, melodic sound of wings splitting through air just a fraction of a second before he’s slammed into bodily. He teeters, barely managing to keep his footing as he struggles with the momentum, laughing breathlessly.

     “Flygon!” There’s the panicked call of Sebastian as he winds his way down the staircases of the castle as fast as his legs will take him. Camilla and Aria follow in tow, though pause to wave at Leon as Sebastian rushes to come help pry the excited Pokemon off of Leon. Leon’s still laughing, though. He can’t help it with the way the large dragon type is nuzzling against him and demanding he pet along it’s head.

-_-_-_-

     For a while it’s hard to bring himself to be sad-- he’s buried in Pokemon who want his attention. Raihan’s team were always excited to see him, even if he’d just visited them less than a month ago. He likes to come check on them, mostly because he knows how hard it can be for any Pokemon to adjust to sudden change but especially so dragon types. It goes unsaid, of course, that there were other reasons he liked to see them. It always pleased him to see them happy and relaxed.

     For a while Leon had been chatting with the Gym Trainers about nothing at all really-- at least it was nothing at all to him anymore. Mostly about the league-- trying to figure out what to do with the Gym and the adjustments and whether the gym would be capable of returning to the major league or if it should be stepped back while they searched for a new leader.

     It’s not hard to tell they miss him. No one has said it, but Leon is perceptive, so they don’t have to. They skirt around outright saying what they know is true-- that he’s gone and that it’s been hard to make the adjustment to move on because they’d lost such a force of personality. He knows because he’d seen them mirror his shock and fear and sorrow a year ago. He’d seen them mourning, too.

     Now that they’d run out of safe topics to talk about, they’ve lapsed into silence. They just share their spaces on the pitch while they watch the Pokemon mill about. Sandaconda has curled up in Leon’s lap to sleep and Goodra has become a fixture at his side. She’s soaking his coat through with her goo, but Leon doesn’t mind it because she’s coddling him in a way that’s frighteningly similar to the way people do to baby pokemon.

     “You should take them with you.”

     It was like it all shattered in an instant. Just with those words. Leon’s head jerks upwards in Aria’s direction, blinking slowly as if the statement had confused him. As the realization sinks in, his eyes widen the way a wild pokemon’s might. Aria merely adjusts her glasses on her nose and averts her gaze.

     “...You mean Raihan’s pokemon?” Leon lingers on each word. He wants to clarify it even if it’s perfectly obvious what she’s referring to.

     “Yes”

     “Are they.... Really being that rowdy here?” Leon ventures, meaning for it to sound like a joke. As if to punctuate his discomfort, a nervous laugh slips through his mouth. Sandaconda stirs in his lap because he’s halted his stroking over the Pokemon’s scales.

    “That’s not what I… what we mean.” Aria sighs, sounding resigned already. She seems to consider her words carefully before she continues. “We’ve… The Gym Leaders and I have been speaking about it. We’re not trying to just pawn them off on you but… they really do seem to be their happiest when you’re here Cham-- Leon.”

     Leon would like to keep staring at the grass on the stadium field, but he finds his gaze being drawn up to where Flygon and Charizard are play-fighting with one another. Then to where Duraludon and Gigalith have taken advantage of the warm weather to nap in a patch of sunlight. To where Torkoal and Turtonator are quietly crunching on some snacks just outside of Leon’s direct reach. He can’t say that they look particularly happier than they do any other time he’s seen then, but he supposes he wouldn’t know because he’s only ever seen them in his own presence.

     Still… It feels wrong in a way. Those are Raihan’s pokemon. His rival’s pokemon. His stomach twists at the realization that it’s not like he can ask Raihan because he’s not here to say. The idea hurts.

    “I shouldn’t.” Leon’s voice is so thin that he doesn’t even recognize it as his own. His throat is tight around this lump that’s forming, and he can feel the pressure at the bridge of his nose that happens right before he’s going to cry. He can’t-- not here.

    “Why not?” Camilla answers this time. Her tone isn’t condescending or judgemental or goading, just an honest question. Leon doesn’t answer, and so she continues. “You’ve had plenty of experience raising dragon types. They know you well. Just… look at them? Goodra has been sitting with you since you got here and Flygon nearly bowled you over because he was so excited to see you this morning.”

     Tight. His throat is so tight it hurts, and ever so slightly Leon’s begun to tremble with the effort to keep his emotions wrapped up within his body.

     “It’s not that I don’t think I can. I love them… I’d love to raise them but…” Leon hesitated, not sure what words to use. Speaking about his feelings had never been his strong suit. What is he even trying to say?

      That bringing them in means finally having to accept that he’s gone? That there is no more Rival’s team because there was no more Rival. That it feels wrong to take his Pokemon because some deep part of him thinks that he’d never be able to be as good to them as Raihan was because he adored them. That he’d spent years and years watching Raihan with them to know they loved him just as much. 

     He knows what it means. It means realizing that the Pokemon that he’d watched Raihan raise-- some even from eggs-- had lost so much a year ago too. They’d lost their guide. They’d lost their best friend just like Leon had. Leon could take them but he didn’t think he’d ever fill those shoes the way that Raihan did.

     “I don’t think I’m ready yet. If… I take them in, I want to make sure I can give them the life they deserve.” It’s raw. Entirely too raw the way the words come out, and it feels like something is digging thorns into his chest as he manages to force them out. He leaves ‘the life Raihan would have wanted for them’ out because he knows it doesn’t need to be said. Somehow Leon would have guessed that if anyone could relate to his feelings, it would have been the gym trainers.

     They’d been kind enough to give him space the first time he’d come to see Raihan’s team. When he’d cried helplessly and clung to Flygon and Duraludon for an hour while the tar has wormed its way out of his system and the realization sunk in that he was actually gone and that it wasn’t just a bad dream caused by the pain medicine from the hospital. He was sure they knew.

     “I’m… planning on moving. I would want to move first, to make sure they have the space they need to run and play. I don’t have that luxury right now in Wyndon. They need exercise. I want to make sure I can take care of them properly and do right by them.”

     “But… you’d consider it?”

     “Mmm.” Leon hums because he can’t talk anymore without the dam breaking. Leon nods, though, so they know he will, indeed, consider it. There’s more than what he’s said too. So much more. He wants to feel stable. He wants to know that he’s not going to look at Raihan’s team and feel the urge to cry as much as he does now, because he misses him. He wants to make sure they don’t come into a home only to be stressed by Leon’s own baggage. Sandaconda presses it’s snout into the warmth of his hand, and it’s enough to shake loose the somber laugh that’s caught in his throat. “I don’t think I could ever actually add them to my team. I’m pretty sure Raihan would come back and haunt me for stealing his weather strategy.”

     They lapse back into silence for a long moment. The quiet is deafening even around the sound of Goodra cooing and the soft crunch of Pokemon eating. Even around the groans of Charizard and the song-like beating of Flygon’s wings and the two wrestle around each other. Leon sighs, and leans back a little more against Goodra.

    “Thank you.” Leon’s gaze darted up again toward the others. Aria mumbled it, but the other two nodded their agreement. “It’s been… hard on them being separated among the three of us and… We really do think it’s what he would have wanted for them.”

     It’s those words that do it. Leon could swear he feels his frayed emotions snap as he raises a frantic hand to try and stem the flow of tears which are already coming. Goodra, finally picking up on his trembling now that he’s leaned against her more, fusses with him, tucking his body under her neck and letting out a bubbling coo.

     Leon’s heart wrenches in his chest and he feels sick at the stressed flipping of his stomach. He hiccups to try and breath around the rock that’s sitting in his throat but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to will the tears away this time so he’s left to feebly wipe at them with the sleeves of his coat. He’s a cup that’s been overfilled, and now that the tension has given out his emotions are leaking out.

     “I know.” It’s all that Leon can manage before his throat tightens too much for him to speak.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Persephone| John Wick x Reader (Five)

Words: 2988

Warning: Usual JW-verse violence, swearing

Previously: After the encounter of Marion’s people, you and John step back and think of what comes next while you wait for the Bowery Boys to look for more allies. John realizes how protective he has become of you and how he won’t mind it if he still saw you even after all of this is over. To stop the Instructor from getting in your way of the mission, John sets out to confront him head on without you.

-

“What do you guys want from her?” John demanded, facing Caius, a fairly tall and lean man with slicked back dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes that stood out with his dark gray suit.

Caius sighed, widening his stance and shoving his hands in his pockets. “My sister wanted little Persephone to lead the operation. She knew that through her missions, Persephone had gain contacts with other organizations and she wanted to use that to her advantage. This is the downfall of never getting the job done yourself, though, isn’t it? Our sweet Persephone should have slaughtered what was left of Ophelia’s people when she had the chance,” he said, shaking his head in a chiding manner.

“Don’t call her that.”

“Or what, Jardani? You’re going to… ,” Caius pointed to himself with an incredulous expression, “shoot me? Original.”

“What do you want?” John repeated, taking a step towards Caius.

Caius held out a warning finger and pointed at him, a red dot appearing on John’s chest. “Careful, Jardani. You’re going to leave our sweet Persephone alone just like that?”

John’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he remained in place, held down by that single red dot. When Caius was satisfied that John wouldn’t try anything, he continued to walk forward himself, standing a few feet away from John.

“You’re quite protective of someone who was trained to kill you,” Caius mocked, a wide smirk on his face as John’s eyes narrowed, “why else would she be so valuable? Well, maybe I should of held that information, but to hell with it. Even if I do get a hold on her again, she’ll still refuse to kill you. How unfortunate. My sister should have covered her tracks better.”

“You want to make a deal,” John surmised, his wrist beginning to itch, to have him draw the blade out. No, that needs to be saved for later. 

Caius clapped, the noise echoing off the bare brick walls. A black car pulls into the building, two men in black suits climbing out with a briefcase and a folded piece of paper. They stood next to Caius with a neutral expression, awaiting further instructions.

“You need more people, I need people removed,” Caius said, as if it’s the simplest task.

“Who?”

Caius chuckled. “Persephone has people of her own, whether she remembers or not. Get rid of them. If you do, I’ll lend my men to help you. I have a list of people confirmed to be on her side. Start with them and find the others.” He handed John the folded paper. “After my sister was murdered by yourself, I took to… reinforcing and adjusting orders that she had sent to her people. They have gained enough authority and manpower to help you.”

John took it slowly but didn’t open it. “What happens to her?” he asked cautiously.

Caius shrugged, holding the briefcase. “When all of her memories comes back, who knows what will happen. Do we have a deal?”

John stared down at the hand Caius offered then looked back up at the man. His features were similar to his sister’s albeit more rougher with a scar on his temple, his brown hair groomed with an undercut, a tattoo peeking out of his collar.

Killing your people would be betraying you. Even though you don’t remember all of them, there were still people by your side. Whether the others had stopped having ties with you after your disappearance from the Underworld five years ago, John didn’t want to risk it. There was no way of verifying if Caius’s people possessed such authority or manpower in the mobs they were in. But what if your people didn’t have those? What then?

No, he couldn’t. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and a heaviness in his chest for even considering it. Whether he liked it or not, you were in this together with him. At least, so far, you had chosen to stick around. Until you ever change your mind, John was not going to cross you.

John pocketed the paper and took the briefcase with a nod. Caius grinned, shaking his hand. His eyes widened as John’s grip tightened, John’s face twisting into a snarl as he yanked him forward and slamming his head against the briefcase. His men jumped into action, pulling out their guns. Before they could shoot, one of them took a bullet through his forehead. His companion turned, shaken, then whipped his head around to where their sniper was supposed to be.

You gave him a mock solute before aiming the red dot on his forehead. He took a deep breath and risked pointing the gun at John before he met the same fate as his companion, his body slumping to the ground.

Caius staggered, trying to orient himself as he held his head steady. John launched forward, kicking him down and beating him with the briefcase. Even with his bloodied and bruised face, he started to chuckle again, his hand holding out a trigger. The briefcase began to beep in John’s hand, making him pull himself away from Caius. He righted himself against the car as John stepped back, not taking his eyes off of the trigger.

“Nice of you to join us, dear Persephone,” Caius called out, “Why don’t you- “

John threw the briefcase as high as he could into the air, leaving you enough time to shoot it while he ran and ducked behind a wall of crates nearby. The explosion rattled the car and knocked Caius off his feet. John could hear the boots against metal as you made your way down the ladder and dropped, a sniper rifle that you stole from Caius’s man strapped to your back.

“How?” John asked.

“You left without telling me,” you said with a shrug, walking passed him quickly so he couldn’t see the anger and hurt on your face.

You stood above Caius, recognizing his face from those times he’d visit the Instructor. You remembered him and the favor. You kicked the trigger out of his hand and stepped on his fingers. “You don’t know everything about your sister, do you?” you asked him lowly.

Caius glared up at you. “And you do? You don’t even know everything about yourself! Do you even know your parents? Don’t you want to know what really happened to them?”

Your eyes narrowed as you pressed your foot down on his hand, a hiss escaping his bloodied lips. “At this point, I don’t care if they’re really alive or not, if that’s what you’re implying. All I know is that you shouldn’t be the one making deals around here,” you said steadily, pulling out your vorpal blade and twirled it around.

“You think my sister’s mutt scares me?” Caius mocked, reaching with his free hand for his pocket. John walked over and stepped on it, kneeling down and held his hidden blade at his throat. Caius laughed. “You’re gonna get angry over name calling, Jardani? You must be in deep. You are not the John Wick we all knew. Retirement’s made you soft.”

John pressed the blade, drawing blood from his neck. “Stop, John,” you told him, pulling out a marker from your jacket pocket, “It took a while, but the pieces are falling into place or did you lose parts of your memory as well? You owe me, Caius.”

“Fuck you,” he spat, “markers don’t work on people like you.”

“Markers always needed to be dealt with no matter what. You want to talk about rules? Then own it up.”

Caius grounded his teeth, mulling his options over. His men were killed within minutes and two highly trained assassins could kill him in a second. He hadn’t trained as much as his sister, so there was no way he could try to take them on.

John pressed the blade in harder, speeding up his thinking process. “Alright, alright,” Caius shouted, “What do you want me to do?”

-

You never thought you’d be back to that small private theater that you tried to abandon all those years ago. John saw the conflicting emotions on your face and remained by your side as the two of you followed Caius into the building. There were many new members that went about their training, casting cautious and curious glances at the guests that their Instructor brought home. You knew that John was keeping a protective eye on you, so you brush your hand against his in reassurance.

“Brings you back memories, Miss (Y/l/n)?” Caius asked, turning his head to you and smirked.

“Like a trip down memory lane,” you said sarcastically.

Caius simply hummed, leading the two of you to the back passed the practice and dressing rooms towards the main office. The moment you passed the last dressing room, you spot the familiar face of Marion who had been whispering to another girl in a pink leotard. The girl spotted you at the doorway, her blue eyes widening. Marion whipped her head around and glared at you.

Before, you would have been shocked, maybe even frightened at the murderous look directed your way. Now, you only wondered how you could have lived with your former roommate and coworker and not have anything trigger your memories. So you simply grimaced and walked on. 

You knew that the Instructor had no plans to kill you, but you sensed this animosity from Marion even within the last five years of living and working with her. When the Bowery Boys learned that Marion was leading a team to find you, there was no way she wouldn’t try to find a way to get rid of you, which is why you planted the timed gas bomb in that room that had the perfect sniping view of your old apartment.

“The best I can do is give you reign of my team leaders and in turn, have control over their teams,” Caius offered, stepping around his desk and plopping himself down in the large leather chair. He waved at one of his assistants to get an ice pack and first aid kit. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, how about guns?” John said, eyeing the office walls filled with historical paintings.

Caius sighed. “You do realize that I’m practically holding up my operation because of you,” he said, pulling a cigar out of an ornate box, “Want one?”

John shook his head, standing in front of the desk. “Did you even plan what you were going to do if it ever worked?”

You moved over to one of the paintings, running a finger along the wooden frame. Caius kept an eye on you and said, “It’s a monopoly, isn’t it? I can do anything and own everything.”

“But you can’t do… everything, though, can you?” you said, spinning on your heel to face him, “The High Table won’t let you.”

Caius narrowed his eyes. “Is this what it is about?” he asked curiously, wagging the cigar between you and John.

“There will be even more benefits for you if you help us,” John said, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the nearby liquor cabinet and pulling out three glasses. He poured in each one and handed a glass to Caius. Then he took two of them and offered one to you. You took it gratefully, raising the glass to John. The two of you downed it at the same time, your eyes never leaving his.

Caius clicked his tongue, breaking the eye contact as the two of you turned back to him. He had leaned back in his chair and smirked once he realized the energy between you two.

“Alright, things are getting interesting,” he admitted, “I do one task for you and the marker is gone. After that, I shall aid your… whatever you want to call it… out of the kindness of what’s left of my heart. Mostly, because I’m curious of the results.” He finishes with a shrug as he lit his cigar.

John nodded. “Thank you,” he said, slamming his empty glass down on the desk. The sudden force made Caius flinch, only for a second, before he smirked again.

“Of course, Mr. Wick, Miss (Y/l/n). Now, name the task.”

You walked forward and placed your hands on your hips. “Those team leaders you’ve mentioned. I want them to send a message to my connections, all of them, to see who’s still on my side,” you started.

“Of course,” Caius said with a nod.

“They need to be sent directly to them and no further interaction until I say so,” you continued, “and if there are any signs of deception or interference on your end, then I’ll just have to see what I feel like that day.”

“You have my word,” he said, spreading his hands out as if to say there were no tricks up his sleeves, “My sister and I always keep our word. You know that.”

“Then I trust that you’ve disciplined your people enough that they wouldn’t go against any orders.”

He stiffens, the familiar sternness on his face that you’ve seen hundreds of times from his sister. “They will be dealt with immediately,” he said firmly.

You hummed. “I know they will.” You looped an arm around John’s and lead him towards the door. “We’ll keep in touch,” you called over your shoulder.

Once the two of you crossed the office threshold, you tighten your grip on his arm and let out a shaky breath. Your skin was feeling prickly and the air seemed stuffy, especially with those stares from the people you passed by. You had used up all your energy and bravado as the day weighed in on you. Within a day, the man who had sent people to capture you was now working with you. If you hadn’t remembered about that marker that you had hidden in one of the tunnels of the train station, you didn’t want to think what would have happened.

“I’m tired and I need to hug your dog,” you muttered as the two of you reached the back entrance.

John smiled. “We can do that.”

-

Marion bowed her head as she stood before the Instructor, jaw taut as she waited for him to speak. How could he have invited them into their theater just like that, acting like they were acquaintances? What did you do to change his mind?

Caius flicked the end of his cigar into an ashtray and took a generous sip of whiskey that John Wick had poured before refilling it. He clicked his tongue, watching Marion shift around under his scrutiny.

“I had specific instructions, Miss Marion,” he said calmly, making Marion gulp. “To find the asset and John Wick and report back to me, no further action until I say so. From what I’ve heard, Miss Marion, is that your team had been ordered to kill them on sight. Is this an act of disobedience on their end or yours?”

Marion’s hands clenched into fists at her side as she slowly raised her head. “I told them- “

Caius held a hand behind his ear and tilted his head. “Hm, what was that? Speak louder, child,” he pressed.

“I ordered them to do it,” she said firmly.

He clicked his tongue again, downing the rest of the whiskey before standing up. He circled around her, like a lion analyzing their prey, and stopped in front of her. With cold eyes, he lifted his cigar and pressed it into her forehead, hearing her suppress a cry of pain as her eyes watered.

“You had promise, Miss Marion,” Caius said softly, so in contrast to the act he had done as he gently lifted her chin with his other hand. “Ophelia had seen it. I had seen it. And you threw it all away. For what? What caused you to deliberately disobey me?”

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n) is a traitor,” she spat, “she is not any special.”

Caius shook his head, almost in pity. “You dare question your Instructors’ judgement? You think you are better than Persephone? Why, because she shows her weaknesses? You may have trained with her and fought alongside her, but you lack in something that she does have. Honor.”

“She killed her own people! She turned in your sister to John fuckin’ Wick! There is no honor in that.” Marion yanked herself away from him and knocked the cigar out of his hands. She quickly turned away, shaking. She never had raised her voice in defiance in front of any of the Instructors before.

“She sought vengeance for her family and killed only those who were involved. My sister was simply in both her and John Wick’s way, thus the nature of the game of our lives. She was getting reckless and it was bound to happen. I love my sister dearly, but I won’t pull a Santino and stab Death in the back when I could have both Death and the Bringer of Death on my side.”

Marion felt cold metal pressed into her head followed by a click. Her blood ran cold but her tears ran hot as she closed her eyes. “I don’t understand,” she croaked.

“If your disobedience is caused by petty jealousy, at least have the decency to do it yourself. I have no doubt that there will be people on her side, because they know she’ll honor her words. Your team cannot say the same for you. Goodbye, Miss Marion.”

Blood splattered onto the wall and painting, but it could easily be cleaned by the right people. Marion’s body instantly collapsed to the floor, creating a pool of blood around her. Two of his men appeared at the door and wrapped her body in sheets before carrying her away.

Caius fixed his tie and tucked his gun away. Now, to see what Persephone and her Hades will do next.

-

Taglist:

@venusgothic 

@weappreciatepower

@anita-e-taylor

@mikaneonox

@sparrowsparrow

@introvertedmegalomaniac

[aboyandhisstarship]

SICON verse: we hereby withdraw

It’s the end of the bug war arc!

Watson:

The Alien pulled out a something about the size of a dinner plate holding up, Churchill whinnied As Ericson eyes went wide sprinting forward tackling he Alien  yelling “CODE 9 authorization Dagger 1 Alpha PI 9”  

The ships light went red as he demanded “Sargent get them out of here now!”

Francis dragged the squad out as the door sealed behind them with a clunk a few seconds later the ship rocked with an explosion

The PA system crowed “Warning code 9 has been initiated, a hostile presence on board the Watson Security teams follow your planned routes…”

Francis tuned out the Pa as he said “Depoint!”

The medic was already grabbing an emergency kit saying “ready Sarge.”

Francis wheeled “Futuba!?”

The Techy was already working on the door panel “working on over riding the LT’s command codes and getting in there.”

Francis nodded “Abebi!”

The handler was already nodding saying in Dutch “Churchill Check!” the dog started to sniff moving to a different part of the ship leaving only T’Mai and Kvella not doing anything.

Francis sighed “Hitchhiker what was that thing?”

T’Mai answered on a daze “Fuilgrtum.”

Francis frowned “excuse me?”

T’Mai sighed “it’s a mining explosive…not accessible to the public.”

A couple of security personal arrived and Francis sighed “Take these two to holding.”

Kvella said “Sarge!”

Francis answered “it’s for you own protection…the council just tried to bomb an SICON ship do you know what that means!?”

Before either Alien could answer Francis stormed away saying “I have to brief the captain,” he looked at Depoint “make sure he lives Corporal.”

Depoint nods “yes sir.”

SICON Command:

A General stepped into the Main room of The Strategic Coordination center Saying “Sir, we received a transmission from the Watson.”

The Prime minster of the Strategically integrated coalition of Nations looked up “must be something serious if you involved me Bill.”

The General nodded “yes sir it is…” handing over a data pad.

The Prime minster read it over saying “is this Legit?”

The General “It has been verified by the Ground team that was given it, the Ship it self and ourselves…it is real Sir.”

The Prime Minster sighed “the implications of this…are massive.”

A Yeoman ran in saluting “sirs…The Watson has just been bombed by a council Intel officer.”

The Prime Minster took a deep Breath “Cover up?”

The General nods “seems likely Sir.”

The Prime Minster nodded “Bill…”

The General sighs “you know what you need to do sir.”

The Prime Minster sighs “Get me our ambassador to the Council, Bill Get our people out of there.”

The General asked “full with draw?”

The prime Minster sighs “bill we might be about to fight a war with the Council.”

The General nodded “yes sir.”

 Watson: Captain Hernández walked down the Corridor saying “Confirm orders?”

The Officer walking to her says “we are to withdraw from Council space and detain all Aliens until no more Sabotage can be confirmed.”

Francis cut in “Ma’am Specialist T’Mai and Kvella are already in the brig and Churchill is making a sweep now, but for the record I don’t see them trying to hurt us.”

Hailey nodded “Agreed, hold them there for now through…we don’t want any angry humans making mistakes.”

Francis nodded “The council officer was killed in the blast The Lt…Lieutenant Ericson is currently in Surgery.”

Hailey stopped touching his shoulder “I’m worried about Will as well but Depoint is with him.” Her face went serious as he spoke again on the record “Sargent you are currently the ranking Orbital Assault Core officer onboard this ship correct.”

Francis nodded “that is correct ma’am.”

Hailey nodded “I want you leading those sweeps not missing anything.”

Francis sighed “yes ma’am” as he went towards engineering as she kept walking saying “Commander how is our propulsion?”

 The Galactic Council Floor:

The tension in the room was palpable as the Ambassador entered flanked on all sides by a detail of Orbital Assault core in full power armor, The ambassador Adjusted her suit as she stood in the middle of the room, A Kalber spoke “you have called this meeting Ambassador.”

The human took a deep breath before she held out a tablet causing the evidence of the council misdeeds to appear in holographic form in the massive room she spoke saying “this Evidence was presented to us at 1600 hours earth time. It has been verified and it shows clear intent to harm humans and use us for this council own ends. As Such Effective as of now The Strategically Integrated Collation of nations hereby withdraws from the Galactic Council , and all Person’s or things considered Assets of this government will be ejected from any position of Military or governmental power within SICON, including Intelligence officers, Exchange program Soldiers, Council sponsored News reporters among others, these Person’s will be returned unharmed to Council space, any attempt to harm any human will be met with extreme force…the joint chiefs of staff suggest that you do not test our resolve on this point…Good day.”  

And without another word the Ambassador left the building where a ship was waiting to take her back to earth.

 Watson Infirmary:

Futuba sighed “so that’s the word LT.”

Ericson Lay in his hospital bed Churchill in his lap as he saying “at least we did not declare war.”

Depoint adjusted the IV bag saying “Parliament did not approve that course of action.”

Will smiled “that’s always good.”

T’Mai and Kvella were escorted inside and armed guards looked they were going to say But Ericson said “you can leave”

The guard said “sir…”

Ericson sighed “That’s an order.”

The guards nodded “yes sir.”

Kvella said “LT…”

Ericson smiled at them saying “None of that, neither of you had anything to do with this mess your good people and it was a pleasure serving with you both.”

Francis stopped playing with his Paddle ball “so what now for you both?”

T’Mai sighed “I’m resigning my commission first chance I get…it can’t stay not after what I learned, maybe get a job on Kalbus somewhere.”

Kvella shrugged with her tentacles “they will chew me out, I’m going to quit…maybe go independent…the Council controls to much of the News service anyway.”

Depoint said “LT you need to get some sleep.”

Will sighed “right…hey listen if I cant be there for when you guys go back…I just wanna say…”

T’Mai smiled “I know sir, but honestly I should be thanking you. You saved my life and showed me something worth fighting for.”

Kvella took the LT hand saying “you won’t get out of being interviewed by me that easily Will.”

Will felt himself falling back to sleep saying with a chuckle “the hitchhiker and the Tourist…just be careful out there not everyone is as nice we are.”

T’Mai chuckled “you got it Boss.”

Kvella squeezed Wills hand Gently as Hailey entered the door, the humans snapped to attention but Hailey waved her hand “I didn’t interrupt anything did I?”

T’Mai shook his head “no Ma’am just saying our goodbyes to the LT.”

Hailey nodded “for what it’s worth I  was very impressed with everything you guys did this last year.”

The guards reentered saying “you are going to have to come with us again.”

 Fleet station nine:

Kvella and T’Mai approached the shuttle to see Dagger waiting for them.  Francis stepped forward saying “T’Mai…Listen about what I said this past year…”

T’Mai stopped him “were good Sarge.”

Francis smiled handing him the Paddleball saying “something to remember our time among the death worlders.”

T’Mai gave Francis a slight hug as He turned to Kvella “hey look at it this way, no more being ordered not to fly your drone around.”

Kvella hugged him briefly with her tentacles, before the Irish man whiped away some tears saying with a smile “look I got to go file some paperwork cause the LT is laid out stay out of trouble huh?”

T’Mai shook his head “your one to talk.”

Francis walked way chuckling. T’Mai turned around to see a barely holding back Tears Futuba who says with a small voice “you will call right…”

T’Mai nods to Futuba saying “whenever I can.”

The girl lunches herself at him saying “I’m going to miss you!”

T’Mai adds “And I you.”

Futuba still hugging T’Mai says “Don’t just stand there Kvella Get in on this.”

The Squad like alien Adds her tentacle’s to the large mass Futuba said again “I’m really going to miss you guys!”

Kvella flexed one of her tentacle’s saying “it is not over yet, I have a feeling we will meet each other again.”

Futuba nods “I hope you are right.”

Futuba reluctantly Lets the two go allowing them to advance closer to their shuttle. Depoint says with a smile “Well looks like this is it.”

T’Mai nods “so it seems.”

Depoint reaches out shaking their paws/tentacle “Thanks for not getting hurt too often.” She finished with a chuckle

T’Mai returned “you already had the LT we figured you had that quota filled.”

Kvella flexed her tentacle “thank you, for what you told us on earth…for helping me to look at the stars not us as a simple place that exists but a roadmap of possibilities.”

Depoint shook her head “Happy to do it…even if you don’t have long to enjoy it.”

Abebe said awkwardly “I didn’t know you guys that long but still I’m sorry you lost your place here with us.”

T’Mai smiled roughly “it is alright, as you humans say all good things must come to an end.”

The two looked back at Fleet Station nine for a minute shuttle which wasted no time taking off and jumping into hyperspace.

 Kalbus:

T’Mai wondered the streets of his home world most people didn’t look at him with anything more than whispers about him being among the humans, the word traitor was thrown around but T’Mai didn’t care. Just an hour earlier he had turned down the promotion they tried to give him and resigned his commission in front of the whole admiralty, he felt good laying out his displeasure with everything they have done before leaving without anther word. T’Mai looked up at the Night sky of Kalbus seeing the Gas giant his world is a moon of he sighed as he saw how close the stars were.