#since he got revived a third time so why not just make his hair white :P

[lanladesu]

white hair > black hair wiwi wisp💥💥

[hoebii]

To the moon

Pairing : JJK x Reader , PJM x Reader

Genre : Angst, fluff, college!Au

Rating : 18+

Warning : Swearing, major character death (disease), symptoms of terminal disease, talking about death, one sided love, pining 

Wc : 3.3k

A/N : Thank you @chemicalpink for being my amazing beta who helped making this fic much more than a hot mess. A huge thank you to @taegularities for making me this BEAUTIFUL banner!! I love this banner so so so much~ and @voiceswithoutlips for letting me use her name in the fic, ilysm <3 I had the idea for this fic for a while and this might be the favourite fic from what I’ve written so far so I really hope it’s good. As usual, hope you guys enjoy this one and feed back is always appreciated~

-------

Jimin could only watch from afar as Jungkook and you danced around within the crowd of people. Usually he could be found in the middle, Jimin was known to be the life of the party after all. But, he couldn’t seem to enjoy himself, not while being sober anyway. 

Downing the drink in his hand, he couldn’t help but wince a bit at the burning sensation as the liquid flowed down his throat. Slapping himself softly a few times he spoke to no one in particular, “Come on, Jimin, you got this. You’ve watched them love each other for years now, what’s one more night?”

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he pushed off the wall he was leaning against. He needed more alcohol if he wanted to survive the night without another heartbreak. Flinging the cup away nonchalantly, he strode towards the kitchen to grab another one. 

Reaching the counter, he grabbed the strongest alcohol he could find and gulped down half the bottle at one go. Would he regret it in the morning? Most definitely. But, did he care now? Not a single bit. 

“Oof, what’s got you drinking your life away?” he heard none other than Jungkook ask, seemingly appearing out of thin air beside him.

Choking on his drink, Jimin hit his chest as he placed the bottle down. Glaring at his smiling best friend, he grumbled, “Don’t scare me like that! I almost had a cardiac arrest, my good fellow.”

“My good fellow? Since when am I a ‘good fellow’?”

“You’re right. You almost gave me a heart attack, assbutt.”

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed two cups out of the stack, “Okay, Castiel. No need to get your panties in a twist now.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wearing anything underneath.”

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he bumped his shoulder with Jimin’s, “How sexy of you.”

Jimin shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he raised the bottle to his lips once again, “Very sexy of me indeed.”

“Alright alright. Stop moping about and drinking your life away and come join us! Y/N was asking where you were,” Jungkook revealed, “we need our third dumbass for the trio to be complete!”

Jimin slumped a little at the mention of you, before straightening up with his trademark flirtatious smirk. Thankful that the boy beside him didn’t notice - or if he did then didn’t comment -, “Aw, is this your way of inviting me to a threesome? Cause I’m in just so you know.” 

Head thrown back in laughter, Jungkook’s shoulders shook, “Yeah dude, we’re gonna have such a sexy time fucking in a frat house.”

“Bet.”

With that, Jimin took one last swig from the bottle before starting towards the main room, “Time to get this party started.”

-------

Jimin woke up to a pounding head with a start, covering his eyes with a hand in a futile attempt to block out the sunlight, he groaned, “Why’d I drink so much last night. Fuck you past Jimin.”

Moving to get out of the bed, he stopped dead in his tracks when he felt something, or someone, wrapping their hand around his torso. Looking down, his eyes widened like saucers as he recognised none other than Kas cuddling up to his bare chest. 

Scrambling to move away, Jimin fell off the bed with a squeak, successfully dragging the bed covers with him. 

Jerking awake, Kas groaned about her lost sleep, looking over the side of the bed to the flabbergasted man on the ground.

“If I knew this was how you started the morning, I’d never say yes to sleeping with you,” she remarked in a gruff tone.

“You- I- We-” Jimin sputtered from his spot on the ground.

“You, I, We, yeah we fucked last night,” Kas said offhandedly, rolling back to burrow into her pillow to fall asleep once more.

Clambering up, Jimin looked around the room he was in, noting that it was indeed, not his - though it was a room he wasn’t a stranger to either -. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Jimin was, put in simple words; a fuck boy. He had slept with a majority of the uni population by now. So it was safe to say Kas’s room was nothing new to him - thanks to his previous rendezvous with her. 

Though it was surprising that he was there at that moment, for he had stopped sleeping around as soon as he realised his feelings for you. Now, most people might do the opposite and excuse their actions with ‘I’m trying to get over them’ but Jimin couldn’t bring himself to do that. He didn’t find anyone else even remotely interesting enough to spend a night with besides you.

“Kas this-” Jimin started but the brunette was faster, waving her arm dismissively as she spoke, “It means nothing, I know. You’re too in love with your best friend, blah blah blah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kas huffed out a laugh, rolling over to face him from the bed, “Why’re you sorry? It’s not like we have feelings for each other.” She continued as she rolled her eyes and smirked playfully, “besides, you’re not my type anyway. I’m more into guys like Namjoon.”

Body sagging in relief, Jimin could only chuckle along as he started gathering his clothes, “You know, I could always give you his number?”

“Then what? I call him and say ‘Hey, I got your number from Jimin after a one night stand. Let’s go on a date.’?”

“I mean, technically you could.”

A moment of silence passed as the two delved into a staring contest of sorts.

“Okay, so I’m gonna go now,” Jimin drawled out, getting dressed as he inched towards the exit, “I’ll text you hyung’s number later, by the way. Do whatever you wish to with that.”

“You’re such a shady fucker, Park,” Kas said jokingly, “how you befriended someone like Namjoon is beyond me.”

With a laugh he left, “See you around, Kas.”

-------

Jimin unlocked the front door of his apartment, not caring about the noise as he was certain that his roommate was out by now.

“Welcome back, man-whore,” Jungkook greeted from his spot on the couch, eyes glued to the TV screen in front of him. 

Jimin’s body tensed instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he looked at his roommate playing video games, “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Yeah but what are you doing here now?”

“Playing video games.”

Jimin sighed exasperated, “Aren’t you usually with Y/N at this time?”

Jungkook mimicked the elder’s sigh to mock the older, “Yeah but she’s busy today.”

Processing the information, Jimin nodded his head, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright.”

-------

Steam escaped the bathroom as Jimin stepped out, drying his hair with a towel as he walked to his room. Just as he entered, he heard his phone ringing. Looking around the place, he spotted his vibrating phone at the edge of the bed where he had thrown it before going into the shower.

Grabbing the phone, he picked up the call without checking the ID, “Can you please call back? I’m on the other line with my proctologist and he’s trying to explain to me why I have a perfect ass.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

“Ah Jin-hyung! How are you?” 

“None of that. First tell me what the fuck you just said.”

Jimin snickered, moving to sit on the bed, “Don’t worry about it. I usually start calls with the weirdest thing I can think of so if it’s a scam call, they leave me alone.”

“You know,” Jin started, “if you used even half the brain power you use on shit like this while studying, you’d be one of the smartest students in your university.”

“Where’s the fun in that though?” Jimin whined, falling back to lie down, “besides, I’m already one of the top students in our batch.”

“Overconfidence will take you nowhere Park Jimin,” Jin stated.

“Lies. You’re a world renowned model, are you not?” 

“Aish, you’re such a brat.”

Giggling, Jimin switched his phone from one ear to the other, “Only for you. Now tell me how you’ve been! It’s been ages since we last spoke.”

-------

“Fuck! Taehyung focus!” Jungkook shouted into his mic as he killed another enemy, rushing to his friend’s dying avatar and quickly reviving him.

“Sorry, I was drinking some water real quick,” came Taehyung’s reply, “I thought that spot was safe for a quick sip.”

“You were literally hiding in a bush in an open field,” Jungkook deadpanned, throwing a grenade at the building he knew the enemy squad was hiding. 

“Ooh nice one,” Taehyung said as the game announced that he had killed two players with the grenade. 

“Taehyung-ah, only two more players left. If we lose then I’m gonna end you.”

-------

You hissed in pain as another rose thorn pricked one of your fingers, “I hate this so much.”

“Oh cheer up, Y/N. Gardening will never be fun if you’re such a grump!” your grandfather announced, plucking another rose and placing it in his basket.

“I wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t love you so much, grandpa.”

“I love you too, bubbles. Let’s go to that patch now! Be careful though, those have more thorns,” your grandfather beamed like a little kid on Christmas morning as he moved towards the white rose patch.

You could only groan as you dragged your feet to follow him, “Great, more thorns. Yay.”

-------

“Alright, five minutes break for getting water and shit,” Jungkook announced before taking his headphones off. 

He stood up and stretched, feeling his joints crack as he did so. Looking at the clock, he realised that he had been playing for a few hours now. 

“Damn I went so long without moving? No wonder I’m so thirsty.”

Jungkook rolled his neck, hearing some more bones cracking as he walked towards the kitchen to grab some quick snacks. Walking by Jimin’s room, he heard the older man talking to someone.

He was about to move on, having no interest in eavesdropping, when he thought he heard your name. Ignoring his brain that urged him not to listen, he moved closer to the closed door, trying to hear what was being said.

“I don’t know hyung…” he heard Jimin say, “you know how I feel about Y/N. I don’t think I can go on a date with someone else.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened. There was a pause, no doubt the person on the other line speaking before he heard Jimin speak again.

“I know I have to get over her, hyung. It’s just,” Jimin sighed, “it feels unfair for the other person, you know? Going on a date with them while I’m in love with Y/N and all.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, he barely held a gasp in as he heard Jimin. He knew that Jimin used to have feelings for you when they were younger so he made sure to ask him before pursuing a relationship with you when he caught feelings for you too. He clearly remembered Jimin telling him that he no longer had feelings for you when Jungkook had confided to him about his growing affections for you. 

Jungkook moved away from the door, shaking his head as he realised that the other man had lied back then. He had prioritised Jungkook over himself. Typical Jimin, he thought.

Not wanting to barge in on Jimin mid call, Jungkook decided that he would speak to him about it later on. With that noted in his mind, he continued his journey to the kitchen to get some snacks. 

-------

Time flew by, days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Jungkook ended up never speaking to Jimin about his conversation, too swept up with university life and finals that came banging on the door. 

It was during that time when Jungkook’s health started deteriorating. It started with him feeling nauseous even though he didn’t do or have anything that might have caused it, then came his loss of appetite. 

Every time he would brush away your and Jimin’s concerned gaze, saying it was just him overexerting himself with all his extracurricular activities and studies. What worried you the most was when he started to drastically lose weight. The once muscular and energetic boy who loved playing outdoor games slowly turned into a sickly and frail boy who no longer had enough energy to move much without getting exhausted. 

Jimin and you tried time and time again to get him to see a doctor and he time and time again waved away your concerns, always dismissing his decline in health with some sort of excuse. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when one day he started to complain about severe back pain and difficulty breathing. You had called Jimin and the two of you rushed to the hospital with the barely conscious boy.

------- 

It was a day like any other, Jimin woke up, got dressed, made some food for himself and his roommate. Checking on Jungkook in the other room as soon as he was done. 

Holding the tray of food in one hand, he knocked on the open door to announce his presence, “Hey Kook. Got your breakfast, we’re having eggs and bacon today!”

Cracking one eye open, the younger man could only give a weak smile, “Morning, hyung.”

Moving to place the tray on the bedside table, Jimin helped him sit up - placing pillows behind him against the headboard so he could lean back and be comfortable as he ate.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin asked as he sat beside the bed, grabbing the food and starting to slowly feed the other. You decided to move in with them after Jungkook got diagnosed with the last stage of pancreatic cancer last year.

Chewing on the egg, Jungkook struggled to swallow before answering, “She went to the department store to grab some stuff.”

Nodding, Jimin fed him another bite, making sure that it was small enough for him to swallow without much struggle. The two continued in comfortable silence, only the scraping of the utensils against the plate and the distant chirping of birds from outside could be heard inside the room. 

It was a beautiful day, so why did it feel as if something was wrong? Jimin could only wonder, his eyebrows furrowed in thought before he shook his head to get rid of the negative thoughts. 

After making sure that Jungkook finished the whole meal and drank enough water, he placed the tray back on the bedside table. Jimin knew that the younger would want to read something to pass the time so he got up to grab a book from his shelf, eyes scanning all the spines before finally picking one he thought the other would enjoy.

Turning, he walked back towards Jungkook and handed him the book, moving to take the tray so he could clean up. 

Before he could leave however, the younger man called his name. Turning to face him, Jimin raised an eyebrow in question, “What’s up?”

“I forgot to talk to you back then but,” Jungkook started, a coughing fit making him pause midway, “I heard you on the phone that day last year. The day after the party where you went home with Kas noona?”

Jimin’s posture straightened, his body tensing as he recalled that day. The only one he spoke to on call, as far as he could remember was Jin. 

Clearing his throat, Jimin walked back to the bed, placing the tray back on the bedside table as he sat by him, “Oh? What about it?”

“I was walking by to grab some snacks when I heard you confessing your feelings for Y/N, hyung.”

It was like someone had just punched Jimin in the throat, a gasp leaving his plump lips as his eyes widened. 

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook smiled softly, “I know you wouldn’t ever try anything. I trust you.”

Jimin didn’t know what to say, opting to grab one of his hands and softly running his thumb over it, “Kook I’m trying to get over her, I swear I am. It’s just a little difficult when you’ve loved someone for years.”

Chuckling, Jungkook placed his other hand on top of Jimin’s, “It’s fine, I don’t blame you. She’s an amazing girl, hyung. Anyone would fall for her.”

The two share a silent moment, though it was a comfortable one. None of them felt the need to speak, just enjoying the little peaceful moment they were sharing.

Jimin felt the grip on his hand tightening, the other’s face turning into one that showed discomfort, “Hyung, I don’t feel so good.”

“What are you talking about? Let me call the ambulance!” Jimin exclaimed frantically, freeing his hand from the younger’s, rushing to go grab his phone from the other room. 

Right as he was about to get up though, a hand grabbed a hold of his wrist. Halting him in his steps.

“Clam down, will you? I don’t want the last thing I see before dying is you panicking like a headless chicken.”

Swallowing back tears harshly, Jimin’s eyebrows creased in concern, “What are you talking about? How are you joking in a moment like this!”

Shaking his head, Jungkook smiled again, voice strained with the effort of him speaking through the pain and fatigue he felt, “No listen, it’s fine. Just make sure to take care of Y/N alright? She might act all tough but she’s as fragile as a flower.”

“Jungkook, please. Let me go get my phone so I can take you to the hospital,” Jimin begged, voice trembling as his eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

Ignoring his pleads, Jungkook continued with a laugh, “We always joked about how one day in the future we’d go to the moon together like in those movies. Guess that won’t be happening in this life, huh?” 

“Fuck Kook, you can! Just let me get the damn phone!” Jimin almost screamed in frustration, rapidly blinking back his tears as his hands shook.

Meeting his eyes, Jungkook only continued smiling, a peaceful look overtaking his feature, “Take her to the moon for me, alright?”

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, but this time he didn’t fight the numbness that took over him. In that moment Jungkook truly felt at peace, knowing that the two of the people he cared so much for would be alright. That they had each other when he wouldn’t be there. 

------- 

That was what you walked in on. The sight of your boyfriend lying on his bed, looking more at peace then you had seen him in the past year. You could almost smile at the seemingly happy moment but the sobbing man beside him indicated something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“What’s going on? Why’re you crying Chimmy?” You asked cautiously, still standing at the door.

Jimin’s head snapped up, his blood shot tearful eyes locking with yours, “He’s gone.”

The grocery bags that you were holding a moment ago were on the ground, the sound of glass breaking heard from inside. “What do you mean he’s gone?” You asked, lips quivering as your voice trembled.

Getting up from his seat, Jimin walked towards you, pulling you into a crushing hug as you started weeping, “You’re lying! He can’t be gone, he can’t leave me!”

Jimin could only hold you tighter, caressing the back of your head as he shushed you gently, whispering an endless string of apologies even though he couldn’t stop crying himself.  

“Please tell me this is some sort of a sick prank you two are pulling on me. Please tell me you’re joking and he’s alright,” you begged, weakly grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging at it in desperation. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, kissing you on top of your head, “Let it out, I’m here for you, moonlight. Just like I promised.”

[dsmp-shitposts]

OKAY I'm in an analysis mood so!!

Here's why "Savior" by Rise Against is such a good song about c!wilbur and c!Tommy's relationship in the dream smp!

Firstly tho I just want to give an honorable mention to the first lines of the song: "it kills me not to know this / but I've all but just forgotten / what the color of her eyes were / or the scars and how she got them." it's such a good c!bee duo line and I might have to analyze it in another post lol

(there's kinda a tldr at the bottom if you don't want to read the specific lyric analysis and just was the overall analysis!)

The lyrics I want to analyze (these are more about characterization) are: "as the telling signs of age rain down / a single tear is dropping / through the valleys of an aging face / that this world has forgotten." this is about wilburs resurrection. the first lyrics, "as the telling signs of age rain down" are about how much more different Wilbur looks to Tommy after he was resurrected. wilbur was in limbo for what he perceived to be 13 years, and he shows it physically. he has the white streak of hair that signifies his revival, and I know there's a popular headcanon that wilbur came back "wrong." "A single tear is dropping" is referring to Tommy's reaction to the revival. we know he was in disbelief and even angry at wilbur being back, but intense emotions also can bring on tears. it's a very natural response from your body. The third line is pretty much the same as the first, but "that this world has forgotten" is about wilburs impact on the history of the smp. obviously he's been a very big player in many major plot points, but since his death he has mainly faded to the background in most characters minds, especially after ghostbur's library with all the records from lmanberg got destroyed. as the smp progressed, wilbur got talked about less. focus shifted from him to dream who really emerged as the villain in the story after wilburs death. we can see the impact of this after wilburs revival. everyone on the smp had gotten used to living without him for so long, growing past the people they were when Wilbur was alive. and now when Wilbur gets revived, he expected fanfare and everyone welcoming him back, but in reality people's memory of him faded.

okay now that we have the preface lyrics, we can go into the ones that are more about tommy and Wilbur as a duo. the first ones before the chorus are "but seldom do these words ring true / when I'm constantly failing you / walls that we just can't break through / until we disappear." I'm gonna analyze this with the first two lines and the last two. the first two lines are from Tommy's perspective about him trying to constantly please wilbur. we see this with him gathering lots of stone for him and following Wilbur to stand against Las nevadas and quackity. but even with all of this, Tommy still feels like he's "constantly failing" wilbur and that he needs to do more in order to stay in high regard in Wilbur's mind. we could even look at these same lyrics from wilbur's perspective! wilbur might have felt like he's failed Tommy for not being there for him for the time he was in limbo. I know Wilbur doesn't know about what dream did to Tommy in the exile arc, but I'm betting that if/when wilbur finds out about that, he will feel horrible for not being there himself to stop dream because wilbur cares about Tommy. (this could even lead to him resenting ghostbur more because ghostbur was there but wasn't able to do anything). now with the second half of these lyrics, the "walls that we just can't break through" is referring to the emotional vulnerability, or lack thereof, between the two. I'd argue that wilbur is more emotionally vulnerable to Tommy than Tommy is to wilbur. now, there is a severe lack of communication between the two, but wilbur drops "trauma bombs" where he'll unload something all at once and suddenly. he doesn't do much internal reflection of his feelings, instead wanting to share with others, Tommy in this case, to get validation. with sharing, he wants people to agree that he's a bad person but at the same time wants them to refute those ideas so he feels like he's healing without actually doing anything. now Tommy does more introspection about his feelings (cc! Tommy monologuing) and doesn't feel as big a need as wilbur to share his feelings and trauma. and besides, Wilbur dominates the conversation most of the time anyways so Tommy wouldn't likely be able to carry a constructive conversation about his own feelings without getting talked over by wilbur.

now we're moving onto the chorus! it goes: "that's when she said / 'I don't hate you / I just want to save you / while there's still something left to save' / that's when I told her 'i love you / but I'm not the answer / for the questions that you still have.'" I see this as a conversation between Wilbur and Tommy; Tommy saying the "I don't hate you" section and Wilbur saying the "I love you" section. it's important for Tommy to make it clear to wilbur, and himself, that he doesn't hate Wilbur despite his past betrayal of lmanberg. wilbur thinks everyone hates him, so Tommy consistently sticking by his side is a reminder to Wilbur that he isn't alone. Tommy staying by wilburs side is also how he's ensuring that wilbur doesn't spiral again ("I just want to save you"). he knows that wilbur still isn't in the best mental place, not having the right environment to heal in limbo, so it's more crucial in his mind to be wilbur's crutch right now because it'd be very easy for wilbur to spiral again ("while there's still something left to save"). wilbur, with his part of the lyrics, wants to ensure that Tommy knows he still cares about him despite being gone for a long time. now for the last part of wilburs lyrics, I would love for it to mean that "wilbur understands that he can't be a good mentor to Tommy anymore because of everything that happened. he wants Tommy to realize that he does care for him but their relationship shouldn't function with Wilbur as a mentor anymore," but that wouldn't be accurate to their canon relationship. wilbur still wants to be Tommy's mentor because that's how their relationship has always functioned. my hope is that in wilbur's healing process that he realizes he doesn't have to be a mentor to Tommy, they can just exist as friends. and I would love for Tommy to realize that it's not his job to save Wilbur! while having friends you can talk about your emotions with is good, he shouldn't have to push his own feelings aside to prioritize wilbur's. wilbur also needs to learn that self reflection is a part of healing

the final specific lyrics I want to analyze are: "one thousand miles away / there's nothing left to say / but so much left that I don't know / we never had a choice / this world is too much noise / it takes me under once again." the first three lines, in my opinion, all relate to the fact that Tommy had gone through so much while wilbur was dead, such has dream's manipulation. the last three lines of this section, which are honestly my favorites, are relating to both of their revivals. even though wilbur and Tommy have developed so differently since the lmanberg and pogtopia eras, they have this one thing in common. Tommy didn't have a choice in his death or resurrection. both were committed by dream and have contributed to the massive amount of trauma and PTSD that Tommy has. wilburs death was practically by his own hand as it was an assisted suicide, but his resurrection wasn't his choice, again done by dream murdering ghostbur. that line could also refer to wilbur not feeling like he had a choice in living anymore, feeling like death was the only option for him at the end of his spiral. the last two lines refer to the mental problems that both Wilbur and Tommy are still facing. we talked about wilburs a bit with his need for validation and him villainizing himself in his mind. Tommy still struggles with suicidal ideation, seen most recently with his comments while on the balcony in Las nevadas. he also struggles with his triggers from the final control room and the prison that we see him try and speedrun exposure therapy for. what I'm trying to get at with this is that wilbur and Tommy have developed so differently while away from each other but they have their resurrections in common.

OKAY CONCLUSION TIME!! (also kindof a tldr)

while Tommy and wilbur have been apart from each other for a while and developed in different ways, their relationship after both of them have been revived is centered around both of their relationships to healing from their trauma. Tommy feels like he's the one who has to "save" wilbur and keep him from spiraling again, letting his own feelings be pushed aside to prioritize wilbur's. wilbur lets himself be the saved to Tommy's savior. he consistently seeks out validation for his own feelings instead of taking the time to sort out how he really feels about the things that have happened to him.

if you read this far then oh wow thank you!! I hope this made sense and I'd love to hear what you think of the comparisons to this song!

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately,  the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away,  so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively:  the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal.  If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 2,169

Chapter Content Warnings: swearing, c!Wilbur’s current mental state

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur is resurrected, finds himself alone in a forest, and very much objects to this whole concept.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

Chapter One: soldier, keep on

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

It is an ugly thing, reviving like this. His body does not remember what it is to live. The sensations are overwhelming: the ground beneath him, cold and wet, the freezing air against his skin, the force of gravity that keeps him pinned down. It takes a moment for him to recall how to breathe, to even recall that he needs to do so at all, after that first instinctive inhalation. His lungs are burning, and fear washes over him, builds within him—but the memory comes. His lungs inflate. Deflate. Too quickly, at first, too shallowly, but he falls into a rhythm soon enough.

Breathing. He is breathing. He is alive. His fingers curl into the grass, the slick dirt, and he shudders at the feeling. He thinks he might shake apart right here, right now, shake apart and back to death again.

He doesn’t want to be here.

His mind is fuzzy, whirling, confused, and his thoughts are so much scattered snow, but this much he knows. He does not want to be alive, does not want to be here, does not want this—

But since when has he had a choice in the matter?

Sitting up is slow. Strange. It takes more effort than it should, and it sets his head to spinning as he blinks the water from his eyes. His vision clears enough to see where he is: a forest, not too dense, the trees sparsely placed. He is sitting beneath one, and as if to reward the realization, the leaves jerk in a sudden wind, dumping several large drops of water on his head. He frowns up at them, and at the grey sky beyond. And then has to look down again—there is more rain in his eyes, and the sting of it is unpleasant, too sharp. Every sensation feels like too much, too present and too raw and too close.

He should stand, he thinks. But he stares at his legs, and wonders if they will hold his weight. They don’t look as if they will. They are shaking. His whole body is shaking, shaking apart and back to—

(you could only be so lucky)

He stands. He lurches to the side, at first, has to grip the tree for balance as his legs adjust to holding him up. His head pounds, spins, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of vertigo.

And then opens them.

The laughter comes unbidden, welling up from somewhere dark, somewhere despairing. It echoes in his ears until it’s all that he can hear, all that he knows, curling around him, manic and wild. It is a villain’s laugh. A villain’s laugh for a villain, a villain with blood caking his hands and madness pressing on the edges of his mind

(is it progress, that he can recognize it now?)

(but is it madness? or is it just him? what is real, the brother that he used to be, or the shattered, destructive thing that he became? can he blame his actions on madness when he enjoyed every moment?)

and now a heart pumping in his chest, alive, alive, alive. Alive, when he never wanted it, when he explicitly told Tommy not to—

Not to what? To bring him back? Tommy wanted him, but Dream is the one with the power, or so Tommy said. Dream, alive just like him, when he has no right to be. A villain just like him, but not, but worse

(who do you think you’re fooling? how much of Tommy’s pain can be laid at your feet?)

for all that he’s done. To Tommy, to everyone on the server, even to those who once counted him as a friend.

(He was one, wasn’t he? In the early days, in the peaceful days, before the war? They were all friends, then, when Dream invited them to his world, invited them to make a home and to stay, and he really thought that he could settle here, with his little brother and with everyone else. He was friends with Dream, then.)

(The war was a game, in the beginning. He can’t pinpoint the moment when that changed.)

And perhaps Tommy forced the issue, forced the resurrection. But Dream still made the choice to do it. In the end, he is back at Dream’s behest and at no one else’s, and anger stirs in him, that he is in any way beholden to that bastard, to the asshole who caused so much pain, so much suffering, who tormented and abused his little brother

(but you did the same, don’t forget)

to the point of—

He is not Ghostbur. Not in any way that matters, just like Ghostbur wasn’t truly him. But he remembers what Ghostbur knew, more or less, and more than that, he understands in a way that Ghostbur was never capable of. In a way, part of him envies Ghostbur his naivety. Most of him doesn’t, though, isn’t capable of anything more than a vague disgust at best. Naivety helps no one, does nothing. The naive either learn better, or they die. That’s the way the world works, has always been the way that the world works.

The point is, he has perspective that Ghostbur didn’t. He knows what Dream did. What he’ll do again, if given the chance, and he will have that chance. Tommy’s decision to spare him has guaranteed as much. Even the most inescapable prison cannot hold someone like Dream forever.

He forms a fist. Punches the tree. It smarts, and finally, here is a sensation that does not overwhelm him, that is almost comforting in its familiarity, that clears his head and allows him to focus. There is solid ground beneath his feet and water dripping from his soaked hair onto his face. He is in a forest that he doesn’t recognize. His heart beats in his chest.

Alive, alive, alive.

“What the fuck have you done?” he murmurs, and his voice is a broken, frayed thing. Unsurprisingly, he receives no answer, and his mind is left to invent them, each more terrible than the last.

This much is clear, though, he needs to

(find his family)

(see Dream dead)

(blow them all to hell and back because why not, what more is there to lose)

(run run run as far and as fast as possible)

get to Tommy? Get to Tommy. Yes. That’s the first step. Get to Tommy, shake the life out of him until he owns up to whatever the hell he was thinking with this. Learn more about how he defeated Dream in the first place, because surely that will be relevant information, because surely the second step will be to kill Dream. He’s too dangerous to be kept alive, and he’s outlived his use anyway.

If Tommy truly spared him just so that he would… resurrect Wilbur, well. He’s served his purpose. There’s no reason to keep him breathing.

Even if—

Well.

He’ll think about it when the time comes.

(he doesn’t want to be here, please, let him rest, let him be free)

For now, he is here, and he has a goal, has a plan. So he takes his first step forward, and finds walking easier than he expected. His muscles seem to remember how to do it, now, and his strides grow longer and longer until he is a hair’s breadth away from running, sprinting through the trees, and his legs begin to burn, and it is a good burn, a burn that comes from simple exertion, from the revolutionary act of living, and the rain pours down and giddiness fills him, if just for a moment. If just for a moment, he thinks that perhaps this might not be such a bad thing after all.

If just for a moment.

He breaks through the tree line. And stops.

He knows where he is.

He hadn’t realized before, how cold it was. Or rather, he realized it distantly, in the manner of things that don’t quite effect him, that he acknowledges but doesn’t have to think on. But it does effect him, and as his adrenaline wears off, chills run across his body, his skin erupting in gooseflesh. He’s not dressed for this climate, is wearing the same clothes he died in, the white shirt and the trenchcoat that does little in the way of providing warmth.

But he knows where he is.

Or rather, Ghostbur did, so now he does. There is snow in the distance, about a twenty minute walk, perhaps. The border of the tundra. From there, it isn’t far to Techno’s base. Another half hour on foot, if the weather isn’t too bad.

Techno.

He hadn’t even thought to go see him. Hadn’t spared a thought for his other brother, or for his father, who he knows is staying with him. But they are so close, right there, and his objective is to get to Tommy, but

(he wants to see them, wants them so bad, wants his brother’s protective glare and his father’s warm embrace)

he doesn’t know where Tommy is, does he? He has a general idea, but no more than that, and even besides, he doesn’t know anything about the current politics of the server, other than the fact that Dream is locked away. Who does that leave in charge, if anyone? Who is on whose side? What sides are left at all?

He needs more information. Techno isn’t likely to be in the loop, all things considered, but even a little bit of intelligence would be better than no intelligence at all. And he’s closer. A warm house sounds very nice right now.

He considers his objectives, and makes a mental readjustment. Tommy can be second, Dream third. That’s fine. Techno first.

If, that is, Techno allows him in. If he doesn’t slam the door on his face. If he doesn’t kill him again. He liked Ghostbur, Wilbur thinks, but Ghostbur was Ghostbur, and he is himself, and he doesn’t know where they stood with each other, by the end. Doesn’t know whether Techno will be glad to see him at all. That shouldn’t matter to him, though. It shouldn’t matter at all what Techno thinks of him,

(even if something in him balks at the idea that Techno might hate him, that Techno, his brother who he has protected and pestered in equal measure, who has done the same for him since the day Phil took his hand and brought him home and said to the piglin hybrid waiting at the door, Techno, this is your new brother Wilbur, please don’t kill each other)

since he has his goals, and those are what’s important. So really, if Techno turns him away, he’s no worse off, if a little colder and wetter. He goes back to the original plan of getting to Tommy, killing Dream. In that order.

Right. Right.  

This will work.

It will be several hours of walking through the cold. Best to start now. So he does, walking at a steady pace, aiming for the snow, and—

Something blue.

Something blue flashes in the corner of his eye, and he freezes, wheels around, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes dart around, but there is nothing there, nothing that he can see. No movement in the trees behind him. No movement in the grass around him. No movement in the snowy climate ahead. No movement, but then, that doesn’t mean that nothing is there, that he didn’t see anything at all,

(because it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you)

and he’s certain that he did. That he saw blue.

Blue has strange connotations for him, now. He’s not Ghostbur. But Ghostbur’s memories linger.

“Who’s there?” he calls out, and is proud of the way his voice holds steady. There is no reply, and still no movement. “You can come out, if you want to talk. I’m unarmed,” he adds, and immediately regrets it. If there is someone there, there is a good likelihood that they mean him harm. He didn’t exactly… leave on a good note, and advertising his lack of a weapon to someone who might very well want to kill him is not a good idea.

But nothing happens either way. No one steps out from behind a tree to talk. No one jumps out and tries to stab him. He waits for a few minutes before admitting defeat and turning back to his path.

Perhaps he imagined it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him.

(but he didn’t, he knows he didn’t, and he’s pretty sure that there’s something he’s forgetting)

He’ll be alert. Careful. Watchful. It’s all he can do at this point.

So, with a heart beating in his chest and lungs that breathe and feet that touch the ground, Wilbur goes off to find his brother.

---------

As a note, I’m new to writing for this fandom, so while I don’t have a taglist for it yet, I’m happy to make one if anyone would like, so feel free to ask!

[anotherfacelessauthor]

Sirius’ new style - excerpt from By The Moon

Year 5

September, 1975

Remus Lupin was already sitting down in the compartment, legs tucked into his chest, eyes glued to the most recent escapist novel he’d found over the summer, when he heard the door open. As Sirius Black walked in, sporting a leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans, and a black eye, Remus thought he’d forgotten how to breathe.

He looked more confident than ever (not that confidence was anything Sirius had ever lacked) and casually leaned against the doorframe, a few cheap silver necklaces swaying around his neck. He could hear the faint click as they rattled against each other. Remus got the strange urge to take his picture—capture the moment before it was over and could leave his mind forever. He also wanted to submit to new, surprisingly strong impulses, screaming at him to reach out and grab the jewelry in his hand, pull the other boy into a fierce kiss—“‘Sup Moony?” Sirius asked innocently, as if nothing had changed since they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express a few months prior.

“Sirius! You’ve—uh… changed,” was all Remus could spit out, mentally banging his head against the wall. You’ve changed? That’s all you’ve got? Your best mate got really fuckin’ hot over the summer and all you can say is you’ve changed?

But Sirius laughed it off, brushing a hand through his long hair. His nails had chipped black paint and a few shiny rings were scattered—one on his thumb, two on his ring finger, one in the middle—“Yeah, I switched up my style a bit haven’t I? Had a new friend help me out with that. D’you like it?” His demeanor shifted just slightly, from completely carefree, to a bit more interested. Remus barely noticed.

Like it? Bloody hell—wear that everyday and I’ll never focus in lessons again—

“Looks good, yeah." Remus swallowed. "More you.” He paused, wondering if he should address… “What happened to your eye?”

Sirius looked confused for a second, as if he’d completely forgotten about the giant bruise covering half his face, “Oh, this old thing? Nothing special, just—”

But Remus had stood up to get a closer look, revealing just how much taller he’d gotten over the summer and the rest of Sirius’ sentence stuck in his throat.

“Bloody hell Moony, you’ve grown!” Sirius exclaimed, stumbling back and looking Remus up and down, trying to swallow back all the thoughts that had been swimming in his head all summer. Sirius tried, and failed, to hide the shock as he bumped up against the sliding glass doors of the compartment. He couldn't look away. Remus looked effortlessly cool, sweater and jean jacket and another book hanging loosely, forgotten in his hands. The soft curls, the familiar freckles, the healing scars—Sirius felt warmth rising in his cheeks. Who’s that one person that feels like home… who holds your world in the palm of their hand without either of you noticing? He shook off the memory like a dog shaking off water and sat down.

Not a problem for today.

Before the moment could turn awkward, the last two Marauders showed up, babbling about their summers and how James was back and better than ever, ready to win over Lily Evans.

“Merlin, James, are you ever going to give it a rest?” Remus joked, turning away from Sirius to avoid staring. He felt himself falling back into the mess of yearning and want that had consumed him in third year, and Remus was desperately trying to claw himself out. With the OWLs coming up, he had no time for hopeless pining. Plus, he was still curious about the black eye but figured if Sirius didn’t tell him alone, he certainly wouldn’t be more willing to do so in front of the others.

***

Something that took both Sirius and Remus by surprise on the train ride was the astonishing number of girls who stopped by the Marauder's compartment to wave at Sirius, and giggle when he waved back, running a casual hand through his hair.

It was only after the fifth group passed by, a couple of Ravenclaw fourth years, that James asked, “Oi, Pads. How’re you doing that?” He paused, “And d’ya think it’d work on Evans?”

Sirius just shrugged, “I’m not doing anything. Just my natural charm—plus I got better looking over the summer. It’s a shame it didn’t happen to you—” he was cut off by James’ fist knocking into his shoulders, right on one of the healing bruises, causing Sirius to take in a sharp breath. He tried to play it off, knocking James right back, avoiding Remus’ eyes, but he could tell he’d noticed.

Lily stopped by as they were still touselling—to the excitement of James, who immediately straightened up and ruffled his hair, and the second hand excitement of Peter—but she barely acknowledged them, turning instead towards Remus.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the compartment door. “What are you doing?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Prefects are meeting in our carriage in five minutes, c’mon get changed!”

“Oh shit—” Remus began rummaging through his things frantically.

The other boys sat back in astonishment. Peter was the first to speak, “No.”

“You’re saying—”

“Our Moony—”

“A prefect?!”

Remus dug out a shiny badge, and the compartment exploded once more.

“How dare you—”

“Why didn’t you tell us!”

“Does this mean you can take points away from Severus when he’s being a blood-purist prat—” James turned around to face Lily awkwardly, “Sorry.” He looked back at Remus and whispered, “But does it?”

Remus sighed, still digging around for his robes. “Yes, I’m a prefect, I got the letter over the summer. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this, and no, James, I will not be taking away points from Slytherin unless someone actually breaks a rule.”

“Damn. Guess that’s why Dumbledore made you prefect over me.”

“Yeah,” Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes, “that was the only reason why.”

Remus stumbled out of the compartment, pulling on his robes and pinning his prefect badge to his chest. He and Lily were halfway down the corridor when Sirius came running out. Remus tried not to think about how perfect he looked, hair flowing as he jogged.

“Rem!” He held up a red and gold tie, and Remus looked down, realizing he didn’t have his. His cheeks flushed red.

“Oh, thanks,” he said as Sirius caught up with them, panting slightly. “I, uh—”

“Yeah, you can’t tie a tie quickly Moony, I know. We’ve lived in the same dormitory for four years now.” Sirius stepped forward and began wrapping the fabric around Remus’ neck and popped up the collar on his white shirt, having to reach up slightly now that Remus stood almost a head taller than him. Remus was hyper aware of how very close to him Sirius was standing, feeling every brush of his soft hands, cold rings against the nape of his neck sending a new swarm of butterflies.

Lily stifled a giggle while Sirius’ hands flew, “You’re a prefect and you can’t tie a tie?”

“I can! It just… takes a few tries to get it right.”

Sirius tightened the knot, laying the tie flat and tucking it into Remus’ sweater. Remus hoped he couldn’t feel his heartbeat racing. It was so loud in his own ears he could hardly hear anything else. “There you go!” He adjusted it once more, laying the collar flat. “Good luck in there. Don’t let them turn you into a goody-two shoes prat—no offense Lily—”

“None taken.”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Got it?”

Remus held his hands up in surrender, feeling like he was going to burn up if Sirius stayed that close to him, just a breath away, for even a moment longer. “Got it, Pads.”

They stood there for half a second before Lily tugged Remus away, saying, “C’mon Remus, we’re gonna be late,” but it felt like ages. Remus, looking into Sirius’ stormy grey eyes, which were so intently fixed on him, as if he were everything that mattered in that moment. Remus shook his head, trying to erase the shock. He was making things up again, feeding into a third year fantasy of a Sirius Black who liked him back, and now Lily was dragging him toward the prefect’s compartment.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Lily whispered, pulling on his sleeve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.” Remus tried to keep his emotions concealed, his face stony.

“You don’t still like him, do you?” When he didn’t respond, she squealed with delight, “Oh you do! This is so exciting! Who’s gonna—”

“Lil, please don’t do this. I don’t wanna get my hopes up all over again. He’s not even gay! And he doesn’t know I’m—”

“You haven’t told them?”

Remus scratched his neck awkwardly, “Well, I was gonna get to it… and then I just—” but before he had to make up some lame excuse as to why he hadn’t come out to his three closest friends, the pair reached the door to the prefect’s carriage and hurried in.

Remus barely listened the whole train ride. The Head Boy droned on and on about ‘personal responsibility’ and ‘being model students’ and some other shit about the prefects’ duties which had already been listed in the letter sent over the summer.

He tried not to think about Sirius Black and his new clothes and long hair and black eye, but it was useless. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment Sirius had come into the compartment over and over again in his mind, and the way Sirius had stayed so close to him, even after finishing tying his tie. What he really tried not to do, and somehow managed to do (for the most part) was think about holding Sirius’ hand, or kissing Sirius’ lips and neck and-

Hello! The sensible voice in Remus’ voice screamed in protest. He’s still your best mate and this little crush reviving doesn’t change that.  

So Remus tried to listen to the Head Girl who was now discussing the amenities that were only accessible to prefects. He figured this could at least be a bit useful at some point this year.

***

Continue reading on Ao3

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part Seven

~sweet home~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language

words: 4.7k

summary:  Home is where your bros at right? right.

a/n: I actually like this chapter, shocker. i hope you enjoy 

ao3

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

Minho stared at the video file sitting on his computer, on the familiar application site that had been haunting his mind for the past couple years. The debate he found himself in with himself on whether or not to submit another application, had become his default subject of thought for much of the past few weeks. All building up to right now. Something had tipped the scale though. Something that reminded him if he didn't submit an entry this year, that he might as well have given up on his one dream. His one goal. The only thing that had been keeping him motivated through university. So once again he found himself rationalizing, and knew that if anything he had to try, at least just one last time. 

Upload complete, Thank you for your entry!

Minho sighed loudly. He had sent it in. The first part of the application. It was just a basic dance routine supplied by the academy. He had practice and recorded it all within one sitting. Having been a part of a dance crew for much of the past year had allowed him to quickly pick up choreography and perfect it. The other reason being that he wanted more than anything to get the overbearing presence of the audition tape out of his head space as soon as possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he laid back down on the studio floor, not too long after a ping of his phone revived just enough for him to check his messages.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

2:50 pm

Minho-hyung!

I hope your day has been going well~

Sadly, no updates on when ill be free :/ 

They’re working us hard for the debut

It’s alright Ji, work hard!

You better be taking care of yourself tho...

4:03 pm (new)

Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)

{link attached}

I hope you like it!!!!

Oh, no i havent

I’ll give it a listen ^-^

As of late it wasn’t uncommon for Jisung to send the older songs he thought he would like. Always saying some cheesy line that was so blatantly sweet it made Minho flustered everytime. This time of course was no exception. 

Ping.

HYUNG THAT EMOJI

Asjdnjsfma

I knew I was rubbin goffon you 

Kkkkk

Dont get too ahead of yourself 

atleast I can still type coherent sentences

~goffon~ 

Boo :p

Why Jisung was so persistent about sending him songs was lost on the older, but it was a sweet reminder that someone was thinking about him. It had been a while since Minho had even imagined that someone took a few minutes of their day to actually consider how he was doing. It didn't quite make sense to him that suddenly out of nowhere, there was his boy, man, person, who purposefully took the time to dedicate brain cells to his existence. Wild. 

Minho hurriedly clicked the link to the song that Jisung had sent. It was an upbeat song, with a strong but subtle strumming of a guitar to keep the song’s pace just quick enough to be comfortable. “There's no one else that could ever hold me like you do.” The lyrics were in the realm of positive longing and companionship, but the dips into minor chords and tone of the singer created a mood of desperation. More than anything, the song brought forth a story to Minho. One that he could see with his eyes close and feel his body wanting to move to. 

A smile stretched across his face, as he rose from his spot on the floor, dusting off the dull ache and pressure in his shoulders from having just finished a routine not even 10 minutes ago. 

“But I know that I'd be crazy, Not to wanna be the one to keep you up all night”

Woah there Jisung, at least take me out to dinner first. He made a mental note to tease the younger later about his “Made me think of you :)” line later. Already stretching and drawing a plan in his head, Minho took his phone and saved the song, pressing the repeat button twice, to allow the guitar chords and chorus harmonies to carry on endlessly. A smirk stretched into an excited smile. Not wanting to jinx himself, a shy “finally” was whispered in the back of Minho’s mind at the surge of inspiration, but not spoken aloud just yet.

---

Flashing lights, heavy makeup, hot clothing, and too much fog from the smoke machine is all Jisung had thought about for the last couple hours. 3RAHCHA was in their last photo shoot for their debut. The concept photos would be released later through the week, slowly revealing the three members and their group as officially signed with JJP ent. 

The multicolor lights had been running through his vision for so long that as soon as he walked into their Green Room, he had almost forgotten what color everything actually was. Looking in the mirror he saw the blonde highlighted streaks in his hair had settled nicely, slightly slicked back. The stylist had surely done their jobs well. Painting the three rappers up to look less like the nightcrawlers they were, and into something that leather and fishnet clad superstars might look like was definitely a challenge. Jisung had his makeup done just enough to give his eyes a smoky look to them, and grey contacts to emphasize his gaze. The ensemble he had on looked like something that had come straight from a catwalk. Fishnets crawling up his arms from his gloved hands and an asymmetrical shit he for sure would not have been able to put on without the help of his stylist-noona. All that plus some leather pants and combat boots, he definitely looked more like his persona J.One than the notorious hoodie clad couch potato named Jisung he usually found himself as. 

Having just finished his own solo shoot, he signaled Changbin to head on to the set as he returned. The older nodded from his chair in front of the makeup station, as the artist finished the final touches to his eyeliner. Jisung watched as the shorter rapper walked out to the set in a white puffer jacket that he somehow pulled off, even with the bright red pants he wore. A part of Jisung was thankful his stylist hadn’t taken that many liberties with his outfit, but the makeup and outfit Changbin wore really only emphasized his intimidating stare and the wideness of his shoulders. It was undeniable that their concept photos would come out well. 

Chan, who was seated on a couch, eating some of the provided sandwiches, was already hunched over his computer and mixing equipment again, airpods in. Probably working on tracks for their third comeback knowing him. Not wanting to jump right back into work Jisung snagged a few snacks from the buffet and found a chair he could lay on. Listening to music that wasn't work had become a rarity for Jisung in the years he had been with 3RACHA. Of course he always tried to stay on top of the recent pop and hip hop trends, but straying any farther than his trusty morning and workout playlists was more than unlikely. 

Lately though, Jisung found himself looking through a lot of random indie, alternative, “western” pop, and especially dance music. The versatility of the genres was comforting to Jisung in the rather turbulent state his emotions and mental state have been in, as the debut approached. Also Minho. Meeting Minho definitely had introduced a whole new set of feelings Jisung was still working on navigating. As he listened to the different songs that populated this radio, he told himself he was just looking for some inspiration for his lyrics and 3RACHA’s new music, but even he knew that was mostly a lie. 

Ever since that night at the bar with Minho he found himself always considering the older and what he would think of a song or how he would dance to it, or if he would even like it. After pointing out that he liked a particularly upbeat pop song with melancholic lyrics, during their impromptu karaoke session, Jisung had been delvinging into all related categories to find songs he thought the older might enjoy. He wanted more than anything to inspire his older companion? Partner? (that was a later Jisung question.) but he wanted to repay the man who had allowed him to get out of his creative slump. That night, as soon as the youngest rapper had returned to the 3RACHA “house” he felt the start of at least 5 separate tracks and choruses appear in his brain. His two hyungs jumped into action along with him as Jisung desperately tried to write and record everything that was jumping out of his brain at once. 

Jisung remembered Chan’s smile and encouraging words as he fitted a few of his new verses to songs they had previously put on the shelf. After finding a particularly emotional but upbeat song he immediately wanted to send it to Minho. He always got hung up on what to say with the link. Other than the thought vomit that occurred every time he chooses to send him a potentially good song: “Found this song? U Like???” No Jisung, what are you five?? “I think you will enjoy this song. Please give it a listen? :0” No that just sounds desperate. 

“You doing alright there Ji, I can hear you sighing through my earbuds?” Chan peeked out from under his styled bangs with a raised eyebrow, sending Jisung into a red embarrassed mess that he had been caught. He hoped his layers of foundation would cover it up. 

“Yeah fine fine, don't worry. I’m FINE.” Attempting to hide Jisung curled up tighter into his arm chair. Just be casual Jisung it's a song not a marriage proposal dear god. “Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)” Good, yes fine. Send.

Minho responded immediately and cutely with an emoji that made his heart jump a little. Minho would respond always with a variation of a “Thanks! I’ll go listen”, but Jisung had yet to receive any confirmation that the older actually enjoyed the links he sent, much less had found some inspiration in them. At this point the only thing he could do was hope. He wanted nothing more than Minho to be smiling because of him.

--

Officially exhausted, it wasn’t until late when the 3RACHA boys had finally made it back to their apartment. The day Jisung had, had been anything but short. Almost collapsing immediately on the couch. Sana notified them that she had already ordered food to be delivered for dinner and that they should go to bed as soon as they had finished eating. Chan looked like he was about to pass out on the couch before the food even arrived, which was more than likely at this point. After their shoot they were immediately sent to a few other meetings laying out their marketing and schedule plans for the upcoming weeks. Although glad they were able to part with their artistic and career decisions with their company, it did add a lot of work and responsibilities to the trio. 

Jisung’s phone had died somewhere after meeting 3 of 5 and he had submitted to having to carry the lifeless brick with him anyway. Not ideal for his wandering mind and anxiety that comes with a few too many stressful meetings. Once finally arriving home he went and plugged his phone in at the charger on the kitchen counter. Lighting up with notification buzzes as it rebooted back to life. 

[ 5 new messages from Lee Minho hyungie]

Immediately cursing himself internally for not bringing his charger with him, he opened his messages from Minho ignoring all others. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

5:45 pm

Hey Jisungie, just finished up practice!

Actually may or may not have danced to the song u sent…

Maybe I’ll show you some day hehehehehehehehe ;)

7:21 pm

Han Jisung, did you forget your charger again >:/ 

Well I’m off to my late shift, I hope you have a good night~

Jisung always found himself smiling at Minho’s before work texts. They were always so cute. Either some sort of sweet well wishing or some other Minho-esque goodbye, along the lines of “don’t die mysteriously while i'm gone ;p” or “Have a good night, try not to miss my WONDERFUL company too much <3”. (The hearts always made Jisung grin hard, even if they were sarcastic)

This night though, Jisung found him almost jumping in victory at Minho’s text. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

12:35 am

YOU DANCED TO THE SONG

Really?!?!?!

What did you like about it? 

When can I see????

You better not leave me on read after work!

Jisung tried to imagine what kind of dance Minho would do to the track he sent,and suddenly found himself flush at the thought of watching the other dance. Somehow, watching Minho dance, felt more intimate than any other situation that they’ve shared. Thankfully Minho seemed to want to hold off, so at least of the time being Jisung’s heart was safe. The exhaustion and stress from the day faded ever so slightly as soon as he thought of Minho with coordinating blush to match. 

Jisung you lovestruck fool.

“Jisung! Food’s here!!! If you don't hurry Chan’ll eat your portion again.”

“HEY! It was one time.” Laughter filled the apartment gently as they all respectively fought gravity to get up and make their way to collect the food from the delivery man.  

---

Minho tore up the stairs and through their apartment door as quickly as he could without spilling the carry out food he had in his arms. The clock was ticking a little past midnight and fear set in that the older would miss their planned celebrations. 

Bursting through the door, “Did I beat him?!” The oldest was frazzled from rushing in order to beat their third roommate home from work.

“Barely! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, with having to bring the carry out.” Hyunjin’s sigh of relief was visible throughout the boy's now relaxed body. He had spent the last ten minutes hoping that they would still be able to pull off their surprise party for the youngest. Pacing around and failing to come up with any backup plans if Minho had been later than Felix. Thankfully for them both, Minho had a way of always being on time. 

“Hey all that matters is I made it. Is everything else ready?” Looking around Minho could see that Hyunjin’s bed was transitioned back into the couch setting and that the floors had been tidied up. A couple stray balloons littered the floor as well as a home made “happy birthday felix” sign hung from their living room screen divider. 

“Yep, I've just been waiting anxiously for you to get home for the past half hour.”

The door handle of their apartment began to jiggle, signaling the two boys to spring into action. Minho setting down the carry out, and Hyunjin frantically lights candles on the small cake on the coffee table. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled after-work Felix wandering through the door. As soon as the boy turned toward their living room, he was accosted with shouts and the flailing limbs of his hyungs. 

“Surprise!!!” “Happy Birthday!!!” 

Felix’s smile erased any of the signs of exhaustion off his face immediately as soon as he spotted his hyungs excited expressions. The cake, the streamers, the balloons, and sign all sparked some joyful tearing of his eyes as he set down his things and made his way to the small cake with a few random lit candles on top. The clock had crossed over into the next day as Felix had made his way home, that he had almost forgotten that it was now technically the early morning hours of his birthday. Coming home to joyful cheers instead of their usual exhausted silence had given him a certain happiness that he hadn’t realized he was missing. 

For all of three of the roommates this was their first time having a celebration in their small home together. By now the sense of home was undeniable and without realizing it all of them had begun to consider each other and their shared 3 room apartment, home. 

The disjointed singing of happy birthday followed by the laughter and conversation surrounded their coffee table as the three enjoyed their small carryout feast and cake. The warmth that their company gave each other lasted well into the night.

“Hyung! It's my birthday, stop eating all the cake!!!” 

“I have no idea what youre talking about Lixie.” Minho says while actively taking another bite of their 2 person sized cake. 

“Hyung!” The laughter of the oldest filled the room followed by the other two’s not too long after.

“Happy Birthday Lixie~” The smile hadn’t left the freckled boys faces since he had sat down, and remained as he pulled his two roommates into a forceful hug. It was his birthday so the boys both submitted to the clingy nature of their third roommate, as always.

---

It was late into the early morning by the time Minho had checked his phone. 

[ 5 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung]

A soft pang of guilt hits his chest after reading the younger’s texts and realizing that he did in fact leave the other on read for the better part of the last two hours.  

2:43 am 

I’m so sorry Sungie!

We were celebrating Felix’s birthday, and I didnt check my phone…. 

Look at the cute cake we got him!

{photo attached}

Minho sent the selfie of the three of them with Felix’s cake, if anything just to lessen the guilt in his chest. Hoping that the cuteness of Felix’s smile would be enough to forgive him for low key ghosting him for a few hours. Minho knows that on the days Jisung has the most schedules are the hardest for him mentally, and he always tries his best to be there for him and send him a message or two to lessen the load on those nights. The fact that he hadn’t been there tonight filled him with some worry. A part of him hoped that the younger would’ve been asleep by now but their late night track record did not exactly support that. 

---

Jisung had been lying painfully awake in his bed for an hour when he heard the buzz of his phone. Slightly upset with his body for not giving into the exhaustion he had gathered from the day, and just letting him sleep, he turned to the side table to check the messages. Awake fully ,but only mentally half conscious, he read through his messages:

Minho. Oh, yay, it's Minho.

Felix’s Birthday. Oh right he had mentioned that coming up.

Cute cake. Aw that cake is really cute… wait. 

Birthday.

I have one of those, around this time to- 

I missed my birthday. I forgot my birthday. Everyone forgot.

The cute picture Minho had sent was so filled with happiness that Jisung almost let the pain slide and pass the moment by. But something just didn't feel right in letting himself forget his own birthday. The fact that the others hadn’t remembered didn’t bother him too much. Chan, Changbin, they were all busy with schedules and he can't blame them. Especially since he, himself had forgotten. No birthday text from his family either. Unsurprising though since he rarely got in contact with them since moving to Korea in high school. He forgot though. 

He wasn’t quite sure why this was bothering him so much. Some people don't even celebrate their birthday, or remember how old they are, but Jisung had always prided himself on never letting his work take over entirely who he was. To exhausted-Jisung, he couldn’t help but feel like this was one step toward losing the grip on who he was, and that was in itself, terrifying. 

The coldness of his bed and the dark expanse of his room seemed to only perpetuate the way Jisung felt. Floating, alone, lost. His insecurity was starting to come into focus, and no wonder it had been keeping him up. He had been spiraling for days probably, without even knowing it. The buzz of his phone lit up his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts for a moment. 

[Lee Minho hyungie]

2:50 pm 

You okay Jisung? 

I hope I didn't wake you

Jisung noticed that the app had revealed that he had read the messages and was indeed awake. Unfortunately, exhausted-and--spirling-Jisung was the only one present enough to send a response. Hopefully Minho wouldn’t mind him too much. 

You didn’t wake me, was already up :/ 

It looks really fun hyung

I just realized something too

My birthday was yesterday

I forgot it

Jisung found himself fighting the watering of his eyes as he sent those messages. Why was he crying? He just forgot, he was busy. It was okay. Right? The tears seemed to only cloud his vision more, blocking him from reading the messages from Minho that were buzzing and populating the screen. Not bothering to wipe his eyes, he let them blurr.

Wh- do you- mea- ???

Jis--ng ar- y-- ok--?

I-- sorry i- di-nt -----

---- wa-t --- ca-l?

--sung?

A few moments passed, without him realizing it, as his phone buzzed some more, screen changing to the incoming call screen. Sucking up his tears and drying his damp screen, it took a few tries before answering the call.

---

“Jisung!?” Jisung nearly flinched, just nearly. 

“Hi hyung, How was work?” hoping to cover up his tears by changing the subject. Jisung thought it was a pretty good attempt.

“How wa- what, no. Jisung are you okay?” There it was again. The undeniable worry in Minho’s voice. Ow. 

“Yeah I’m okay.” Despite Jisung’s efforts it was obvious to Minho that the other had in fact been crying. Not wanting to push the younger though, he allowed him to change the subject

“.... okay, I just want to check in on you. I worry you know, Sung!” 

“About me? that's silly hyung.” The distance in his tone replaced Jisung’s usual brightness, and it hurt Minho to hear it. 

“I don't think so. How am I to know what my favorite customer is up to? You may be a soon to be rap star but that doesn’t keep you from ignoring your hyung.” Even though Jisung giggled at that, the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Minho. A wave of guilt washed over his chest as soon as he said it. 

“I am sorry though. For not answering sooner and everything.” 

And for reminding you of your birthday, and making you cry, and not being there to make you smile.

“No don’t be sorry! That’ll only make me feel worse for bothering you… I think the exhaustion was just making me delirious, I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights.” Minho had to fight his initial protective instincts that told him to scold the younger for not taking care of himself, because a part of him knew that the younger was certainly trying his best to do so. 

“Well if you can’t sleep ever, just call me okay? I’m usually up from my shifts anyway. Plus if I'm not up surely one of my roommates is. Felix will probably never let go of you once he finds your birthday brothers." Hearing Minho's laugh lightened the tight pressure that Jisung hadn't realized had been settled in his chest.

"Okay hyung, i'd like that I think."

"You better. My time rarely comes free, and this is a limited time offer." Jisung’s laugh is a little bit more enthusiastic this time. 

“Of course hyung.” A silence came over them for a moment. Not an awkward one, more of a point of realization and relief. Like the feeling after having a good cry, in Jisung’s case. 

“Happy belated birthday Jisung.” 

“Thanks hyung… Did you have a fun time with Felix?” 

“Yeah! It was actually a lot of fun. Just some carry out and cake after work, but it was good to relax with them. We don't always have free time together, and haven’t had the chance to celebrate anything until now. Hyunnie luckily found a cake on sale at the mart today, sparking this whole thing.” 

Minho remembered the frantic call from the younger as he delved into his plans for giving Felix the “perfect surprise birthday celebration” because he had “found the perfect cake to match Felix’s cuteness.” It was on sale. Also because “Come on Min-hyung Felix would absolutely do the same for us.” Explaining the situation to Jisung really did solidify the fact that Minho knew Felix, would in fact, plan some adorable birthday celebration for the older two if given the opportunity. 

“What would you guys have done if he hadn't found the cake?”

“I’m not sure maybe it would’ve just been a carry-out celebration.”

“Still sounds really nice hyungie. You and your roommates seem so close.” 

“I suppose shared rent does that to people.” Minho laughed it off but he had begun to cherish the brotherly bond that had grown between his roommates. 

Not having ever considered it before, the fact that the roommates were only able to buy a cake because it happened to be on sale, revealed to Jisung that their financial situations may have been farther apart than he realized. Money had never been a barrier that Jisung had to face, always having family (or honestly Changbin) help pay for his living and pursuit of his dreams. Sure he’s had part time jobs in the past but he never found himself worrying about not making enough each month. Not going to university definitely was a large factor in maintaining his “affordable” lifestyle.

“It's nice you do things for each other. I can't remember the last time my hyungs and I have done something together that didn't have to do with our music.” Jisung started to feel some sort of jealousy at the closeness that Minho and his roommate had found in each other. Financial guilt and emotional jealousy are a strange combination for a half conscious Jisung to say the least. 

“Are those fools not taking care of my Sung properly? Illegal, tell them to call me I have to yell at them too. They better not be working you too hard.” 

‘My Sung’ Jisung almost choked. Almost. 

“Nonono Hyung! They take care of me fine, we're all just exhausted with work.”

“Hmmmm okay they get a pass this time, but please relay my threat.”

“Okay okay I will.” 

“You should probably get some rest soon. You're busy tomorrow right?” 

Jisung yawned in response, which was enough convincing for Minho that he needed to rest. 

“Okay looks like it's sleepy time for hardworking Jisung~”

“Wait hyung!” Jisung wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, even though his body was actively fighting him.

“Yes belated birthday boy?”

“Thank you for not letting me be a sad gremlin all night. It would've been nice to have spent my birthday with you, but you still made me feel better.”

The musings of sleepy Jisung were just about enough to let the fondness burst from Minho’s chest. As much as he continues to hide it, the fondness still seeps into his voice, “Of course, Jisung we always have next year.” A promise he wasn’t sure he could keep but Jisung always made him want to try new things. 

“Next year?” The sleepiness had definitely taken over, making his voice much softer than his usual bright edge. 

“Yes next year... Goodnight Sungie, call me back if you can't sleep okay.”

“Mmkay, G’night hyungie.” Already half asleep by the time he hung up, Minho was glad that the younger was finally able to rest. Glancing at his roommates huddled together on the couch already drifting off, Minho accepted that it was his turn to finally rest knowing that all his younger companions were all safely sleeping. Hyung instincts he supposes.

-----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

[jaeknightorbats]

Tunnel Caprica [M] part 2

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre: Smut, dark romance

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a seemingly wealthy man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards.  It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 2

Word count: 4.7k

How does it feel like saving someone’s life?

It has been almost a month since the man named Oh Sehun promised Baekhyun that he was going to contact him to repay for saving Sehun’s life. But he’s never contacted Baekhyun since.

Baekhyun forgot all about it, as if it didn’t happen. It was the least he could do. Besides, he was given a huge tip—Sehun gave all the cash on his wallet. It was around $400. He even apologized if it wasn’t much, he doesn’t bring much cash, he said.

Because of it, Baekhyun was able to pay his dues on time and even bought his girlfriend a factory unlocked iPhone, which made her beyond happy. He took his previous gift from Yuri since he lost his things, together with his phone, at the parking lot the time he saved Sehun.

He felt like it was bound to happen, it helped him solve his problems. Must be really his lucky day.

Baekhyun was at his place, with his girlfriend. They had their legs tangled to one another at his bed, sucking each other’s tongues, kissing each other passionately.

Such bliss they felt as they lose their minds to feel the other.

Yuri slightly pushed Baekhyun’s chest away from her, separating their lips apart. Tips of their noses close to one another, feeling each other’s breath.

She looked into Baekhyun’s hazy eyes, biting her lips.

“We’ve been dating for more than a year,” she gulped, hesitant to say what she had on mind. Baekhyun gently smiled as he adored his partner. He stroked his hand on Yuri’s hair. She rolled her eyes away to rolled it back again to Baekhyun’s.

“You know…you can touch me, right?” She continued, “…Anywhere.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks flared, feeling a little embarrassed. “I know. It’s just that…” He fixed Yuri’s hair back to her ear and held the side of her small face. “…I respect you so much.”

“Aw,” breathed Yuri. She was flattered but embarrassed because she just made herself look horny. She held Baekhyun’s hand and kissed it. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

They stared to each other’s eyes dearly, as if they were the only people in the world.

“I have so much respect for you because I love you. I hope you know that.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Baekhyun’s palm on her cheek, the warmth of his legs squeezing hers, his body heat, and his love. “I love you, Baek.”

Then, Baekhyun softly pulled Yuri to him and gave her a kiss.

It’s a weekend and Baekhyun has an 11AM shift at work. He wished he could stay with Yuri longer, but he got to work to earn money to pay the bills and to make his girl happy.

Pretty average flow at the store. There were a couple of customers who held the line, few pissed him off, but he got to stay composed—it’s his job.

“After 6 months of being away, the son of the ex-president finally came back home to his homeland.”

“It’s that peak season again.” An old customer in front of the counter turned his head from the television back to Baekhyun, trying to start a short conversation.

“Well, yeah. It’s almost summer,” Baekhyun replied with a friendly smile.

The old man scowled. “Who are you talking to?”

Baekhyun scoffed and watched the grumpy man walked away after he paid his items.

Baekhyun suddenly received a text. A text from Yuri. Seeing her name on his cellphone screen always made him smile.

‘I miss you, B,’ it said.

He bit his lips to control the joy he was feeling.

“Now, what are you grinning about?”

Baekhyun shoot his phone behind his back pocket as soon as he could when he heard his manager spoke.

He faced the person in front of him.

Wait, no. It wasn’t his manager.

“Mr. Sehun?”

The man, Sehun, sneered as he placed a bottle of sparkling water at the counter. Baekhyun slowly walked forward to scan his item. He didn’t know what to feel, maybe surprised.

Sehun was wearing casual clothes, a simple plain T-shirt, pants, and a baseball cap. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Completely different from what he was wearing the night Baekhyun met him—he looked like one of the people. But there was also an atmosphere around him, or how the way he moved, that differed him from other of people.

“How’s it going?” Baekhyun asked, that’s the only thing he could think of. The man in front of him seemed well and healthy compared weeks ago when he was trying to revive him.

“I’ve been busy traveling so I wasn’t able to contact you.” Sehun opened the bottle of water and drank it after he gave his payment. “Besides, I’ve been looking for you here the same time I went here before. Twice, I think? You weren’t here.”

Surprised, Baekhyun’s brows climbed his forehead. “What?”

“Yeah, I asked someone here.”

“Why though?”

Sehun sneered, looking at Baekhyun as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “You saved my ass, man! C’mon.”

“Excuse me.” Suddenly, a soft voice behind Sehun’s took the attention of both. It was the next customer.

“Anyway,” Sehun looked back to Baekhyun, reaching for his hand, so, Baekhyun took it. “Come to my party tonight. You must come.”

Sehun turned his back to Baekhyun, raised his arm with two finger lifted, and slightly waved. “Ciao.”

There was a piece of paper on Baekhyun’s hand. He opened it, and there was an address written on it.

Baekhyun was on a completely different area of the district, he was outside the city. The peaceful side, where each house or establishment he drove by were far apart.

# 1228 Grand Aria Estates, Cayman.

Located at west side of the district, where one could get the best view of the majestic mountain range of his country, Ioca—the Turris Caelo mountains, which also meant the Heaven Tower mountains. People treat the mountains sacred because it became their shield from the horrid weather that wanted to cross their country. The mountains have saved Ioca from calamities countless times.

Cayman was considered as the wealthiest and most exclusive suburb in his district, if not in Ioca. Baekhyun knew the area, but he hardly came by—he has no business there. Now, he has.

It was already past 9:00 PM, Baekhyun was in front of the gates of the residential village, as written on the paper. He rode his third-hand car to reach the place since it wasn’t exactly an easy place to find. 

He had a little fight with Yuri before she let him attend the party. At first, Baekhyun didn’t want to come because he felt intimidated—there was no doubt that it would be a party for the rich. He’s heard of the residential village—the price of a single square-meter lot still blew his mind. He could live for years with that kind of money.

Yuri initially thought a woman has invited Baekhyun to a party once Baekhyun mentioned anything about a party. She started jumping conclusions. But when she learned it was the man who Baekhyun saved—the man who gave Baekhyun $400—invited him to the party, Yuri forced Baekhyun to attend. She thought there could be some bigger reward waiting for her boyfriend. She even helped him which clothes should he wear—she wanted her boyfriend to look slick. They didn’t know what kind of party he’ll be attending but Yuri made him wear something he could wear at any type of party—a tight jean, a black V-neck shirt, a suit they bought at the thrift shop the last minute, and a black class B leather shoes without socks to finish it all.

Yuri wanted to come herself but it was Baekhyun who doesn’t let her. He knew what alcohol could do to Yuri, he didn’t want Yuri to embarrass herself in front of people they don’t know. This made Yuri infuriated. Shouting until their throats sore. At the end, Yuri still pushed Baekhyun to attend and she only had one instruction to Baekhyun: “Don’t fool around.”

The tall iron rails began to roll open after the guards confirmed that Baekhyun was invited to Sehun’s party. The guard took his license and checked the trunk and bottom of his car with a ferocious Rottweiler tied on his hand—it was a strict security, which made Baekhyun feel a little more intimidated.

He regretted everything and wanted to go back, he should’ve brought Yuri with him, at least. But there was no turning back, Sehun already knew he reached his address.

He drove slowly by the hills. It was dark and peaceful, it looked like a very safe and quiet neighborhood. Baekhyun realized how ridiculously rich the man he saved as he drove passed by the different sizes of mansions and villas in the village.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Sehun lived next to a famous celebrity or personality.

 He finally saw a house—a large house—with a line of luxury cars parked outside.

This must be the one.

He parked a little farther away from the house. He was a little embarrassed by his ride. He took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

He said ‘tonight’. It’s a party, so it should start late.

He observed the house as he got nearer by the gates. Gates as almost tall as the main gates of the village. A classic white two-floor mansion with red bricked roofs. A fairly big driveway to the main doors. A lot of cars. All lights shined through the window. He could hear indistinct music from the house, it wasn’t very loud but he could hear it.

1228, written on one of the pillars of the gate.

He stood outside the gates and rang the doorbell. Without any word, the gate buzzed and automatically opened. He spotted two men in suits, with gears hanging on their ears, must be some guard. As he walked on the driveway, the main door opened, a man walked outside his doorsteps, and stood there waited for Baekhyun. It was Sehun. Hands on pocket, looking tall and sharp, with broad shoulders, on his black mandarin collared shirt under a white suit—he was shining. He had his hair gelled up to the back of his and and it shined under the light. He was looking very slick.

Sehun stared at the man who avoided eye contact with him.

“You’re late,” said Sehun as soon as Baekhyun reached a close distance to him. “I don’t like late people.”

Baekhyun’s heart almost dropped, nervously stepping on the short stairs to the main doors. Sehun seemed serious. “Uh yeah. I thought—“

Sehun howled, breaking his serious face on. “I was kidding! Haha. You looked so tense. C’mere.” Sehun wrapped an arm to Baekhyun’s shoulders and they entered the house.

Baekhyun nervously laughed. It wasn’t a good joke.

“Seriously, though, I value time very much.”

Baekhyun forced a laugh from his nose. But you didn’t state what time.

“But I’m glad you made it. I thought you weren’t gonna make it. You missed dinner, though. Have you eaten?” Baekhyun nodded to Sehun’s question. “You look good, by the way,” Sehun added.

Sehun released Baekhyun from his arm. Baekhyun got to breathe better. A waiter in suit, holding a tray of champagne, stopped in front of them, Sehun took one glass then gave it to Baekhyun.

What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.

Baekhyun was stiff from his position, feeling overly intimidated by everything. Even the waiter who was serving them intimidated him.

His stomach doesn’t feel good.

He looked at the glass on his hand, he’s never drank champagne in his life. But he may need it to gain some courage so he could go through the party.

Baekhyun slightly swirled the narrow glass near his nose, because he doesn’t know how to drink it, then the nice subtle aroma of the liquid that sort of smelled like flowers and fruits entered his nose. He took a sip of it, and it tasted like how it smelled but a little funkier because of the bubbles and the alcohol content. He liked the taste of it, so, he drank it all in one shot, surprising Sehun.

“I know right?” expressed Sehun, with a smug look on his face. “Tasted good, huh?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun forced a smile after tasting the drink. He may have not drank all types of alcohol in his life, but he knew he needed something stronger.

People gave them short attention as they walked inside the house until they reached the backyard. Baekhyun only assumed that people were turning their heads to them because he was with the host. Or maybe he was wearing such simple clothes. Sehun nodded to whoever he laid his eyes on and made eye contact with. They walked through the house until they reached the huge backyard.

Baekhyun assumed that the party would be loud—the one with DJs and loud music, lots of young people such as themselves, or maybe even younger. But it wasn’t, it was rather quaint. It was a sophisticated party.

High tables scattered around the backyard, occupied by people in suits and dresses, mostly suits. Everyone dressed interestingly, or what he liked to call it—weird fashion. It was the battle of who has the largest earrings and jewelries for women. Men were much more simple, but some wanted to stand out with their colored suits.

Classical music played across the yard.

“Hey, Sehun.” A man walked towards them with a glass of dark golden drink on his hand. “So, are you going to buy it?”

While Sehun was minding his own business, a waiter carrying a bottle of liquor and a couple of small, cube glasses on a tray passed by them, catching Baekhyun’s attention.

That’s what I need.

“Sir, wait,” he called the waiter, in a timid voice. “Two, please.” He coughed, slightly cracking his voice.

The waiter poured the clear liquid to two glasses. Baekhyun then took glasses of alcohol, which seemed like tequila, or something hard. He drank it both in one shot one after another without holding back.

It was tequila. The alcohol went smoothly through Baekhyun’s throat, but he instantly felt the fire ran through his face. “Wow,” he mouthed. He could feel his ears firing up. He never had something like that. He returned the glasses back to the waiter.

“Woah,” said Sehun, he watched Baekhyun took his shots.

Baekhyun gave a half smile. “Just trying to catch up.”

“Haha, you’re funny. By the way,” Sehun turned to the man he was talking to. “Chen, this is the man who saved my life—Baekhyun. But don’t tell my father.”

Both of them laughed, even Baekhyun. Then, the man named Chen shook hands with Baekhyun. “Thank you,” Chen said. “Otherwise, sales would be slow.” It seemed like a joke because Sehun laughed. But Baekhyun didn’t get the joke, he only pretended to laugh.

Chen nodded his head to Sehun then to Baekhyun and walked to another table. The other two went for an empty table.

“That man sell art,” Sehun said as if explaining everything what just happened. “He thinks he’s good, but he’s all right. Good artists aren’t interested in money.”

Baekhyun nodded, pretending he was interested. The taste of the strong liquid he just consumed still lingered on his palate, and could still feel the after effects it had. His mind was still on the shot.

 “So, what’s this party all about?” Baekhyun has been meaning to ask.

“Nothing much, really. Catching up, I guess.”

“Rich people,” Baekhyun muttered to himself, hoping Sehun didn’t hear it.

“What?”

Baekhyun immediately shook his head.

“It’s been busy. Everyone’s been out, traveling—be it business or leisure. Guess we finally had the time to catch up,” Sehun added.  “Also that’s why I couldn’t contact you immediately.”

“Yeah, you did mention.” Baekhyun slowly nodded, roaming around his eyes to observe the place. Then, one particular person took his attention. “Wait, is that—“

He looked at Sehun for confirmation, and Sehun turned at the direction where Baekhyun had his eyes on.

“Minseok?” Sehun smirked, returning his look back at Baekhyun. “Yeah, it’s been hard for him lately. Media doesn’t understand privacy.”

Baekhyun shouldn’t be that surprised to see someone he saw on the television, Sehun lived in such a luxurious neighborhood. But he wasn’t expecting to see someone like Kim Minseok.

Kim Minseok was the one who Kang Sunmi, a fifteen year-old, filed a divorce with. He’s been in the news a lot lately. Kim Minseok was 34 years old when he married the 13-year-old girl. He’s now 36.

Baekhyun felt repulsed. “What the heck is he doing here?” He couldn’t stand the fact that he was in a same room as the person who married and abused a child. It absolutely appalled him.

Sehun only observed Baekhyun’s reaction. “He’s actually my friend, and heavily misunderstood.”

Without thinking of his actions—and how could he, the tequila hit him strong, it made his head feel a little funny—he expressed a bitter face. “What?! It’s absur—“

Then, Baekhyun noticed the face that Sehun was wearing—he didn’t look happy. It washed away the disgust that was painted on his face. It scared him.

Sehun walked closer to Baekhyun, facing opposite the high table with elbow leaning on it—he was closer to Baekhyun’s ears. Sehun said in a low voice, “You have no idea how easy it is to accuse a 36-year-old pedophile.”

Baekhyun’s couldn’t blink an eye, his face was rigid with tension.

Sehun added, “That girl—Sunmi, and her mom demanded $20 million from Minseok just to not go public about the divorce. Even threatened him that they’ll accuse him of abuse when Minseok never did. He fucking loved that girl.”

Hearing the price baffled Baekhyun’s mind. They talked about money as if they have such large amount always at their disposal. Baekhyun couldn’t speak for a second, trying to process it all.

“Women,” Sehun grumbled.

Baekhyun hesistantly asked, “If that’s true… why isn’t that on the news?”

Sehun slightly scoffed, shaking his head. “You just did the face what the whole society thinks of people like Minseok. It’s pointless. We don’t want fanning the flame, now do we, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun’s brows furrowed. He’s got a point.

Women can be so cruel. He’s started to feel sympathy towards the accused.

He shook his head upon an absurd realization. No, I shouldn’t feel sympathy. It’s wrong. It’s wrong.

“So, they would let the girl win?” Baekhyun asked seriously.

Sehun stopped, looking into Baekhyun’s eyes. “What the heck is this seriousness all about?” he threw his hand to Baekhyun’s chest. “Let’s enjoy the party!”

They started to roam around the yard, meeting and greeting whoever needed Sehun’s attention. There were so much he didn’t understand, but Baekhyun kept drinking a glass of champagne. The drink was actually working—he could feel the effects of the alcohol to him. He knew he couldn’t walk straight.

Baekhyun was starting to like the party. He never knew that such delicate parties were something he was looking for; he was always used to, and always heard of, the loud ones to be more fun. There was something fancy in these type of parties—well, because it was—and it made him feel a little good and a little high class and up above compared to the people he knew. It was a nice feeling.

“Hey, man!” An obviously drunk guy approached them, he seemed a little younger than them.

Sehun faked a smile, it was already obvious to Baekhyun that Sehun didn’t want to be associated with the guy. “Jaemin.”

The guy, Jaemin, threw a hearty pat at Sehun’s shoulder. He leaned closer to Sehun’s ears. “Hey, w-why didn’t you come to my party?!” He couldn’t even speak his words properly. “You know what? You know what? The plane was amazing,” he emphasized, smiling smugly, as if trying to make Sehun jealous.

Sehun jerked Jaemin’s hand off him, but still kept his grace and said as politely as he could, “I think you’ve had a little more than enough on your booze.”

“No, no!” Jaemin wavered on his place. “You know! You should’ve seen…” An indistinct voice followed after he whispered something to Sehun.

The light in Sehun’s eyes changed.

It made Baekhyun wonder.

Sehun light patted the guy’s chest and said, “Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

Sehun walked towards Baekhyun, shaking his head. “Nouveau riche,” he mumbled with an accent that Baekhyun couldn’t distinguish.

“Nuvo what?” Baekhyun’s brows creased, trying to pronounce what he just heard.

“New money. It’s French. Let’s go.” They both turned their backs to Jaemin and started walking again. “His parents are scam… brilliant, but a scam.” He added, “They made people believe in social media that their company were donating something like money, trees, or food. But they’re really only keeping their money to themselves, and still gain hundreds of thousands of followers. It’s infuriating. And people are just so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, that sounds infuriating,” said Baekhyun, not really interested. Sehun kept sharing things to him that he never asked about, but he could only nod and agree.

“No, it’s not because of that. But because of his fucking ego. He thinks he’s all high and mighty. His parents bought that fucking plane, not him.”

“Plane? Wow,” Baekhyun reacted, as if it only occurred to him what they talked about. “People can actually buy planes?”

Sehun looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “’Course, you can.”

“How much that costs?”

Sehun scoffed. “Not cheap.”

“E-hey!” A loud voice suddenly distracted the two from walking.

It was a middle-aged, tall woman wearing an African patterned maxi dress. It seemed like a dress robe to Baekhyun—a fancy, fashionable dress robe. Her dangling bracelets made a sound as she opened her arms wide open, waiting for them, waiting for Sehun. Sehun gave a big smile, also seemed excited after seeing her

They both hugged each other out and kissed both of their cheeks with their cheeks. The woman looked at Baekhyun with a mischievous and flirty look. “So, who’s this cute guy you’re with?”

Sehun patted Baekhyun’s shoulder with a tight grip. “This is Byun Baekhyun. A friend.”

Baekhyun smiled at the woman, shy to say anything to the pretty woman.

“Oooh. Hi, Baekhyun.” The woman lightly pulled Baekhyun’s shoulder closer to her to kiss him both on the cheek.

“Baekhyun, this is good friend Maria or Mimi.”

“Mimi,” Baekhyun repeated. He found the nickname weird, Mimi was a foreign name for a local face.

“So.” Sehun grinned, rubbing his hands, and regaining Mimi’s attention back to him.

Mimi seemed like she already understood what Sehun was trying to say. She looked at the guy behind her who was in a simple suit, and the guy behind him understood Mimi. He took something on his inner pockets and gave it to Sehun.

Sehun bit his lips, still grinning, and raised a small clear plastic zip bag with white, tiny pills in it.

It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to figure it out—it was obviously drugs. It didn’t surprise him. If he could guess what it was, it could be ecstasy.

Sehun exhaled in satisfactory through his nose, shaking his head to Mimi. “I love you, Mimi. You’re the best.”

“Of course, anything for you, my dear.” They both hugged each other. “But, I must be going.”

“What? You just got here.”

“I really must be going. The kids,” she shrugged as if she couldn’t do anything that she has kids waiting for her at home. “But it was good seeing you.”

Sehun clicked his tongue. “That’s very sweet of you for stopping by.”

“Of course!” Mimi gracefully waved her hand to both Sehun and Baekhyun as she left the yard followed by her guard or something.

Sehun waited for her to leave from their sight.

“Do you take pills?” He then asked, offering Baekhyun a pill.

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure? This is shit premium. You don’t see this every day.”

Baekhyun stared at the white pill that was resting on Sehun’s palm. He shook his head. “Nah, I really rather not.”

“Okay.” Sehun shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He drank the pill and took a sip of whiskey that he was holding.

Even though Baekhyun was enjoying the party, he was starting to feel impatient why was he ever invited to the party at the first place.

They transferred inside, sitting at a sofa. Some people were still enjoying the party, some people had to go.

“Hey,” called Sehun to Baekhyun. “I’d really appreciate if you don’t tell anybody about what happened. Well, except to the ones we’ve already told here.”

Baekhyun was feeling a little laggy, and feeling a little hot. His face was all greasy, but he didn’t care. “Yeah, ok,” he replied, tipsy. He understood what Sehun was talking about—about him being overdosed.

Sehun clicked his tongue, slightly shaking his head. “My parents’ worse than jail. But damn, I’m glad you didn’t call the fucking ambulance. That’d be even worse than prison!” He paused. “My thanks to you.”

Baekhyun just scoffed.

Oh wait. He forgot to document the party and post it later on social media. He had a sudden urge to take his new phone out and share he’s on a fancy party. Bet I’d impress a lot of people.

So, he recorded a simple 10 second video.

“So, how’s your sex life?”

Baekhyun was surprised by the unexpected transition after he finished recording. The question wasn’t about his life, his job, his financial state, not even his love life, but Sehun asked about his sex life.

“What?” he said with a little giggle, eyes a little droopy. The alcohol was making his muscles a little heavier.

“You heard me.”

Baekhyun scoffed, leaning back to the sofa. He looked at Sehun, feeling ridiculed. Baekhyun felt a sense of insecurity pierced through him. He couldn’t admit that he’s never done it. Kids losing their virginities at 15, and he’s almost 30—still a virgin. It’s an embarrassment, but it was also his choice.

“So?” Sehun was waiting.

Baekhyun laughed through his nose, still couldn’t speak a word. He wanted to lie about it, but for some reason, he didn’t know what to say. “Mm—Uh” He was basically slurring words.

Sehun reclined back with eyes wide open after concluding something on his mind. “No.” He leaned forward, very close to Baekhyun’s face and said in a low voice. “You’ve never done it?”

“No!” Baekhyun denied, moving away from Sehun. “Of course, n-“ Baekhyun’s voice got lower.

“So, when was the last time? Earlier?” Sehun was high, all right. The grin on his face was creeping Baekhyun out.

Baekhyun couldn’t form a word again. He emptied the glass that he was having.

Sehun realized what his friend was hiding but decided to not say anything.

“So, who was the one you’re texting earlier? And why were you all so fucking grinning? Girl or boy?”

Baekhyun cringed. “Of course, she’s a girl. What the hell?”

“What? People appreciate my open mind-ness.” Sehun shrugged with open arms. “How old is she?”

“23.”

“Nice. So, she your girlfr—“

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Why do you ask so much questions?”

Sehun stayed silent and respected Baekhyun. They both stayed silent for a while, observing the party, Baekhyun drinking another booze.

“What’s this party all about? Again?” Baekhyun asked. He felt calmer and stupid—he realized that he just raised his voice in front of a millionaire.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked Sehun, ignoring Baekhyun’s question.

Baekhyun bounced his head as a response. He looked at Sehun. He noticed that there was something different about him, about his eyes. Something clicked. He didn’t know what exactly, but it was intriguing.

“Follow me.” Sehun stood up, buttoning his unbuttoned white suit, and started to walk.

Baekhyun watched him walk, then he later followed.

Maybe this is it, he thought. The reward I’m waiting for.

He kept following Sehun who was walking straight. He realized Sehun only had one drink, and it was the whiskey after he took the pill. He checked the time on his watch. He had to frown hard to see the image on his wobbling wrist clearly.

It’s almost midnight.

To be continued...

A/N: Send notes. Follow me on twitter for updates @/jaeandbats

**

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Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (NEW!)

[saikostories]

BTS - Five stages of Grief (Jin)

Warning - May be upsetting to some readers, contains bad language

Jin hums to himself as he juggles the bags around on his arms, searching for his keys in his pockets. He silently scolds himself for wearing such tight jeans to the shop, but he forgets it when he thinks of how you’ll react when you see him coming in. He can tell that you’ve been feeling a little down lately, so he took the day off to spend with you. He let you sleep in while he went shopping, buying everything he needs to make your favourite meal. The excitement bubbles up inside of him as he pushes the door open, calling your name,

“Hey! I’m home! I hope you’re ready for the best meal of your whole entire life because I bought the best ingredients I could!” Jin yells into the silence of the apartment. He smiles to himself, assuming that you’re probably still in bed. He walks through to the kitchen, going to set the bags down on the counter when he sees you.

You’re collapsed on the floor, in an unnatural position. Jin stops short, not able to do anything but stare at you. The way your hair fans out behind you, the dead glassy look in your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the lack of movement on your body. You’re not breathing. For a moment, Jin can’t move he doesn’t know what to do. The silence seems to buzz at him, growing in volume and enveloping him menacingly until he breaks it, shouting your name. The bags drop from his grip and he falls down beside you, pulling your head against his chest as he begins to cry. He knows you’re not breathing. He can’t see any signs of life, and your skin isn’t warm anymore. You’re dead.

The first stage of grief is denial. Jin refuses to acknowledge that you’ve gone. When the coroner comes, after the paramedics pronounce you dead, and Jin’s done insisting that they’re wrong, Jin nearly doesn’t answer the door. He nearly refuses to let them in,

“They can’t take her, she’s not gone yet. It’s those damn paramedics not doing their job!” Jin yells at Yoongi, who had to drag him away from you. He’d tried to revive you himself when the paramedics wouldn’t, but everyone knew it was never going to work. Your skin’s cold. You’re not coming back. Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung are huddled in a corner, holding each other as they cry. Hoseok isn’t far away, watching over his maknaes while his elders are busy. Tears fall silently down his own cheeks, but he can’t break yet. Later, he promises himself, you can cry later. Just hold it together for them,

“Jin, she’s gone. I’m sorry, I know-“ Yoongi starts, hands still firm on Jin’s shoulders, physically holding him down as he tries to get up,

“Shut up! Namjoon don’t you let that coroner in! I just need to get to her! Please, I can help her! Yoongi just let me get up, I can do it! I learned CPR, she’s not gone yet! Why are you just giving up?” Jin pleads, not letting Yoongi get out what he wants to say. Namjoon throws an apologetic look to Yoongi as he opens the door. The black bags will set Jin off more than Yoongi will be able to handle on his own, and both of the men know it. When Namjoon opens the door, he quickly bolts over to Jin, helping Yoongi in holding him down. But he’s hysteric, and the pained sounds leaving his lips hurt everyone.

The second stage of grief is anger. Jin stays in this stage the longest. The group visit every day, but it only aggravates Jin. Jimin and Taehyung sit on the couch, holding each other as Jin has another one of his outbursts. They’re becoming more and more frequent, and more and more unpredictable. Hoseok had gone to get a blanket for Jin, because he was shivering, but when Jin saw Hoseok’s hands gripping the fluffy blanket, he snapped,

“Don’t touch that!” He had screamed, leaping up to tear it from Hoseok, “That’s hers! Don’t you get it? Don’t touch her things! It’s hers and it’s not yours to touch and throw around like some toy! How dare you waltz on in here, taking her stuff and getting it dirty! Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jin spat, taking a step closer to Hoseok with every passing moment, his face red as he bore down upon the younger man. Jungkook had tried to step in, placing a hand on Jin’s shoulder,

“Jin hyung, please calm down. Hobi hyung didn’t know. You can put it back, and we won’t touch it again, okay?” The maknae had suggested. He wanted to fix the situation, but it only did the opposite. Jin shoved the younger man hard. Under normal circumstances, Jungkook was easily stronger than Jin, but the shock of the violent outburst sent him stumbling back, falling into the couch. That’s when Jimin had started crying,

“Shut up!” Jin had screamed, rounding on the smallest of the seven. That’s when Yoongi had to step in. Jungkook could take getting hit, Hoseok could take getting yelled at. But not Jimin. He’d taken this badly too and Yoongi wouldn’t watch him suffer the way that Jungkook or Hoseok had,

“Jin, take a step back. This isn’t Jimin’s fault. We’re all upset,” Yoongi had told Jin firmly, taking a step between the two. Jin’s eyes darkened a shade further at this challenge, but rose to it. He stepped forward, towering over Yoongi, but no means more intimidating. Jin had height and broadness, but Yoongi had heart. Yoongi breaths were controlled and calculated, but he had an air about him that screamed danger. He still does. Jin had stepped back with a scoff, turning to go to his room,

“Group therapy’s over. Fuck off, all of you,” Jin had spat, slamming the bedroom door behind him. But no-one got up to move. Jin would go to sleep, wake up worse than before and need his boys. And his boys needed him too.

The third stage of grief is bargaining. Jin had been refusing visitors, keeping his door locked and windows shut at all times. Namjoon still came every single day, leaving a pot of soup that Jin would drink (cold) hours after Namjoon left. At least he was eating, though. Namjoon would pick up the empty pot and leave a fresh one. It became a routine over the three weeks that Jin kept himself completely closed off.

When Jin wasn’t gulping down the (poorly made) cold soup that Namjoon made, he stayed sat in the middle of his living room, knelt on his bare knees as he spoke with God. He didn’t even believe in a God before you were taken from here. But now, here he was. His knees are raw and bleeding from the three weeks he’s spent like this, and every muscle and tendon in him is inflamed and begging for him to stop. But Jin can’t stop. He wants to make a deal with God, to get you back. He knows that you must have gone to heaven, but if Good doesn’t respond soon he’ll try Satan. In his head, it makes sense,

“I’ll practice Christianity. I won’t swear, I won’t drink, I’ll sing Jesus songs, I’ll go to church, I won’t ever have sex until I’m married. I’ll get a cross tattooed on my forehead if you really want, just please, I want her back. It wasn’t  her time. Why did you take her? Why didn’t you turn her around at the gates and tell her to come back down?” Jin pleads, leaning forward so that his forehead touches the ground. The tears slip onto the carpet in front of him and sobs wrack his body.

Namjoon presses his ear to the door as he usually does, straining to hear more of Jin’s one sided conversation with God. He knows he shouldn’t invade Jin’s privacy like this, but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen his oldest hyung’s face in three weeks, and he’s more than scared for his health. Thing’s aren’t much better back at the dorm. It’s all falling apart. You and Jin had stapled things together, and now that’s collapsing.

The fourth stage of grief is depression. When Jin had finally opened the door for Namjoon, he was barely standing. Namjoon had nearly cried at the sight of him. Jin was dressed in a large shirt and basketball shirts. The loose garments hung off of him in a scary way  his collarbones jutted out violently, his cheek bones were too pronounced, his eyes seemed to sink into his head and his wrists were too thin and shook as he held onto the door handle. His knees were blistered, bruised and cut to the point where Namjoon wondered how Jin had managed to continue to kneel every day for so long. Had Namjoon seen Jin with no shirt, he would have been able to count every single one of ribs, and seen the way his hipbones pushed against his paper white skin,

“I need help,” Jin had whispered, and Namjoon had just nodded, not trying to speak. He had walked into the apartment, not reacting to the state it was in. Jin hadn’t moved from the living room in weeks, and hadn’t tidied up since last time the boys were over. That was a month ago now. Namjoon had missed Jin more than words could day. All he wanted was to call the entire group to come over, but that wasn’t for today. For the first time since your suicide, Namjoon had hope. Maybe Jin was getting better.

The fifth stage of grief is acceptance. But Jin never gets there. He can’t accept it. He’s stuck in limbo, forever trapped between the stages of grief. He can’t escape.

Namjoon knocks on the door twice before just letting himself in. Jin probably wouldn’t answer the door anyway. Knocking has become more of a courtesy at this point. Namjoon shuts the door behind him, walking through to the kitchen, intending to put the kettle on to make some tea. He stops short when he sees a crumpled mess on the floor. Unnatural position… not breathing…. His hair fans out behind him, his eyes are glassy, he looks pale, he’s not moving. He’s not breathing. He’s dead, too.

[caspian-skye]

The Apoptosis Project Ch.8, Making a Statement

“Twenty-five years after Salem's defeat, twins Caspian and Lazula Skye are finally of age to attend their father's academy; just in time for the Creatures of Grimm to return. While fighting the revived horror alongside Frontline Biomedical's controversial Organic Androids, they begin to unravel a web of secrets ensnaring more than they could have ever known.”  

"Okay, let's go ahead and get started for the day!" Professor Corvis-Braun began eagerly. Caspian looked to the lecture hall's stage, where Lilly's mother peeked over the podium. Whenever Caspian had seen the diminutive, feathery-haired woman in the past, she wore some stylish mixture of cardigan, blazer, skirt, sweater, vest, and tights. Her outfit never strayed away from moody hues of black, white, midnight blue, and silver. Apparently, her work attire was no exception.

"Welcome to your first day of Interspecies History!" the professor announced. A pair of dark eyes flicked to the full rows of long, rounded tables forming eight half-circles up to the back of the room. "I'm Professor Corvis-Braun, but you can call me Professor Corvis if it's easier. Or Professor Braun, I love my husband. This class has the reputation of being a bit dry, especially at a school that teaches Grimm Studies and Practical Weapons Training. But! It's important. Plus, every year I've had a handful of students that really take to this class, so that might end up being you!" She took a sip from her water before continuing. "This is a special year for me, because my own daughter happens to be in this room! I won't call her out, but-"

Lilly smiled and turned, waving to the rows behind her.

"Oh! Well then, that's her," Professor Corvis confirmed above a chorus of laughter and "aww"-s. "Anyway, though faunus are equal in law now, and a big city like this sees very little overt racism, we're living in quite an important time right now. Can anyone tell me why this class has become so relevant?"

After several seconds, she pointed to a hand toward the back of the room.

"The Red Claw?"

Professor Corvis-Braun pulled back a bit in surprise. "Yes! I mean, that wasn't the answer I was looking for, but that's an important issue we'll cover in depth starting next week. Any other answers? Good answer, by the way."

At the furthest section of the room, a few rows back, Noxis raised his hand. Professor Corvis called on him.

"I wouldn't count them as a species," Noxis began, leaning back in his chair. "But are you talking about Organds?"

By the end of his first lecture at Sentinel, Caspian's wrist burned from writing, and his stomach was empty. The beginning of class saw a quick, broad overview of course content, which eventually shifted into administrative and logistic details of the class. Professor Corvis finished with a minute to spare, just as the zipping and shuffling of all the backpacks in the room began to drown her out.

Caspian clutched his stomach. "Man, I'm hungry. After Grimm Studies, you guys wanna meet at The Roots?"

"I'm down. I'll ask Ichigo," Rowan agreed.

"I suppose I'll stop by for a bit," Lilly said. "I'm meeting a new friend later this afternoon, though."

Unease crept into Caspian's mind. A new friend...

"Want to come to The Roots after next class?" Caspian typed into his Holoband. He looked across the room.

Noxis flashed his Holoband's screen, looking at it for a few seconds. He shut it off, slung his bag over a shoulder, and made his way out the door.

As Cedar Hall, Sentinel's first-year dormitory building, was built into the side of the steep hill holding the academy above the bay, The Roots Cafe was below ground level on one side, but well above the street on the other. One wall was almost entirely windows, revealing the impressive view from shopping center to the North, to the flat tract of land across the street that held the SFC, sports fields and sparring courts to the South. Looming furthest away, against a backdrop of skyscrapers and sea, was Sentinel Stadium.

The Roots itself was quite cozy, Caspian thought. The side furthest from the windows was a winding maze of counters and kiosks. It got fairly busy at dinner, but the food seemed decent so far, a selection from all over Remnant. Toward the windows, comfortable booths and tables in many shades of brown found space among gently curving half-walls and wooden pillars. At each end of the cafeteria was a near-abstract mural of huntsmen and Grimm.

The day after initiation, Rowan found a round table nestled in a half-circle alcove facing the window. Every meal since, he had refused to sit anywhere else.

"The flesh of Frontline Biomedical Technology's Organic Androids is created from human stem cells. The 'organic components,' as they are called, are mounted onto a titanium alloy and carbon-fiber frame, making Organic Androids nearly indistinguishable from humans," Caspian read. "Though they look much like us, what would be their brain is actually called a 'Brain-Core System.' The 'core,' in the android's chest, handles power and low-level internal functioning. The 'brain,' in the android's head, allows for higher-level processing. However, it should be noted both brain and core are incapable of thought and emotion."

Caspian looked up to Lilly expectantly.

"I see..." she pondered. "I think you do a wonderful job of setting up the issue, and differentiating between Organd and human. However, I fail to see the main point of your paper. I believe it would be helpful if you transitioned into your main point from what you have now." She looked to him. "Do you have any ideas?"

Caspian pursed his lips. "Hmm... I guess, I'll talk about how people generally respect Frontline because of its medical advancements, but there's a lot of distrust toward Organds." He looked up from his screen. "People don't like things that look so human and... aren't."

"Why'd your mom have to go and assign a paper on the first day of class?" Rowan complained. "Always seemed like a nice lady, but that's just cruel."

Lilly's lips drew up in a muted smile of amusement. "It's only two to three pages, and is worth a very small portion of your grade," she reminded. "This is more a measure of your starting point than anything. Have you started?"

"It's due Monday, right?"

"Yes."

"Nope. I think I'll start Saturday. Maybe Sunday," Rowan responded. He tore into his sandwich.

"I think I'll distinguish between combat models and companion models too, because their internal coding and ability to fight is different enough to note," Caspian commented, leaning into his laptop. He struggled to type a few words with his left hand, his right still wrapped up in a sling. "Writing an essay is hard enough with two functional hands."

"What about third gen Organds?" Ichigo inquired.

"They're not out yet. I might mention them, but I don't think I know enough to say much about them..."

Rowan raised a finger, gulping down an ambitious bite of his lunch. "You hear that the third gen ones are gonna be able to eat? Isn't that weird?"

"They can't digest though, what happens to the food?" Ichigo questioned.

"Damn, good question," Rowan admitted. He flicked on his Holoband, typing up a search.

"We're eating," Lilly reminded. "Perhaps we should leave this question for later?"

"...So who's the new friend, Lilly?" Caspian asked, attempting to pass off his budding jealousy as innocent curiosity.

Lilly smiled gently. "Her name is Aspen. She's a second-year, we happened to run into each other when I was exploring the campus libraries."

Good. A girl.

Lilly looked down to her Holoband in surprise, and switched it on. "Oh, that's her right now!" she announced. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin, and shuffled across the half-circle booth until she was free of the table.

"I'll see you later!" Caspian bid with a grin.

Lilly waved, and was on her way.

"Y'know, one of these days it won't be a girl!" Rowan chided.

Caspian balled a napkin in his fist. "I know..."

"When are you gonna make your move? Sentinel's full of dudes. I'm just trying to help you along! You've got that 'childhood friend' thing going for you, but-"

"Can we please talk about anything else?"

-

Sentinel's dorms were a rough transition for Lazula. She had grown so used to her plush bed, giant bathtub in a bathroom with marble floor and golden faucets, and gourmet food whenever she liked. Now in the land of shared showers, standard-issue mattresses, and long lines in The Roots, at least getting up for her morning routine was easier.

Only a few days in, Lazula fell into her routine. Every morning, she would wake exactly at six. She would grab a healthy bite, and run the trail around Sentinel's campus. The loop was almost exactly two miles, so would take eleven or twelve minutes. Then to the Student Fitness Center right as it opened, when no one was around to gawk at her, or the weight she put on bar and machine alike. She would be back before nine to shower and take a second breakfast, making it just in time for her first class.

Classes had just concluded for the day, so the SFC was a bit more crowded than usual. Lazula walked up to the front desk, nodding to the attendant as she neared.

"Where can I find the Sparring Team?" she asked. "I heard there's a meeting here today."

"Oh, that would be..." the student at the front desk began. He keyed a search into the computer. "Room 202. Right up those stairs, first court on the left."

"Thanks." Raising her wrist up to the sensor, her Holoband pulsed once with vibration, and the hard-light door allowed her through. She went to the locker room first, donning her combat attire in its entirety before continuing onto room 202.

"As is the case every year, let's start by talking recruitment," a young man's voice declared from behind the door. Strong, but friendly. Lazula had heard the voice before. "Cole is already working on designing flyers, and I'd like to start handing them out in front of the library starting next week. I'll also ask the Headmaster if-"

The door shut loudly behind Lazula, drawing everyone's eyes to her. One hand rested on Impetus's hilt as Lazula locked eyes with the man, cocking her head back ever slightly.

"I challenge you to a duel."

He cracked a grin. The same impossibly white, straight-toothed smile that decorated Sentinel's promotional material, and advertisements for countless brands having nothing to do with huntsmen. His hair was styled just as neat as the pictures, a close shave on the sides and back of his head, with hair in front and top swept to the side in golden waves, one unruly lock drooping to his brow. She had never realized how thoroughly dark his eyes were.

"And here I was, wondering how long I should wait for you to settle in before challenging you," Midas welcomed. "I admire your initiative."

"I'm a twelve-time tournament champion at a new school with some of the strongest huntsmen in Vale," Lazula reminded. "It only makes sense I challenge the very strongest one here, and beat him."

Midas's smile continued. "Well, then. I accept your challenge."

Lazula drew Impetus from its sheath, positioning her feet and staring down her opponent.

"...After our warm-ups, of course!"

Lazula's shoulders sunk, and she sheathed her blade.

"Sure."

After a quick jog down to the water's edge and back, and a bit of dynamic stretching, Lazula and the rest of the Sparring Team returned to their room in the SFC. She had been sizing up Midas from the moment she agreed to warm up. She knew he fought with Resplendence, a halberd that unfolded into a bow, and channeled the electricity Midas produced with his semblance. He was well built but still looked nimble, and kept up with her on the run down to the water. He had a height advantage of over half a foot.

"By default, Sparring Team matches use a safety parameter of twenty percent. Is that alright?" Midas asked.

"Seems fair."

"Good." Midas pinched the screen he projected from his Holoband and flicked it upward. It hit a strange metallic structure suspended from the ceiling, and two screens flashed above the pair, displaying their names, pictures, and aura level.

Midas and Lazula took their places at opposing ends of the court. "It's too bad we're inside," Lazula said. "I'll have to hold back a bit if I don't want to break something."

Midas grinned. "I can hold back too! It's only fair."

Lazula shook her head. "That won't be necessary."

The excited buzz of the room quieted as a girl in robes of silvery blue stepped between them. "This is an impromptu sparring match between Team Captain Midas Baine, and challenger Lazula Skye," she announced. "The first combatant to decrease their enemy's aura level to twenty percent, or the combatant with highest aura level after five minutes, will be declared winner." She turned to Midas, then Lazula. "The match will begin after a ten second countdown."

As the clock began to count down, Lazula unsheathed Impetus, hearing the familiar, comforting sound of steel leaving its sheath. She pointed it at the ready, lowering her head.

As soon as she heard the tone, Lazula tore toward Midas. He stood his ground, halberd at the ready. Lazula smirked. "People should know by now that some attacks are just too strong to parry," she thought. She swung her blade across her body, but slashed through air.

Midas had spun around the side of her attack, and she felt a heavy strike down her back. Before she could turn, Midas spun his weapon and jabbed her spine, flinging her forward as she yelped with surprise and pain.

No one had hit her like that in a while, she recalled. Her first tournament? Or was it the second, over in Vacuo? It didn't matter now.

"No way! Look at her aura!" a voice called from the crowd.

"Ninety-five percent?! After a hit like that?"

She ducked under a slash parallel to the floor, pivoting into Midas and springing up with a vicious bash by Aegis. She slashed twice as he was knocked off balance, but her third swing was met by the shaft of his weapon. Cracking a grin, Midas channeled electricity down the length of his arm and into his weapon.

Lazula ripped Impetus away just as electricity began to course its way into Resplendence. She flung his weapon away and met him with an elbow to the chestplate before spinning and knocking him back with her shield. Midas slid backward, and used the distance between them to transform his weapon into a bow. He drew as Lazula ran forward, but at the last minute lowered his shot and let fly a bolt of lightning into Lazula's boots.

Electricity crackled across the ground as Lazula leapt over the attack, and crashed down on Midas with her blade. As his weapon rose to meet hers she channeled her semblance, taking his resistance into her own swing and amplifying it. Resplendence gave way, and Lazula slashed across his chest.

Midas's recovery was impressive. By the time Lazula swung back at him, he regained focus and parried her strike. A second and a third attack were met as well. Lazula took a split second to drop back and regain her focus before lunging at the golden-haired huntsman once more. "He's faster than me," Lazula realized. No matter how quickly she attacked, Midas's spinning of body and weapon alike caught her blade and tossed it back.

Finally, Impetus swung into Resplendence's axehead. Midas grinned, twisting his weapon until her blade was locked in his. Electricity crackled around him once more as Lazula attempted to rip her weapon free to no avail. She felt heat on her hands, then a seizing of her muscles, as if some searing entity inside of her arm controlled it from within. She let go of Impetus, and the Sparring Team scattered as the blade was flung their way. Midas turned and brought the head of Resplendence down on his unarmed foe.

Lazula blocked the attack with Aegis. Channeling as much of her semblance as she deemed safe, she wrenched her arm outward. Midas's armor crushed with the weight of her blow. He was flung back, providing Lazula an opening to retrieve Impetus.

She eyed the screen above her as she picked up her blade. She had been hit a few more times since, but her aura was still above ninety percent. Midas's hovered just over forty. The huntsman panted at the far side of the room, shoulders hunched. Letting out one last breath, he straightened and transformed Resplendence back into a bow.

Lazula raised Aegis to block a lightning bolt, then a second. She ran forward, keeping an eye out for more as she approached. She and Midas were locked in combat for several more seconds, before Midas ducked under one of her swings, and spun on the floor in an attempt to sweep her feet from under her.

Lazula buried Impetus's tip, vaulting over Midas's attack. She took its force into her blade and channeled it into her legs, blasting Midas with a potent kick to the gut. He rolled into the nearest wall, losing Resplendence. Lazula jumped after him, finishing their fight with a final strike.

The Sparring Team broke into hoots and cheers of excitement. With one foot on the ground, Lazula stepped on Midas's chestplate, bringing Impetus's tip dangerously close to his throat.

Her triumphant glare softened. She sheathed her weapon and extended a hand.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked as Midas took her hand. "That last hit was a bit much for how much aura you had left."

Midas met her worry with an easy smile as he walked over to grab Resplendence. "No need to worry about me, I'm durable!"

Lazula huffed in amusement. "You're not bad. That was fun." She looked to the crowd that began to fill the sparring court, then back to Midas. "How do I join the team?"

Midas shook his head with another smile.

"After a fight like that, you're in."

[horizonmoonfics]

Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, protected sex, riding, multiple orgasms, sub Jin because for some reason I couldn’t make him as dommy as I wanted to except this isn’t sub Jin because I can’t figure out how to write sub Jin, oral (f and m receiving), subtle sex joke (wow Jungkook so mature), slight overstimulation

The rain was coming down in sheets. People running into houses, into offices, into cafes. A dark haired woman held a book over her head, trying to protect her clothes. The book was wide enough that her efforts were successful. She stepped into a cafe with a sign on the front that labelled it as “The Magic Shop: You’ll Be Alright.” She scanned the room, her eyes landing on a group of three women. She grinned, and walked over to them. 

“So we finally got y/n out in public? I’m impressed.” The dark haired woman said with a small chuckle. 

“Don’t count on it happening again, I’m tired and I have homework.” You sigh, knowing that the threat of your upcoming deadlines is always in the back of your mind. 

“Well, we might have to let your grades slip a bit. When was the last time you met someone?” A lighter haired woman says, adjusting the sleeves of her blazer. 

“It hasn’t been that long…” You drift off, as the other three woman look at you, not believing a word you were saying. “Okay maybe it’s been a while. So what? I can take time to focus on my studies! That’s not a bad thing to want.”

“No it isn’t, however you were miserable after you broke up with that last guy. I can’t remember his name and no don’t you dare say it he is taboo. You spent three months sulking. And now you’re drowning yourself in essays. Take a freaking break girly,” the third woman says, hands on her hips.

“Melanie I am not drowning myself in essays! I only have three due this week-”

“And you had seven due in the past two days we are not taking any bullshit about not having much work.” The first woman places her phone down on the table and sighs. “We want you to go out more, to socialize. Maybe meet someone. At least revive your social life a little bit. Seeing someone who you can casually hook up with will be better than hiding in your room and only emerging for classes.”

“There is merit to Jenna’s words, y/n. Meet someone. Get dick. Don’t attach yourself if you don’t want to. Whatever. Just get out of the house.” Melanie said, then added, “but we should get coffee first. I mean, we’re here, aren’t we? It’s a coffee shop.”

The four women all laughed, then sent Jenna to grab a few drinks and some cookies. When she returned, they had their drinks and began to talk about what they’d been up to the past week. 

“Oh also, you know that new club that opened up on First Street? I went there with some classmates the other day. I may have met someone…” Melanie says with a wink. 

“Who? Who? Why haven’t we met him?” said the light haired woman, pouting in protest of the situation.

“Calm your tits Skylar, I’m about to tell you. His name is Kim Taehyung, he’s chill, and he’s pretty cute. He had three friends with him, I don’t remember their names though. And I’ve only known him three days, he hasn’t met anyone.” Melanie laughs, patting Skylar’s shoulder.

“I think we should pay that club a visit. What’s it called again?” Jenna says, genuine interest sparkling in her eyes.

“House of Cards. Do you have any reason in mind to go?” Melanie asks, but all four women already knew there was one reason to go. 

“No. No no no. I am not meeting your Kim Taehyung and his friends.” y/n says, wincing. “I do not go clubbing.”

“It’ll be fun! Let’s go.” Skylar gets up, grabbing your wrist. You reluctantly let her drag you to the door, with Melanie and Jenna trailing a few steps behind. 

Ten minutes later, you all step out of Skylar’s car and gaze up at the bright blue neon sign reading “House of Cards: Stay a Little Longer.” The rain has stopped, so none of you are worried about getting wet. You look around at the other three women and realize that none of you are really dressed up for the occasion, but Melanie says it doesn’t really matter, that she saw people in sweats the first time she went. The outside of the club looks like a mix of a cafe and a night club, and you’re not sure what to think. Curtains are visible through the windows on either side of the door, and the fabric has patterns of spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs. 

“You’ve been here multiple times?” Jenna asks, incredulous.

“Yeah, I went last night to catch up with Taehyung. We only stayed a few minutes…” Melanie trails off, looking at her phone. Probably texting Taehyung.

You walk inside, and the four of you surprisingly don’t stick out like a sore thumb. The interior of the club reminds you of a small cafe, with oak wood walls and small tables with a few chairs scattered around them. The bar is lit by small lamps, and the drinks you see people order range from coffee with so much cream it was white, to alcoholic drinks like whiskey and scotch.

A man with curly black hair sits at the bar and waves the four of you over. Six other men flank his sides.

“That’s Taehyung,” Melanie whispers to you, “I’m not entirely sure who the three on his right are, but the three on his left were there with him three days ago.” 

You nod, but you really could not care less. Your stomach is twisting, because you’ve realized that you have an essay due tomorrow that you forgot about. You figure it can wait though, because Skylar was right, you haven’t been out in a while. 

The four of you approach Taehyung, who stands up and hugs Melanie. 

“Hi, you three must be Melanie’s friends. I’m Kim Taehyung, and these six,” Taehyung gestured to the six men around him, “are my friends.”

The rest of the men introduce themselves. The guys on Taehyung’s left are Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, and Min Yoongi. The ones on his right are Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jungkook, and Kim Seokjin. Your eyes never linger for more than two seconds on each man when you’re introduced, but with Seokjin, you let your gaze focus on him for a little longer. The air around him seemed a little different than with the other guys to you, but you couldn’t place why. 

“He may have said my name is Seokjin, but you can call me Jin. Or Seokjin I guess. Your preference. Some people prefer whiskey to gin,” he says, winking. You chuckle at that. Maybe you can stand to be here a few more minutes. 

A few more minutes turns into two hours, when you find yourself on your third drink, laughing at another one of Jin’s stories about himself and his friends. His jokes and smile were more intoxicating than the alcohol you were consuming, and you were beginning to think that maybe your friends were right about the casual sex thing. Jin wasn’t just funny and charming, he was also extremely hot. You don’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but you caught yourself whispering to your friends that this guy was off limits to them. Melanie and Skylar both squealed, and Jenna simply whispered “I know there’s still condoms in your dresser. Go have some fun.”

While Jin was still turned towards Taehyung, you let yourself look at him a little more. He seemed to be pretty tall, though you hadn’t seen him standing yet. His shoulders were very broad, more so than his friends, which was intimidating in the best way. The black leather jacket he wore only made them seem wider. His eyes flashed when he spoke, not in an aggressive way, but you wondered what they’d be like if he was pissed off. His fingers were a little crooked, which only helped to fuel the small amount of fantasising you’d been doing for the past hour. He was wearing skinny jeans, but you hadn’t seen anything that they’d accent… yet. The night was still young, after all. 

“Melanie and I are going to head out and pick up her car, call it a night. It was nice meeting y’all though, I hope we can hang out again sometime.” Taehyung said, waving goodbye to you and your friends, as well as his friends. You and Skylar looked at Melanie questioningly, and she only grinned. You knew what that meant. Jenna was busy talking to Namjoon, and it seemed like they were going to head out to “pick up Jenna’s car” soon. 

You turned back to Jin to continue your conversation, and eventually Skylar leaves. Which means you no longer have a ride, since you came with her to the coffee shop as well as the club. Jungkook, Hoseok, and Yoongi eventually go home, leaving just you and Jin. Jungkook winks at Jin and nudges his thigh, where his phone is resting in his pocket, and whispers “good luck.” You aren’t supposed to hear it, but you do. You’re also aware that it’s his phone that you can see the outline of, not his dick. 

“It’s pretty late, I should probably be heading out.” You say, getting up to leave.

“Alright. Do you want a ride?” Jin asks, and you turn, puzzled. Maybe it wasn’t his phone…?

“I meant to your car. I’m assuming, since some of your friends were going back to pick theirs up, that you might have parked there?” he says, clearing your confusion.

“Ah. Skylar drove me, so I won’t be stopping there. I’ll probably call a cab.”

“Are you sure? I can drive you home if you want. You live near campus, I assume?” He starts pulling out his keys as you two walk out to the sidewalk.

You don’t admit that his offer is tempting, but you also remind yourself that you have an essay due the next day. Then again, the chances of getting a cab this late at night without using Uber or Lyft are pretty low. You’re torn, but by the time you’re about to say no, you’re already at his car.

“Alright. I do live near campus, actually, just a block from the Arts and Humanities wing. Thanks, by the way.” you say, as he opens the passenger side door for you.

“Of course, wouldn’t want you to walk, especially with the recent weather. Plus, I live around there too, so I can just drop you off if you want.” He seems like a true gentleman, and you can’t tell if Jungkook’s earlier comment was serious or not. It’s obvious to you that just a drop off won’t be enough to satiate you tonight, but you can’t tell if he’d want that too. 

A few minutes later, you arrive at your apartment. Jin walks you to your door, and you turn to thank him again.

“Hey, thanks again. Do you want to come in for coffee before you take off again? I have a bag of ground coffee that I have to finish off, if you want some.” you’re being entirely serious about the coffee, but you’re also implying something that hopefully Jin will catch. He agrees to come in, and you lead him upstairs. 

A few minutes later, you two are talking a bit over coffee and cookies. He mentions that he hasn’t been in a real relationship in a while, and you say you’re in that same position. He chuckles and says, “so you’ve been hooking up with random people almost every week as well? Kinda finding that hard to believe after tonight. But I don’t know, you could surprise me.”

You stare blankly at him. The past ten minutes you’ve been not-so-subtly glancing at his torso, which is covered by his jacket, but that jacket is likely hiding abs. He’s hot enough that he probably has them. Those ten minutes could have changed his perspective of you, but you also spent two hours firmly telling yourself “no hookups today.” Something about being in the House of Cards with him seems to have changed your mind though.

“I mean. No, I haven’t been hooking up with people almost every week. Actually I don’t think I’ve had sex in a few months…” you trail off, realizing that Jin was probably joking. You look at his face, and he looks dead serious. You gulp, because that was actually a kind of hot expression. 

“Really? I don’t mean to be rude or to judge you on looks, but you’ve had to had sex with at least one person. Kind of surprised that no one tried to steal your attention from our group at the bar, not going to lie. Not that it’s a bad thing, I liked talking to you for, how long was it, two hours?” He says, which surprises you. Did he just call you hot? Or at least mildly attractive? And did he just say he enjoyed your company?

“No offense taken, I think I was giving off a vibe when I was there. Kept telling myself that Skylar’s idea of me finding someone to hook up with wasn’t a goal for today.” You say, blushing. 

“Damn. I mean, if that’s not a goal, that’s chill, but like. When you go to a club with friends, and you’re not drinking away sadness... Wouldn’t you want to hook up with someone?” Jin looks quizzical, and you realize he’s not entirely wrong. 

“True… Then again, I only talked to you. So… maybe people saw that and thought ‘ah, she’s spoken for.’”

“...Would you want to be spoken for?” Jin asks, his voice dipping an octave lower. He’s figured out that you didn’t just invite him in for coffee. His eyes narrow, semi-seductively, and you blush harder.

“Maybe... Would you like to speak for someone?” you counter, and he grins. 

“Why not?”

And then he’s come around the table, while you’re getting up from your seat. He takes you by the waist, pulling you to him. You gasp, surprised.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you nod. He tilts his face towards yours, and you lift yours towards him. His lips part for a second, and then he kiss you. It’s soft, but urgent. He tastes like gin (lol) and vanilla, which seems fitting. The kiss is slow, but you want more. You put a hand on his hip and bring him closer, inviting him. He smiles, and you open your mouth a bit. He slips his tongue in, and you almost moan. You start to pull him towards your bedroom, and the kiss begins to get needier. He pushes you against the wall, and you two kiss until you can’t breathe. Gasping for air, you drag him into the bedroom and push him onto the bed, kissing him again. You begin making out, both of you moaning softly. You missed stuff like this, you realize, as you chase his lips. He flips you over, and you tangle your hands in his long, black hair. He pulls away, and you wish he hadn’t, but then he takes off his jacket and his shirt, and you’re suddenly glad he did. Because Jin? He has abs. And he looks sexy without a shirt. You pull him down onto you again, and roll over to straddle him. You both fumble to take off the rest of your clothes, and you discover that he is hard. Eventually, you’re both laying on the bed, you in your black lingerie and him in his boxers, both trying to catch your breath, deciding whether to go through with this. Running your hand over his abs, you shiver, trying to take in all of him at once.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, and you snap back to your senses.

“Yeah, an entire box in fact.” you both laugh, and you get up to grab one. Or two. You don’t know how many you’ll need. 

“Hope you’re okay with king size, it’s the only size I have right now.”

“Yeah, it’s the uh. The only size I fit…” he sounds kind of embarrassed, and you turn around to see him propped up on one arm, gazing at you sheepishly. You grin and say, “well, at least you fit into it. My ex didn’t but was convinced he could, so he never had anything smaller. It’s a wonder they never fell off.”

Jin laughs at this, and you walk back over to the bed, pushing him down as you straddle him again. You open the wrapper, and start to push down his boxers. He lets you, seeming to enjoy how forward you are. 

And then you see it. His cock in all of its king-sized glory. Even though he’s hard, it’s not standing straight up, bending a little bit due to its weight. You suck in a breath, wondering how he concealed it with the jeans he was wearing. Wide-eyed, you look back up at him, and he cracks a small grin. “Like what you see?”

“Hell yeah I do,” you say, then put the condom aside. You have to suck him, you just are not ready for him to stretch you yet. 

“Wait what are you doing… O h. Oh I see.” He seems confused, then realizes you’re moving to put your head at level with his hips. He smiles again, and says “you don’t have to do this you know, I feel like you’ve been wanting something else all night.”

“Yeah, but there’s no way I can do something like ride you knowing that I didn’t suck you off first. So just sit back and take it baby, because I’m not doing anything else until I do this.”

He sucks in a breath, and you see his dick twitch. You smile, realizing that you have him in the palm of your hand. Not just literally. You pick up his cock and begin stroking it. His head tilts back, and you look up to see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes closed. That’s when you realize your panties are almost soaked from all the making out you did, and that they’re probably going to be completely ruined if he keeps doing that. 

“Oh god that feels good,” Jin half-moans, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s going to sound when it’s your mouth around him. You squeeze him gently and he moans even louder. You kiss his shaft, and he begins to grip the sheets, clearly loving every second of this. 

“Ready?” you say, and then kiss the tip, getting a loud moan in response. 

“Please just suck me already, holy fu-” he cuts off when you put your mouth around him, taking him as deep as possible. He groans loudly, and you pop your mouth off. When you take him back in, he puts his hand on the back of your head, not wanting you to stop again. And you don’t. 

The more you suck him, the louder he gets. You hollow out your cheeks every so often, making him growl in pleasure. His fingers are tangled in your hair, and you cradle his balls with your right hand. He lets out a small whimper when you squeeze lightly, and that whimper turns into an even louder moan when you swallow around his dick.

“FUCK oh my GOD. Fu-uck… You’re so good at this- baby.” he moans, lightly pushing your head down. He almost loses it when you begin deepthroating him, hands gripping your hair and the sheets even harder. His moans turn you on even more, and you almost soak your panties when you look up and see his face. He looks so turned on, so ready to come all over your face because of how good your mouth feels around him. 

“Y/n I’m so close. Oh my god so- fuck -so close… Fuck your mouth feels so good…” he moans, and you bob your head faster. He lets out a groan so deep it sounds like a growl, and you smile softly. 

“Oh fuck I’m going to cum. You might want to- fuck -move your head if you don’t want- oh fuck -to swallow.” he moans, and you smile, knowing you were going to swallow anyways. Then he cums, loudly, moaning as he watches you swallow all of it. You lick his shaft to clean up the rest of his cum, and he whimpers quietly from overstimulation. 

“That was so hot,” he says as you stand up to his face level, “so, so hot.”

He kisses you, tongue in your mouth. You push him onto the bed and he says, “can I return the favor?”

“Fuck. Yeah, you can. Oh fuck that’s going to be hot” you say. He gets off the bed and kneels in front of you, pulling your panties down. He smirks when he sees how wet you are, then begins kissing your thighs. He trails his lips up towards your center, and then kisses above your clit. He’s teasing you, and as much as you want to push his head into you and let him do whatever he wants, you like the teasing. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, as a precaution. You say yes, because you’re dripping on the bed and he looks so good right now that you can’t really imagine saying no. He smirks again, then goes straight for you. 

The things his tongue and lips do to you aren’t anything you’ve experienced before, seeing as all your exes were horrible at oral. He licks everywhere he can reach, teeth grazing against you slightly, making you shiver. You begin to see stars when he starts sucking on your clit, and the moan you let out just encourages him.

“Jin… Oh my god keep going. Fu-uck oh my GOD” you moan out, and he sucks even harder. The more aggressively he eats you out, the louder you moan, until you’re almost screaming from the pleasure. Your climax washes over you quickly after approaching slowly, and you don’t even realize you’ve squirted until you see his face. 

“Damn. That was hot as fuck,” he says, looking up at you, grinning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever. Done that before…” you say, and he chuckles.

“Well in that case, I hope you’re up for doing that more, because I’m told oral isn’t my strong suit, and if eating you out made you squirt…” he trails off, and you gape at him, shocked. 

“Who the fuck told you that oral wasn’t your strong suit? That was the best oral I’ve ever fucking recieved.” you say, and drag him back onto the bed, straddling him while rolling on the condom. 

“Some girl I can’t really remember. I don’t think she told me her name. She liked riding me a lot more though, so maybe she’s just not an oral person.” 

“That could be true, but maybe your dick just feels even better than your tongue. Only one way to find out…” you wink, and he puts his hands on your waist, voice lowering to a sexy whisper, “Then let’s find out. Ride me.”

And that’s all you need before you sink onto him. You grip onto his shoulders as he fills you, both of you gasping, him because he didn’t realize just how tight you are, and you because he feels even bigger than he looks. He gives you a minute to adjust, murmuring sweet nothings against the skin of your neck, where he’s buried his face. You begin bouncing on him, and he holds your waist even tighter than before. He begins to gently thrust up into you, and you moan as he goes deeper. Your eyes close, and you see stars again from the sheer pleasure of the whole situation. You barely register the sounds of his moans underneath you, until you hear him tell you he’s about to cum. You bounce even faster, hearing him groan louder, and then he suddenly snaps his hips against you and you clench in surprise. You both moan out, because you’re both so close. He buries his face against your chest and begins thrusting faster, and this action sends you completely over the edge. You tilt his face towards yours and kiss him as you orgasm, the gentleness of his lips on yours helping you get through it. When you clench from aftershocks, he groans against your mouth and you feel him release into the condom.

Jin lifts you off his lap and lays you on the bed, and you pull him down next to you.

“Do you want me to stay for a few minutes?” Jin asks, still the gentleman he was when you entered the apartment.

“Yeah. That would be nice.” you want him to stay for longer, but you figure he probably has somewhere to be in the morning. You’re going to take the day off, you have a headache from the alcohol (when was the last time that happened?), and you know you’re going to be sore from the two amazing orgasms you just had. You pull Jin closer to your body, and let him cuddle you. You fall asleep in his arms, not even thinking about how you’re both laying there naked, or about the essays you had due. You feel warm and fuzzy, and you can’t tell if that’s just the alcohol after effects, or if it’s a post-orgasm haze. Either way, you feel better knowing you’re falling asleep with Jin. Maybe your friends were right about meeting people to get out of your sadness. 

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You look around and notice that Jin’s jacket is still on the floor next to your bed, and you wonder if he left without it. You’re about to get out of bed when the door opens.

“Oh hey, you’re awake. I made breakfast, it’s pancakes. Your pancake mix was a week from expiring so I figured, why not use it before it goes bad? If that’s okay.” Jin smiles at you, and you feel a rush of happiness that he didn’t leave.

“Ah, I forgot I had that pancake mix. Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem! I also made coffee. Do you take sugar with it? I can’t really remember from last night.”

“Yeah, two sugars please. I’ll be out in a minute.”

You slide out of bed, putting on a lavender bathrobe. You walk out to the small kitchen, and you’re immediately hit with the amazing scent of pancakes and strawberries. Jin is stirring a cup of coffee, and he hands it to you. You take a sip, and realize that it’s somehow even better than the normal coffee you have. You blush, thinking I could really get used to this. You stiffen, then think, get ahold of yourself y/n, he just made you breakfast and coffee. He’s not like, your new boyfriend or anything. Calm yourself. 

About ten minutes of comfortable silence later, you both finish breakfast, and head back to the bedroom so Jin can get his jacket and phone. Once you get there, however, you don’t really want him to leave, but you force yourself to let him go. After all, it was a one night stand, wasn’t it?

“I have a class I have to go to, so I have to head out. Maybe I’ll see you around? Here’s my number.” Jin says, writing his phone number on a piece of paper on your desk. You smile, and ask for his phone to give your contact information. As he walks into the elevator outside your door, he turns and blows a kiss, and you smile and pretend to catch it. You both laugh as the elevator doors close, and you’re left with a sense that this may not be the end of your encounter with Jin.

Maybe this meeting new people thing isn’t going to be so bad.

[gurguliare]

I was asked for “Teru” and “brainwashed Teru” so brainwashed Teru you shall have*

*actually not much good brainwashed Teru content, this is just kind of pathetic and only optimistically gay, spoilers through the end of the manga

“Kageyama,” said Teru warmly, hanging off the doorknob in what he hoped was a posture as casual as it was door-barring. “What a pleasure to have you on the threshold of my home. May I ask---yes, I think I may, if you’ll give me just a moment---what pleasure it is? That is...” He stopped to think. “Why?”

He had the feeling that, as a welcome, this short speech left something to be desired. Fortunately, Kageyama made a principle of second chances. Kageyama had a foot wedged between door and doorframe, true, and a foot swathed in psychic iridescence, no less, but that didn’t mean Kageyama wasn’t forgiving. It just meant he didn’t want his foot crushed by any untoward accidents of a door-slamming variety. And who could blame him? 

“Make yourself at home,” Teru said, putting more weight on the door. Out of the corner of his mouth, through gritted teeth, he heard himself add, “Sorry. I ate something that disagreed with me.”

Kageyama, who had been staring in some fascination at the increasingly distorted barrier around his foot, finally lost patience and drove open the door. It was nice to see how comfortable he had become with the use of his power, since razing a third of the city on his way to be rejected by his crush. Not that Teru could actually see much from his new position sandwiched between the door and the wall. 

“I didn’t know you drew,” said Kageyama, staring at the papers spread out on the living room floor. Teru squeezed out from behind the door and put a sheepish hand on the back of his neck.

“Yes, well, I’ve heard creative ‘play’ can be useful in unearthing suppressed memories. Also, I ate some old candy I had lying around and my hand started moving of its own accord.”

Kageyama hadn’t moved any deeper into the room. Framed by a view of the concrete balcony, backlit by white midday sky, he looked more than usually forbidding. True, his hoodie showed some kind of smiling egg, and both shoes were untied, but any esper worth their salt would have felt healthy concern at the heat-haze of an aura smearing the air above his head. It was a pity that Teru couldn’t convince himself the instinct to fight was a byproduct of such ordinary, rational concerns. Instead, he wanted to throw Kageyama over the railing because a trace amount of broccoli in his digestive tract had told him to.

Kageyama actually looked frustrated; he had a fist to his forehead, like he was getting an ice cream headache. “Why would you eat the candy? You knew what it was.”

“Did I?” Teru strolled to the couch and flopped down, careful not to disturb his sketches. He gestured expansively to Kageyama, who ignored the gesture---to be fair, he was taking his shoes off---and crouched in socks beside Teru’s taped-together approximation of the Divine Tree. “How could I know what it was when I had no memory of receiving, eating, or experiencing malign consequences from that candy? I don’t like having my mind tampered with. Believe me, I tried a number of other ways of removing the block first, but when all else failed... yes, I admit it. I took the candy on purpose. It tasted terrible.”

“So did it work?”

“I’m not sure. I mostly seem to have unearthed assembly instructions for a cult. A cult I was part of?” Kageyama watched him with fixed attention, not even pretending to understand. Kageyama knew that Teru wanted to attack him---a jump to conclusions Kageyama previously avoided even when Teru did things like levitate knives.  “It couldn’t be that you remember this mysterious event, could it? Kageyama is always extraordinary, but even so...”

“I can’t remember anything much,” said Kageyama bluntly. “But Dimple told me all about it after he came back. He said he went really overboard, and to say ‘sorry, kid’ to Hanazawa if I saw you. Which now I have. Actually, I wasn’t going to bring it up, since I thought it might confuse you, but I guess I shouldn’t have worried. You’re very resourceful.”

“Eh...” Teru steepled his fingers, frustrated. “Why is the candy still effective? It’s been months.”

“Yeah... about that... I don’t think it would have worked on just anybody. Hanazawa is special, because the broccoli absorbed your energy and it still remembers you. Um, that doesn’t sound good. It’s using your energy to revive, even though without the tree the broccoli powder is mostly just dust. So... you’re probably getting tired...”

That’s right, Teru said to himself. The sweat was pouring down his face.

“Is there some way I can stop it?”

“Is it that bad? Sorry,” Kageyama said hastily, when Teru made an abortive motion with his hand. “I know it’s annoying. I didn’t like when Dimple tried to do it to me either. But I was thinking, if you lie down... Then you’ll have an easier time digesting. I guess.” He looked so suddenly and vividly unsure that Teru kind of wanted to pinch his cheeks. Was that aggression?

“Can Dimple stop it?”

“Would it be okay with you if he did?” said Kageyama, eyes back on the floor. “Oh, but he can’t, though. He lost control of the tree after he renounced godhood. That’s why I thought he was dead for a while.”

Teru lay down, as suggested. His hair flattened under his ears in a comforting cushion. It had been a good decision to grow it out, after all. Warm ears were more important than being visually distinguishable from photos of yourself taken ten months ago. To his surprise, Kageyama got up and sat on the arm of the couch, posture a lot stiffer than his choice of seat would imply. He said again, “Sorry. It seems like it’s bothering you a lot. I don’t really get why, though.” 

"...” said Teru, and rested his forearm on top of his wet face, and used that as an excuse to peer at Kageyama, who from below was almost all neck. And pasty. But, thought Teru sadly, the egg hoodie really suited him, what with how it filled out his shoulders, and besides, Kageyama was always handsome, even when his features were barely visible above a shelf of cheek. Just because he was an ordinary person, like Teru, didn’t mean he wasn’t handsome. It was a shame. 

Kageyama reached down and moved Teru’s arm off his face with one finger, sort of delicately. He might not have wanted to get sweat on the rest of his hand. When Teru still stayed mum, he said, “It’s just that I wonder why you mind it so much, if your plan worked. Dimple said you were hard to brainwash the first time, he had to give you ‘root therapy.’ Which sounds bad. But now you’re not in the tree, so it’s not that difficult for you to fight it, I thought. Is that not right? You’re not even telling me about that so-called god.”

“Lord Psycho Helmet,” Teru murmured. “No, that’s right. I’m... I’m very...” He pinched his nose and continued in a slightly more nasal tone. “I don’t like other people doing forbidden things. For example, brainwashing. So I made sure to strengthen my will, so I could stop such people. Right now I’m angry, which makes it especially easy to overcome the influence. But if I stop being angry...”

“Oh.”

“Also, the memories I got back weren’t quite worth it,” Teru said. “Just another blunder on my part---I shouldn’t have been fighting you.”

There was a long silence. “I think that was okay, wasn’t it?” Kageyama frowned. “Because... if you hadn’t, then... you would have been even less prepared to help me. Later. Since I know you always learn from your opponents when you fight.”

Kageyama occasionally brought up the events of his psychic rampage with an awkward, determined precision, as if willing his audience to believe that he remembered, in detail, everything that followed him being hit by a car. So it was surprising to hear him say, ‘Later,’ with a wistful blankness in his face. It cheered Teru up, against his better judgment. “I was prepared,” he said. “I won that one, didn’t I?”

“That’s not really...”

“I’m sure I won. I saved all those people. So perhaps you’re right and it was worth being blown out of the water a second time. Well, well. But I still have to stay angry for another 6-8 hours, and that’s harder to do if we play Risk,” unless he happened to lose at Risk, but Kageyama still showed a limiting tendency to hoard Argentina, “so, begging your pardon---would you leave?”

“Um, well...” Kageyama leaned back, clinging to the couch-arm for balance, and almost tipped over anyway. Teru didn’t get up to make room, since this way there was a microscopic chance Kageyama would fall on top of him. “You texted me,” Kageyama said. 

“I what?”

“Look.” Kageyama thrust his phone into Teru’s eyes; the screen seemed excessively bright, not to mention low-res. 🥦 🥦 🥦 Come over, Kageyama! I have something I really want to talk to you about. It’s very important to me. Afterwards we can play Risk! 🥦 🥦 🥦 🥦 🥦 🥦

“Your phone doesn’t have emojis?” Teru said, shocked.

“Was it not you who sent this?”

“Not really. I probably succumbed for a second to the desire to spread the good word of Lord Psycho Helmet.”

“Yes, but don’t you think maybe... that desire was really sincere? I mean, to have me come over and talk to you?” Before Teru could decide against pointing out that not every repressed desire needed to be validated---not, say, if it had been implanted from without by an alien consciousness---Kageyama plowed on: “And it’s not good to be angry for such a long time.” This much he said firmly, and for a moment looked grimmer than Teru had seen since they met in the hollowed trunk of the broccoli. Was he remembering his battle with Suzuki, high above the city? The raging storm of self-feeding emotion that almost carried him out of any other person’s reach? “Master Reigen says that stress can shorten a person’s lifespan.”

Oh, it was just interpersonal advice. Also valuable, of course, especially from an adult of Reigen’s seasoned wisdom. “Okay,” Teru agreed. “But what’s the alternative? If you stay, I don’t want to end up getting blasted off a roof again. No offense. If you go, I can just sit and be brainwashed, even if I don’t like it.”

Kageyama didn’t suggest that he use a more positive emotion to fuel his psychic resistance. “I could take away some of your power,” he said. “For a bit. Enough that the candy wouldn’t have anything to work with. Only if you want, though.”

He really didn’t want. At least---surely it was better to have your powers turned against you than to have no power at all? But no, he reminded himself. That was wrong. His powers were useful, but they weren’t necessary. Well, at times they were necessary. But it seemed they were necessary to create problems they then solved, so...

And it would be a learning experience.

He sat up. “How does this work?” he said. Kageyama shrugged and took his hand, so Teru sank back into the couch cushions and practiced his most effortlessly natural demeanor, while yellow-green aura snaked out of his arm and wrist. Before long he could feel the pressure on his thoughts relax. Everything else seemed to relax, too, the whole compression-sleeve of strength that held his powerful musculature and innards put: he was shaking a little, he felt queasy. But to his surprise, it wasn’t so bad. That’s right, he thought---it was like this before, when I met Kageyama. Not the boy in the training yard, but the other one, a bleeding shadow. He had never doubted that they were the same person. Still, it surprised him lately to look at his friend and see, quite clear in the puffy face, that striking presence. Kageyama wasn’t really more emotive than before; not most of the time. When he did happen to make a previously unheard-of expression, his face transformed with a kind of impatience, like it couldn’t wait to change.

[ificanwriteiscannon]

Dynasty –Ferdia Walsh-Peelo Imagine

Pictures are not mine, just got them on google and put them together. 

This came to me when wacthing a brazilian soap opera and mathoning Vikings after. Hope it doesnt sucks

ps: english is not my first language so sorry if you find any mistake <3

Warning: talk about reincarnation, past lives and things like that but not too much tho

-x-

It started like a feeling, small butterflies in her stomach. She still remembered the first day she felt it, it was just her first day on set.

“I still can’t believe I’m here Alex” Y\N whispered excitedly to her old friend “That WE are here. It’s what we dreamed, remember?!”

The actor laughed and hugged his friend by his side “Of course I remember Y\N! Who would had thought that we’d be here”

She was the camera assistant and he the actor. It was the begging of their journey and they were at the tv show of the moment.

The scene was to be filmed in the insides of a castle. A scene where Ivar played chess with prince Alfred. The whole situation gave Y\N a sense of familiarity. ‘You’ve been here before. You lived this..’ Something yelled inside her. But still she wasn’t prepared to listen.

It wasn’t until the young actor entered. Her eyes searched for him, but when she localized him she felt disappointed. ‘It is not him’ the same small voice said.

The camera girl played with the book in her hands, the next time it happened.

When she was hired to work at the show something ignited inside her and her curiosity and passion for those old times consumed almost all of her free time. But still, a character seemed to be the point of most interest…

“Lunch break my lady?” Alex. The actor bowed in front of her still in his Ivar clothes. She chuckled. It was amazing how he could go from scary bloody Viking to the small puppy she called friend.

“Sure” Y\N closed her book and left with her belongs getting up from the common area they had for the crew. “So,..” She started while they walked to get their lunch “Have you meet the new addictions to the cast?”

“Why do I always get a feeling you’re waiting for someone?”  Alex raised an eyebrow and the girl rolled her eyes

“Well, you know I’ve always been a sucker for Jonathan Rhys Meyers” She shrugged but he still gave her a suspicious look.

“Why I don’t…” Alex’s voice disappeared from her ears when she found him in the middle of the people. It was a time stopping moment. His gaze was fixed in another actor at his side while the other said something that made him laugh. His laughter died as soon as he found her eyes.. Both trapped in each other, unable to move.

‘Forever and Always, my love’

He broke the trance as he got up, her eyes had gone wild and when he moved to approach, she ran on the opposite direction. Something in him scared her, but still every cell in her body begged that she stayed.

After that encounter she learned that he was the actor that would be playing Alfred, The great. Only her biggest obsession. Alex tried to ask Y\N why she ran without an explanation, but she couldn’t explain. It was just her messed up head, she said.

‘He came back to me’.

A few days passed and Y\N had managed to avoid the actor as far as she could. Still, watching him work proved one of the hardest tasks she had to do. The camera assistant got 3 advertences from her superiors for almost ruining some scenes. His scenes. One of those times, she swore she saw Jennie nudge him and whisper something to Ferdia, and he just blushed. His eyes never left hers.

The next time it happened it came at night at a dream. She had those kind of dreams before but none had felt that real. It was a walk down a garden, or a ride in a horse, but not like this. She could still feel the sweet texture of the white and golden dress between her fingers, her long hair falling in her shoulders and the veil in her head.

“You look beautiful, my love. Not even the brightest star could make you justice” His voice filled her ears while his hands held her against his body. The room was filled with their presence and only the candles illuminated them. His eyes sparkled and the blue pulled and hypnotised her and she felt like falling. But if this was falling, she would do it gladly.

“I love you my king” She half moaned when his lips touched her neck.

“And I you my queen. I shall love until my dying day and beyond..”

Y\N woke up with a gasp and her hand had gone to her chest. Her heart beating at an alarming pace. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning she called Rita. An college friend that she remembered talking about reincarnation and stuff like that.. According to her, Y\N was having regressions. Something like reviving something she lived in a past life.

“Well, for all that seems to me Y\N, you and this colleague of yours were married. You should totally talk to him, he is your past life great love. He can be your soulmate! This is totally destiny.. Oh this is so cute, please tell me more!” Y\N rolled her eyes while Rita let out little giggles already planning their spring wedding

“I have to go Rita, thank you for the help, see yaa” Ignoring her old college friend’s protests, she hang up her phone. “Soulmate, my ass” A small knock on the door alarmed her and she jumped in her seat

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” Y\N opened her mouth but her voice kept stuck on her throat “Alex couldn’t make it so he asked me to make you company for lunch. I mean, you d-don’t have to go.. He just said you didn’t like to eat alone and I thought.. I mean,..”

While hearing him stutter Y\N couldn’t help but smile. He was just as nervous around her as she was around him. In that moment she wondered if he also had the strange feelings and dreams she had.

“I would love to have lunch with you Ferdia” She smiled and he accompanied her while extending his hand to help her stand.

Since that lunch the two became incredibly close, to a point where Alex had a best friend\ big brother talk with his colleague. Y\N rolled her eyes at that and repeated the ‘we’re just friends’ excuse that became like a second nature to them. They walked hand in hand, Y\N helped Ferdia with his lines, they messed around in set and Alex even captured a precious moment while they cuddled in one of the sofas in the common area, using the picture as a proof to his point. Jennie declared that her biggest ship was the two of them, making Ferdia’s cheeks rosy while he lowered his gaze. ‘We’re just friends, guys’

“What are we going to watch?” The actor asked coming from his kitchen with a bowl with popcorn in his hands

“Ghost” Y\N replied getting a handful of popcorn

“Oh c’mon Y\N, we need to upgrade our standards here. It’s the third movie night with a cheesy romantic movie”

“Hey!” She punched him in the shoulder and they laughed “I love that movie, ok?”

“I like it too, but you promised a scary movie night” He arched his eyebrow, letting go of the bowl, he tickled her

“OK, OK, OK WE CAN WATCH SOMETHING ELSEE”  Y\N moved trying to escape from his arms. Their laughter died slowly and she found herself under him, trapped. His blue eyes consuming her. “Do you believe in past lives?” Ferdia chuckled sitting back

“From all the things I prepared for to answer you, that was not one of them”

“Sorry, never mind.., let’s just choose another movie ok? How about Nightmare on Elm street?” She tried to get up from the sofa but Ferdia held her wrist

“Can we talk about us?” He seemed unsure, almost as if he was scared to speak

“Us?”

“Look, I know you see me just as a friend, but I..”

“I don’t “ Y\N whispered with her eyes on the ground

“W-what?” The actor closed the small distance between them. He sat closely at her side, his orbs fixed on her, his knees touching hers’.

“I-I don’t see you just as a friend. I never did, I guess.. I just never gave too much thought about it. We do work together after all.. Things could get complicated and..” She could feel her heart beating so fast that hurt her chest. But before she could finish her sentence, Ferdia moved. His hands turned her face to him and caressed her cheeks. Her words died and none came from him either. When the tip of his finger touched her lower lip dedicatedly, she closed her eyes. It felt so familiar. His touch calmed her in a way nothing ever did. She missed this her whole life.

‘You lived this. You loved him. You still love him’

His lips touched hers and what started as an innocent unsure kiss, became heated and passionate. It was like coming home after a long journey.  

“I love you my king” Y\N said when they rested their foreheads against each other after the kiss. Ferdia smiled giving her a small peck on her lips

“And I you my queen”

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p16 reaction

Reaction under the cut!

Still in the process of, well, processing the defeat of Lord English and all those deaths.

I wonder if, through some esoteric means, Jade's body would be used by Caliborn to try and escape his fate. She's an ex-First Guardian, so he might have a connection to her body. Plus, if that would happen, that would be the final time the wolf head could be connected to LE - since Jade's half dog.

Blaperile thought also of the server representing LE's DNA, running somewhere in the Furthest Ring. Maybe that fell into the Black Hole too, though?

I wonder what is even going to happen to John now. I mean, he still has the Ring of Life, someone could find him and put it on his finger. Someone like Terezi. It could be Meenah as well, in an ultimate sacrifice - she once said she'd run him through again to steal his ring, but maybe she'll sacrifice her chance at life for him. Some form of ultimate redemption for the Condesce, in a way.

If Terezi finds him, odds are she'll have found out about Vriska somehow. :/ I doubt any ghosts are left in the Furthest Ring on the one hand. On the other hand, we haven't seen any mention of any of the other trolls mentioned in the character list. Nor of GO Vriska & Terezi, though they might have double died through the cracks that encroached on them.

A third option to find John is Aradia - since she was so intent on witnessing the end of Paradox Space and seeing what'd happen if the place came falling apart.

Or maybe John will have some sort of vision, like a special afterlife, with his Dad there, before he wakes up / revives? I can only hope.

I doubt the Ring is multi-use, but if it were, it would sure be something if Meenah could be revived as well as John! And for Aradia and Terezi (and Meenah?) to come back with him to Earth C, now there's nothing left in the Furthest Ring for them. If Meenah came to Earth C, the Crocker run for president would have some serious competition! :P Not that I'd really root for Meenah to win, though, since she's quite clearly unfit to lead a country, only a strike force.

I've also got to wonder how long Andrew has been planning to have Davesprite be the one to kill Lord English? I'm sure much of what Davepeta became grew organically, as well as the other components of Lord English, but it seems to me the Davesprite part was always planned. But he sure is a master of tying in later details into the evolving story.

Like, for instance, LE biting Dave's head off reminds me of Hearts Boxcars doing the same for Eggs. Dave and eggs...

So, it was all doomed and retconned selves that were instrumental in bringing down Lord English, you know. John is pre-retcon, the other B2 kids came from a temporary offshoot. Tavros was also pre-retcon. Meenah came from a scratched session. Davesprite was doomed. All those troll ghosts were doomed. Alternate Calliope was doomed. The only exception is the Nepeta part of Davepeta, and she was so irrelevant to the timeline's major events before her prototyping as to almost not count. These were the glitches in spacetime that could kill Lord English. It's fitting, since Lord English was so focused on the main timeline and being the 'alpha', that he couldn't see where his 'doom' would come from.

Anyway. The page ended with a command to John, so I'm rather convinced the next page will continue from John's perspective.

---

"ROSE: When I was a child, I wrote a novel." Well, never mind!

Well, okay, I guess that, even though John's perspective has just ended in what could have been the ending of Homestuck, I would very much like to learn more about Complacency of the Learned and its potential ramifications as to the rest of the plot! Guess now's the moment to find out why the story isn't ending just yet.

"She has both hands resting on the chassis of his recent project, Sawtooth 3.1." Soooo... Was Sawhoo supposed to be Sawtooth 2.0? :P I wonder what improvements Dirk could be implementing. Also, whether he ever intends to use the rapbot on his show. I get a feeling most of the robots there never leave novice mode, actually.

"DIRK: Another one of those Lalonde childhood wizard fics, I presume?" Yeah, now I'm reminded of Wizardy Herbert, Roxy's supposed work. I never did get through that draft of it Andrew wrote all those years prior, I got to admit.

I'm guessing Rose has found a way to connect her old fic to the grander context of canon, realizing some of the stuff she put into the story came from her aspect?

"With the sunset behind her she’s a shadow ringed in yellow light that turns white at the tips of her hair." Pfff, circumstantial simultaneity strikes again! That's just like how Reload Rose looked. Alternatively, she has a bit of a halo right now.

"ROSE: It’s more raw. It betrays considerably more sincerity than my young self was surely ever aware of stitching into the prose." Hah, guess Rose was not as good at hiding her own feelings as she tried back then, hiding behind that passive-aggressiveness.

I wonder if this is Andrew talking about how some of his early work, maybe even early Homestuck, was a lot closer to his heart than the epic story it grew into, despite said level of epicness.

"ROSE: It meant something." Maybe adult Rose's work was too polished, too betraying of her literacy and a bit removed from the essence of what she was trying to say. That could be due to its nature as anti-propaganda aimed against Condesce.

"DIRK: Hmm." There Dirk goes again, with the autoresponder-enabling short responses.

"ROSE: For all its plainly evident amateurism as the literary product of a child, I’ve come to believe it’s a much stronger work standing alone as a single volume, its meaning and symbolism potently compressed, and its message shining through more nakedly, undisguised by the cleverness of a more seasoned writer." Again, Andrew comparing Team Special Olympics and such things to his later work?

"The plot concerns the machinations of twelve wizard children." Oh, I thought it was focused on twelve adult wizards, including Zazzerpan?

"ROSE: It isn’t their intent to commit atrocities, or within their nature to do so originally. They become corrupted by an overabundance of knowledge. The kind never meant for the mortal mind to grasp." They went grimdark. :P Also, I suppose this leads into Rose's misgivings regarding the ultimate self.

"ROSE: It certainly wasn’t the most fucked up thing I’ve ever written." ... Oh right, the MEOW code. Yeah, that must take 1st place.

"as if I were pulling inspiration from beyond myself—channeling the story, rather than writing it." Almost as if she got it from the Void more even than her then-latent aspect!

"spiderwebs of gold that dissolve into dust" ... Really, sure, go ahead, keep rubbing salt into that wound. :P

"ROSE: You could almost call the process... [...] She’s smirking now, just a little." Brace for pun-pact!

"ROSE: ...enlightened." Eyyyyy!

"

DIRK: It also sounds like it’s the opposite of what was going on?" Dirk also thinks it sounds more like a Void thing?

"DIRK: Sounds more like you were trapped in a sort of dire creative fugue state causing you to chart your own mental profile using metaphor revolving around murderous, omniscient children." ... So that's where the locquacious genes came from. Also in-deep-analysis.

"ROSE: Well, consider the playful pun rescinded.

ROSE: Apologies for diminishing your presence with my suboptimal health and the toll it has taken on my wordplay.

DIRK: Thanks. It’s been very difficult for me.

ROSE: You’ve been a real trouper." These two, are the best.

"ROSE: Anyway, my point is that I’ve long suspected my story was a pre-manifestation of my Seer of Light powers. I was seeing beyond my universe into another." Yyyeah, but, the analogy with the trolls doesn't hold up after the first glance, and she (or her adult self) also incorporated things from other timelines and universes. The genderqueer Cal... I forgot what the full name was..., for instance.

Meanwhile, Dave has been well aware his subconcsiousness is influencing him, and he has been looking and found the "least psychologically revealing" SBaHJ comic, as a result.

"ROSE: My original thesis was that the children represented the twelve trolls who created our universe." Ooh, so she noticed it too. Guess she might now be thinking the twelve are representations of the B2 kids, Karkat, Kanaya, Calliope and... someone else?

"DIRK: Twelve. That’s how many players went through the door at the end of our game." Riiiight, Terezi went through as well!

"When she finds herself leaning against him—probably without thinking about it, Dirk imagines, because neither of them really “do” that—he doesn’t pull away. If it’s her, it’s all right." That just shows the difference in how he and Rose behave versus he and Dave, where the distance or proximity is always a tangible thing.

"DIRK: You describe this as a fact of numerological significance.

DIRK: Which makes it seem you suspect these correlations are something less than utterly providential. As if there is a part of you holding on to the belief that certain figures are coincidental. That their significance and repetition smacks of bullshit." Heheh, there are a LOT of repeating numbers in the story though, bullshit or not. Twelve is just one of them: 4 6 10 11 12 13 25 ... Seems like Dirk holds them in higher esteem than Rose, though. If he's sincere.

"It’s unclear exactly which things are smacking, just as it’s unclear that when it comes to bullshit, whether or not smacking accurately describes what is being done per se." This metaphor has gone off track again.

"DIRK: I’m just saying it’s all evidence of a grand design. An immortal, metatextual apparatus beyond our ken that we can only catch glimpses of when we’re proverbially shitting our brains out through our nose." They can almost see Andrew. :P In-canon, the closest to such a reveal were John and Jade, but they let the moment of epiphany pass them by as they started their 3-year-long journey. :P

"ROSE: They were filled with the light of knowledge and one by one they succumbed to it, turning insane or evil or, most often, both." Ah, right, like the guy that filled that tome with knowledge and was crushed by it, that Roxy named Jaspers after.

"ROSE: If this is the effect unchecked powers have on players living in a post-canon victory state, then why isn’t it affecting any of our other friends?" Let the theories about evil power-hungry Jane commence! Though, what other effects could we even see right now, not much. Plus, Kanaya, Karkat, Terezi and Calliope won't feel the effects of an ultimate self ascension, at least.

"DIRK: Well." Don't say "now you mention it", Dirk. Please.

"some of us have stopped using our powers completely." Oh, he thinks that it's not so much power that corrupts, but the continued use of it?

"emergency resurrections" But he also doesn't seem to think then that what Jane is planning reeks of her getting slowly corrupted, huh.

"sportsball riot" I wouldn't be surprised if sportsball is an actual thing on this planet, courtesy of Dave's influence in shaping society.

"ROSE: In that case...

Rose sways suddenly." Eesh, she's starting to get woozy.

"ROSE: Maybe I was a fool for imagining I could settle down here." :/ It would be shitty for Paradox Space to do this to the players for no good reason, though. Then again, Sburb.

"occasional banter about adoption with her wife" Ooh, cool. Well, yeah, it would stand to reason Maryams like to become mothers. :)

"ROSE: I assumed it was just that feigned Strider Stoicism, but you seem to be taking this...

DIRK: In stride?" Awww-yeah. Sorry Rose, you have nothing to top Strider Dad jokes.

"

DIRK: But I’ve got more practice at this than you do. I spent most of my life before the game multitasking my entire fucking subconscious. I’ve had several times my age on paper to contemplate these mysteries.

DIRK: Years of prying open can after can of worms filled with answers I don’t like.

DIRK: Cut yourself on the edge more than once and you stop getting surprised by all the blood.

ROSE: I see." So it's as if, due to Dirk already having such an extensive memory from juggling dream and awake selves, he's handling all the input better. Maybe, relatively speaking, it's less that's coming in for him, too. I mean, his dream selves mustn't have gone through many different things. Plus, maybe merging with Lil' Hal does something for you to be able to handle big data. :O

"ROSE: In fact, I don’t think it’s the expansion of my powers that is causing the headaches, but rather my own resistance to it.

ROSE: Sometimes I get this feeling that I could, if I really wanted to, just let go." I think Rose might prefer to keep to her current self, if she could. Like the narration said, she's basically still a solitary creature. The expansion of experiences is proving too jarring.

"ROSE: I’m forcing myself to stumble through my life as a sleepwalker. All this pain and sorrow could go away if I would just allow myself to wake up." Between this and "letting go", it seems like an ultimate self ascension is perhaps even going to go further than the psychologically, maybe even physically. If that's so, Dirk might be further ahead but not there yet. But once they'd ascend, there wouldn't be coming back from it, I would think, and they'd leave their old lives and Earth C behind, to go to another plane of existence, maybe?

"ROSE: Because I’m not sure that the person opening her eyes will be me." ... Now I'm thinking about how the last command aimed at John was for him to close his eyes. :/ Could that mean he's about to go through a sped-up ascension?

Rose has the unfortunate occasion to compare her ascension to Jasprosesprite^2, so I very much understand she has very grave misgivings about "expanding her mental horizons", so to speak.

"Then, in a deliberate motion, he pulls off his shades." ... Say, would his eyes have changed if he merged with Lil' Hal, even just psychologically? I know the autoresponder was a pair of shades without eyes, but the Hal monitor had that red buzzing light which represented his eyeballs on at least one occasion.

"DIRK: I know I sound pretty nonchalant most of the time, but actually I’m scared shitless of myself.

DIRK: I’ve always had this uncanny ability to chart a course from A to Z and not give a fuck about any of the letters in between.

DIRK: I’m not sure anyone should be allowed to have that much foresight. Especially a guy like me." Well, that's a healthy self-assessment and fear. Though, foresight? It would be more akin to intuition, right, knowing how people responded in different situations? ... Which sounds like Mind powers, actually, come to think of it.

"ROSE: The farther above the board you fly, the harder it gets to care about the pieces." Is that part of the reason Terezi left, if she forced an ultimate self ascension on her with her Remem8er act?

"DIRK: And yes, I may be a shitty human being, but,

DIRK: As a mechanic, I’m off the fucking charts." Well, that certainly are points to Dirk being at least marginally better as an adult than Bro, if only out of self-awareness. Speaking of, does he have access to Bro's memories now, too? Also, the mechanic part is leading into the Soulbot I theorized about? Wait, mechanic... Dirk and Darkleer should have a build-off.

"Rose’s eyes have grown distant, almost mirrorlike. Dirk can see himself reflected in her vacant stare.

ROSE: All the pieces in their place.

ROSE: The mechanisms all running smoothly." Has Dirk... hypnotized her?

"She says this in a hollow tone. It’s the disarming voice a puppeteer ventriloquizes for a marionette. Her head falls toward her shoulder slowly. Dirk catches her cheek as she slides into sleep. It’s difficult for the untrained ear to spot the exact moment in their conversation when the words she was saying stopped being hers and started being his." ... What did I just watch. ... How. Why? ... Did Dirk use any Heart powers here? I can't...

"Does it really matter? In many respects, they’re basically the same person, aren’t they?" Kind of creepy to say that about your hypnotized daughter, though.

"Kindred spirits in blood and perspective, the puppet masters of the respective games they like to believe they’re playing." ... Puppets. Puppets and games. ... This is building up into a Saw reference and I don't like it one bit. "I want to play a game." ... I do hope Dirk's ascension hasn't seen him get influenced by Lord English.

... You know, though, maybe Dirk was able to influence Rose because of their strong connection, since she's so close to his self she's almost like another shard of him, more so than other people that contain shards of his essence, like Brain Ghost Dirk for Jake.

"But you already knew that, right?" Aaaaaaah, he took over the narration! ... He took over Andrew??? Is that a power for ultimate selves, to get access to the narrative prompt?? If so, then Caliborn was not an exception, just the primary example.

... He's pulled a Doc Scratch on us.

Dear god.

What to make of this. I think Dirk might be the hidden antagonist of Earth C. His Heart powers might be able to influence and even control people.

I just hope he isn't going to absorb them all.

... Man, this started baring on innocuous and look at how chilling the ending of the page is.

I think through his influence, people might start behaving exactly as he predicted, enforcing him being right and securing influence at the same time. I mean, if he merged with memories from Lil Hal, Doc Scratch and perhaps even LE... He's become a master manipulator.

... This is basically "shh, only dreams now" D:

[bigbenalpha]

I’ve Ben DMing, Session 25

So due to the size of the party not a lot happened in this session, but really, so much happened.  The fighting took a lot of time but doesn’t require a lot of written description, while the crucial plot points at the end were quick to say but take many paragraphs to explain. 

So, five of the party were brought back thanks to a mass healing spell and fight with the bandit leaders continued. The enemy bard took a good bit of damage then Glim used his bag of tricks to throw a bear at her. She vanished in a puff of brimstone. Nora got the last hit on the captain and Corvid dropped the warlock. Their spore druid revived and called lightning, taking out Surtur and Ogner, who had suffered a chunk of damage from a wall of fire and was already unconscious. Now he was dead. Again.  The winged kobold rogue hit Eimir with a hold person spell. None of the party understands draconic, or they would have heard the dragon call the kobold a traitor, kobold reply, “why serve dragon when can be a dragon? she promised me.”

Their ranger decided now was a good time to duck out as well. The barbarian wasn’t quite done and ripped down a curtain revealing two invunche waiting to attack. A third came through the doorway on the upper ledge, and a fourth arrived from the passage that led back to the giant bee hive. This one was accompanied by Maw-Maw Sugar.

The  green hag, using the fragment of an orb of dragonkind, ordered the wounded black dragon to use its breath weapon on the party. The only one in range was Nora, and she went down again. The hag moved on Nora and tried to drag her into one of the arcane ritual glyphs. Eimir dodged an attack from an invunche and got an arrow into the hag. She just smiled and laughed. 

While Glim, Valik and Telamon contended with the other invunche, Kainos decided it might be time to duck out as well. Corvid engaged Maw-Maw and with the aid of several enhanced items landed a massive amount of damage on her. Boots of speed and ring of the ram, coupled with his monk skills resulted in a series of devastating blows that knocked her across the room and freed Nora from her clutches. As the hag was about to cast a spell (Bad DM can’t recall who) one of the party pierced her hand with an arrow, pinning it to the cavern wall.  Before the next attack could land there was a deafening clap of thunder and the light filtering in the broken ceiling began to shift.  The winged kobold and the druid used the new confusion to teleport their fallen comrades away, and the barbarian slipped out the back. The hag looked confused and frantic as she tried to free her hand.

The next sound anyone heard was a pair of well-crafted boots walking down the tunnel from the hive area. Entering the room was a tall, pale man with sharp Elven features. The hair on his head stuck out in every direction and from the neck down he was completely covered in a cloak made of fine, white feathers. He commanded everyone to stop what they were doing.  Three of the invunche’s head exploded at his glance. The fourth ran into the swamp. The hag looked genuinely panicked now.  Amnon attempted to ask a question but the man shut him down and walked up to the hag, telling her that she had dipped her toes into pools she was forbidden from. He  then spoke to her in Sylvan. Telamon was the only party member fluent in that language so he filled in the gaps later. Several others speak Elven so they picked up a few words and phrases to get the gist of it.

He told her that the ritual she was attempting could never work and the individual who gave her the idea had been manipulating her. Even though she had managed to ensnare a piece of an unborn god and house it the body of a dragon (one of the only creatures strong enough to hold it) the thing was not of this plane and could not be contained by anything of it. The source of Maw-Maw Sugar’s information has used her to create an imbalance in reality that is was going to exploit for it’s own purposes. He told her that he wasn’t there to punish her. His bargain was only to collect the godshard and return it home. He finished by saying, “You know who will be coming for you and soon, Jarella. Run now while you can.” Hearing her name spoken aloud enraged the hag and she attempted to claw the man but he dodged easily and backhanded her across the room. She morphed into a small bird a flew away. The man then walked across one of the arcane glyphs, causing it to pop like a bubble. He stepped up to the dragon and asked if it knew that it wouldn’t survive. The godshard would grow and consume the dragon, and removing it would also be fatal since it was bound by the dragon’s life force. The dragon snorted and asked him to make it quick. 

The man produced an impossibility of item, a lean, curved blade that was only visible from a certain angle and caused light ripple around it, and he began to cut quickly. As the dragon breathed its last he leaned over and whispered, “He’ll remember you.”  From inside the beast he puled out a large egg that glowed with golden white light.  In his hand it turned into a sleeping baby- with one eye and hooks instead of hands. It stirred but he calmed it saying that he would be home soon, where he could cause the most fun.

In the shadows of the cavern small faces could be seen, and the man handed the infant god off to them. They produced something resembling a bassinet as the man instructed them to return home immediately with the utmost care. He’d follow shortly, he said, then he turned to the group and asked what he was to do with all of them. The party had all been revived, except Ogner, and Kainos managed to slip back inside the cavern. Be fore he did he saw Titus, badly wounded by bees, atop the cliff lighting a signal fire for reinforcements.  As the man walked and surveyed the wounded Nora asked what his name was. He asked hers first and thought for a second. “Hmmm, close, but those first two letters... I do love to hear my name on the lips of others so you’ll have to listen for it.” Glim asked the man if he could bring Ogner back, because Ogner owed his soul to Glim. The man laughed and said Glim would have to get in line, Ogner was under the thumbs of beings who placed zero importance on the deals mortal make between themselves. He said yes, he could revive Ogner but what bargain did the party offer. As they thought quickly the man leaned over and with his impossible blade lifted Ogner’s amulet into the light.  “I’ll take this, and your oath that you’ll stay out of my way as I gather the remaining shards and return them to their rightful place.”  Eimir asked how they were supposed to know if they were getting in his way. “Your ignorance isn’t my concern. Decide!” Glim quickly agreed. As the man severed the cord of the necklace Ogner came back.  He turned, “My business here is done. I apologize about your travel plans. Let’s not meet again.” And he turned into a large, white owl and flew away through one of the holes in the cavern ceiling. As the small faces in the shadows faded they all whispered, “goblin king. goblin king, goblin kiiiiing.”

Corvid, Surtur and Amnon did a quick check of the cavern exits and discovered that the swamp outside had been replaced with thick, temperate rain forest. The sky was twilight. The were in the feywild now.  And that’s where we stopped.

And this is where I’m stopping being the DM for a while. Glim’s player is taking over that chair. When he’s done with his story I’ll pick up again for a session or two to add a bit more to my larger story. Then Amnon’s player will DM, then Kainos’s, with me filling in again in between them then coming back full time to wrap it all up. We should be at least level 25 by the time it’s all over. And if you’re wondering how a green hag could take so much damage it’s ‘cause I had to beef her up tremendously. There were eleven level five party members looking to bring the hurt so steps were taken. I won’t say what steps, exactly, in case she has a taste for revenge and manages to elude whoever is coming after her for what she’s done. I’m also done with writing recaps for the time being as well. Nora’s player is going to pick up the pen in my stead. I’ll be copy’pasting them here as she updates. If you’ve read along with any or all of these recaps I hope you enjoyed them.

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ART credit: Jareth the Goblin King by Marker-Mistress on deviantArt

[switchblades-and-cherries]

The Town That Time Forgot-Chapter 1

Ok so this is an Modern!Outsiders story that I have been thinking about writing for a while now. And because I want to make my life even harder lol. I think I’m also going to be tossing in the 100 writing prompt challenge by Sunshockk on Deviantart into the mix. Now whether or not I can actually write 100 chapters of this is a different story, but I figured it would be cool to see what chapters I could make with just 1 word as inspiration.

I actually chose not only the word but also who Ellie meets first with a random picker, so the fact that this has Sodapop in it doesn’t necessarily mean she will end up with him...We will see how the story progresses to see who she chooses ;) . Also if you would like to see what Ellie looks like, I drew a picture of her here .

All of the lovely boys are in this story as well, so do not fret. And because Ellie is 25, I have upped their ages a bit.

Ponyboy 19 Johnny 21 Sodapop 21 going on 22 Dallas 22 Steve 22 Two-Bit 23 Darry 25

This all being said, Let’s get to the story!!!

 Word Count: 1,824

Warnings: Cussing, Socs harassing Ellie

Word Inspiration: Bubble

"The town that time forgot"

That was where I was headed, the real name for it was Rocksville funny enough. It was a once abandoned town out in Oklahoma, but since has grown to a population close to seven thousand. Though the revival of the once ghost town was not what made it remarkable, or gave it it's name-No, it was due to the fact that the whole town was still modeled as if it had never moved past 1965. The buildings were built in that style, the food was still grown locally so that it could be sold for less. Heck, even the people never moved past the era, everyone still dressed in the fashion, drove the cars, even the houses were decorated with fifties through sixties decor. It was a Rockabilly dream, and my soon to be home.

When I had found the Rockabilly community I fell in love, having always been drawn to the era, I always wished that I could have been born then, instead of the nineties. When I changed my entire lifestyle, my mother suggested that I go live with my grandmother for a bit, and if I liked it, get a house of my own in the community. Grandma had always been part of my life since I was little, and had told me stories about her younger days, mom said that she influenced me, but grandma just says that sometimes the soul doesn't move past the times they loved the most.

So here I was, driving down the highway in my nineteen fifty-seven Chevy Bel Air, getting strange looks from people my own age, but thumbs up from my elders. Excited didn't even begin to explain how I was feeling, it was like a sense of longing was finally being fulfilled, like where I was supposed to be was finally within reach-And as I pulled off to the side road that led to the town I realized, it really was. I knew that the community was very closed off, but I didn't realize how much until I pulled up to the gate, it was like this whole town was in its own little bubble.

"Hello there sweety, what can I do for you?" The elderly man asked, walking out of his small room and up to my car.

"I'm here to see my grandmother, Donna Smith" I replied, smiling at the gentleman.

"Well I'll be, are you little Ellie? Donna talks about you a lot, glad to have ya finally stop by, My name is William" He smiled back.

"Very nice to meet you William" I replied before he nodded.

"Right then" he spoke before turning around and making his way to the gate. He grabbed the keys from his belt and unlocked the giant padlock, before pushing the gates open.

"Wow this place really is old fashioned" I stated to myself, watching as he waved me over.

"Enjoy your stay dear, and welcome to Rocksville" He told me before I kept driving, seeing him close the gates behind me and return to his room. The town was a bit empty on the way in, nothing but a few farmlands, but as soon as you hit downtown, you knew it. I felt like I was about to cry as I drove through the streets, people crossing, old cars lining the sides. Old soda shops, diners, and movie theaters, along with so many mom and pop shops. It was only after the second red light that I realized-I had no idea where grandma's street was in this town.

"I guess I should ask someone if they can give me directions" I stated, pulling off into a parking space on the side of the street. Cutting my car off, I gathered my purse and stepped out onto the street, quickly making my way to the sidewalk, making sure to give a thank you wave to the people who had stopped to let me get out and around my car. People were a heck of a lot nicer here than in the cities I've been to, that's for sure. I looked around for the best place to ask, there was a small clothing store in front of me, a small food store beside that. The mechanic at the end corner looked promising, if anyone knows almost everyone in town, it's a mechanic.

Mulling over my options, I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of whistles and cat calls.

"Hey there pretty lady, haven't seen you here before"

"We would have remembered this one boys"

"Want us to show ya around? You'll have a good time"

Looking behind me I saw a group of what I could only describe as Socs making their way towards me. Looking forward again I rolled my eyes.

"No I'm fine thank you" I stated, trying to be polite, even if they didn't deserve it.

"Awe come on baby, it will be fun" what I could only guess was the leader, said as he grabbed my arm and spun me around. Ok, I take back what I said about people being a heck of a lot nicer here.

"I said no!" I told him, taking my arm from his grasp.

"Well looky here boys, the kitten has claws"

"They're more fun when they fight back"

"Makes winning them even better"

"Listen, I'm giving you five seconds to leave me alone," I told him, I may not look it, but if growing up with four older brothers taught me anything, it was how to protect myself.

"Or what?" The leader asked with a smirk.

"Or your ass is going to be on the ground"

"what did you say bitch?" he snarled

"One"

"You think you're tough shit huh new girl?"

"two"

"Ok I've had enough of your shit"

"Hey! Why don't you three piss off and leave the lady alone" A voice spoke up from behind us. I turned to see a guy who one could successfully describe just by saying "movie-star handsome". Short brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a jaw-line that should probably be illegal. He wore a blue mechanic outfit, with the top tied around his waist, showing off his white undershirt.

'Dang grandma these are where the good-looking guys have been hiding?!'

"Stay out of this Curtis, this doesn't involve you" The leader of the Soc gang spoke.

'Curtis? First or last name?' I wondered.

"Maybe not, but I'm not gonna stand by while three creeps harass her" He spoke, stepping in front of me.

'oh ok then, didn't know I looked that dainty but I appreciate the action'

"what did you say?" The leader asked, getting in the guy's face.

"Do you really want to do this again? Remember what happened last time" The man coolly spoke. The Socs just scoffed, the two in the back muttering their displeasure.

"You can keep the little broad, but this isn't over Curtis" The leader said before he and his goons left. The man sighed before turning around to face me. Seeing him up this close I could get a better look at him. He seemed older, not as old as me, but perhaps in his early twenties. Though his face said that he hadn't had the easiest life, there was a maturity to him that was beyond his age.

"You ok?" He asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Oh yeah, thank you, I really appreciate it" I smiled.

"No problem, though I would have liked to see you put him on his ass" he smirked, causing me to laugh.

"I would have too if you hadn't stepped in. But thanks to you, I didn't have to get my dress dirty" I smirked, this time it was his turn to laugh.

"You're new here, never seen you around" He stated.

"Do new people really not come here all that often?" I asked, this was the third person who said I was new.

"Well no-But the pink in your hair kinda makes you stand out" he smiled, motioning towards my pink streak.

"Oh...Yeah, I suppose it would" I chuckled.

"Were you needing help with anything?" he asked.

'Ok I stand by my first thought, people are a heck of a lot nicer here'

"Oh yeah, actually I do need some help. I'm here to stay with my grandmother for a bit, and I'm not exactly sure how to get to maple street" I told him.

"Oh that's simple, just head down this road and turn right on the last crossroad, onto Bel Lane. Keep going on that road till you come to a curve and it's the first road on your left right after the curve." He told me, gesturing the different directions.

"Keep going, make a right on Bel Lane, keep going, first right past the curve" I repeated.

"Got it" he smiled.

"Thank you so much, and for helping me out with those guys. I'm Elizabeth by the way, but everyone calls me Ellie" I smiled, holding out my hand.

"Sodapop, nice to meet you Ellie, hope to see you around" he smiled back.

"You too" I nodded, turning to head back to my car.

"Enjoy Rocksville" he called out.

"I already am" I laughed. I climbed in my car and looked over, Sodapop must have already gone back to the mechanic shop.

'Well this town keeps getting more and more interesting' I smiled to myself, pulling out onto the road and heading to grandma's house. With Soda's directions it didn't take me long to find the road, and soon I was pulling up into grandma's driveway. Being greeting by her small Yorkie, Pattie, as soon as I climbed out of the car.

"Hey girl, long time no see" I smiled, squatting down and picking the excited dog up.

"Is that my granddaughter I see!" I heard my grandmother's voice call from the front porch.

"Tis I!" I called back, rounding the cars and smiling. Grandma hugged me as soon as I stepped onto the porch, being careful of Pattie.

"Did you have trouble finding the place?" she asked as we walked inside.

"A bit, but a mechanic in town helped me after he helped me with a Soc problem," I stated, putting Pattie down.

"Oh dear, I hope they didn't both you too much, you have to be careful with some guys in town, they need a good smack upside the head" she stated, sitting down in her chair.

"Yeah" I laughed

"But Sodapop Curtis helped me out," I told her.

"Oh, he is such a nice young man isn't he...Single too" she stated with a smile, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Grandma! I just got here!" I blushed.

"I'm just saying" she shrugged, leaning down to pick Pattie up, and sitting her on her lap.

"I have a feeling living here is going to be very interesting" I laughed.

"You have no idea sweety" she patted my hand with a wink.

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it. I’m going to have the next chapter out as soon as I can ^_^

[taehyungiejiminie95]

Jin - Suicide

Warning - May be upsetting to some readers, contains bad language

Jin hums to himself as he juggles the bags around on his arms, searching for his keys in his pockets. He silently scolds himself for wearing such tight jeans to the shop, but he forgets it when he thinks of how you’ll react when you see him coming in. He can tell that you’ve been feeling a little down lately, so he took the day off to spend with you. He let you sleep in while he went shopping, buying everything he needs to make your favourite meal. The excitement bubbles up inside of him as he pushes the door open, calling your name,

“Hey! I’m home! I hope you’re ready for the best meal of your whole entire life because I bought the best ingredients I could!” Jin yells into the silence of the apartment. He smiles to himself, assuming that you’re probably still in bed. He walks through to the kitchen, going to set the bags down on the counter when he sees you.

You’re collapsed on the floor, in an unnatural position. Jin stops short, not able to do anything but stare at you. The way your hair fans out behind you, the dead glassy look in your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the lack of movement on your body. You’re not breathing. For a moment, Jin can’t move he doesn’t know what to do. The silence seems to buzz at him, growing in volume and enveloping him menacingly until he breaks it, shouting your name. The bags drop from his grip and he falls down beside you, pulling your head against his chest as he begins to cry. He knows you’re not breathing. He can’t see any signs of life, and your skin isn’t warm anymore. You’re dead.

The first stage of grief is denial. Jin refuses to acknowledge that you’ve gone. When the coroner comes, after the paramedics pronounce you dead, and Jin’s done insisting that they’re wrong, Jin nearly doesn’t answer the door. He nearly refuses to let them in,

“They can’t take her, she’s not gone yet. It’s those damn paramedics not doing their job!” Jin yells at Yoongi, who had to drag him away from you. He’d tried to revive you himself when the paramedics wouldn’t, but everyone knew it was never going to work. Your skin’s cold. You’re not coming back. Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung are huddled in a corner, holding each other as they cry. Hoseok isn’t far away, watching over his maknaes while his elders are busy. Tears fall silently down his own cheeks, but he can’t break yet. Later, he promises himself, you can cry later. Just hold it together for them,

“Jin, she’s gone. I’m sorry, I know-“ Yoongi starts, hands still firm on Jin’s shoulders, physically holding him down as he tries to get up,

“Shut up! Namjoon don’t you let that coroner in! I just need to get to her! Please, I can help her! Yoongi just let me get up, I can do it! I learned CPR, she’s not gone yet! Why are you just giving up?” Jin pleads, not letting Yoongi get out what he wants to say. Namjoon throws an apologetic look to Yoongi as he opens the door. The black bags will set Jin off more than Yoongi will be able to handle on his own, and both of the men know it. When Namjoon opens the door, he quickly bolts over to Jin, helping Yoongi in holding him down. But he’s hysteric, and the pained sounds leaving his lips hurt everyone.

The second stage of grief is anger. Jin stays in this stage the longest. The group visit every day, but it only aggravates Jin. Jimin and Taehyung sit on the couch, holding each other as Jin has another one of his outbursts. They’re becoming more and more frequent, and more and more unpredictable. Hoseok had gone to get a blanket for Jin, because he was shivering, but when Jin saw Hoseok’s hands gripping the fluffy blanket, he snapped,

“Don’t touch that!” He had screamed, leaping up to tear it from Hoseok, “That’s hers! Don’t you get it? Don’t touch her things! It’s hers and it’s not yours to touch and throw around like some toy! How dare you waltz on in here, taking her stuff and getting it dirty! Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jin spat, taking a step closer to Hoseok with every passing moment, his face red as he bore down upon the younger man. Jungkook had tried to step in, placing a hand on Jin’s shoulder,

“Jin hyung, please calm down. Hobi hyung didn’t know. You can put it back, and we won’t touch it again, okay?” The maknae had suggested. He wanted to fix the situation, but it only did the opposite. Jin shoved the younger man hard. Under normal circumstances, Jungkook was easily stronger than Jin, but the shock of the violent outburst sent him stumbling back, falling into the couch. That’s when Jimin had started crying,

“Shut up!” Jin had screamed, rounding on the smallest of the seven. That’s when Yoongi had to step in. Jungkook could take getting hit, Hoseok could take getting yelled at. But not Jimin. He’d taken this badly too and Yoongi wouldn’t watch him suffer the way that Jungkook or Hoseok had,

“Jin, take a step back. This isn’t Jimin’s fault. We’re all upset,” Yoongi had told Jin firmly, taking a step between the two. Jin’s eyes darkened a shade further at this challenge, but rose to it. He stepped forward, towering over Yoongi, but no means more intimidating. Jin had height and broadness, but Yoongi had heart. Yoongi breaths were controlled and calculated, but he had an air about him that screamed danger. He still does. Jin had stepped back with a scoff, turning to go to his room,

“Group therapy’s over. Fuck off, all of you,” Jin had spat, slamming the bedroom door behind him. But no-one got up to move. Jin would go to sleep, wake up worse than before and need his boys. And his boys needed him too.

The third stage of grief is bargaining. Jin had been refusing visitors, keeping his door locked and windows shut at all times. Namjoon still came every single day, leaving a pot of soup that Jin would drink (cold) hours after Namjoon left. At least he was eating, though. Namjoon would pick up the empty pot and leave a fresh one. It became a routine over the three weeks that Jin kept himself completely closed off.

When Jin wasn’t gulping down the (poorly made) cold soup that Namjoon made, he stayed sat in the middle of his living room, knelt on his bare knees as he spoke with God. He didn’t even believe in a God before you were taken from here. But now, here he was. His knees are raw and bleeding from the three weeks he’s spent like this, and every muscle and tendon in him is inflamed and begging for him to stop. But Jin can’t stop. He wants to make a deal with God, to get you back. He knows that you must have gone to heaven, but if Good doesn’t respond soon he’ll try Satan. In his head, it makes sense,

“I’ll practice Christianity. I won’t swear, I won’t drink, I’ll sing Jesus songs, I’ll go to church, I won’t ever have sex until I’m married. I’ll get a cross tattooed on my forehead if you really want, just please, I want her back. It wasn’t  her time. Why did you take her? Why didn’t you turn her around at the gates and tell her to come back down?” Jin pleads, leaning forward so that his forehead touches the ground. The tears slip onto the carpet in front of him and sobs wrack his body.

Namjoon presses his ear to the door as he usually does, straining to hear more of Jin’s one sided conversation with God. He knows he shouldn’t invade Jin’s privacy like this, but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen his oldest hyung’s face in three weeks, and he’s more than scared for his health. Thing’s aren’t much better back at the dorm. It’s all falling apart. You and Jin had stapled things together, and now that’s collapsing.

The fourth stage of grief is depression. When Jin had finally opened the door for Namjoon, he was barely standing. Namjoon had nearly cried at the sight of him. Jin was dressed in a large shirt and basketball shirts. The loose garments hung off of him in a scary way  his collarbones jutted out violently, his cheek bones were too pronounced, his eyes seemed to sink into his head and his wrists were too thin and shook as he held onto the door handle. His knees were blistered, bruised and cut to the point where Namjoon wondered how Jin had managed to continue to kneel every day for so long. Had Namjoon seen Jin with no shirt, he would have been able to count every single one of ribs, and seen the way his hipbones pushed against his paper white skin,

“I need help,” Jin had whispered, and Namjoon had just nodded, not trying to speak. He had walked into the apartment, not reacting to the state it was in. Jin hadn’t moved from the living room in weeks, and hadn’t tidied up since last time the boys were over. That was a month ago now. Namjoon had missed Jin more than words could day. All he wanted was to call the entire group to come over, but that wasn’t for today. For the first time since your suicide, Namjoon had hope. Maybe Jin was getting better.

The fifth stage of grief is acceptance. But Jin never gets there. He can’t accept it. He’s stuck in limbo, forever trapped between the stages of grief. He can’t escape.

Namjoon knocks on the door twice before just letting himself in. Jin probably wouldn’t answer the door anyway. Knocking has become more of a courtesy at this point. Namjoon shuts the door behind him, walking through to the kitchen, intending to put the kettle on to make some tea. He stops short when he sees a crumpled mess on the floor. Unnatural position… not breathing.... His hair fans out behind him, his eyes are glassy, he looks pale, he’s not moving. He’s not breathing. He’s dead, too.

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