#does this count as dystopia? you tell me

[venus-haze]

Dawn Patrol (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: You never thought you’d see him again. Your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime-fighting, the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It seems like the universe is giving you a second chance when you end up in this place with Homelander. Except, this one isn't quite like the man you remember, but he's not letting that stop him.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also a different take on the “love of your life died and came back but something's wrong” horror trope. Title comes from the Megadeth song (which is about living in a dystopia). Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship. Intense feelings of loss, confusion, and self-doubt on the reader’s part. Some elements of unreality? Homelander is extremely manipulative, possessive, and gaslights the hell out of the reader in this, but no physical harm is done. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The man standing in front of you wasn’t John, not your John, at least. He acted strange whenever you called him that. Homelander felt so impersonal, though, a title and persona rather than the man you loved your whole life. You silently scolded yourself. You shouldn’t complain so much, not when he believed you, against all reason, despite never having met you before in this version of reality. If it were even real. 

You had crumbled the first time you saw him. Weeks of being locked in a lab, poked and prodded and tested before he entered with an unfamiliar coldness. It had to have been a cruel trick, these people using your greatest vulnerability against you. John had been presumed dead for years. The ache that consumed you at his loss made it hard to even breathe sometimes, and you’d spent countless nights alone in your formerly shared bed, wracked by guilt for not doing more as you silently implored the universe to give you one more chance. You should have known it’d come with plenty of strings attached.

His name echoed through the room in a desperate howl. You strained against the titanium cuff you were chained to, and he froze upon hearing one of the links break. Rabid, desperate, tears streamed down your face in your delirium. You needed to touch him, to feel for yourself that it wasn’t your brain tricking you again. It has to be real this time.

His breath hitched as he approached you, the way animal control does a feral dog–cautious and gentle, but still regarding you with a level of distrust. Your struggle subsided with each step he took, until he was finally in arms’ reach. Looking into his blue eyes for the first time in years, your hand trembled as you lifted it to caress his cheek. Soft and warm like you’d remembered. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m your–Gemini,” you said. “‘Cause I can–”

“Make duplicates of yourself, they told me. Who are you?”

“Not here, but somewhere else, I'm your partner in, well, everything. We grew up across the street from each other,” you told him. “Your powers showed up sooner than mine, but your mom always said we were a package deal, so when we started fighting crime together, it just made sense that we’d fall in love too.”

“My mom?” he whispered.

“She was the one who came up with the name Gemini for me.”

His gaze softened, his eyes turning cloudy. You recognized that look. Deep in thought, a million miles away, the only place John wouldn’t take you. This one didn’t seem eager to do so either. Did he and his mom not get along here? Was she dead, even? 

He cleared his throat. “Go on.”

“We called ourselves Dawn Patrol because we’d get up before school to do our superhero stuff, and it stuck.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

“I already told them–”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You recoiled a bit. Your story began at the end, and while you managed to tell it to a group of seemingly indifferent white coats, recounting it to the man himself, or some version of him, was almost too much to bear. Still, you pushed through.

Phantom, that’s what he called himself, selfish and conniving with the ability to teleport in the shadows and seemingly shift reality itself. He was a particular menace that you and Homelander could never quite get the upper hand on, the situation imploding when Homelander, your Homelander, tackled the supervillain mid-teleport. The last thing you saw of him was his back as he disappeared with Phantom. 

No one had seen him since. Despite Phantom’s insistence that he didn’t know what happened to Homelander, you kept an irrational, unrelenting grudge against him for taking the love of your life away from you. Guilt and rage fueled you, and in your most recent, and presumably last encounter with your arch-nemesis, you made the same mistake Homelander did, and ended up wherever the hell you were.

“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re an unprecedented liar,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your wrists, “but I believe you.”

A beastial imitation of your first and only love transformed before your eyes over the following weeks. In his absence, your yearning had grown teeth, long and sharp, hungry to tear through flesh and for your flesh to be torn. This new man’s rib cage cracked open to offer part of himself to recreate you. You looked into the crimson void and saw his beating heart, a long-suffering shrine to you as yours was to his, or at least some memory of him. A loneliness you were all too familiar with was already settled deep within him. Why needlessly suffer though a monastic existence any longer?

You, in turn, indulged in him. Allowed your hunger to overtake you and break your involuntary fast as you devoured him. Insatiable, your lips pressed against the skin of this stranger that nevertheless you knew by heart. In your grief, in your anger, you’d pulled him out from the ether. You wondered if you could put him back together as the man you knew he could be, bloody your hands raw clawing back the damage that had been done to him by whoever came before you. 

The first few days, you tried as much, the two of you hardly letting up from your entanglement in his bed. You stared at the mirror on the ceiling, taking him in with the attentiveness of the crowds that gathered around the tragically small Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Then, in the quiet moments, in tones hardly above hushed whispered, he’d ask you questions about this other life and upbringing he never got to experience, pensive at your answers, almost bothered at times. 

Most of his questions seemed to be about his parents, especially his mother. Though your phone had been returned to you, it had no signal, but you were able to show him photos. Some of the last ones of you and John together was at a Fourth of July party in his parents’ backyard. One of his aunts had taken a candid photo of you, John and his parents sitting together at one of the patio tables, smiling and laughing. You had everything documented, from weddings to birthday parties to school days. John always poked fun at you for taking the phrase “take a picture, it’ll last longer” so seriously. 

Now, reflecting on these times with his other, you clung to him as you watched him swipe through this other version of himself’s life. Studying it, silently reflecting on your stories and anecdotes as if to memorize them, be able to recite them by heart.

Despite the distorted period of reunited bliss, you could tell something was off about Homelander. He talked his way around your questions about his own upbringing, never quite giving you a straight answer and occasionally snapping at you when you pressed for more details. Your eyes widened the first time he did so, heart skipping a beat or two, you couldn’t recall John raising his voice at you like that before. Homelander noticed your reaction right away, soothing you with reassurances that he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be.

It seemed like he was mad at a lot of other people, though. He’d go on long rants about people at Vought, this corporation that didn’t exist where you were from but somehow controlled so much of his life and that of every other superhero. Walking around the tower with him, you noticed the way people’s demeanors shifted when he was there, a nervous submission he seemed to bask in but made your stomach feel sour. 

His attempts not to scare you, to put you at ease with the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him were never quite as successful as he hoped. The warning voice in your brain knew something was off about him. You ignored it as best you could, figuring you could manage a way to handle him and chalking it up to the loneliness he was entrenched in before you came along. One night, a rarity wherein you were alone in his suite and finally had a chance to think the situation through, you panicked, hatching a messy escape plan.

Leaving a duplicate of yourself behind in the living room, you slipped out of the suite, walking down the long hallway to the elevator. The tower was so tall that it required switching elevators to get from the top floor to the lobby, and so you made the initial descent to the 50th floor.

The ride down was excruciatingly long, and every time the elevator stopped to let someone in, you felt yourself freeze up. No one acknowledged you at any point during the descent, filtering in and out, minding their own business. 

When you switched elevators, you knew you were in the home stretch. Your heart raced as you pressed the ‘L’ for the lobby, the star next to the button assuring you that the ground floor would be your ticket out of there. By the time you were on the single-digit floors, you were alone again.

At least, you were until you reached the lobby. The doors opened, revealing Homelander waiting for you behind them. You backed into the wall on the opposite side of the steel box, as if that’d do anything to protect you.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”

He entered the elevator, reaching over to press the button back up to the 50th floor. Silence for nearly twenty floors, though you were sure the sound of your rapidly beating heart was deafening to him.

Finally, you spoke. “How did you know?”

“Your duplicate’s pretty convincing, but they don’t have a heartbeat,” he said. 

John had never told you that. Your duplicates were perfect copies of you, your abnormal physical strength sapped to create each one so that they could take damage from attacks in your place. It never occurred to you that they were so blatantly lifeless.

The doors opened on the 50th floor, and instead of going in the next one over to continue the ascent, Homelander pulled you into an empty office. He closed the door, darkness engulfing the room. When you reached for a light switch, he caught your wrist in his hand instead.

“If you have a problem, you talk to me about it. You do not try to fake me out and run,” he hissed. “Do you really think the fucking white coats I saved you from would just let you walk out of here? You’d end up right back in that room. All of those things that he had, the loving parents, the pretty suburban life with your childhood sweetheart that's straight out of a fucking romcom? I didn't get that because of them."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "You didn't deserve that."

"No," he said, almost shocked at your acknowledgement of how horrific his upbringing was. "I didn't. You're here, now, though, so we're both getting what we want."

Not like this. Not you.

Yet, you were stuck with the hand you had been dealt. This corrupted imitation of the man you loved, who nevertheless was so desperate for the intense emotions you felt for him otherwise that he was willing to believe you despite all logic telling him otherwise. 

The way he spoke about the people back in the lab you’d been held in, as if he knew, experienced what you did and even worse. Saved you from it. Maybe you could try. Maybe that could get you somewhere.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Being around him rendered you emotionally vulnerable. He looked just like him, and at times acted almost exactly the same. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could convince yourself it was him. How long could you go on doing that before you walked around blindly?

“Babe, did you hear a word I just said?” Homelander asked.

You looked up at him. “Got distracted, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, the slightest smile on his face. “I’ll chalk it up to my good looks. I know you’ve been cooped up for a while, so I want you to do a team-up with me tomorrow night. It’ll be Dawn Patrol, just like old times.”

Old times? There were no old times. Not with him. 

Nevertheless, you agreed. “Yeah, it’d be nice to get back out there. Haven’t done it in a while.”

“Once you’re back at it, you won’t even have to think about it, like riding a bike,” he paused for a moment, “I guess.”

His excitement the following day was infectious. You hadn’t done any crime-fighting in a long time, and doing so with him would surely help you ease into it again. He was always the best of the best, but it seemed like here, not only was he deified, but he reveled in it.

When he brought you to his superhero team’s private gym to train, he was almost shocked at how well your powers and fighting style seemed to compliment him. Elation filled your chest. Maybe you’d jumped to conclusions too soon about him. You just had to be more flexible, willing to compromise to make it work. 

You were thrown off upon being presented with a crime-fighting schedule that night. A self-professed crime analytics team explained their methodology to you. When you looked to Homelander in disbelief, he seemed unfazed by the information. Being able to predict crime down to the minute just to bolster careers and social media followings seemed far from ethical, but from what little you’d learned of Vought in the weeks you’d been there, that wasn’t a concern of theirs.

Flying with him again was almost too overwhelming, bringing back memories of you and John in your teenage years. Instead of partying with your peers, the two of you would pick up fast food late on Saturday nights, sitting on suburban rooftops with your police scanner, eating burgers and listening for trouble. He’d grab you by the waist, flying off with you to stop some bad guys. Of course, people complained to your parents that you’d leave chicken nugget boxes and ketchup packets on their roofs in your haste. 

By the time Homelander landed in an alley just a block away from where the crime would supposedly take place, you were crying. 

“You okay? I thought you’d be used to it.”

“I am. It’s just been a while. Brought back a lot of memories.”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “You won’t have to go so long without flying with me again. I promise, babe.”

You sniffled, giving him a weak smile. “Let’s go get some bad guys.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The next few minutes were silent as Homelander listened for the sound of a bank alarm. Late-night robbery, the crime analytics team had told you, it couldn’t be easier. You weren’t sure what time it was when Homelander grabbed you, the familiar gesture of his arm around your waist making you feel overwhelmed again. 

When he landed, you could see the glass doors leading into the bank had been smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk that crunched beneath your boots. There’d be three bank robbers, one lookout while the other two took what they could from the vault. You and Homelander already agreed that you’d take on the lookout and then join him in subduing the others.

You hesitated for a moment when you and Homelander split up, but you didn’t let it distract you too much. The lookout froze upon seeing you duplicate, his hand shaking as he pointed the gun between you and your temporary clone. Whichever one he shot, you’d heal fast enough, though you’d get less damage if he shot the duplicate rather than you.

His impulsiveness proved to be his downfall, as your duplicate began to walk toward him, and he pulled the trigger, nearly passing out when the clone de-materialized before him. 

In his moment of distraction, you knocked the gun from his hand, grabbing a nearby desk phone and hitting him in the temple with it. You kicked the gun to the other side of the room before he could reach for it and hit him in the head again. He dropped to the ground, unmoving on the floor.

You set off to find Homelander. The vault was empty when you got there, a mess of valuable and still smoldering scorch marks in the wall where either the thieves had used explosives to break their way in, or Homelander had lasered them into oblivion. Regardless, there was no sign of anyone.

“Homelander?” you called out. 

No response. You looked around frantically for any sign of him.

You couldn’t lose him again, not even this terrifying version of him. “Homelander, where did you go?”

Silence again. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you turned around, setting off for another part of the building in hopes of finding him. There wasn’t anyone else you could count on here, and for all his faults, he was the only person you trusted. 

Just when it felt hopeless and your brain was about to implode on itself at the sinking notion that maybe he was gone, a loud bang came from the other side of the bank where the vault was. You rushed over without a second thought for your own safety. Besides, the injury your duplicate had taken on your behalf was already healing. You'd do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.

Homelander stood in the middle of the previously empty vault, the two thieves knocked out, or maybe they were dead. It didn’t matter, because he clearly wasn’t.

“Where were you?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No you haven’t. I came over here and there was no one. I called out for you and—“

“And what?”

“I wanna go home,” you cried, clinging to him. “Please, let’s just go home.”

He nodded, his superhuman strength allowing him to scoop you up in his arms with ease. You always felt safe in them, and you pressed your head to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat as he flew back to his suite at the tower.

His heart always beat faster than anyone else’s, having to maintain the life of the most powerful superhero to ever live. It was a heavy burden, though you tried your best to offset it, you sometimes felt too reliant on him. He never made you feel bad for it, neither version of him did.

You were still a bit dazed when he landed, shuffling into his living room and leaning against the back of the couch. He said he had been in the vault, but you knew it had been empty when you walked over to it. You knew what you saw.

“You did great with the lookout. I can help you train more, and we’ll try again in a few days,” he said. “I’ll get the crime analytics team to find us another softball one.”

“Homelander,” you began tentatively, “back there did you–did you do that on purpose? Disappear on me?”

“Of course not, darling, why would I do something like that after everything you've been through?” he asked, his voice soft enough that if you let yourself, you could pretend for a few moments he was your Homelander. “I told you, I was in the vault the whole time.”

“I can’t lose you again,” you said, your voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“You won’t. I’ve always been here. I love you.”

He’s lying, the voice in your head screamed, he’s not your John. There’s something wrong. 

You ignored it, choosing instead to kiss him, to drown out the rational with the feeling of your lover’s lips again. You would take this Homelander over none at all. “I love you too.”

[mysticstarlightduck]

Supernova Initiative - WIP Intro/WIP Someday Tag

I wasn't tagged for this recently, but I wanted to make a WIP Intro/WIP Someday post for this story in the style of my previous post for Song of Thorns (here). So here we go😅! Feel free to make your own version of this Tag for one of your WIPs, if you'd like!

By the way, if you like this, please reblog, it helps a lot 💕

And tell me if you'd like to be added to any future taglists of this WIP!

Rules: Pick a WIP. Post something about it. On a Wednesday. Or whenever! It can be literally anything! (:

WIP INTRO - Supernova Initiative

Title: Supernova Initiative

Genre: Science Fiction/Space Opera/Adventure & Mystery/Whump

Tags: #wip supernova initiative #supernova initiative

Synopsis/What Is It About?

Jack Tithus, a young and charming intergalactic thief, along with his crew - Vesper Foxx, a feared cyborg assassin; Cassiopeia Tithus, his younger sister who is also a genius engineer; Aleks Keldora, a master in the art of temporary identity theft; and Artemis Zreeth, their edgy new recruit - are the most wanted criminals in this quadrant of the galaxy. Never once caught, the team defies their galaxy's oppressive government by using their combined talents to steal from the government as their own act of rebellion.

However, their luck takes an unexpected turn for the worst when they find themselves set up and arrested after a botched heist. Taken to the most secure facility in the whole Junction, the group expects nothing but problems in the coming future - instead, they are offered a strange deal: if they agree to work for the Junction and retrieve some highly classified files that were lost in a hostile planetary system, they will be spared from execution. With few other options, the group begrudgingly accepts to carry out this heist for the government they spent their lives trying to undermine.

Meanwhile, Jack finds himself trapped in a horrifying web of unethical experiments and illegal bioengineering when, while still having to carry out the heist along with his crew, he is secretly forced to become a test subject to the fearsome Director, head of the Junction's division of sciences, unbeknownst to his crew.

The team will need to count on the help of old allies-turned-rivals such as the cold-blooded mercenary and sniper Deimos Soll, their former crewmate, and the secret agent assigned to oversee their mission, an uptight and by-the-book young man called Noctus - if they wish to complete the most dangerous heist of their lives, and get their freedoms back.

Tropes and Nice Stuff! (Or, a.k.a. What you can expect in this book!)

Found Family/Team as Family!

Space adventure, exploration of unique, uncanny, beautiful, and outlandish alien planets, all the good science fiction stuff!

Robots, cyborgs, and sarcastically friendly AI!

A terrifyingly strict aspiring utopian regime that promises progress and freedom but is actually an unethical dystopia in disguise, with many bloodied skeletons in the closet, if you will.

Intergalactic politics, multiple alien cultures, and a bubbling interplanetary conflict about to explode between vastly different civilizations, each seeking either revenge or power.

Sibling bonds! A lot of this story centers around the siblings Jack and Cassiopeia Tithus, and the struggles they go through to keep each other safe and live another day, among some other notable siblings throughout the book.

Laboratory whump - A LOT OF IT. Also expect a crazy, unethical scientist/politician as a villain who is willing to do absolutely horrid things in the name of progress, even if it means human experimentation.

A suspicious, morally grey antihero with a reputation for being a cold-blooded killer, whom you'd expect is going to betray the group sooner or later, but is actually one of their most loyal allies and HAS A REDEMPTION ARC aaaaaa

Heists! Heists! Heists! And all the good stuff that comes along with this trope!

An edgy rogue-type character who is super impulsive and does not always make the best decisions, who only recently joined the group but would defend them with his life.

Traumatized - and hot - cyborg assassin lady on the path to have revenge on the people who destroyed her life in the past, and who is going to get said revenge in ✨style✨

A conformist secret agent who has always been "the perfect soldier" and follows rules like his life depends on it has an existential crisis and learns that his government has lied to him

A subplot that follows a young cadet from the Junction's Void Program, who discovers a dark secret about their government and starts investigating, but who needs to escape (and ends up meeting the MCs) after the government makes an attempt on his life + his war hero (adoptive) older brother who is a fighter pilot and really just needs a break and was tasked by their parents with trying to keep Pax from getting into even more trouble, but fails successfully.

Outcasts and society's "rejects" decide to make a better future together and it is great

Angst, team dynamics, and a lot of action-packed fight scenes!

And more! ✨

Meet The Main Cast! (The good guys)

Jack Tithus

A charming and rebellious intergalactic thief, Jack always sought a better life for himself and his younger sister, Cassiopeia, his only family - and he finally got his chance many years ago by joining a famous space pirate crew and leaving the dusty mining settlement moon he grew up in behind. After that, he took on a solo career - along with his sister and a few friends they had made along the way - and became the most wanted thief in the galaxy. He only steals from the government and seeks to help people who are oppressed or neglected by the system. He has a kind heart and a free spirit, and despite being a thief has a stronger moral compass than most, believing in breaking the rules to do what is truly right.

Cassiopeia Tithus

Cassiopeia - or Cassie, as she is usually called - is a brilliant robot engineer and inventor, able to build even the most complex machines from little more than scraps. She built her first robot when she was a child and has had a passion for mechanics ever since. A part of her older brother's outlaw team, Cassie uses her tech to aid in the heists and allow them to be mostly undetected. Most times. A lively young girl with a fiery personality, Cassiopeia has a lot of passion for what she does and is the glue that keeps their little team of misfits together.

Aleks Keldora

Raised by his two mothers on a struggling planet on the edge of the system, Aleks always wanted to help his family financially and give his mothers the life they deserved. However, struggling with self-esteem issues and often feeling discarded by society, Aleks knew what it meant to be invisible in the eyes of the world around him - with his family being the only ones who ever saw him for who he was. Tired of feeling left out by the world, and wanting to help his mothers - whose business was about to go bankrupt - Aleks decided to take a stand after winning a high-tech device in an underworld completion, a mask that allowed him to shapeshift into anyone he'd like. With the help of this mask and his other talents, Aleks completed his first heist in secret and was able to use the funds to help keep his family's business afloat, though they never knew the truth about how he got the money. After that, finally able to use his feeling of being invisible to his advantage, Aleks became more and more bold, eventually leaving his home planet in search of better heists to be able to continue to support his family.

Vesper Foxx

Traumatized by the day her home planet was raided by a ruthless group of mercenaries - who were hired by the neighboring galaxy's government to establish a Junction colony in Khosmonian territory - Vesper was kidnapped by the soldiers along with her oldest brother, Atheris, after their mother was killed in the raids. After witnessing him be tortured and killed, which scarred for life, Vesper was able to flee in an escape pod, being reunited with her little sister, Lysia, and their cousin, Deya, with whom she left their destroyed homeland behind. Despite settling down in another planetary system with the family she had left, the girl was never able to let go of the past, yearning for justice and revenge. Eventually, she left behind her sister and her cousin to pursue the deaths of the mercenaries who destroyed her life, using cyborg implants and upgrades to turn herself into the deadliest assassin in either galaxy.

Artemis Zreeth

The son of a renowned bounty hunter, Artemis never thought he would ever join their galaxy's criminal underworld, but after his father was betrayed by the crew he trusted the most, Artemis was left to fend for himself. Feeling betrayed by the system he trusted and lacking a purpose in life, Artemis survived by doing some gigs as a mercenary and pirate, a gun for hire in the criminal underworld. After winning a race and accidentally meeting the main cast, Artemis joins the group thinking this would just be another job to pay the bills, but as they spend more and more time together, the teenager finds that this group of outcasts might be the closest thing he's had to a family in a long while.

Pax Stellaryn

A genius young cadet, on his way to becoming the youngest cadet to ever graduate from the Junction's Void Program, Pax always wanted to make his beloved adoptive family proud, feeling oftentimes like a fish out of the water. After discovering a terrifying government intrigue by accident, Pax finds a chance to prove that he too can be a hero, and sets off to investigate more about this and seek a way to prevent the Junction's wretched plan from coming to fruition, after realizing his life too is in danger. However, he may have overestimated his ability to get out of this mess alone.

Deimos Soll

A cold-blooded and practical sniper, Deimos was Jack and Cassie's childhood best friend and their first crewmate. The trio split ways years ago due to conflicting beliefs and a few bad misunderstandings and ended up becoming rivals and competition when it comes to stealing from the Junction. Years later, however, after a harrowing encounter with a cruel and sadistic woman who sought to enslave him in order to force him to join her army, Deimos ends up fleeing to the only people he ever trusted - which unfortunately means having to confront his past and face Jack and Cassie again, who is very confused about his return to the crew - while being hunted down by the insane general he seeks to escape from.

Noctus

Though his full name is classified and unknown to the cast, his reputation precedes him. He is the single most successful special forces secret agent currently in the employ of the Junction - he has never failed a mission, never missed a target. And he always follows orders, always obeys the rules. However, is everything about him what it seems? A forgotten and suppressed part of his memory may prove that the system he fought so dearly to uphold may have actually made him into their perfect living weapon, and there may be many other lies yet to be uncovered

Ethean Mirannir

Pax's adoptive older brother, Ethean is a fighter pilot who has made a name for himself as a war hero and has always been the perfect soldier. Unexpectedly, he finds himself having to choose between his duty to the government and keeping his family safe when Pax discovers a secret that even he had no idea existed.

A few Plot Points, chaotically described🙃 (A.k.a - Badly Summarized WIP Tag but different)

Celebrating a successful heist on a space diner with the homies

I don't know why but I have a feeling this is going suspiciously well for our standards... Are we being set up? Hmm. Nah, I must be thinking too much into it-

Yep. Yes, we were being set up.

🎶Hell to the no, to the no, no, no🎶 WHAT IN THE DYSTOPIAN BULLCRAP EVEN IS THIS PLACE?

"Making shady deals with psycho government officers and bargaining for our freedom - with a bonus of Trauma✨"

THIS JUST-IN: 20-something agent totally done with everything must babysit this group of reckless space pirates that refuse to obey the rules

Cue the most uncomfy space travel in the whole galaxy~

"Hey guys, so yeah, this wasn't my plan either -" Promptly passes out, and everyone has more questions than answers.

Preparing to steal important files lost✨IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE✨ with a plan with came up with at 2AM with three bottles of energy drinks and a dash of improv

Operation "Let's Try Not To Die In Less than 20 Mins" begins and goes about as well as you'd expect

Losing communications with any backup we might have had and having a bit of group therapy because why not~

Things get Oh, so much worse, Special Edition - a.k.a - a not-so-nice crash landing on the worst possible planet ever

Let's improvise again Pt.2

Questionable problem-solving and emergency hot chocolate bottles

Cyborg Girl and Sniper Dude absolutely do not get along for a whole week and make it everyone else's problem

This is nice! Finally, something goes according to plan in this mess. I'm honestly surprised we got this far. Bravo to us!

(POV Shift) "Hi, yes, you're probably wondering how I even got into this mess. Let's start from the beginning."

This isn't a regular doctor's appointment, is it? What is that needle?! What are you doing -

Political drama, espionage, and manipulative teachers

And The Whump Begins

Well, well, well if it isn't the Consequences of my actions striking back at last. I probably should've mentioned this teeny tiny major problem sooner though. Yeah, my bad...

This is either the single most adorable little alien or the most concerningly ugly thing I've ever seen and now I'm confused

Cue existential crisis - "So no one was gonna tell me my whole life was a lie? Cool. Cool. Just checking... WTF"

HEIST! BADASSERY! BAD LIFE CHOICES!

Two tired older brothers try to keep their respective gremlin younger siblings from encouraging chaos and fail miserably

Insane Femme Fatale makes everyone hate her in less than 2 seconds and is so proud of it

Midnight Talks and Crispy Snacks

Things just got serious, Oh No.

How To Keep Two Rival Civilizations from Destroying Each Other 101 - We're still trying to figure it out

Hm. This plan wasn't half bad. Except it was. It was oh, so bad, OMG

To be Continued...

Playlist

Antigravity - Runaground

Superhero - Simon Curtis

Die For You - Valorant

Notorious - NEONI

Fighter - The Score

Glitter and Gold - Barns Courtney

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix @elshells

@thecomfywriter

And OPEN TAG

[acewritesfics]

A Work of Art | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: A swear or two.

Word Count: 791

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Stay still!” Y/N groans as Eddie starts to fidget once more. She was working on a project for art class and her loving metal head boyfriend offered himself to be her model. It had been a joke to begin with but Y/N convinced him to let her paint him.  

“How much longer?” He groans. 

“Not much, I promise.” She says leaning around her canvas to give him a reassuring smile. She’d been working on this painting for almost three weeks and she was finally on to the finishing touches. This painting was for a huge chunk of her final grade.  

Another 30 minutes go by and as her eyes scan her painting, she feels as though she is finally done and is extremely happy that it turned out how she imagined it would. She was confident that it was good enough to pass her grade. Getting up from behind her easel, she moves around to where Eddie is standing and hugs him in gratitude. 

“I really owe you one,” she says moving back enough to look at him. His arms are encircled around her waist as he stares lovingly into her Y/E/C eyes with his deep doe brown eyes. 

“I can think of ways you can make it up to me,” he smirks and presses his lips to hers. She smiles against his lips as she returns his kiss and pouts a little when he pulls away before it gets too heated. “And to start, m'lady, you can show me that painting.” 

“You want to see it?” She asks now a little unsure of it. Eddie was always so encouraging and supportive when it came to her artwork. Her creativity and her passion for it is one of the things that attracted him to her.  

“Of course I do!” He grins. He always loves to see her finished projects. 

“It might not be what you’re expecting,” she tells him, a tinge of red spreading across her cheeks. She pulls him over to her easel and looks down at her feet while he takes in the painting. 

She was right about it not being what he was expecting. For him it far exceeded all his expectations. Taking in the figure that was him, holding a sword and wearing a cloak, a small crown on his head as it looks as if he’s slaying some kind of monster in some sort of fire dystopia world. 

“This is fucking awesome!” He says in awe and amazement. He always knew his lady was talented but she always continues to stun him with her artwork. 

“You like it?” She asks bringing her gaze back to him, seeing him stare at the painting in awe. 

His eyes meet hers once again, his smile reaching from ear to ear. “I love it, baby. It’s truly a work of art.” 

She smiles in relief. As long as Eddie loves it, and her teacher likes it enough to pass her, that’s all that matters to her. 

“Can I keep it?” He asks he pulls her over to her bed. He kicks his shoes off and lays down leaving room for her to lay beside him. 

“You want to keep it?” She asks laying beside him, resting her head on his chest as they both looked back at the painting again. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to,” he says as he runs his fingers through her hair, instantly relaxing him. 

“You can have it,” she tells him, “once the teachers finished with it.” 

“Is that how you see me?” He asks her after a silence had fallen over them. 

She lifts her head and moves so she can see him and nods her head yes. 

“How and why?” He questions her. “I’m the town freak and outside of D&D, I’m not a hero.” 

“You’re not a freak, Eddie Munson. You just don’t conform to what society wants you to be. You’re different but that doesn’t mean you’re a freak,” She tells him. She hates it when he puts himself down and doesn’t see how amazing he actually is. “You’re a hero to those kids you have in Hellfire Club, you gave them a place where they feel like they can fit in to, you’ve given them something to look forward to, something they’ll never forget. And you’re also my hero. You saved me from those dingus kids in middle school who wanted to make my life a living hell.” 

“Good times,” he jokes, a small but genuine smile on his lips. 

“I love you, so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” she says returning his smile with one of her own. 

“I love you too, princess,” he says, pulling her down on top of him and into deep and passionate kiss. 

[vergess]

tell us more about your crazy hut job?

I'm a "Mental Health Rehabilitation Technician," which is an extremely funny and verbose way to say I'm the overnight counselor for a halfway house.

A halfway house is a type of live-in program for people who just got out of long term hospitalization, prison, etc and need help re-adjusting to normal living. In most cases, halfway houses only rehab people for 6 months. But, in my case, it's for people who completed rehab for addiction, but because of their disabilities, still need support learning complex processes like navigating pharmacy orders and medicaid before they feel comfortable living on their own. So, they stay as long as it takes them to become comfortable managing their own insurance, utilities, meds, etc.

The position is analogous to being an overnight counselor at a summer camp, but year round and for adults with detailed but ultimately straightforward medical needs (eg: I am not qualified to do inject anything but epipens and insulin; any other injection is "a nursing home problem.")

The daytime crew does most of the actual hard work, in terms of teaching people how to interact with society and get their meds on time and so on. My job is to go through the checklist of things the state wants sterilized every day, and sterilize it all. Floors, counters, walls, trash cans, phones, etc etc. Since the facility is in an 8 bedroom house, not a medical building of any kind, there's a LOT of sterilizing of just about everything all the time. Once the sterilizing is done, I organize the paperwork from that day that the daycrew did.

And when clients need help they come to me overnight.

I help with anything from panic attacks to counting out medications to budgeting, though for the most part I'm just acting as The Keeper Of The Cigarettes.

Everyone is allowed to keep their cigarettes in their rooms, but most of them prefer to lock them in the office lockbox, since they're so expensive. If they want a smoke overnight, they come to me and I unlock the box and they take what they want. If they keep cigarettes in their room they're free to go smoke whenever as long as they do it at least 20 feet from the building.

Everyone currently living there has been there for at least a year, and the facility itself has existed for decades, so it is well known in town and by the residents. In town, no one would ever dare call "The Group Home" anything as derogatory as "the crazy hut," to be clear. I don't live in some kind of monstrous backwoods dystopia, haha.

But the residents can call their home what they like. I'm not gonna be the kind of asshole who tells people they can't have a bit of fun renaming their living situation. Especially when... you know... just because people call it "the group home" doesn't mean they actually respect our residents. If calling their house the crazy hut brings them joy and lets them feel bulwarked against the social exclusion they face, then crazy hut it is.

[henrysidiotauthor]

snippet from a big hensper fanfic im working on ;) this is going to be a huge project, so subscribe to @sunflowersandscorpius on ao3 so that you dont miss the first chapter!

--

Laying on his back in the soft grass, Henry takes some deep breaths. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Just like his therapist taught him. It’s so lame. When Spiderman predicts bad things are gonna happen, it’s called spidey sense. For Henry, when he starts thinking bad things are going to happen, it’s just called anxiety.

The breathing actually does help calm Henry down a bit. He looks up, realizing that the sky looks magical tonight. Something in the Dystopian air makes everything look so much cooler. The blues and purples and pinks make Henry think of Charlotte once again. God, he misses her. He misses her fluffy hair, and the way she shakes her head at his jokes, and the way the sun kisses her warm skin, making her glow. Henry’s second favorite person, tied with Jasper. Both of them are second only to, of course, Ray.

Wow. Ray. Henry is getting really emotional tonight. He can’t help it. It’s been so long since he got the chance to visit Ray, and he knows that Christmas is soon, but it still feels so far away. Henry would never admit it, but he misses being a sidekick sometimes. It was easier, always having someone to count on if you ever messed up. Just the thought of being in one of Ray’s fatherly bear hugs makes Henry want to cry. Ray was... well, an idiot. But he was so full of love. And he was like a dad to Henry. Shwoz, Ray, Charlotte, and Jasper. His little family. Henry wondered what Ray was thinking about right now. He wished he could ask. Probably thinking about Danger Force. Henry wanted to be happy for his friend, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. And sad. He gave up his whole to childhood putting villains into prison, just for some middle schoolers to take that away.

“Hen? You alright, man?” Jasper asks.

Henry takes another deep breath, but it’s shaky.

“I miss home,” Henry says, not even trying to hide his tears.

“But we are home. This is home now,” Jasper says, sounding a bit confused.

“No,” Henry whispers. “It’s not, Jasper.”

Jasper doesn’t truly understand, but he wraps his arms around Henry anyways, letting him cry. And that’s what Henry does. He cries and cries until he’s sure that there are no tears left. He doesn’t notice, but Jasper presses a soft kiss on his head. Seeing Henry sad makes Jasper a million times more upset. He can’t let it show, though. He has to stay strong. Always has to stay strong for Henry.

“Dystopia is so different,” Henry breathes.

“Tell me about it,” Jasper says with a laugh. “I like it, though. People are nice to me here. Well, when they’re not trying to fight me.” Henry chuckles softly. The sound makes Jasper smile.

“I love you, Jasper. I hope you know that,” Henry whispers into Jasper’s shoulder. Jasper prays Henry can’t feel how his heart rate speeds up at those three words.

Jasper can’t bring himself to respond, but he gently strokes the back of Henry’s hair, and Henry knows. He knows that Jasper loves him. The words don’t need to be said. Some things are just felt. And Henry swears, in that moment, he can really feel it.

[southern-belle-outcasts]

Okay I tried to do a quick scroll before I went back to work, I already walked 8mi today and it took a lot out of me but I need to do flats so it was literally just a uber fast ‘what might be important’.

I see a lot of y’all getting sick and I’ma put on my big sib hat for a moment (I’m the oldest of 9 okay I did earn that title), and also these are just good reminders in general (read: Tagg fucking take your own advice ffs). It might get a smidge lengthy so under read more.

Getting sick isn’t a moral failing, it’s literally bugs’ job to fuck with us but to help you dodge this shit since I myself have a crappy immune system and cannot fucking afford being sick (and apart from that fucky business a few months ago have mostly dodged contagious stuff in the last few years)….continue reading.

Stay hydrated. I’m fucking terrible at this with plain water in the winter because who the fuck wants to drink water that MUST be cold when you’re already struggling to stay warm right now? Not me. So add some lemon (yay vitamin C). I can’t buy fresh lemons. I forget them and they go bad. BUT the bottled stuff while it does not taste as good imo, still has the good shit. So flavor and vit c. Or add it to herbal tea! Something that isn’t monster or dark soda or coffee (yes I’m aware those are part of the major food groups I don’t care you dehydrated walking plant). Broth soups also count- chicken soup is the cure all for a reason- veggies and hydration in one!!!

Eat. Something. You can’t run on nothing. Fed is better than not, period. Eating what you can afford is doing yourself better than going hungry for the sake of those two nights of ‘healthy food’.

If you stopped masking, go back to it. No seriously don’t stop. Buy one with a print you like with the slot for a filter and wear that shit. I’m sure most of my dodging illness during the height of lockdown while being not able to isolate in high trafficked places was the masking. That and the hand washing and hand sanitizers.

Speaking of- the one brand I used to buy is a boycott but there are lotion hand sanitizers out there if you’re like me, and you can just look at hand sanitizer and your hands crack. Highly recommend. 13/10. Not going back.

Indoor clothes/outside clothes- keep your ‘been everywhere all day’ cooties off the bed and your furniture. Will also reduce allergens embedding in the places where you’re laying down. Even if you didn’t shower, you’re doing yourself a favor changing the clothes. Yes I know this is more laundry, so there’s also clothing/fabric sanitizer. It’s like 8$ for a can but that’s an option if extra laundry is a Herculean task of which I understand the trials and tribulations.

If you can afford it- get some elderberry supplement. It’s not as difficult to find as it was in 2020. Ideally you take it just regularly, in a pinch, start taking it as soon as you feel ick to lessen it.

Lots of garlic, pepper, and ginger in your food. That is all. Season your food. Good food, better immune system, no notes needed.

Here is where you’re going to laugh at me and tell me to fuck off- SLEEP. Look, I am well aware okay, I know. But even if you have insomnia like me, your body will get more rest just by laying down and closing your eyes than it will by not doing so even if you didn’t even hit light sleep let alone REM.

Okay that’s it. That’s the post. I am not going to call it no brainer stuff because all of these things I had to learn and some were definitely as an adult, so just in case nobody told you, it’s for you. If you’re adhd and forgot, this one’s also for you. I’m not claiming to be a health expert, I ain’t a doc, just an expert at trying to dodge urgent care while living in a dystopia with no health insurance and I don’t like seeing people down and feeling crappy. :D

[spindrifters]

Okay, so, continuing our discussion from ao3 comments re: Domestic Dystopia as a genre-

Mel and I compiled an incomplete list of examples from books that we had read (literally I just stared at my library for like 10 minutes this morning waiting for it to revel the secrets of the universe) and this is what we have so far:

Never Let Me Go

Nona The Ninth

House of the Scorpion- have not read this since I was 12, but I remember this being the vibe

Number the Stars- this is a holocaust book, so like, real world dystopia, and I have not read it since middle school as well, but I remember major DD vibes and liking it for this reason

The Book Thief- another WW2 book, this one is also different because of all the POVs and an omniscient narrator, but still very much counts to me. Once again I am faced with the fact that genre eludes strict definition and comes down to mostly vibes!

Avatar the Last Airbender

Maybes:

The Giver?- I think it’s been too long since I’ve read it to make a fair assessment, technically it should fit into this category but I just don’t think it does?

Enders Game?- borderline to me because all the kids in this are little prodigy geniuses and while they are still kids idk if it messes up the DD schtick. But I do feel like parts of this book give me a similar feeling to others on the list.

That’s what I’ve got so far, I’m obsessed with this concept and still feel like I’m missing an obvious example, idk, maybe it will come to me later!

Anyway, dying to know your thoughts.

Ohhhh, this is so, so good. Literally bless you and Mel.

For context to everyone else: wrt the Tedromeda prequel, we were theorizing a potential subgenre with the working title Domestic Dystopia. Pulling some choice quotes from the commentary, though the time has probably come to synthesize this into something more cohesive:

A child’s perspective is so effective as a means of exploring dystopia in a way that doesn’t feel contrived.

[...C]hildren growing up in what they consider to just be normal circumstances.... Because kids just tell it like it is. Or at least, they tell the facts as they understand them and an older reader can generally parse the subtext.

[...S]tories that introduce us to really dark world building and very adult topics like War and Death through the eyes of children... the twisty feeling when the dystopia starts to feel almost cozy and lived-in.

Given the above, I want to suggest that a central tenet of this subgenre is that through a child's perspective, the reader is actively learning the rules of the dystopia and how it's built.

I've read/seen/am at least familiar with most of the titles you've mentioned, and I think you're both bang on the money. (Unfamiliar with Enders Game and House of the Scorpion, but input from followers?) In addition, I'd like to suggest:

Noughts & Crosses - Malorie Blackman

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler

The Broken Earth Trilogy - NK Jemisin

His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (ymmv on how much this actually qualifies as dystopia but given the Magisterium's reach I think there's an argument here)

Outlawed - Anna North

Everyone, please feel free to add.

[earlgreytea68]

Hi--pronoun anon again! Thanks for the explanation about the pronoun use in your Soft Dystopia fic. World-building is so complex and I love this little detail. I looked back and the Conductor tells Patrick what Pete's pronouns are when they tell him about the request from Bureaucrat Wentz (hee!), and then the Conductor uses Patrick and Joe's pronouns when they introduce them to Bureaucrat Wentz. Patrick later refers to Pete as "he" when a messenger tells him Pete wants to see him, and that causes a stir, which makes Patrick realize he was a little too familiar about Pete with the messenger. I love that you had the Conductor tell Patrick what Pete's pronouns were because of course you couldn't count on Pete to remember to do that once he laid eyes on Patrick! Also, of course Patrick unconsciously used "him" to talk about Pete after meeting him once--they are soulmates in every universe!

I happened to listen to all of SMFSD after I finished reading this fic and it is literally a soundtrack for this story. There's something in every single song that fits: Give up what you love before it does you in...no matter what they tell you the future's up for grabs...we'll do more than just get by together...buried alive inside my dreams...I'm checking myself out forever...I'll be whatever you need me to be...the shell's empty, there's no point to any of this...I keep my feelings so tucked away...all this effort to make it look effortless...this palace was crystal but the world was a cruel joke...got the wrong insides...that's the way, the world, it used to be...ache it till you make it...

Are you sure you didn't time travel before you wrote this? ;)

I didn't time travel, but maybe Pete Wentz read my fic and wrote me some lyrics for it ;-) (I KID, I KID) (BUT YOU NEVER KNOW)

But you're right hahahah the lyrics are all so perfect and that makes me so happy, I'm going to relisten to SMFS and just think about this fic!

Also, YES, I forgot I added that moment when Patrick refers to Pete as "he" and everyone's like, ........that seems out-of-line, who are you to already be calling this bureaucrat by "he" pronouns! I loved that idea, that Patrick would use "he" because he was already thinking of Pete not as a bureaucrat but as his friend / equal / love of his life lol.

And actually I think the Conductor gives out Pete's pronoun there because he's undermining Pete a little bit, inviting inappropriate familiarity from Patrick and Joe. Of course, Patrick immediately goes for it because of how he connects with Pete and is inappropriately familiar with him right away. And you're right, I think Pete totally forgets he never told Patrick his pronouns, I think he forgets that Patrick had to meet him at all, he feels like they've known each other forever (so it makes total sense that eventually Patrick really is the first person to know everything about Pete Wentz outside of his parents).

[pyxy-styx]

1-100 you did this to yourslef

You're right, I did to this to myslef.

1. What's your middle name? Gonna change it to Parker eventually. Right now, it's the maiden name of a dead grandparent I never met and have no attachment to.

2. How old are you? 59 (18)

3. What is your birthday? October

4. What is your zodiac sign? Libra

5. What's your favorite color? Purple

6. What's your lucky number? Don't have one, if had to pick, probably 10

7. Do you have any pets. Three cats, a dog, and a bearded dragon.

8. Where are you from? Jupiter, I came to earth to rob people and ended up stuck here

9. How tall are you? At least 5' 5"

10. What shoe size are you? Good question

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Four I think?

12. What was your last dream about? Another good question. I have no idea, I only remember the really bizarre ones

13. What talents do you have? I'm fairly decent at piano when I'm actually able to play

14. Are you psychic in any way? We're gonna go with no

15. Favorite song? Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons

16. Favorite movie? Legally Blonde today

17. Who would be your ideal partner? Oh what a shame, someone played the Uno skip card and I can't answer this question

18. Do you want children? Yes and no

19. Do you want a church wedding? Only if I get to kiss a girl in front of my grandma and my dad officiates

20. Are you religious? Kind of??

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Unfortunately for my parents, yes. I am currently the not-so-proud owner of the Most Hospital Trips in Two Months award in my house

22. Have you ever gotten in trouble with the law? Got the cops called on us a few times because our downstairs neighbors, who knowingly moved into a place with kids btw, were pissed that we acted like kids and ran around a bunch

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Loads, we used to go to conventions a lot. There's pictures and autographs somewhere

24. Baths or showers? Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing? None right now but usually black

26. Have you ever been famous? Nope

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? In theory yes, but unfortunately people suck, so no

28. What type of music do you like? We rotate between multiple genres, pop and goth are the top two

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? I'm not gonna go count

31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my stomach but I can't do that without dying right now and it sucks

32. How big is your house? Please don't make me do math

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Cereal or whatever leftovers sound good

34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes, I suck at it

35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes, I suck at it

36. Favorite clean word? Dystopia, it sounds pretty

37. Favorite swear word? Damn

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without asleep? Two days

39. Do you have any scars? Yes and literally none of them have a cool story. They're all from me being clumsy

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Nope

41. Are you a good liar? Depends on who I'm talking to

42. Are you a good judge of character? Ehhhh

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? I can do a few, they're not the best though

44. Do you have a strong accent? You can tell I'm from America

45. What is your favorite accent? Probably Scottish

46. What is your personality type? Idk

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Probably the Technoblade merch

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yep

49. Are you an innie or an outie? What on earth does this mean

50. Left or right handed? Right

51. Are you scared of spiders? Only when they're touching me, they're okay otherwise

52. Favorite food? Pasta

53. Favorite foreign food? Thai coconut soup

54. Are you a clean or messy person? Both

55. Most used phrase? Probably "what the fuck"

56. Most used word? Funky

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Like five minutes, thirty if I'm doing makeup or hair

58. Do you have much of an ego? Oh yeah

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Both

60. Do you talk to yourself? Yep

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yepyep

62. Are you a good singer? I like to think so but probably not

63. Biggest fear? Drowning

64. Are you a gossip? Nope

65. Best dramatic movie you've seen? Does My Girl Count??

66. Do you like long or short hair? Short hair

67. Can you name all 50 states in America? Nope

68. Favorite school subject? English

69. Extrovert or introvert? Yes

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope

71. What makes you nervous? Everything

72. Are you scared of the dark? Yes

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I try to sometimes

74. Are you ticklish? Unfortunately

75. Have you ever started a rumor? If I have I wasn't aware of it

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Kinda

77. Have you ever drank underage? Cooking wine and shitty beer are disgusting

78. Have you ever done drugs? Yeppers

79. Who was your first real crush? I have no clue

80. How many piercings do you have? None

81. Can you roll your Rs? In my accent? No. In other accents? Yes

82. How fast can you type? Fast enough it's illegible if I'm not careful

83. How fast can you run? I have no idea

84. What color is your hair? Brown

85. What color are your eyes? Gray

86. What are you allergic to? The medicine they give you for strep throat. I'm not figuring out how to spell that shit

87. Do you keep a journal? Nope, I had to stop because my older sister kept reading my old one

88. What do your parents do? Mother dearest works at Walmart and Dad stays at home

89. Do you like your age? It's alright ig

90. What makes you angry? That is unfortunately a very long list

91. Do you like your own name? It's quite nice

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so, what are they? I have not, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it

93. Do you want a boy or girl child? I quite honestly don't care. A kid is a kid and I'm gonna love them regardless

94. What are your strengths? I'm pretty smart, I guess?? I've been told that I'm pretty good at rationalizing things

95. What are your weaknesses? I am unfortunately a very anxious person. No matter how much logic I use, I can't get over some shit

96. How did you get your name? I was named after a comic book character, my parents just gender bended the name

97. Were your ancestors royalty? I fucking hope not

98. Do you have any scars? I'd just like to point out that this is on here twice and your answer is back at 39

99. Color of your bedspread? Dark blue right now

100. Color of your room? White walls, pink carpet

[siofra-river]

⚙️🚢🗡️🤍

⚙️: see I am STILL basic and I love Spartans but the casual like. Body horror and dystopia in the marines is so interesting and feels so underdeveloped like… what are you telling me everyone has chips in they head.

🚢: does high charity count as a ship…? Such an interesting idea and place and we blew it tf up!!!

🗡️: already answered! But I’ll give a fact on gravity hammers… the only time they show up in the halo 4 campaign is on last level midnight when you’re going through the armory cortana sends you into

🤍: since I have a few I don’t count this as already answered and I’ll say. Dude I love Virgil so much. If anything happens to that funky guy I am going to go apeshit ..all huragoks are BABY!!!!

[mirrorballmika]

we’ll make it beautiful (ao3)

(or, a fic from the hero!mika x civilian!bose dystopia verse that lives solely in my brain)

There’s a certain order for nights like these. A set of steps. Step one, Bose hears Mika’s key turn in the lock and immediately turns off the TV. He gets up from the spot on the couch and stretches himself out, pretending like he’s spent the past three hours doing something other than anxiously watching the news.

Step two, he makes his way to the door as Mika unlocks the second lock. He quickly looks down at the third floorboard from the door and thinks about the gun that’s safely stashed beneath it. It’s been 189 days since he last took it out. He’s hoping they at least make it to two hundred.

Step three, he opens the door and smiles at Mika so that he doesn’t scream. That’s one of the most important things he’s learned so far. Whatever you do, however bad it is, you don’t let them see you panic.

If he’s doing a bad job at it, she doesn’t tell him.

“Evening,” she greets hoarsely, her hand pressed against her side. The mask is gone but the lines will remain until morning, cutting in around her cheekbones and into her forehead. Strands of hair stick to her face, slipping out of the tight braid she had when she left, and a heavy flannel jacket conceals most of her clothes. It doesn’t, however, conceal the white in her knuckles as she grips the doorframe, her body slumped to the left. Her smile melts off her face in seconds and her hand moves out from her chest to reach for him.

He takes it, and she all but falls against him. He catches her just in time and sucks in his breath as her body trembles against his. His arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder, he carries her inside and nudges the door closed. He does a quick survey of the area beforehand, not wanting an intruder to add to Mika’s injuries tonight.

They’re silent as they make the quick walk down the hall to their small kitchen, the lights dim and flickering overhead. He needs to get those looked at. Mika slides into a chair at the table, her sigh heavy as she gets off her feet. Bose drops a kiss on her head before heading to the cabinet. He has to wiggle it around before it opens on one hinge. He needs to get that looked at too.

He takes a quick look over his shoulder while he reaches for the first aid kit. He’s fetched it so many times he doesn’t need to actually look for it, especially not when the light barely touches it. The good news is that Mika has definitely looked worse. She’s conscious and breathing and knew who he is. All things that used to be standard but now he’s actively grateful for. The bad news is that her breathing is shallow and careful and her mouth is tight like she’s holding back a scream. The bad news is that she might be conscious but she has to make an effort to keep her head up and as he gets closer, he sees her hand shaking on the tabletop.

Tomorrow, they’ll eat breakfast at this table as if nothing happened. Striped cereal bowls and slightly-stale Count Chocoula.

“Okay,” he sighs as he pulls out the seat beside her. A bottle of water is tucked into his elbow and he wants it over to her. He puts on a smile, the one that’s designed to put people at ease. “What’s your damage, Heather?”

“Not much,” she says quietly. She gasps the moment she says it though, the sound quick and high-pitched, and her hand curls into a fist. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, her breath leaving her mouth in a slow, steady stream before she whispers “ribs”.

“Had a feeling that was the case,” he says. “Off with the shirt. Let me have a look.”

“My my, Bose O’Brien,” she teases through a mouthful of fabric. “Bet you say that to all the girls.”

He laughs, but it dies on his lips when he sees her chest. Shades of purple and black spread across her chest, weaving in and around her ribs like ivy. He waits for her nod before gently touching her skin. Heat tickles his fingertips, a worrying contrast to the iciness of her palms when she held him. Her chest moves carefully beneath his hand, like her lungs house precious china and she’s afraid to break it.

“Okay.” He breaks a cool pack from the kit over his knee and holds it against the worst area. He watches Mika’s face as it slowly begins to soften and takes it as a sign. One hand holding the pack in place, he pulls the medical tape over it twice and secures it against her. He sits back a little and breathes for half a second. Enough to stop his heart from racing, not enough to make him actually think. “Okay, what else?”

“I think that’s it,” she says. He doesn’t need to verbally respond, just raises an eyebrow and she caves. He doesn’t have time to spiral about why she keeps trying to lie to him, he’ll do that in a few hours while she’s asleep. For now, he lets her sheepishly show him her hand and forces the freak down his throat.

He has no idea how he didn’t notice when he let her in. Dimly, he realises it’s the hand she kept against her ribs and slid beneath her coat, but that only does so much. What he does know is that Mika’s middle finger sits crookedly at an unnatural angle, and as he slowly turns her hand he finds the skin shiny and bronze in colour. He, of course, hears her hissed breath and lessens his grip just enough. He looks up at her, a silent ‘what the fuck’ burning in his gaze, and her guilt is visible even in the half-light.

“It wasn’t a person,” she tells him. “I had to punch a door down.”

Somehow that doesn’t reassure him. Especially not when an old, old memory pops up and phantom pain flashes across his knuckles. He grits his teeth and gets the bandages out of the first aid kit, wrapping them around her first two fingers.

“I could have screamed it down,” she says quietly. “But…” She shrugs. She doesn’t need to finish. The scratched and cracked sound to her voice, sounding like it’s just now crawling back to her, speaks for itself.

Tomorrow night, he'll scream at himself again about how they're nineteen and they're too young for this and when did this become their life and why and when did they agree to this. But for now, there's work to be done, and he can only hold so much at one time.

They sit in silence as he wraps the bandage around her finger and carefully applies the splint to it. The only sounds in the apartment are the rain outside and Mika’s shallow breathing. She lets out a whimper as he comes close to finishing, her hand jumping onto his leg and squeezing tight. He whispers words of reassurance to her, telling her that it’s okay and she’s fine and he’s here. He doesn’t know what good it would do, to know that she has a bumbling ex-superhero who’s just barely doing his best in her corner. But it does something for her, so he’ll keep doing it.

He gives her a quick kiss before going and grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, dropping a green teabag in one and two spoonfuls of coffee in the other.

One day, he’ll investigate the relationship between his relocation to Dystopia and his late-night caffeine cravings.

A chair scrapes behind him as he watches the kettle boil, and soon two arms snake around his waist. The smile is tender as it spreads across his face, the tension in his shoulders dropping in the time it takes him to breathe. His hand comes up and rests on hers, his warm fingers sliding between her cold ones. Her smallest finger reaches down to the hem of his shirt and brushes against his bare skin. He chuckles at the sensation.

He didn’t realise you could be grateful for a sound until now.

“Aren’t you meant to be resting?” he murmurs, swaying softly. He worried, once, when it started to get bad, that he’d forget how to be playful like that. Of course, he didn’t, and while Mika won’t admit it, she’s part of the reason why.

Mika murmurs into his shirt and presses a kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t need to turn around to see the slight grin on her face that she reserves for him and only him. He feels it in her touch, her kiss, the nuzzle of her forehead against his neck.

“I am,” she whispers. “You’re my pillow.”

He laughs again, louder this time, as the kettle switches off. He fills their respective cups, and Mika only leaves him for a second to grab the sugar and the oat milk. She presses against him as he hands her the tea, a kiss on the cheek acting as thanks. Their mugs warming one hand and his free one holding hers, they walk to the couch together. They fall onto their mountain of dollar-store pillows, careful with their drinks and Mika’s ribs. His arm brushes against the cold pack and it’s almost enough to make him jump. Almost. Their legs tangle beneath the blanket, and Mika positions herself with her back against Bose’s chest. She pulls his arm around her waist and he happily obliges, kissing her head as she flips through TV channels. A movie tonight, they agree. Something cute. Something fun.

“Something happy,” Mika mutters. He wonders if she meant to say it, or if he was meant to hear it.

Here, they aren’t heroes or vigilantes or kids wondering if their best will ever be enough. Here, despite the broken bones and tired eyes, they’re still two barely adults who worry their parents with how stupidly in love they are. Outside it might be pouring rain and rolling thunder and danger lurking in shadowy corners, but inside they have blankets and hot drinks and each other, and for tonight it’s enough to put everything else to rest.

Tomorrow will be whatever, but now the fight is over, and all that stops Mika from shaking is Bose holding her tighter.

[constantviewings]

The TV Show Trials - Black Mirror

Black Mirror is a British anthology television series created by Charlie Brooker. Individual episodes explore a diversity of genres, but most are set in near-future dystopias with sci-fi technology.

Is this weeks late? Yes. Do I care? No. Is it even finished? Also, no; but I will update this as I watch what’s left. For this review I decided to switch it up a little bit, I’ve watched the majority of Black Mirror before so instead of just reviewing every episode; I’m ranking them from worst to best.

The Waldo Moment

A failed comedian who voices a popular cartoon bear named Waldo finds himself mixing in politics when TV executives want Waldo to run for office.

It’s very difficult to make audiences care about fictional, local bi-elections and this episode is definitive proof of that. This episode is a major let-down not only as a season finale but being in-between the powerhouses of White Bear and White Christmas. Overall, it’s just a bad episode...

The Entire History of You

In the near future, everyone has access to a memory implant that records everything they do, see and hear. You need never forget a face again - but is that always a good thing?

While the concept is solid, and provides the baseline of technology going forward, the episode itself is too slow to justify its 50 minute runtime. While the stakes feel high, I’m not invested enough in the relationship to feel bad at its demise. Also, I think Charlie Brookers takeaway is bullshit, he thinks it’s Liam’s fault for looking for information that will upset him and that Claire just has ‘secrets’ and ‘still loves him’… she cheated on him while they were trying to have a baby! She’s just as bad as he is.

Men Against Fire

Future soldiers Stripe and Raiman must protect frightened villagers from an infestation of vicious feral mutants.

While not boring, I don’t really care for action and war heavy narratives, the message redeems this episode a lot for me. The idea of war propaganda dehumanising the ‘enemy’ to make it easier to kill them or wish for their death is portrayed to its extreme here.

Be Right Back

After learning about a new service that lets people stay in touch with the deceased, a lonely, grieving Martha reconnects with her late lover.

Another slow episode, but this is better than The Entire History of You because it focuses solely on the relationship and the aftermath of Ash’s death. Hayley Atwell and Domhnall Gleeson absolutely kill it as Martha and Ash; but can we expect any less from them?

Arkangel

After nearly losing her daughter, a mother invests in a new technology that allows her to keep track of her.

I know this episode is pretty divisive and, while I don’t find it particularly entertaining, the concept and discussion that it prompts is worth having. Like, is the Arkangel moral, does some of the footage count as CP, if giving someone emergency contraception against their will a human rights violation? It’s just unfortunate that the discussion surrounding the episode is more entertaining than the episode itself.

Playtest

An American traveler short on cash signs up to test a revolutionary new gaming system, but soon can't tell where the hot game ends and reality begins.

I feel like my reviews are already getting bad, and we’re only six episodes deep… Anyway, this episode is pretty scary, so it does its job as the sole horror episode of the series.

Fifteen Million Merits

In a world where people's lives consist of riding exercise bikes to gain credits, Bing tries to help a woman get on to a singing competition show.

Okay, time to get a little controversial. I think this episode is good, but not great. Daniel Kaluuya is phenomenal, and you can really see how far he’s come while also retaining those trademarks of his performances; especially with his eyes. My problem mainly lies in that it’s only really entertaining in the last half; but I don’t know what I would cut to make it shorter…

Hated in the Nation

In near-future London, police detective Karin Parke, and her tech-savvy sidekick Blue, investigate a string of mysterious deaths with a sinister link to social media.

Once again, another good episode, it’s just too long. I think it’s done a massive disservice by simply being known as ‘the killer bee episode’ because it’s so much more than the bees; but not much more to impress me.

Hang the DJ

Paired up by a dating program that puts an expiration date on all relationships, Frank and Amy soon begin to question the system's logic.

This episode and the next one are pretty evenly matched, I just like this one slightly less. This is mostly because the episode lags in the middle compared to the beginning and end.

San Junipero

When Yorkie and Kelly visit San Junipero, a fun-loving beach town full of surf, sun and sex, their lives are changed.

It’s just a good episode… can you tell I’m getting sick of writing these reviews?

Nosedive

A woman desperate to boost her social media score hits the jackpot when she's invited to a swanky wedding, but the trip doesn't go as planned.

I think this episode is great, especially as the introduction to this ‘new’ phase of Black Mirror on Netflix. Bryce Dallas Howard knocks it out of the park and the concept is great; espacially because it isn’t too dissimilar to how we currently live.

Crocodile

An insurance agent investigates a minor traffic incident using a device that manifests peoples' memories, but one of her witnesses has something to hide.

This is just fucking grim, isn’t it? While this episode is insanely devistating, that’s one of the reasons I rank it so highly, especially because it isn’t afraid for it’s main character to just be an awful and selfish person with no redemption. It’s really great to see.

Black Museum

A woman enters the Black Museum, where the proprietor tells his stories relating to the artifacts.

Where this episode’s strength is in the way they tie each story to each other. It could come across as a slap-dash clip show to fill out the season but those connections in the form of Rolo Hayes takes it beyond into being a great episode.

USS Callister

Capt. Robert Daly presides over his crew with wisdom and courage. But a new recruit will soon discover nothing on this spaceship is what it seems.

I’m going to be completely honest and admit that I was dreading re-watching this episode as I didn’t like it the first time around; but I can confindently say my opinion has changed. It’s way funnier than I had remembered it and Cristin Milioti does a phenomenal job, a stand out scene being the one in the lake.

The National Anthem

Prime Minister Michael Callow faces a shocking dilemma when Princess Susannah, a much-loved member of the Royal Family, is kidnapped.

We all knew this was coming but I bet you weren’t expecting to see it in my top five, were you? I could go on for eons about how this (and the rest of my top five) perfectly encapsulate the soul of Black Mirror as commentary on technology, polotics, and interpersonal conflicts; but you don’t want to hear that, you want to hear my defence. I think this episode is the perfect episode to start the show with, it’s shocking and a bit gross but it hooks you so quickly that you can’t help but watch ‘til the end. And let’s be honest, it’s exactly how society would react to this situation...

White Bear

Victoria wakes up and cannot remember anything about her life. Everyone she encounters refuses to communicate with her, and they all seem to know something she doesn't. But what?

You don’t need me to tell you how good this episode is, the rest of the internet can do that for me...

White Christmas

Three interconnected tales of technology run amok during the Christmas season are told by two men at a remote outpost in a frozen wilderness.

This is another episode where the internet can tell you how great it is, so I want to focus on something different. Like The Entire History of You, I don’t agree with Brooker’s interpretation of the conflict, sure Joe doesn’t seem like the best guy but his partner cheated on him and had another man’s child while blocking him and refusing to work things out like an adult. And while he may be an unreliable narrator, when you don’t give me anything to hint at the reality, I’ve got no choice but to believe the narrator...

Shut Up and Dance

When withdrawn Kenny stumbles headlong into an online trap, he is quickly forced into an uneasy alliance with shifty Hector, both at the mercy of persons unknown.

I’m sure you saw this coming after seeing where I put The National Anthem... I love this episode and and the way it draws you in to care about Kenny until you start thinking ‘the video’s pretty bad, but surely it’s not wirth all this right?’ all the way up to dropping the bombshell on what he was actually doing. And, even on rewatch, that reveal still makes me unbeleivably nauseous.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #560

Top Ten Space Stations

So it turns out – get this – that we are all in the gutter but some of us are looking up at the stars, yeah? And I’ll tell you what, every time I get disappointed that it’s nearly two thousand and twenty-three but there are no lightsabers, hoverboards, or robot uprisings, I have to remind myself that right now there are humans living in space. Look up at the stars, people.

Space stations are cool. That’s all there is to it. They just rock. Strapping on your jet-powered rocket pants and Junior Birdman-ing your way out of there is one thing, but living in space? That’s the stuff of science fiction! Even if a good deal of science fiction about people living in space does also end with them dying up there. Let’s not think about that right now. We can console ourselves that, as well as being in a cyber-dystopia, we can also tick off “people living in space” on our “we’re in the future” bingo card.

So, anyway, fictional space stations – space stations in film and TV and games. That’s worth a ranking. Because the best of these are truly iconic; in terms of design and function and just how cool they are in their story. And that’s what we’re focusing on here, really; just how cool are these things? So it’s not, y’know, a power ranking or anything. It’s literally just how much do these stations rock.

But what is a space station? As usual I’ve created a bevvy of random rules for myself. A space station is not, of course, a space ship. The USS Enterprise is not Deep Space Nine, y’know? So my definition is basically a structure up in space which is more-or-less stationary, or at least in orbit around a celestial body. They shouldn’t really be shooting round the galaxy under their own steam, although a lot of these do appear to be capable of some kind of space flight. It makes sense that they’d need to be manoeuvrable to some degree, although to be honest the Death Star did give me pause as that’s one which seems to be capable of interstellar transit. At the end of the day, though, I’m confident that these fit my own criteria of “essentially static objects in space that have been created by intelligent beings”. And as you’ll see, “objects” is quite important here, as I’m really stretching the brief to include a variety of not-naturally-occurring things.

And with all those caveats in order, let’s dock. That sounded weird.

The Death Star (Star Wars, 1977): let’s face it, with the possible exception of the various Starships Enterprise, Star Wars holds the monopoly on iconic spacecraft. And the Death Star is a thing of beauty: a frankly massive spherical killing machine, its bland industrial façade broken up by the massive concave laser cannon bit. It’s a supremely intimidating, awe-inspiring thing, backed up by its hilariously on-the-nose name. The only negative, really, is whether it constitutes a space station or some kind of war craft; it’s clearly capable of hyperspace travel, but then Obi-Wan calls it a “space station”, and Grand Moff Tarkin – who you’d think would know – refers to it as a “battle station”. So I think it definitely counts; it’s not a ship, really, is it? And it must be fairly slow-moving as it takes bloody ages to drive round the other side of Yavin.

Deep Space Nine (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, 1993): the other iconic space station, from the other iconic sci-fi franchise with the word “star” in the title. DS9 is a funky-looking thing, round yet pointy, lightyears away from the sleek refinement of usual Federation structures just as the show itself is a much more complex, spikier investigation of life in that universe. Its weirdness adds to the discomfort of the cast and works as a perfect metaphor for their struggles in a messy backwater part of space. But we all grow to love it, absorbing its odd angles and idiosyncrasies, and it remains unique and compelling all these years later.

The Halo Arrays (Halo: Combat Evolved, 2001): does it count as a “space station”? It’s a man-made (well, Forerunner-made) structure in space, an artificial ringworld whose alpine aesthetic is at odds with the sleek technological innards hiding just below the surface. Another vast structure which suggests a technological capacity not far removed from magic, the various Halos are beautiful, awesome things; setting foot on one twenty years ago was a magical experience, such verdant, open landscapes uncommon in that era of gaming. Even the techie bits are nice, shimmering purple-hued walls and freaky holographic floors. Plus they all join up to make a weapon that can destroy the universe, or something. And some of them are filled with zombie plants. Those aspects are less good, to be fair.

The Citadel (Mass Effect, 2007): another great gaming space station, the Citadel is a huge floating metropolis, a beautifully-realised city of the future. Like a Halo ring, it has tripping gravity, with its verdant folding arms branching out in different directions. Also like a Halo, it was constructed by a long-forgotten super-race of Clever Aliens, who in this case left behind weird helper-things instead of, well, evil zombie plants. It’s a great hub for the game, a showcase for what was then a technological marvel, and also a brilliant piece of retro-futuristic design.

The Watchtower (Justice League, 2001): the Watchtower has existed across multiple iterations of the Justice League in various comic continuities, but I’m going to lump for the animated version here. At the core, they’re all very similar; a station that looks part giant sparkplug, part Mothership from Close Encounters. There’s a habitat ring and shuttle bays and training rooms and all sorts, and our benign overlords, the Justice League, can observe what’s going on all over the world and respond at a moment’s notice. It’s also home to one of the greatest scenes in the show’s history, when Batman launches the entire structure at a Thanagarian weapon on the planet’s surface. Always have to be the hero, don’t you?

Kimia (The Transformers, 2008): possibly the least-well-known of all these stations, this one bears a superficial resemblance to the Watchtower but is, presumably, quite a bit bigger, home as it is to quite a few Autobots. Its functional cylindrical-with-bits-stuck-on design is one thing, but really it’s what it’s for that counts: a weird, trippy, experimental research facility, birthplace of all manner of wacky Cybertronian technology and dubious weaponry. The whole base can be a laser cannon, and it served as the capital of Cybertron after the planet was nearly wiped out.

Spacedock (Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, 1984): yeah, Star Trek gets two. But the Spacedock design is iconic and prevalent throughout the franchise. Kind of like a humongous metal jellyfish in space, it’s this big bulbous thing that’s vast enough to dock several Galaxy-class starships inside it. The combination of its sleek, curved façade and the frankly humbling scale of the thing gets it on the list, as does the fact that they made dozens of these things, their design seeming to change very little for a century or more.

Babylon 5 (Babylon 5, 1993): not only is it our last, best hope for peace, but it’s also a rather striking design in its own right. A long, irregular-looking thing, like someone grew the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver to ridiculous proportions. Like DS9, it’s home to not only a hodgepodge of different races but also a long-running serial plotline that mixes a bit of grey morality and intergalactic intrigue into the normal sci-fi formula. Plus they animated the thing on an Amiga, for crying out loud.

Thunderbird 5 (Thunderbirds, 1965): what I love about this one is just how cool it looks. It’s retro-futuristic in the best possible way, because it’s what people thought looked futuristic sixty years ago; a sublime blend of far-out sci-fi concepts and nearly-there clunky realism, a dream of something only just beyond our reach. Like a flying saucer built from an old motorbike, it’s got a great rounded design with loads of funky sticky-out bits, and it looks like it mostly could work as a space station. My second favourite Thunderbird, after the big, fat ridiculousness of Thunderbird 2.

The “Russian Space Station” (Armageddon, 1998): now I said fictional space stations, but we’re blurring the lines a bit here. It’s Mir, right? It’s the old Mir space station. But presumably for legal reasons it’s only referred to as the “Russian space station” in the film. Which is not surprising, seeing as it’s explosively destroyed in a rather gratuitous fashion. What really erns it a spot, if I’m honest, is Peter Stormare as the rather spaced out lone cosmonaut. “Russian component, American component, all components made in Taiwan.” What’s not to love?

[btsmosphere]

For the drabble game thing: Yoongi x female reader, dystopia au, friends to lovers, forehead kisses. I know this whole event invites chaos, but I just really like dystopian fluff, okay?

~summary: countless nights the two of you have escaped the City to see each other. something changes tonight, but really, nothing does. ~pairing: yoongi x reader ~fluff, mild angst?, dystopia au, friends to lovers ~word count: 837 ~rating: g ~warnings: vague dystopia, but it’s just fluff :)

~a/n: thank you so much for your request!! this was so lovely to write, I feel like it made me write in a sort of different way, which I enjoyed. I don't exactly know what it is tbh, as a drabble it's just a snapshot and fleshing out the world and relationship was tough but here it is! it felt quite natural to me in the end, so I hope it makes sense to anyone else too haha

“You didn’t come yesterday.”

You whisper it into Yoongi’s shoulder, but you know he’s heard you when he sighs, a hand running through your hair.

There’s not much for your voice to get lost in. No one ever comes down here; it’s just you two and the hum of the pipes.

“I know, I’m sorry. It just wasn’t safe. I hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“Went back before the second guard. Got some sleep.”

The two of you pull apart then, Yoongi gently holding your shoulders. Even though you tried to meet as often as you could, you knew it wasn’t always possible. When the evacuation happened to the New City, Yoongi had been placed on a higher level than you, and you were forced to find a way around the enforced separation.

It hadn’t been easy. Travelling to the foundations of the City without being seen, trying to communicate with eyes on you practically all the time.

But it was worth it. You had missed your friend.

He gazes at you now with a small smile he was barely conscious of wearing.

“But I’m here now.”

A smile of your own blooming on your face, you move to sit on one of the giant pipes, Yoongi following suit.

“How have you been?”

“Alright,” he shrugs, seemingly more focussed on his finger which taps against the metal. “Lonely.”

“Me too,” you sigh, “but… you’ve met some people up there, right? Made friends?”

Tilting your head, you watch with slight concern as his tapping slows, gaze finally raising to you.

“Yeah. Still…”

His fingers are still fumbling. Shifting a little closer, you reach out to them, wrapping your own fingers around his to get his attention. His movements still at your touch. He pauses, takes a breath.

He’s nervous for something, even though you’ve been down here countless times. Spent hours in each other’s presence.

His eyes meet yours again and you’re frozen in place. The rawness shining there takes your breath away, and all of a sudden you’re sitting in your old front room sharing pizza again, while he rants about music, or the fate of the world.

“All I can think about is when I can next come back here.” His voice is rough, but he doesn’t stop, “it’s like, I can get on with people. But I don’t choose to spend time with them. All that feels real… is you.”

He pants slightly, as if those whispers have somehow stolen all the air from his lungs.

“I’ll always be here,” you whisper across the space.

You know him so well that you barely question the instincts that tell you to shift closer, lift your hand to his face. Softly, your thumb caresses his cheek.

Releasing his breath, he falls forward so your foreheads touch.

This stillness is perhaps the only place they won’t hear. Even so, his voice hardly sounds, more mist than word to what leaves his mouth.

“Sometimes I wish we could just run away.”

You swallow, willing away the same urge you know lies within you. When your eyes meet with such searing longing, you know he understands.

“You know it isn’t safe out there,” you remind him.

He sighs, climbs back from that ledge.

“I know.”

“We’ll do what we can.”

Your hand ventures higher now, carding through his hair as you drink each other in. In these moments, your world is filled with only him, his soft breathing replacing the thrum of the City far above you.

Listening to it, you’re so wrapped up that you don’t even notice your own breath slowing.

But it has, and the silence absolutely cocoons you until you’re staring into Yoongi’s eyes. So familiar, and yet, trained on you in this moment you feel as if you’ve never seen them before.

“I didn’t mean to leave you down here. I promise I’ll always come back to you.”

You feel his breath on your lips when he speaks. Although you’re not exactly sure when you got so close, you don’t want to pull away from him.

So engulfed in him, you’re hypnotised by his lips as he leans forwards, your eyes fluttering shut as they land softly on your forehead. The lingering kiss he presses there feels right. His hand cupping the back of your head, the comforting scent and the softness of his lips.

Even when he pulls back, lips still only a hair’s breadth away, he cradles your head, your body, so precious to him.

He’s staring over your head, away into the dark maze of pipes, but the thing that feels most grounding is you.

“I love you,” his voice falls into the darkness, but it came as no shock. His kiss had told you as much, the same reverence in his confession as there was in his movements.

And you understand why he was afraid. You are precious to each other; something to lose.

But sealing it like this never changed a thing.

“I know. I love you too, Yoongi.”

Thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoyed💜if anyone wants to make requests, the drabble event is still open here

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @un2-verse @taegularities 

[bonny-kookoo]

Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements

Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live

Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.

"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.

Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.

You don't want to get caught.

There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.

"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.

The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.

"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.

"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.

Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.

"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.

"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.

"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.

"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.

"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.

"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.

They really added a lot of content these days.

It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.

Not tonight.

It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.

You never left your apartment.

He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.

But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.

You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.

You had become friends.

"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.

"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.

And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.

"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.

"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.

"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.

"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.

"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.

Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.

"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.

This is what you're both good for.

Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.

This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.

The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.

"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.

"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.

"I am." He says.

"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.

But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.

"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.

"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.

"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?

"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.

"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.

"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.

"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.

You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.

He was totally not jealous of him.

"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.

"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.

Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.

His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.

His body is not cooperating.

He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.

And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.

It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.

He liked being reminded how high he lived.

And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.

He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.

It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.

To have you close.

He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.

"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.

His heart had warmed up at that.

And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.

He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.

You even laughed with him.

It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.

And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.

He was a coward-

and you deserved a hero.

"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.

It was dark.

Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.

Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.

A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.

"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.

"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.

"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."

"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"

"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.

"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.

"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.

"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.

"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.

There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.

He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.

The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.

The world was still in utter chaos.

His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.

“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.

There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.

“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.

“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”

He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.

Not even with you.

“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.

Does that mean.. that you like him back?

"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.

He couldn't stay a coward.

"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.

What just happened?

Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.

There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.

What if he hurts you?

And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.

He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.

"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.

If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.

He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.

"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.

He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.

Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.

And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.

But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.

But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.

He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.

He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.

"It doesn't hurt at all."

"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.

He's not listening that well though.

All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.

He want's to change.

And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.

Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.

Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.

You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.

Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!

But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.

"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.

The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.

Although Jungkook hated that part.

"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.

A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.

"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.

He can't just leave you.

"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.

"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.

"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.

"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.

"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.

"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.

"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.

"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.

What?

"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.

You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.

You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.

You hoped he would somehow understand you.

And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.

He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.

You didn't need words to understand each other.

The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.

"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.

You don't trust anyone but him at this point.

"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.

"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.

"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.

"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.

"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.

Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.

Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.

But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.

Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.

The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.

"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.

"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.

After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.

You were still untamed.

Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.

You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.

But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.

And you make him brave in exchange.

It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.

Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.

Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.

While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.

His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.

The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.

"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.

"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.

The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.

To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!

[worldsover]

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a  win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts. 

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧ 

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.