#they had some weird flattening lower register something going on

[literateleah]

crazy how this is maybe one of their best choruses from the first two albums and it’s a b side

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

today i astral project giant, curious merboy w/ frightened researcher into your mind. tomorrow? who knows

Tomorrow is when you get your request filled you babey boi

--

“E-easy now, l-let’s ju-woah! Hey!”

It was too late for Stella’s squirming to do her any good as long, clammy fingers tightened themselves around her already battered body to lift her much higher than she would have appreciated. She couldn’t help a small wince when she felt her arms be uncomfortably squeezed against her ribs, the left side of which was undoubtably bruised from her topple earlier. The grip only pressed more at her pathetic struggles, forcing out her exhale much rougher than intended.

“Pl-lease,” she gasped, practically immobile in the creature’s hold which seemed to be the desired affect, “y-you’re hur-hurting me...!”

And just like that, the pressure that had once been constricting her disappeared. Even more wonderfully, solid ground seemed to return under her shaky legs which she was grateful to collapse. Or so she thought. A couple inhales sucked in to clear the splotches that pulsed in the corner of her vision revealed she had merely been traded from one hand to the other, trapped high above in an open palm as opposed to a clenched fist. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she supposed.

Or fish, she supposed again.

With a shaky sigh, Stella forced her eyes up (and up and up) until they met with  wide ones, blinking down at its tiny capture. She couldn’t keep up the staring contest very long, however, not with how unnerving those black scleras were. Instead, she found her gaze shifting towards its mouth that could certainly fit her inside in one bite, perhaps even a rowboat if it tried. At that moment, it chirped at her, something loud and grating and immediately making her cover her ears for protection, but not without getting a glimpse of those jagged fangs.

From a scientific standpoint, this was one of the most stunning discoveries in her career, hell, in anyone’s career in the history of marine biology. A genuine mermaid...er, man, if she were to assume based purely on physical observation. A dozen questions ran through her mind focused on understand how on earth each component of his body functioned. Respiratory, circulatory, vision, hearing, homeostasis, smell, bone structure and density, muscle to fat ratio, everything and more!

Unfortunately, she doubted those inquiries would be answered anytime soon, if ever. 

The monster chittered again much more quietly, practically a rumble in his throat as his other hand hovered closer. Try as she might to flinch away, there was really no where else to go besides down into the icy waters below. She watched the thick claws adorning each finger inch closer, bracing for the sensation of being flayed like some sort of sick vengeance for all his seafood brethren she had ever eaten. Actually, given his size and muscular build alone, there was no way this thing was a vegetarian, so there better not be any judgement on that front!

Surprisingly enough, the claws just missed nicking any part of her skin in favor for the pad of his finger to rub against the top of her head, slowly, hesitantly even. Stella grimaced at the action but let it be, holding still as best her trembling form was able to while his petting built up more confidence, now sliding from her crown to where the coils ended at her shoulders. She let out a yip when he yanked her hair in an attempt to rub the foreign texture between his thumb and forefinger, immediately releasing the frizzy locks at the sound of her distress. 

His curiosity didn’t stop there, however. She was well aware of the irony of the situation--the researcher being studied by the subject and all that (at least, she hoped that’s what he was doing rather than sizing her up for a meal). Considering this was her first time ever encountering a merperson during one of her weekend escapades along the coastline, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine this was his first time meeting a strangely sized hybrid species as well. Maybe those local legends about sea monsters and sirens held a little bit of truth after all, he was certainly as destructive as the stories foretold of these deadly creatures.

And, the scientist side of her couldn’t help but reason with the merman. She was, after all, encroaching on his natural territory in a foreign vessel, was it truly so unexpected for it to attack? ‘Attack’ was perhaps too strong of a word. Investigate was more like it, the way it grabbed and shook her tiny boat in an effort to see what was inside this weird, floating habitat until she came tumbling out on deck. On the bright side, at least Lorelei coming down with strep the night before saved her research partner from meeting the same fate as her right now. On the downside, she was going to meet said fate alone, her true ending forever a mystery outside of these waters.

The question was: what the hell was her fate meant to be? The way his fingers and touches roamed her body continued to reassure her that she probably wasn’t going to be a menu speciality for another few moments, but beyond eating her, what other uses could he have for her? He pinched her legs and arms to bend at the joints, especially fascinated at how articulate her lower half was in comparison to his own. It was almost like he was looking for a tail where one should obviously be, trying to piece together how these two split fins could work together as one. His fingers brushed against her waist and trailing up to her neck. Gill placement, maybe? From just how close his nails were coming to her jugular, Stella feared she might just get a few extra breathing slits if she so much as hiccuped.

It was all well and good until the fingers glided back down over her chest, pushing past the soaked lapels of her coat to the swell of her cleavage, his claw eagerly slipping under the buttons of her blouse to pop a few off. Stella turned bright red, her body heating up so much that she was sure he could feel it against the cool flesh of his palm where she sat. With an indignant shriek, she slapped the digit away from her body, quickly covering herself with her lab coat as best she could.

“No, thank you!” She scolded, leveling a glare with the creature. “Don’t do that!”

She didn’t even have time to register what consequences might befall her actions of threat displaying a massive sea predator, not with how his ear fins flattened against his head and he jerked his hand away as if she had burned him with her touch. In his defense, he did look rather guilty, rumbling again in his throat like he was offering an apology. He tilted his head at her, repeating the noise and it was then she realized he probably didn’t actually know what was wrong, rather he was asking why it was wrong. Oh, yeah. Different species, different cultures, different takes on reproductive accessories.

“You just, y-you don’t touch people like that, okay?” He grumbled something at her and though she didn’t understand it, she knew that tone well enough to roll her eyes. “Because I said so. Why d-”

Stella froze. The monster was still pouting at her reply, but her lengthy pause paired with her suddenly shocked expression made him chirp again in question. She searched his eyes, now well aware of the deep blue iris hidden within the inky abyss around it. 

“You...c-can you understand me...?”

He furrowed his eyebrows before giving a single nod. Uh, yeah, duh? I’ve been responding to you this entire time, haven’t I? is what the expression conveyed.

“Holy shit...” she whispered. A smile was quick to tug at her cheeks, looking back at him with twinkling brown eyes. “Holy shit! You can understand me! Y-you’re...you’re intelligent!”

The creature narrowed his gaze and she quickly held up her hands in a placating motion. “I-I mean, obviously, you were always intelligent, just i-in terms of, like...you know, whatever, let’s just start over, um...” She ran a hand through her newly tangled mess of curls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god, I don’t even know where to begin!”

A quick look down at her capsized boat had her reconsider. Stella wondered how much of her research and equipment inside was totally trashed as a result of being broken or waterlogged. Oh well. Literally none of that mattered right now, not when filters could be replaced and notes reprinted and one of the greatest specimens of her lifetime was three inches in front of her.

Biting her lip, she glanced between the boat and the merman. “Actually, do you, um, think m-maybe you could fix...that? And maybe put m-me down while you’re at it...?”

For a moment, he only blinked at her, silently debating her request. It was long enough to make her start to shift nervously, wondering if she had managed to misread the entire situation and was foolish to make such demands when she was still considered a food source. Thankfully, he complied and righted her boat with ease, gently depositing her on the slick deck. The rocking of the sea still caused her to slip and fall ass first on the ground, though it mattered little to her with the way her legs still felt like jelly.

A shadow engulfed her, trilling ringing in her ears from above which made her groan. “I’m fine, just...give me a minute here.” Slowly, Stella sat back up and pulled her legs towards herself until she could sit criss-cross, digging her (thankfully) waterproof handheld from her pocket to pop out the stylus, tapping and scribbling on the screen. The creature lowered himself deeper into the water until only his shoulders and above were visible, swimming around to the edge of the boat to try and see what she was doing on the tiny device. He braced his hands on the side of the hull, nearly capsizing it again, which was probably what he did the first time when she had been down in the cabin, and only letting go when Stella cried out at being toppled for the umpteenth time.

When the boat ceased most of its swaying, she fixed another sharp glare at the creature who hunched a little further into the salty waters. “Okay, rule number one, no more touching this boat. Got it?” She was half tempted to add or me in there, but...well, they could cross that bridge if something came up about that later. Regardless, he nodded at her and she sighed, repositioning herself to lean against the cabin door for a little extra stability.

“So, ever play twenty questions?”

[dapandapod]

Fun and games

1420 words,  Three times Lambert kind of wants to kiss Aiden, and a fourth time where he has to.

I had to, alright? It’s been in my drafts for a while and I want snarky boys kissing. Enjoy <3

On Ao3 here!

Friendship is such a weird thing.

You just pick a human, mutant, pony, goat, bard, whatever, and just hang out with them. Lambert didn’t really pick this friend. The friend in question just showed up one day and kept showing up. Aiden, he calls himself. So that is what Lambert keeps yelling when this cat witcher keeps getting them into troubles.

Turns out it's most of the time.

Not that Lambert minds, trouble is fun in most senses possible. But when they (yet again) find themselves hiding out together in a pond because Aiden couldn’t resist teasing the residential lordling, even Lambert is getting a little cranky.

Not that Lambert stopped him, but that is not the point.

Their noses are right above the surface of the black pond, the moon reflecting it’s pale light. Lambert's hair sticks to his forehead, and the water smells old and murky. Aiden gives him a teasing look, corner of his eyes crinkling with mirth, and Lambert resists the urge to swat at him.

He squints at Aiden, who gives his hair a pointed stare. As if he looks much better. Bastard. 

There are men running around the grounds yet, so Lambert can’t do anything about Aiden’s stupid face. But he wants to.

He feels himself scowl, and if possible Aiden looks even happier.

Prick.

Fine. Lambert moves slowly, getting closer without disturbing the water. There must be vengeance for this. Aidens eyes challenge him, sparkling sparking in the moonlight. Lambert gets so close that there are only inches between them.

Aidens smile fades, and he looks at him intensely. Lambert has no idea why, but his heart is beating hard. Their chins rise above the water, Lambert follows the dripping of water that trails down Aidens skin in the darkness.

 He slowly puts his hands on Aidens shoulders under the water, careful not to create sound. He feels transfixed, he has the strongest urge to just-

He pushes Aiden under the water with a satisfying plop.

 That annoying mop of hair disappears under the surface and Lambert's grin is all teeth.

Vengeance is sweet.

Next thing he knows,cold pond water is pushing into his nose and his mouth. Aidens hands are like claws on his chest, pulling him down with him.

Right, Aiden is a bastard too.

They glare at each other from under the water, still close together. Aiden, ever the physical person, bites his shoulder.

All of a sudden, Lambert feels warm. Burning hot.

Fuck those guards up there, Lambert gotta go or he is going to do somethign very stupid.

He pushes himself out of the water and runs.

 ~

 Lambert is bleeding, rather profusely.

He can see black spots in his vision, eyes flicking about without finding purchase. His fingerstips are tingling, and somewhere from a distance he can hear someone calling his name.

Something is poured into his mouth, he recognizes the taste. Swallow.

Then it is dark for a while.

Next thing he knows, Aidens eyes are in front of his, hands on his cheeks.

“There we go, idiot. I told you, you are not allowed to die. Who says you can’t follow instructions!”

“Stupid kitty.” He moans out and Aiden's laugh puffs against his skin.

He wants to press close, but he feels so, so heavy.

He is content to lie there and be laughed at. It’s fine. He will bite back later. Push Aiden to a troll or something.

 ~

 Snow is the best and the worst.

Going up into the stupid mountain to chase a stupid wyvern eating stupid cows for stupid farmers that pay too little.

They find themselves snowed in after the wyvern is killed, in a barely-there hut abandoned halfway down the mountain. It’s stupid cold, and despite lighting a fire in the fireplace and the snow piling high enough to keep the wind out, it’s bitterly cold.

Aidens feet are like ice against his legs where they lie pressed together, huddled under cloaks and what little clothes they could spare to pile on top.

“Do you have to press them against me?! You are freezing!” Lambert complains.

Aiden huddles closer, pushing his hands under Lamberts tunic, and Lambert hisses.

“That’s the fucking point of cuddling!” Aiden retorts, pushing his icy fingers into Lambert's armpits.

“We are not cuddling!” Lambert protests. “We are trying to keep warm!”

Embarrassment burns through him, because he enjoys the closeness a little too much. The smell of old sweat from the fight, the feeling of another body next to his, his arms wrapped around the other witcher to keep him close.

“Sure.” Aiden says, sounding just a little patronizing, and flattens his fingers against Lambert's skin with a content little sigh.

“Come on. You too. We don't want you to lose any fingers.” He wriggles a little, motioning for Lambert to put his hands in Aidens armpits too.

It’s not weird, Lambert tells himself. It is not weird that his heart is beating and his breath is catching and that his hands are getting clammy as he slowly lowers his hands slowly.

It’s not cuddling. It’s not touching.

It's about warming up.

Nothing else.

Nothing to get worked up about.

Aiden pulls back a little, looking at him, and fuck.

“What are you getting worked up about?” Aiden teases, the bastard.

“I'm not.” Lambert grumbles, trying not to look at him.

At his eyes dancing with mirth, his lips and that stupid smile, as his hands travel. When his hands reach the hem of Aidens tunic, it’s Aidens turn to hiss.

“Fuck that’s cold. Come on.”

“So eager, you absolute weirdo.” Lambert says as his hands follow the line of Aidens body upwards.

Every rise of rib, muscle, scar. He looks at the bob of Aidens throat as he swallows, refusing to look higher.

It is a relief when his hands finally rest in the heat under his arms.

 Lambert presses his eyes closed, fighting with everything he is worth to stay on that line.

 Friends.

 Sleep claims them, through some wonder, and when they wake up and the wind has stopped howling and the fire is burned low, Lambert's head is under Aidens chin, nose pressed against his neck.

 ~

 “I dare you to kiss Aiden.”

Fuck. Yeah fun and games and all, but fuck.

Jaskier looks smug as fuck where he sits in Geralts lap, the witchers face constipated as usual when Jaskier is around.

Nerves, Eskel says, and Lambert is starting to relate.

“Fuck off.” Lambert scoffs and Jaskier shrugs.

“Fine. Truth it is, oh brave man.”

Lambert doesn’t trust this bard. This is going to be bad.

“Then tell us why not.”

Lambert doesn’t look at Aiden. Doesn’t look at anyone except for Jaskier.

There will be vengeance.

“Fucking fine.” Lambert growls, throws out a fist and grabs a hold of Aidens shirt and hauls him close.

Finally their eyes meet.

Aiden looks surprised. And hungry.

Lambert's eyes dart down to those lips that he may or may not have been thinking about in the middle of the night.

“What are you getting worked up about?” Aiden breathes and yeah.

It’s just a dare. Just a kiss.

Lunging forward, kissing the smug right of Aidens face. Their lips collide harshly and Aiden's hand comes up to tangle in his hair. Lambert grunts, and Aiden shifts closer, adjusting the angle so that when he takes a breath, they align perfectly.

Lips dragging together, parting, getting greedy.

Aidens fingers in his hair feels good, his other hand clutching at his thigh. Then he registers a whoop of victory from Jaskier, and ah.

Right. It’s just a kiss.

Lambert goes to pull back, their lips parting with a wet sound, but Aidens hand in his hair grips him tighter.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growls, and dives right back in.

His tongue is hot and wet as it licks into him. The hand Lambert has fisted in Aidens shirt tightens, pulling him closer, helpless to his own needs.

“Room.” He pants between kisses. “Room.”

He tears himself from Aiden, standing up abruptly, Aidens shirt still in a tight grip.

He points an angry finger at Jaskier, because it is time for vengeance while he still remembers to be mad.

 “You. Truth or dare.” Jaskier looks pleased and amused where he sits, and Geralt looks genuinely worried.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to fucking tell Geralt you love him.”

 Then Lambert turns around to splutters and more constipated witcher noises and drags Aiden behind him up the stairs.

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Sweet Dreams Chapter Seven

Lucid dreaming: The process of being aware that one is dreaming. Some researchers believe that in lucid dreaming, the individual may be able to change the outcome of the dream or control their degree of participation in the imaginary (dream) environment.

Description: Lee Eunbyul has been plagued with hellish nightmares since she was a child. Not the sort of nightmares you may be familiar with. There are no monsters to evade, no serial killers to outrun, no auditoriums of classmates in front of whom to stand naked. Instead there is just…darkness. Endless darkness. With professional help, the dreams come less frequently. But after moving away from home to live with her sister, Eunbyul’s nightmare returns, only this time it’s different. This time…she’s not alone.

What would you do if you had the chance to change the outcome of not only your dreams, but your life?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) OC

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Producer!Namjoon, Bookstore Clerk!Seokjin, Potter!Jimin, Producer!Yoongi, Dancer!Hoseok

Warnings: Frequent mentions of mental illness, infrequent swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Hello! I hope you’re all doing well and enjoying this story so far! I think we are getting kind of close to the end! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Eunbyul

“What are you doing?” asked Gaeul as I sat at the table, absently working my lower lip between my index finger and thumb.

I startled a little and dropped my hand with a thump beside my untouched bowl of cereal. I turned to her with wide eyes. “Hm?”

“You’re spacing out,” she remarked with raised brows. “More than normal.”

I glanced down at the bloated bits of cereal, swelling with milk, floating there as they slowly disintegrated. “Mm…,” I mumbled, picking up the spoon and swirling them around. “I dunno.” Again, without meaning to, my fingertips raised to brush against my lip and I furrowed my brow, cocked my head to the side, and exhaled slowly. “Feels weird.”

“What feels weird?” asked Gaeul, legs crossed on her dining chair beside me, her phone screen going dim as she neglected to touch it. She watched me with mascara smudging around her eyes from the day before, one brow raised in inquiry.

I sighed and pushed the bowl of cereal away. “Nothing,” I said with a shake of my head. I stood up and pulled my hair back to the nape of my neck, restraining it with the old rubber band I’d stolen from the newspaper on the front mat. “I gotta go to work.”

She groaned, tossing her head back. “I feel like you work more than I do these days,” she grumbled.

I chuckled and pulled an old white baseball cap on my head. “Better put in more hours, Miss Corporate Ladder,” I teased with a smile.

She stuck out her tongue and pushed off her chair, meandering toward the mural which was slowly, gradually, growing in detail. “If you’re free later, let’s watch a movie.”

“Are you always this nice?” I asked as I slid my shoes onto my feet with a laugh.

She smirked over her shoulder at me. “Only on my days off.”

I laughed and nodded. “If I get home in time,” I said.

She waved a hand, nonchalant, and returned to stewing over her mural. “See ya.”

“Yeah.”

I stared at the junction between the kiln and its lid, slack-jawed, mind blank, as fresh noontime sunlight filtered in through the workshop curtains. I really couldn’t place it, but something felt like it had shifted. Some imperceptible piece of me, set at a new angle. Like a locked door left just slightly ajar. I felt my fingers on my lips before I realized I was again touching them. I jumped a little and dropped my hand, but in the process nearly knocked a platter of fresh porcelain teacups off the table beside my arm. I fell to my knees as I slid to catch the lip of the metal platter.

“Jesus,” I breathed out, sliding the platter so it lay further from the edge of the table. I stood up and wiped the clay dust from my knees, patting my skin. If I didn’t get myself together soon, I’d end up making a real mistake.

I turned to see Jimin removing another batch from the kiln beside me, and from the smile on his face I knew he’d seen the whole thing. Even though he didn’t look at me, that cheeky smile told me all I needed to know. I sighed, rubbing my forehead, and nodded.

“Go ahead and say what you’re thinking,” I said gently, resting a hip against the kiln.

He chuckled, eyes nearly disappearing, and shrugged. “I’m not thinking anything.”

“Just say it.”

He smiled as he met my eyes, still bent over the kiln. “Just thinking you seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind today.”

I stiffened, crossing my arms, before relenting with a sigh. “I feel…kind of complicated.”

“Mm…,” he remarked gently, shutting the kiln once he’d retrieved the last piece from inside. “Wonder why.”

“Me too.” I stretched a little and groaned. “I’m gonna go vacuum the carpets.”

“Careful,” he began with a barely contained laugh, “might end up getting sucked in.”

I rolled my eyes and, as I passed, gave the back of his head a flick. He winced and I chuckled. “I’ll suck you in.”

He laughed as I stepped into the shop. “That sounded dirty!”

“Only because your mind is dirty!”

Again, his laugh ushered me out and I got to work quickly with the vacuum.

The front door bell pinged and, as I was on my hands and knees scrubbing a decade-old clay stain on the wall beside the potter’s wheel, I scrambled on all fours toward the aisle to greet the customer. But Jimin, having only just begun patting the clay into position, laughed at me efforts and patted my back with one dirty hand before jogging out from around my shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it. Just…I dunno, watch the clay or something,” he said through laughter. He rushed to the sink to wash his hands before jogging out to meet the patron.

I sighed and slid my cleaning supplies away and stood, taking a moment to peek around the corner at Jimin and the customer. Jimin stood facing me beside the register, and the customer stood with his back to me. Broad shoulders, honey-blonde hair, dressed simply and stylishly in a white tee and jeans, he stood with one muscled arm extended, resting on the register counter. I couldn’t see his face, but he was familiar nonetheless somehow. I couldn’t quite place him.

I lingered there for a moment, but returned to reality once I realized I was again touching my lip. And with a flutter in my stomach, I realized I was staring right at him. Flushed, I turned around and forced myself to sit at the wheel, watching the clay. It was nothing more than a blob, just an asymmetrical lump of hard material, too stiff, not even workable yet. I poked it with my index finger and found, as I expected, an unyielding mound of potential that I couldn’t quite tap into.

Well, I reasoned, softening the clay isn’t too hard. Shouldn’t matter if I do it for him. And I was right, partially anyway. So, slowly, I began pounding the clay with my palms, working it almost like bread dough. For a while, it felt hopeless. And as the dull hum of conversation drifted on between that customer and Jimin, I found my focus becoming acutely trained on that lump of clay beneath my warm fingertips, slowly softening as I molded it. Tentatively, I pressed a foot on the pedal, just enough for the wheel to lurch to a slow spin. Quietly, I smoothed my hands along the sides of the clay, guiding it up into a lopsided circle.

Perhaps because I’d been keenly observing Jimin’s technique for a while, or perhaps because I’d managed to find a way to turn my brain off, but the process felt natural, comfortable. I dipped my hands into the slip Jimin had prepared and again ran my hands over the smooth ball of clay. Maybe, if I just pressed my thumbs a little, I could create an indent in the center. Like a bowl. Without my brain telling my hands, they did just that and my thumbs dug into the clay, pushing and smoothing it as I coaxed the material into a shape I liked. It was rough and not quite symmetrical, but it felt…nice.

There’s beauty in something even if it isn’t perfect. Hadn’t Jimin said exactly that? I stared at the slightly misshapen, off-kilter almost-bowl and couldn’t help but smile, just a little bit. I pressed my thumb again, this time pinching the clay with my index finger on the other side, pulling it out to create the lip of the bowl.

“Looks good,” said a voice from behind me.

I shouted and jumped, my foot slipping off the pedal and my palms colliding with the clay, flattening my bowl. I stared down at the mess with a gape before turning to see Jimin leaning against the rack of pottery with crossed arms and a smile. I coughed a little and stood up, hiding my dirty hands behind my back like a kid who’d just been caught tracking mud in the house.

He smiled and shook his head. “You could’ve kept going.”

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “I was just bored,” I said.

He chuckled. “Are you sure about that?”

“Where’s the customer?” I asked before he’d even finished the last syllable, too eager to redirect the conversation.

He blinked a few times. “Oh, uh, he’s browsing. I’m gonna work on a commission for him, so he was stopping by to tell me what he wanted made.”

I nodded. “Alright then. I’ll go see if he needs help-,” I said, walking quickly past him.

But Jimin grabbed the crook of my elbow with wide eyes. “Wait a second,” he said, brows knit. “I think you should really keep working on that bowl, Eunbyul.”

I gently guided his hand off my arm and smiled at him. “I’m gonna go wash my hands off now,” I said, taking a glance back over my shoulder at the ruined bowl.

As my gaze swept back toward Jimin, I caught the outline of someone’s body on the other side of the shelves, peering through the spaces between ceramics. I stiffened, ready to point out the observer to Jimin, but they quickly moved out of my view, walking out from the aisle and into the larger shop space.

“I’m gonna go help him,” I said, maneuvering around Jimin with my arms raised like a surgeon prepped for an operation, two arms raised, palms facing my body. But once I emerged beside the register, the man’s strong back was retreating toward the front door. “Wait!” I called, mimicking Jimin’s frantic tone from before. I cleared my throat and managed my voice a little. “Did you need help with anything?”

The man waved his hand over his shoulder and shook his head, blonde hair catching the sunlight as it bounced. “I’m good, thanks,” he said before ducking out the front door and onto the sidewalk.

And I stood there, stupefied, for a long moment. Just staring at the space left behind in his absence, the empty space in front of the doorway where he was. His voice, the words, replayed over and over in my messy mind and I couldn’t force them out. Instead, I could only stand exactly still, hands dripping slip down my bare forearms, mouth open like I might shout something else, stunned into stillness.

Until I tasted something chalky on my tongue and spat a little, realizing too late that I’d lifted my dirty index finger to touch my lips once again…

I stared at my reflection for a long moment in the bathroom of Hyejin’s Books. Behind me, greenery clung to the wall from a hanging basket, alive and vibrant. But me…somehow I looked sallow, ill. It had to have been from lack of proper sleep, but surely my own mood was contributing. My eyes were heavy, my skin looked almost papery, dull. And as much as I hated to admit it, Mom was right when she said I was looking thinner. I knew it was my fault for eating less, but my brain felt like it was everywhere at once these days. I found it difficult to force myself to eat with my head so messy. But as I pulled at one of my under-eye bags with my index fingertip, I couldn’t help but groan a little and turn away. It was a bit hard to look at.

As I took a much needed step backwards, I caught sight of a pair of stylish black boots beneath one of the toilet stall dividers, like someone was sitting there holding their knees. And I remembered. That person in the last stall, sitting here alone some days.

Crying some days.

Today, they weren’t crying. Just…sitting there. And I wasn’t so sure what was worse. I wavered there for a long moment, brows knit, biting my lower lip and swaying from foot to foot as I lingered in indecision. Of course, bothering the stranger would be weird. It would be odd.

But…the fact that they were here again, in my path again…

Didn’t that mean I had another chance…?

I sighed, glancing at the door, before taking another look over my shoulder down the bathroom at the stall door. As I did, I caught another glimpse of my reflection. Haggard, tired, worn out, but…in my eyes I saw something new.

Worried.

I inhaled sharply and took the few paces needed to reach the last stall. I stopped in front of it and, with bated breath, gave the door three sharp knocks. To my surprise, the response was nearly instantaneous. “Occupied,” said a stern voice from inside.

Shit, shit, shit, I thought, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. Of course they didn’t wanna be bothered! Jesus Christ…

“You still there?” asked the voice, gentler this time.

I swallowed hard, blushing, and stared at the stall door like I was looking at the voice’s owner. “Um…just…checking if you needed, uh…toilet…paper…,” I said, and the excuse was lame even to my ears.

“Uh…,” responded the voice. “N-No, I’m good.”

Sweating, I nodded and turned on my heel toward the exit, ready to run all the way back home. But before I could push my way back out into the bookstore, I heard some shuffling, like the person was adjusting their position, and along with it, one simple phrase.

“Thank you,” the voice said, and suddenly it sounded like a child. Breathy, quiet, uncertain. Much like mine…

“Uh…yeah. Of course,” I said, clearing my throat as I stood awkwardly in front of the exit. “If…um…if you happen to need…toilet paper…you know, later on down the line…my name is Eunbyul and I’m here almost every day.” I stared at the bathroom door, heart hammering, awaiting their response.

And, quietly, one came in the form of a laugh. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll remember.”

I nodded and rushed out into the bookstore without another word.

As I rounded the corner from the bathroom hall, I caught sight of Seokjin behind the counter and wished I hadn’t. With flaming red cheeks and a hyper-awareness of my own social ineptitude, meeting with him was just about the last thing I was ready for. But when I glanced his way, I found him already watching me with a half-smile, resting his cheek in his hand as he chuckled a few times, one brow raised. Today his hair was styled out of his face, and he wore a tee that looked expensive. He looked a bit like a rich grad student or perhaps the son of some hotel chain.

He had the confidence for both.

“Eunbyul!” he called as I averted my gaze and attempted to slip past him.

I cursed under my breath and swiveled around to face him. I managed a tense smile and bowed my head in greeting. “Hey,” I said.

He smiled and beckoned me toward the register and, unable to find a reason to say no, I complied. Once I approached, he scrutinized me further, squinting his eyes as he looked at me from head to toe in the light of the unforgiving sunset.

“You look beat,” he said with a sigh. “Do you sleep enough?”

I blinked a few times, struggling for a response, but eventually settled for a grunt and a shake of my head. “No,” I said at last.

He hummed and clicked his tongue, leaning back to cross his arms. “Better work on that,” he said, then sighed. “I’m off in, like, thirty minutes. Wanna go get something to eat? My treat.”

I stiffened and waved my hands. “Ah, no, no. That’s fine,” I said, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes and reached out to flick my forehead. “I already decided anyway. Just wait for me, alright? Thirty minutes.”

I stared at him for a long time, brow furrowing. I couldn’t quite figure it out, but something was different today. Normally, an innocuous touch from Kim Seokjin would have sent my mind spinning like a top, but today…

Nothing, really.

I chomped down on my lower lip, puzzled, and nodded once. “Alright,” I said, and was surprised by how easily I relented.

But it would have been a lie to say I wasn’t curious. Not only about Seokjin, but about why today of all days talking with him didn’t give me butterflies…

I watched as Seokjin tended to the meat, smoke hanging low in the air of the barbecue joint. It was a short building near the beach with a decidedly adult crowd. All around were men in business suits and loosened ties, older women gossiping, clumps of people gathered here and there for two separate company dinners.

And then, in the front corner by one of the only windows, two twenty-somethings with two plates of meat and three bottles of soju.

My shot sat untouched beside my chopsticks, but Jin had helped himself as soon as we’d entered. I wasn’t counting, but he had to have been on his third by now as he struggled with the metal tongs and the hot stove. He grumbled all the while as he managed the flame, turned the pieces of pork, added bits of kimchi, and his brow was low, jaw set. Like it was a big labor.

I’d offered to do it myself multiple times, but he’d silenced me with a look every time.

Perhaps he liked controlling things like that.

“You must be hungry,” said Jin as he finally tore his attention from the grill to look at me with a flushed smile.

I raised my brows. “Hm?”

He raised the tongs to point to his lips and only then did I realize that, once again, I was touching my own. I quickly dropped my hand and offered a halfway smile. “Ah, yeah,” I said, grabbing my chopsticks. “Haven’t eaten much today.”

“With Kim Seokjin, you’ll eat like a king!” he said, following the statement with a loud, lilting laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile for real, just a little. I played with my chopsticks for a moment, making them walk across the table. “I can pay my share…”

“So you’ve said,” he began, eyeing me over the meat. “Three times.”

I chuckled. “Sorry,” I said.

He hummed. “If you’re sorry, take a shot with me!” he said, then paused. “Ah, once you’ve eaten something, of course.” He quickly began grabbing pieces of pork and placing them on my small plate, stacked one on top of the other. “Here.”

I bowed my head before taking the first bite. I had to admit, it was cooked nicely. Having grown up in an industrious family, I was used to first-rate barbecue from my dad, but Jin’s skills nearly matched. My eyes went wide.

“Good?” he asked, and there was a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

I nodded and held out a thumbs-up. “Mhm!” I said, taking another bite. “Really good.”

He sighed and nodded. “As expected,” he said, taking a bite of his own. “You know, in high school whenever my friends and I would go out they’d always pay for my share so that I’d cook the meat.”

I raised my brows, another bite between my teeth. “Hm?” I asked. “Are you sure they weren’t using you?” As the joke left my lips, I regretted it. Who was I to be acting so familiar?

To my surprise, however, Seokjin simply laughed and nodded his head. It seemed he was more lighthearted than I thought. He waved his chopsticks, taking a sip of water. “Ah, is that so?” he asked through laughter.

We locked eyes across the small table and, for a few seconds, I waited in suspense for the moment my heart would race, the moment my palms would get sweaty, the moment my stomach would drop. But, as the eye contact continued, I was left with…nothing.

I cleared my throat and grabbed for my shot, holding it out across the grill towards Seokjin. “I’m ready for my shot now,” I said.

He smiled and clinked the rim of his glass against mine. “Cheers,” he said gently, tipping the shot back.

I followed suit, pressing the cool glass against my warm lips, letting the soju slide down my throat in one fell swoop. I winced a little as I returned to sitting straight and, with squinted eyes, met Seokjin’s gaze. He was already laughing at me.

“Don’t drink often?” he asked.

I hissed just slightly as I exhaled. “Ah,” I began. “You can tell?”

He laughed. “Just a little.” He met my eyes with a smirk. “So…your boss? The pottery guy?”

I raised my brows, already pouring both of us another shot. “Jimin? What about him?”

“Has he…you know, taught you anything cool? About pottery?” asked Seokjin as he took a sip of his shot.

I took a sip as well and hummed. “Yeah. A lot, actually,” I said, then waved my hand. “It’s probably boring though.”

“Mm…,” he continued, tapping a finger against the wooden table, eyes down. “Well, I always see you reading about…like, mysteries and stuff, right?”

I blinked a few times, the alcohol warming my skin, and met his eyes. “Jin, are you making small talk?” I asked.

He stiffened, eyes round. “Uh, well…I was just…,” he began, then stopped and gave a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s just…with the meat cooked and the cheers done…I guess…”

And suddenly I felt the nervous part of me settle back into place. I exhaled in a sigh and smiled. “No social lubricant,” I said with a nod. “I get that.”

He met my eyes with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” I said, taking another bite of meat. “Like, at the bookstore it’s easy to find things to talk about, right? Since it’s work. No need to manufacture conversation topics.”

“Right!”

“But…one on one in a new place…it’s harder, isn’t it?” I asked, smiling.

He nodded, snapping his fingers. “Exactly.”

I chuckled. “I didn’t know you felt that way too.”

“Ah, well…,” he started, laughing a little. “Contrary to how I seem, I’d consider myself quite the introvert.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, then sighed, resting his cheek in one hand and popping a piece of pork in his mouth with the other. “Probably one of the reasons I wanted to reach out to you in the first place.”

I nodded, sipping my soju. “Hm…”

“Sorry, was that offensive?” he asked. “I’m not trying to imply that you, like…need someone to reach out to you.”

I smiled. Where I would have fumbled with my words and taken to going silent, it seemed Seokjin tended to talk more. Much like Jimin. “I get it,” I said. “I don’t really know how to interact with people,” I said, but as the words came out the felt like deja vu. “Or maybe…I can interact if there’s no pressure. If I don’t feel like I’m…,” I continued, but still the words perplexed me, “in the way or…being a burden.” When had I said these exact words?

Seokjin nodded once more and exhaled, like he was relieved. “Well thank God that’s outta the way,” he said, pouring another shot for both of us. He raised his glass for me to bump, and I did with furrowed brows.

That sentence…that interaction…it was so jarringly familiar. Like I remembered something but only in stranded pieces, like the answer was there in my brain, filed somewhere just barely out of reach.

Jin tipped back his shot, and I didn’t waste any time in doing the same. Frustrated, I took the shot down and poured another.

“Eunbyul, please, just…tell me your address!” whined Seokjin as I leaned heavily against him, both of us walking in an unsteady line down the sidewalk.

I shook my head, shutting my eyes and stumbling just slightly. “No! I don’t give my address to strangers. No, no.”

“We aren’t strangers!” he protested, groaning. He dragged me beside him like a limp doll.

I dug my heels down into the sidewalk and Seokjin skidded to a halt, whipping around to pout at me. “Okay, then what’s my address?” I asked, placing both hands on my hips and staring at him through half-open eyes.

He scoffed. “I don’t know it!”

“Then we’re strangers. Friends know,” I said with a nod, turning on my heel to walk staunchly back to the restaurant.

“No, no! Eunbyul, the shop is closing, we gotta go!” he said, grabbing me by the crook of the elbow.

I shouted and tried to thrash out of his grip. “Hey!” I shouted, turning to glare up at him. “You can’t just grab women! Or men! Or non-binary people! You-you can’t just grab people!” I said, shaking my head.

He sighed, gripping his nose bridge. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.

I sighed and swayed a little. “Take me home, Jin,” I commanded, pointing my finger at him.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Huh! Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I asked, stumbling closer with my finger pointed squarely at him. “Are you disrespecting me?”

He laughed, leaning away from me as I stood an inch away from him. “No, Eunbyul. I’m trying to get you home.”

I hummed. “Well I don’t give my address to strangers,” I said, smirking as I crossed my arms.

He groaned. “This is going nowhere,” he said, sighing as he turned his back to me. He bent a little at the knees and patted his lower back with one hand.

“What kind of pose is that?” I asked, laughing.

“Not a pose,” he said, peeking at me over his shoulder. “Hop on.”

I raised my brows. “On your back?”

“Yeah. You’re slowing us down anyway,” he said. “And since you won’t give me your address, I’ll just take you to my place until you sober up. It’s a block away.”

I hummed and sauntered toward him, draping my arms over his shoulders and holding tight. He grabbed both of my thighs and stood up straight. “I haven’t had a piggy-back ride in years,” I giggled into his ear.

He nodded with a grunt, adjusting me on his back. “Mhm.”

“Hey, is your heart racing?” I asked, patting his chest with my palm. “Having someone so close?”

His laugh rang out into the near-empty street. “What am I, a middle schooler?” he asked.

I chuckled. “No,” I said. “Big middle schooler.”

“I’m too smart to be a middle schooler anyway,” he said with a sigh, our pace slow as we walked down the night-drenched sidewalk. Streetlamp's punctured the darkness only every now and again. I was briefly relieved that Seokjin was here.

“You didn’t answer though,” I said, letting my head loll forward so I was closer to his ear. “Is your heart racing? Like badump-badump,” I said, laughing as I blew a puff of air against his skin.

He gagged. “God, you’re giving me goosebumps!” he exclaimed. “And the answer is no, alright?”

“Hm…,” I said with a nod, shutting my eyes as I rested my head against Jin’s shoulder. “Me either. Weird, huh?”

“I must not be your type,” he said with a laugh.

I smiled. “I guess not,” I said, yawning as I nestled into his back. Somehow, it was warm and comfortable and the siren song of sleep was inescapable.

My head throbbed as I peeled my eyes open, finding myself lying on my side in the darkness. It took me several disorienting moments to realize where I was. The pitch blackness, the vague chill amongst the absolute absence of feeling…

“Eunbyul,” said a voice from beside me.

I turned and found Namjoon, sitting by my thigh with squinted, tired eyes and a soft dimpled smile. I sighed, relieved to remember it all again. “It’s Namjoon!” I said, pushing myself up to sitting and collapsing against his chest. As my chest collided with his left pectoral a slew of giggles escaped me. “Oh no,” I said, laughing against him.

He placed gentle hands on my shoulders and guided me back, brows furrowed as he scrutinized me in the dark. “You…are you drunk right now?” he asked.

I sniffled a little and reached grasping fingers out toward his torso, eager to hug him close again. “Mm, a little,” I said, then laughed again. “A lot.”

He sighed, gripping his nose bridge, and shut his eyes for a moment. In an instant, we arrived in a nice apartment, furnished monochromatically with greys and blacks and whites and blues. Directly behind me was a nice white sofa and a big television screen. Wide-eyed, I looked around me with a grin. The kitchen adjoined the living room, and the floor was chilly. Polished tile. I ran a finger along it and laughed.

“Wow,” I said as I glanced around.

Namjoon nodded, standing and walking quickly into the kitchen. He rifled around in the big fridge and produced an ice pack, falling once again to his knees beside me. “Not sure what good it’ll do since we’re in a dream, but it’s worth a shot,” he said, placing the pack along my hairline.

I hummed, nodding once with shut eyes as the pleasant cold spread across my skin. “Feels nice,” I mumbled. “Ahh, but where is this?” I asked, opening only one eye to peer at him from above the rims of my glasses.

He chuckled and helped me to my feet, guiding me to rest on the couch. He joined me with a thump and a sigh. “It’s my apartment. Well…the one I share with a senior from college.”

“Ah, so you live with a friend?” I said, smiling with a nod. “Good! Now I don’t have to worry.”

He laughed. “You were worried?”

I nodded, eyes shut, and leaned back against the couch. “Mhm,” I said, then jumped and snapped my fingers, eyes wide. Namjoon stared at me, clearly startled, and grabbed my shoulders to keep me from moving too much. I turned to him. “You came to the shop today.”

He exhaled slowly and nodded. “Ah, that?” he asked, releasing me. He turned a little bashful, rubbing his arm with a shy smile. “I’m commissioning Jimin.”

“He’s talented!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “Really good, really.”

Namjoon turned to me and chuckled. Carefully, he twisted around and grabbed the thick blanket draped over the back of the couch. He returned to me with a gentle, tired smile and placed the blanket over my legs and torso, grabbing the fallen ice pack and replacing it atop my head. I offered him a slow smile and, without thinking much, reached out and pinched his cheek.

He laughed, grabbing my hand so I’d stop squeezing his skin, and instead simply interlaced our fingers. I felt my face go hot and forced myself to look away, look back at the coffee table. “I saw you there,” I said, and the drunken haze relented for just a moment. “For a second, but I knew somehow.”

“You knew what?” he asked, leaning in to get a better look at me.

I leaned back, flushed. “I dunno. Just knew.”

He smiled and that did me in. The dimples, the rows of perfect teeth, the way his eyes got smaller like he really meant it. My heart kicked up, stomach fluttering. I blinked at him for a moment. “Hey, I wanna kiss you. Is that alright?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His smile vanished and it was his turn to go red. “Huh?” he asked, eyes round, innocent. “W-wait, you’re drunk, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then no,” he said, pulling back a little.

But I kept a firm hold on his hand. “But I want to.”

He laughed, eyeing me from a safer distance, still beautiful even in the dim apartment. “Tomorrow night then. If you’re sober.”

“I can be sober,” I said with a nod. I released his hand and crossed my arms, clearing my throat. I settled my gaze on him and locked my jaw, nodding again. “Sober.”

He laughed once more and shook his head, and it was clear he was now on guard. “No,” he said.

I sighed, collapsing back against the couch. “You’re right. I’m drunk,” I said with a laugh. “It’s your fault anyway. Seeing you today made me feel weird.”

He chuckled. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well…I saw you too. I was watching you at the wheel,” he said with a wistful sigh, eyes going faraway. “You looked…really cool.”

I laughed. “Me? Cool?”

“Really cool,” he said. “You looked…peaceful, I guess. Your hands anyway. That’s all I could see.”

I hummed. “I messed it up.”

He glanced out the window behind my head, at the full moon, and smiled just barely. “Did you?” he asked. “Isn’t that normal though?”

I stiffened. “Huh?”

“Isn’t it normal to mess up sometimes? So that you can get better?” he asked.

I blinked, eyes wide, and stared right at him. At the peaceful smile on his lips, the warmth in his gaze, the way his skin went gold in the low light. “You sure I can’t kiss you?” I asked, persistent as my heart kicked up again.

He laughed. “No,” he said, eyeing me. “What’s gotten into you? Is this how you are when you drink?”

I pouted, crossing my arms and leaning away from him. “No,” I said. “As a matter of fact, it’s not. I didn’t even feel anything tonight for Jin and he carried me back to his place.”

At this, Namjoon’s smile vanished and he squared his gaze on me without a hint of playfulness. Deathly serious, his brow furrowed. “He took you back to his place?”

I covered my mouth. “No! Not like that,” I said. “I didn’t wanna give him my address so…”

He exhaled loudly, glancing back at the floor. “Byul…”

“I promise! I don’t have feelings for him anymore,” I said, shaking my head and lifting my arms to form an X in front of my chest. “Not at all.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

I nodded. “He’s nice.”

Namjoon eyed me, skeptical. A few tense moments passed that way, me desperately and drunkenly attempting to sate his concerns and him watching me carefully. He raised one brow. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

I shook my head and patted my hands against the couch. “No!” I whined. “I’m certain. Even today, without my memories, I didn’t feel anything and that’s what made me feel weird, you know?” I asked, sighing. “I think from the start it was just because of one thing.”

“Huh?”

“Why I liked him in the first place,” I said, running a hand through my hair and knocking the ice pack onto the floor. I stared down at it with a sigh, my attention stolen. “He reminded me of a boy I knew when I was a kid. Confident and handsome and smart. Someone I could depend on,” I said, then laughed. “But he’s not like that at all!”

“You realized that?” asked Namjoon.

I nodded, then paused to cough a little. “Ah, you know, when I was a kid I got lost? For a few days, you know? I got lost in the woods and couldn’t find my way out,” I said, laughing. But an old ache returned, an old anxiety. And laughing didn’t fix it. I paused. “Mm…it was scary.”

“You never told me that,” he said softly, watching me from across the couch.

I laughed again and patted his arm. “Don’t look guilty! It’s not your fault,” I said with a sigh. “Ah, anyway, I don’t have feelings for Seokjin. I promise,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.

Namjoon raised his brows and, tentatively, took my hand in his, shaking twice. “I mean…I don’t really have any right to tell you who and who not to like…”

“You still don’t believe me!” I exclaimed, tearing my hand away. I stood to my feet and crossed my arms, staring down at him with a glare. “How can I prove it?”

He chuckled and shook his head, reaching out to gently touch my waist with one hand. “You don’t have to, alright? It’s fine. We…we’re in a very unique situation.”

“Hah! It still sounds like you don’t believe me,” I protested, frustrated. I bent at the waist so our eyes were level and I noticed his go wide. “Tell me the truth. Are you regretting confessing to me last night?” I asked.

He stiffened. “Huh? What-no! Not at all,” he said, laughing. “What would give you that idea?” he asked, his thumb rubbing into my side, comforting.

I inhaled sharply. “Well you don’t believe me about Jin, and you won’t let me kiss you. I’m wondering if you regret it,” I said, throat constricting. “I wonder if you’d be relieved if I liked Jin.”

He raised his brows. “What? I’m only saying no because you’re drunk,” he said with another laugh.

“Don’t laugh!” I said, eyes teary. “I think I really like you, okay?”

He barely contained another laugh behind one hand and shook his head. “Me too.”

“Even now?”

“Somehow, yeah,” he said.

I knitted my brow, still bent uncomfortably to look at him close. And, too soon, I felt that distinctive tug in my chest. Namjoon’s eyes flashed with panic, and I knew he’d felt it too. We locked gazes and I felt my heart begin to race.

“A-a peck then,” I said, raising my brows.

He laughed, tossing his head back, his hand still warm against my waist. “You’re still on that?”

I nodded. “Since we’re waking up soon anyway…,” I said, pouting. “What’s the harm?”

He smiled. “You’re a good salesman,” he remarked, laughing again.

“Is that consent?” I asked.

Again, through laughter, he responded. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod, placing both of my cold hands against his warm cheeks. I bent down just a little closer and, wordlessly, pressed a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled over in the sheets.

I yanked my glasses off my face and tossed them aside, but as soon as I did I regretted it as I heard them clatter against the ground. Strange. Normally, I’d have enough space in my bed to toss my glasses onto the other pillow. Slowly, I peeled my eyes open and saw to my surprise that not only was the bed smaller — a full instead of a queen —, but the sheets were unfamiliar and the scent wasn’t mine.

I jerked upright, but as I did my head began spinning and I felt I might vomit. I held a hand firmly against my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut, holding it in. I tried to manage my breathing, but I felt remarkably ill.

Of course, it was a hangover.

I opened my eyes once more and glanced around, running a hand through my knotted, slept-on hair. The clock on the wall read 4:03. Jin’s apartment was small, a studio, with sparse furniture and few decorations. It seemed the most expensive thing in the whole apartment was a pretty, large media setup complete with fluorescent keyboard and gaming computer. I’d only seen those sorts of things in videos online. Wincing, I looked around once more, but like the first time I found no Seokjin in the dark studio apartment.

Carefully, I swung my legs out over the bed and, trying not to disrupt my equilibrium too much, padded across the faux wood floor to the kitchen in search of water. As I passed the old sofa, I noticed a few pillows and a blanket strewn haphazardly across it. He’d given me the bed to sleep on the couch? Softly, I smiled and folded the blanket, laying it across the back of the couch. I reorganized the pillows and made a halfhearted effort to remake the bed.

The security system sang a little tune and Seokjin entered, popping off both shoes and flicking on the light before even noticing I was up and walking. But when we met eyes, we both shouted in surprise.

“Ah!” he screamed, dropping the grocery bags he’d been carrying. Startled by the sound of groceries hitting the floor, he jumped and I fell to my knees to help recollect the fallen goods. “Shoot, when did you wake up?”

I shook my head, but even that made me want to barf. “Um, just a few minutes ago.”

He sighed as we finished repacking the food and led the way into his kitchen where he set the bags on the counter. “Sorry I was out. I realized I didn’t have any real food, so I…,” he said, then waved his hand. “Let me go open the window or something. Smells like alcohol in here.”

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, watching him

He maneuvered around me, hopping over a few miscellaneous clothes and household items strewn on the floor to the window. “Ah, couldn’t sleep. I was…kinda worried,” he said with a laugh. Like it was no big deal.

He pulled the curtains up and swung it open, letting fresh summer morning air leak inside. The sky was lavender with the breaking day, and the cityscape looked all too big from behind Seokjin’s small window.

I began unpacking the groceries quietly, sighing as I placed a bell pepper on the countertop. “I’m…I’m really sorry about last night, Seokjin.”

“I told you to call me Jin, right?” He searched my face with a smile and, upon finding none, simply sighed. He joined me and rested a hip against the counter, crossing his arms. “Hey, don’t be sorry. It was…mostly fun,” he joked, shoving my shoulder.

I laughed and nodded, rubbing my aching head. “I guess so.”

“If you feel bad, help me make breakfast,” he said with a grin. And, of course, I couldn’t say no.

But as I began removing packages of food from the plastic bags, I began to feel that tingly sensation in my lips again, and my focus wouldn’t waver as I touched my lip with a fingertip.

Seokjin worked the stove as I chopped vegetables. He’d insisted upon fried rice for breakfast. Something about oil and carbs being good for hangovers. I wouldn’t have known any better anyway. So instead of questioning him, I simply chopped.

“Sorry for…you know, the state of this place,” said Seokjin with a sigh as he swirled oil and rice around in the pan.

I raised my brows. “Hm?”

“I know it’s small,” he said, chuckling. “And messy. And outdated. And kinda empty.”

I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said, meeting his eyes gently with a smile. “I think it’s fine.”

He smiled and laughed lightly. “Thanks for saying that, but I know it’s not much,” he said, once more sighing. “I moved out of the house when I was seventeen and this was the only place that would take a kid that young with no job, so I just haven’t left.”

“You left home?” I asked, eyeing him.

He nodded, adding in the kimchi and peppers. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at the food. “I guess that’s surprising, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, my home life wasn’t so healthy. I had to leave otherwise I’d have ended up in a bad situation,” he said, waving one hand and wielding a spatula with the other. “Anyway, I’m making okay money now, but moving sounds like a chore. Besides, the more I save the more fun things I can buy.”

I smiled. “Like your gaming setup?”

He grinned brightly at me with a nod. “Yeah, exactly,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t wanna be house poor or car poor or anything like that. I’d rather live someplace shitty but do what I like.”

“Hm…,” I said. “I’ve never really thought of it that way.”

“Do you think less of me?” he asked, but the conscious look my way made it clear he was only joking halfway.

I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said, sliding the broccoli toward him. “I’ve just been learning a lot lately. About…the different ways people live their lives. I guess…it kinda makes me feel better knowing there’s no one way to live. That there are billions,” I said, then shrugged. “I guess it’s comforting to think there’s no metric, you know? No way to conclusively measure a person.”

He was quiet for a long moment before laughing a booming laugh. I jumped, turning to face him with wide eyes. “That’s the most you’ve ever spoken to me,” he said, still laughing.

I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

He laughed again and smacked my arm. “I’m not saying it’s bad,” he said, still smiling. “It’s…cool, I guess. To hear that that’s what you think. I didn’t know you thought about those things.”

“Doesn’t everybody think of those things?” I asked.

He eyed me. “Hey, how old are you?”

I stiffened. “Twenty-two,” I said.

He smirked, crossing his arms. “I’m older than you, kiddo. You’d better start speaking to me more respectfully.”

I raised my brows. “How old are you then?”

“Older than you.”

I gaped. “I told you my age!”

“And since I’m older I reserve the right to not respond,” he said, laughing once I scoffed in disbelief.

“That’s not fair at all!” I shouted, wagging a finger at him. “We live in a democratic society where a person’s value isn’t related directly to their age!”

He laughed again. “This is Korea!”

“So?!”

He continued laughing for a long moment before settling down with a simple smile. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you yell,” he said.

I blinked at him, swallowing hard. “Well…you provoked me,” I said, sheepish as I crossed my arms.

He chuckled. “Say…I don’t have, you know, all that many…friends,” he said.

I raised my brows. “Huh?” Why was he telling me this?

He hummed a little, tending to the food with his back to me. But I suspected he was a bit nervous. “I feel like we get along well, that’s all,” he said with a shrug. “So…if you wanna hang out some more sometime, just…call or something, okay?”

I stiffened. Isn’t this the part where I get nervous? Where my heart skips? Where my stomach flips? Why, then, was I simply standing dumb on the linoleum floor, watching Seokjin’s broad back as he worked over the food, feeling nothing but platonic fondness?

I swallowed hard, touched my lip, and nodded once. “I…I’ll do that then.”

“You what?!”

I winced, still sensitive as my hangover began to dissipate, and eyed Gaeul from across the living room where she slaved over the peak of a mountain on her mural. She stared at me over her shoulder with her mouth agape, eyes like saucers.

“I slept over,” I said, shrugging as I peeled garlic cloves, setting them aside in a bowl as Gaeul had instructed.

“So that’s why you never came home for movie night?” she asked through disbelieving laughter.

I sighed. “It wasn’t like that,” I groaned, rubbing my head against the bright work lights Gaeul had set up in front of her mural.

She scoffed. “How do you know?” she asked, smirking as she returned to adding scraped of white down the side of the mountain.

“Because…I didn’t really feel anything special,” I said, nodding.

She stopped for a second before regaining her blasé rhythm and hummed. “Weird.”

“Yeah…,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip. It felt weird today too, just like before. Like I’d been stung by something, or like static. “Anyway, I think we’re friends.”

She chuckled. “Only you would go to a man’s house for the night and leave as friends,” she said, shaking her head.

“Well…,” I mumbled, still peeling the soaked garlic.

“I guess you lost feelings then,” she said absently. “Wonder why.”

I shook my head. “Dunno.”

She smirked, eyeing me. “Maybe you like someone new now,” she remarked before returning to her art.

And something about the phrase hit me weird, like a shove to the chest. I sat there, puzzled, for a long moment. Garlic clove in one hand and knife in the other, sitting criss-crossed in front of the coffee table, slack-jawed.

Even though that was impossible, even though I definitely didn’t have those feelings for anyone else…

Still I couldn’t help but sit there and ponder it.

Because, as I thought about it more, the sensation on my lips…felt vaguely like being kissed…

[mythicamagic]

Swimming in Silk - Chapter 13

Training in front of her, engaging her in conversation and now lending her his clothes…Kagome is starting to suspect that Sesshoumaru is trying to gain her attention.

Sesskag - Romance, Humour, Drama, Angst

Rated M - As always you can read this story on Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

Chapter One - here       Chapter Three - here    Chapter Five - here

Chapter Two - here        Chapter Four - here       Chapter Six - here  

Chapter Seven - here    Chapter Eight - here    Chapter Nine - here          Chapter Ten  - here    Chapter Eleven - here     Chapter Twelve - here

Chapter Fourteen - here

Warning: Smut (this chapter is kind of filler? Maybe? Ah well, we're heading to angst town after this chapter~)

Embracing Eccentricity

A loud crash thundered through the Western Lord's bedroom. The latticework caved in, stray pieces of wood landing atop a soaked Inuyasha, He quickly stood, glowering at his brother through the sizeable hole in Sesshoumaru's door.

"Fucking bastard," he snarled.

Kagome gaped, standing from the wooden tub Inuyasha had just been unceremoniously flung from. "Wait just a second!" She exclaimed, grabbing Sesshoumaru's sleeve. "What's going on? Inuyasha, how are you here too?"

The Hanyou growled, automatically groping for the sword usually at his side, but Tetsusaiga had been left back at the Higurashi shrine. "Ain't like I know! I just saw ya disappear through this screen thing and I followed. Got lost in some weird pink water before I saw your feet and swam to the surface." He dismissed, refocusing on his anger. "Good thing I did, since it led me to this asshole!" Inuyasha tore through the remainder of the sliding door. He raised a fist, striking at Sesshoumaru- who gracefully dodged, grabbing his arm.

Kagome winced as another crash sounded out. The two bodies had blurred through the air, flying outside and hitting the ground, skidding along the grass as their youki energy clashed.

"That's enough you two!" Kagome raced out onto the porch, clutching her wet clothes. They ignored her, red and white colours blurring around the garden and occasionally knocking the other into a tree- snapping branches- or into the ground, sending dirt flying. A whip of light slammed into Inuyasha, knocking him off his feet and landing hard onto the ground once more. Sesshoumaru landed in a billow of white silks, standing over him.

The Hanyou growled loudly. He jumped up- clawing into the air ceaselessly as he continually missed Sesshoumaru, who dodged like the very air were a part of him. Kagome's brows drew together, her throat constricting as Inuyasha kept trying. This wasn't the same as their usual fights. He looked desperate, enraged as he fought to land just one hit.

"It's your fault!" He burst, snarling as he ducked down low and tried an uppercut. "It's all your damn fault!"

Kagome's feet carried her forward, and before she realised it, she was running onto the grass. She threw her palms up- raiding a shield. Inuyasha's fist slammed into the pink barrier that rippled between the brothers. Hard gold eyes swung her way.

"Please calm down, Inuyasha," Kagome said softly, wilting inwardly at his withering glare. She stiffened when guards appeared from thin air, bringing their spears down and pointing them at the Hanyou. They completely surrounded him in no time.

Inuyasha stilled, eyes narrowing as his claws flexed. Blood lust flashed in his eyes, lighting them vibrant red.

"Stand down," Sesshoumaru muttered dismissively.

"W-we heard noises, my Lord. We thought the walls had been breached."

"This one would have sent word if that were the case," he cooly replied, something flashing in his eyes when they did not immediately comply with his orders. The guards quickly drew they weapons away.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kagome dissipated her shield, trembling a little from the cold. The guards bowed and strode away out of the garden, leaving them alone. Kagome glanced at Inuyasha, who remained glaring at the ground, fists clenched.

"... Come," a palm settled on her lower back. Kagome automatically gravitating closer, lured in by Sesshoumaru's reverent gaze. He ushered her to the porch, where she paused, glancing over her shoulder.

"Inuyasha?" She murmured.

The Hanyou tsked, glowering at Sesshoumaru, who sighed. "You may as well follow. We can discuss any...grievances inside."

White triangular ears lowered, pressing against his skull. Inuyasha grimly nodded. He padded forward, hesitating when three servants hurried down the pathway to Kagome, brushing past him.

"My Lady, you've returned." Chiyo smiled.

Kagome awkwardly nodded, "Uh yeah-"

"Please allow us to help you change. You must be freezing."

Kagome glanced at Sesshoumaru, who rose a brow. "Oh- um...thank you, I'll do that. But, you know, Inuyasha is also soaked."

The servants glance at him, almost as an afterthought, bowing apologetically. "Forgive us, can we be of service and bring you new robes?" A servant asked.

Inuyasha growled, folding his arms. "These are my damn clothes, you ain't getting your hands on them, I'll be fine- see." He suddenly shook himself off, much like a dog, sending droplets into the air. The servants squeaked, while Sesshoumaru boredly rose a sleeve, protecting himself and Kagome from the stray flecks. Kagome couldn't help but feel a little happy though. He was protective of his new clothes?

"I-I see, very good," Chiyo winced. The ladies turned to Kagome and eagerly ushered her away, dragging her to a room before she could protest.

They hurriedly dried her and combed the damp hair back from her face. Kagome felt herself be twisted and turned, until she was prodded into a reception room for guests, clad in a simple but tasteful blue yukata.

Inuyasha sat opposite his half brother at a low table, glaring hard. Kagome awkwardly took her seat beside Sesshoumaru, hating how formal it all felt. She glanced between the two glowering men and sighed when the silence continued.

"Okay, Inuyasha. You're clearly upset-"

"No I ain't."

"-But how about you try to just go through what you're angry about? With more words and less punching." She finished.

"It's not like talking has ever helped before, but whatever." He grumbled, hand clenching into a fist. He levelled a weighty stare right at his brother. "Why did you close the well?" He asked quietly.

Sesshoumaru met his gaze unflinchingly, not ashamed in the least. "This one was concerned with Kagome's mortality."

"Then why the hell trap me in the future too!?" Inuyasha burst, baring his teeth. "It doesn't make any damn sense."

Pale lashes lowered as the Daiyoukai seemed to mull over how to answer. "Hanyous like you will last perhaps 250 to 300 years more at a stretch. She would have lost you too, had you stayed in the village."

Inuyasha started, trembling slightly. "That wasn't your choice to make...Asshole." He swung his attention to the miko. "Why aren't you pissed about the well too?"

Her hands clenched. "I..." she swallowed, setting her shoulders. "I'm sad you were trapped against your will, but as for me, I just can't find it in me to be angry." She gave a rueful smile. "There's so many other things going on right now."

Her best friend sneered, folding his arms. Kagome's brows drew together, turning her gaze to Sesshoumaru as a thought occurred to her. "There's something else you're not saying. Isn't there?" She asked softly.

Intense gold slid to her. "Admittedly I had no insurance I'd survive to your time. Though it is ridiculous to think that I could be killed- if you were with Inuyasha then..."

Her heart skittered and tripped in her chest. "You trapped him in the future with me so that I wouldn't be alone if you died? If you never made it to my time." She stared at him in mute shock, unsure what to think about that.

The table jolted as Inuyasha stood, baring his teeth. "You don't get to decide that shit on your own! It's my life! Maybe I wasn't meant to live in Kagome's time!"

"So the thought of her being alone in the future doesn't bother you?" Sesshoumaru cooly replied.

"She could have stayed in this era with me- with our friends!"

A cold breeze seemed to fan out from Sesshoumaru's icy stare. His words were measured and cold. "Then she would be dead at this point. This one did what was necessary. What you would be too weak or sentimental to do."

Inuyasha snarled- the noise dying in his throat as he slammed his fist forward once more- only to feel a steel grip close over his fist. The perfect nails were painted magenta.

"I sensed drama and made haste to see what the fuss was about~" A silky voice purred. Inukimi's eyes sparked with amusement, gliding from Hanyou to miko. "Now I'm immensely pleased I did so. It's been a while, little mate."

Kagome blinked in surprise, nodding with relief. "I'm really glad to see you here, Lady Inukimi."

Inuyasha reeled, not quite computing that the demoness had blocked his punch. Her disarmingly warm eyes glided to him, voice cooling into something deadly. "No fighting in the house, boys."

She released him with a dismissive flex of her fingers. The Hanyou stared, looking between the two demons as Inukimi motioned for a servant to come in, carrying tea. He opened his mouth before Sesshoumaru interjected. "Yes, she is my mother, foolish half breed."

Kagome nudged his elbow with her own, shooting him a look.

"Keh, figured as much. Now I see where you get your girly looks from, ya definitely take after the broad-" Inuyasha had been snickering, but he suddenly quieted when Inukimi's nose stopped mere inches from his own. His ears automatically flattened. Kagome watched with amazement as he seemed to wilt, shrinking back until he seemed to register something was amiss.

"O-oi, what the hell are you doing?"

Ruby red lips curved up, and she flashed perfect teeth at him almost victoriously. "Just exercising pack behaviour. It seems you're demon enough to recognise when you should back down."

"H-hah? As if I would!" Inuyasha's eyes flash. A low noise escaped her in response, lips peeling up further to expose sharp fangs. The Hanyou's head automatically turned in a flash, tilting to expose his neck. Yet his eyes widened in mortification and confusion.

Kagome bristled, but silken tones spoke up first. "Mother..." Sesshoumaru uttered, steel wrapped in velvet. He observed them quietly. "That's enough."

Bell-like laughter escaped her. "You're asking me to stop, when all you do is bully the poor whelp? I was merely playing."

Kagome noticed the line of tension in Sesshoumaru's jaw as he clenched it. Putting her hand on his arm, she forced a smile, still reeling from the odd sight. "So uh, what have I missed? How long has it been?" This seemed to distract Inukimi enough to lean away from Inuyasha.

"30 years," Sesshoumaru answered in an even tone, seeming grateful for the change in topic.

Her breath halted. "Oh," she worried her bottom lip, meeting his gaze. A warm palm closed over her hand and she quickly blinked away tears. She'd have to get used to this, but his calm acceptance only made her feel worse.

"Yes indeed, exciting developments have been taking place in your absence," Inukimi muttered, taking out her pipe and lighting it. She was seemingly heedless of Inuyasha's grimace, coughing when smoke wafted into the room. The servant placed a cup of hot tea in front of Kagome, who smiled and thanked her. Lifting it up, she inhaled the bitter scent.

More contraceptive tea. She glanced at Inukimi, who winked.

Kagome blushed, quickly focusing on the topic at hand. "I noticed there are more guards than before...they seemed worried the wall would be breached." She shot a questioning look at the demons.

Sesshoumaru's hand shifted over hers, stroking the thin skin over her knuckles. "Hn, there is bad blood between us and the local humans."

"W-what? But it wasn't like that before."

"Things change, little one," the demoness exhaled curling smoke. "I'd have thought you'd know that better than anyone. Since the barrier around the Western Lands broke years back, we have had to take caution."

Kagome's brow knitted, attention falling to the tea that she habitually sipped while her thoughts continued to churn. Bad blood? Kaito had mentioned something about the Western Lands being hidden from the humans because of the barrier. And he'd taken off to kill that hunter.

Deciding not to ask about that just now, wanting to wait until it was just Sesshoumaru, Kagome instead glanced around upon realising someone was missing. "Where's Shippo?"

Nails scraped her skin, lightly biting in and causing her to jolt. Sesshoumaru quickly flexed his fingers away from her flesh, demeanour changing subtly. "He is with the foxes," he uttered.

Silver hair shifted over Inukimi's shoulder as she inclined her head, eyes glittering. "Mn, my son believed it would be safer for him in their lands."

"He left to continue training with those that can better instruct him on his type of magic. It was for no other reason." He said in a low, deadly tone.

Inukimi exhaled smoke, only seeming more amused.

"Sesshoumaru?" The miko turned his attention back to her, brow furrowing when his eyes settled on her. So many emotions seemed at war within his eyes, belied by his calm, stoic mask.

Inuyasha tsked and poured himself some contraceptive tea. Kagome blinked and thought to say something- when he downed it and made a noise of disgust. At least it seemed to cheer Sesshoumaru up. Inuyasha huffed and stood, "feh, as much as sittin' here yappin' about nothing is thrilling, I'm gonna head to the village."

Kagome's heart skipped a beat, placing her tea down. "You shouldn't go there alone, Inuyasha."

"You will not be going at all."

Vague surprise skittered through her, and Kagome glanced at the warmth by her side. The Hanyou's hackles rose in response, lips peeling back to reveal gritted teeth. Kagome quickly spoke up, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"Maybe we should find out more about this time period before rushing off." Turning to Sesshoumaru once more, she tilted her head. "Kirara is back at the village, right? Does she need a disguise all the time now?"

When he gave a solemn nod, new fears bubbled to the surface of her chest. So, it had already started. Demons really were being snuffed out.

What's more, if it's been 30 years then Kohaku probably…

She quickly shook that saddening thought away. "Sesshoumaru's right, we shouldn't go-" she hurriedly carried on when Inuyasha made to protest. "Unless you can find a way to blend in with humans. Properly this time. No caps," she lightly teased.

"Ah, I see your mate favours the Foxes way of thinking," Inukimi observed wryly. She tapped her pipe, "Inuyoukai have too much pride to follow such an example."

Inuyasha tossed his head, folding his arms. "I ain't Inuyoukai." Something laced with the gruffness of his voice that the miko couldn't quite catch. Bitterness, perhaps. Or loneliness. "Besides," he carried on unperturbed. "That night is coming up in a few days, I'll be fine if I just go then."

Kagome blinked, before catching on. The New Moon.

She nodded in understanding, while Inukimi pouted. "No fair, keeping secrets."

After a tense supper was provided for the small group, servants returned to usher Inuyasha to his room.

"I don't wanna go with you or stay here. Sesshoumaru will probably gut me in my sleep," was his sneering reply. Kagome felt it probably had more to do with the fact that Inuyasha had never been welcomed into his father's house, let alone stayed the night.

She glanced at Sesshoumaru, mulling over whether to ask if they could stay with him to keep him company or have a sleepover. Suddenly the image of the Killing Perfection clad in pyjamas laying on his stomach with his ankles crossed in the air wouldn't leave her mind.

Hiding a grin behind her hand, her cheeks heated. Sesshoumaru arched a brow, but the look in his eyes was telling. He wouldn't be staying much longer in Inuyasha's presence. Kagome eased closer, also wanting to be alone with him and wondering if that made her selfish.

"My son will be much too busy with his mate to entertain the thought of you," Inukimi dismissed bluntly, smoothly rising from her seat while smoothing her furs. "However if you desire company, this one would be glad to-"

"I'M GOING!" Inuyasha dashed out of the room, dragging a hapless servant with him and barking for her to show him his damn room.

Inukimi gave a playful chuckle, gold eyes dancing with merriment. Her son however had paled considerably, steadily turning a sickly green. The demoness flashed a wicked grin at the remaining, stunned pair.

"You're welcome. Goodnight."

With a graceful turn of her heel, she left them behind, causing Kagome to bite her lip to stop herself from outright laughing. Sesshoumaru glanced at her, still reeling.

"She's got a way with words, huh?"

"Hn."

Her amusement died when her hand was lifted to thin lips, brushing feather-light and pressing firmer as something seemed to take hold of him. Kagome swallowed, breathing out shakily as the air suddenly became charged.

"Let's…uh- let's go to bed," she murmured.

He nodded shortly. With her heart drumming fast, the walk to his wing passed in a comparatively dull blur. Soon Kagome found herself standing in the centre of a guest bedroom, since the Western Lord's chambers would need to be repaired back to their former glory.

The door slid shut with a soft noise, but held an air of loud finality to it. Kagome glanced over the new room with feigned interest, finding the decor sparse, but in reality, she was just buying time. Heart hammering, blue eyes focused on him. He did not move from the door, face remaining unreadable. It was strange, but after Inukimi's behaviour with Inuyasha earlier, the miko felt a slight call to let instinct take over. It was odd and strange. Demon behaviour felt eccentric and bold, but she wanted to try. Something boiled hard and fast in her veins. Guilt, love, longing. The space they inhabited together right then held no room for logic or hesitance.

Sliding her heel back, Kagome slowly turned away slightly, showing her back. The normally disrespectful gesture was smothered by her gaze refusing to leave his, hands coming up to loosen her yukata. Glancing down at her fingers just for a moment to remove her obi, she caught the sound of weight shifting, stepping across the floor and causing it to creak. Kagome's eyes snapped up, finding him closer.

Blushing slightly, her body shifted to slide the material down, exposing the nape of her neck and bare shoulders. His mark stood out starkly against her skin. Black hair tumbled down her back, and she reached behind her to collect it, moving the strands to fall over her shoulder.

Kagome found herself pressed against the floor a moment later, landing with a dull thud. A strong arm had wrapped around her waist. Her palms and knees slightly ached, cheek resting against the floor. His body heat lingered dangerously close, the familiar warmth of him causing her to shiver. She didn't protest as she lay on her stomach, leaving her back exposed as the sleeves of the yukata clung to her elbows. Large palms slid out to lay flat on the floor, leaving her trapped beneath him.

Firm lips descended, pressing against the space between her shoulder-blades. Her bra was unhooked. Hot breath fanned over her flesh in waves of quiet pants. Kagome let her cheek rest against the hardwood flooring. It felt cool in contrast with the heat at her back. A faint gasp escaped her when teeth trailed up- scraping against the base of her neck. Her skin pricked and flushed. Long legs shifted, thighs pressing together. The softest of sighs escaped her. Tilting her head, she offered the smooth expanse of her throat to the hungry wandering of his lips.

Feeling herself be pressed harder against the floor as more weight settled against her, Kagome made a noise. The sublime feel of his hips rutted slowly forward and she expected him to continue. To take things further.

Hair tickled the nape of her neck, before she felt his forehead rest there. The demon released a quiet breath.

"Sesshoumaru?" She murmured. "What's wrong?"

"This one wanted everything to be stable upon your return, so that we could carry on as we always have," Kagome made a noise when she was suddenly turned. Landing on her back, her vision was swallowed by nothing but him. His hair hung forward, cutting off the rest of the world via a silver waterfall. "But it is not so this time."

Kagome shifted her legs to accommodate him, drawing one knee up to wrap loosely around his waist as she kissed his jaw. "That's fine, silly." She smiled warmly. "This is the Warring States Era. Tell me what's happening and we can work on finding a solution."

His eyes widened a touch, before gentling. He nodded, and Kagome made to move out from beneath him, only to hear a growl. She blinked, "um...I thought you meant right now?"

"Don't be a tease," soft dulcet tones purred. "Naturally this one is going to satisfy us both first. That half breed fool is not here to delay me any longer," he kissed her throat hungrily.

She gave a breathy laugh, before sobering. "I can't believe you trapped Inuyasha in the future for such a reason."

"Mn...if he hates it so much then he may stay here. Will that not be painful?" He asked, licking the expanse of her throat.

"Yes of course but- mn-" she gave a soft sigh. "Better than him being miserable. I want him to be happy."

"Hn, no more talk of him." Sesshoumaru uttered.

Bracing her arms on the hardwood floor behind her, Kagome obliged and lifted her hips so that he could slide her wet panties off. Sesshoumaru made a vague noise of confusion when Kagome leaned up suddenly- loosening his obi. Once free, she parted his clothing, pushing the grey silks aside, as he did not bare his crest today. Once his pale flesh was exposed, she gripped his shoulders and pushed him to sit back on his heels- straddling him.

"What are you doing?" He said thinly, raising a brow.

A rosy blush heated her cheeks, but she flashed a smile at him. "You seem overworked. Besides, it shouldn't be on you to 'satisfy both of us,' I'll give it a go this time."

Sesshoumaru didn't exactly know how to register her boldness when her hand slid between them. His hands latched onto her hips, digging his nails in when she lightly grasped the hardness that had been digging into her thigh. A harsh pant escaped clenched teeth and he made a rumbling noise, dropping his head to her shoulder when she started to rub him.

His cock hardened further with her attention, and Kagome blushed darker. Splaying a slender hand over his thigh, she felt his breath hitch against her shoulder. It was quite impossible not to find him beautiful. The pale body beneath her trembled slightly, muscles jumping while his claws flexed.

Hesitantly she lowered her mouth to his chest, kissing and licking the feverishly warm skin. Sesshoumaru leaned his head away, lips peeling back. When she reached his stomach, her mouth clamped over the magenta stripe on his hip. The demon gasped and hissed in warning. Flicking her tongue there, she moved down to his abdomen, nipping as she went- delighted when his muscles contracted.

He gasped and violently shuddered when she took him in her mouth.

"Kagome-" she bobbed her head in answer, taking him deeper. Sharp claws skimmed her scalp as he laced deadly fingers in her hair. "Gn...what are you?-"

She chanced a look up at him, startled to find a light flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his pointed ears. Magenta lids squeezed firmly shut.

Drawing her mouth off him, she blinked. "You okay?"

"Mn...it is merely that demonesses do not usually- I would not allow this." He groaned lowly as she swiped her tongue along the underside of his cock.

"Why no- oh..." she caught a hint of his sharp fang. "Their teeth are too sharp?" She ventured a guess.

"Indeed." His hips arched forward as she dragged her tongue over his length. Golden eyes cracked open to watch her, blazing. "The-" he hissed out a breath when she closed her mouth over him again,"-act could potentially be deadly."

Wow, is he babbling? Did I do that? Her eyes danced, continuing to pleasure him as she took him as deeply into her mouth as she could, making a noise when he tried to go deeper. She quickly withdrew before he completely lost control.

When he snarled- grip tightening in her hair, Kagome nipped his thigh. Reiki blossomed into her scent, cracking over her skin. "Let go," she muttered, blue clashing with gold when he didn't immediately comply.

Sesshoumaru panted, releasing her slowly, watching as black locks slid free from his claws. Kagome grasped his shoulders and straddled him once more, "I'm not done yet, don't get all snappy," she smiled.

Firm lips pressed to her neck while his hands slid down her back. His erection strained for attention, "this one will not last long now," he hissed.

For her, it had only been a short while since she'd last felt it. But she wanted him inside her more than anything. "That's alright...I'm more than ready," she murmured, lifting her hips and grasping him. When he snarled loudly, Kagome didn't waste time. Lowering herself, Kagome's breath halted as she took him inside her wet sex. When the head pushed in, prying further, Sesshoumaru's eyes snapped red. Feeling the beginning of a snarl rumbling deep from his throat- Kagome sucked in a heap of air and pressed her hips down against his, taking all of him in one go.

A scream was ripped from her- quickly muffled by firm lips. Sesshoumaru made a strangled noise, trying to smother it with her mouth. Kagome trembled atop him, feeling his cock ridiculously deep within. It pulsed, stretching her inner walls. It felt like he filled every corner of her body, hitting every nerve ending. Hesitantly, she tried to alleviate the tension by rutting her hips.

Their breaths intermingled, sharp claws pricking harder into her hips and drawing blood.

"I've missed you," the words come quietly between them. Kagome wasn't sure which one of them had spoken.

They began to move, bodies instinctually rutting. The miko moaned, rocking her hips back and then easing forward, feeling him hit a spot deep within her that curled her toes.

The firm heat of his palms against her skin grounded her, though she could barely feel the pricks of his claws. Sesshoumaru's hips met her motions, until a particularly hard thrust sent her reeling. Crying out, Kagome dug her own nails into his shoulders. "Gn- jerk..." she panted.

Sesshoumaru hissed, lips curving. Their noses brushed before he pulled back- thrusting in again with enough power to force the air from Kagome's lungs. Their pace became barely coherent to either of them. Harsh slapping sounds of their bodies continually meeting filled the room as Kagome's slick sex lured him in deeper.

Her entire body thrummed with pleasure, muscles taut as she rode the edge of her own climax. Not yet-

She tried to hold off, wanting to see him lose control. With a burst of epiphany, Kagome yanked him in closer, latching her teeth onto his neck over the mating mark. The sound that ripped its way from his throat came from somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach – a ragged, rumbling snarl that she felt as much as she heard.

Blazing red met her startled gaze, and Kagome cried out when a steel grip grasped her under her thighs. His own sharp teeth buried themselves in her shoulder, while a harsh rhythm began. His hips snapped up, burying himself inside her faster and faster. Kagome could barely keep up anymore, trying her damnedest to hold onto his shoulders. Crying out, she wrapped her arms around him, rocking her own hips down and angling them so that he hit a certain spot within her core. The action had her squeezing him like a vice.

His startled groan was drowned out by her own cries as the heat in her belly finally snapped. Searing white-hot pleasure shoot down to the tips of her toes. She sucked in greedy, ragged breaths, light exploding behind her eyes.

Sesshoumaru's teeth sank further until her blood coated his fangs. The reiki skittering over her skin unfiltered clashed with his youki, sending him careening over the edge- spilling his seed inside her with a hoarse, muffled snarl.

Kagome made a noise, feeling him fill her. Dropping her head to his shoulder, she soaked in his warmth and closeness. The feel of his bare skin and strong form against hers as her body hummed pleasantly. Teeth slowly pulled out of her skin, and she shuddered. Lapping away the blood, Sesshoumaru reverently licked over the fresh marks.

Feeling his thumb glide to her chin, Kagome looked up groggily, only to smile and accept one chaste kiss from his bloodied mouth.

[mlpdestinyverse]

“A New Day”

With some reflection, two old friends decide to move onwards.

Feat: Monochrome,  Skychaser 

CHECK OUT THE VISUAL NOVEL VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER! This link will lead you to Deviantart where the novel download and instructions are!

Story and Description Under The Cut

-In the dimming afternoon light, Skychaser finds his hooves leaving grass to clack against a stone pathway. Up ahead, the path leads to a well-kept house just outside of Ponyville, surrounded by trees with a small hill just to the left. He’s been here more than a couple of times, to visit a certain pegasus’ mother alongside them. It leaves him with a sense of familiarity, knowing a kind, hospitable ex-adventurer was behind these walls, most likely ready to welcome him with open arms. But he wasn’t here for her. He deviates from the path and instead approaches the hill topped with a few trees. The pony he's tracking down hadn't been at their Cloudominium. And if he knew his friend well enough, then…- ‘There you are…’ -He climbs to the top of the hill. The shape of a taller pegasus sitting on the other side of the peak, just in front of the trees, comes into view. Skychaser’s anxiety doubles at the sight...but he holds onto his resolve. He came here for a single purpose.- Skychaser: -slows to a stop a few feet away. He swallows, pushing himself to find his voice- ...h-hey...Monochrome. Monochrome: -ears turn at his voice. But otherwise they continue to stare off into the orange and golden hues of the setting sky before them- Skychaser: -bites his lip. It doesn’t help that he can’t see Mo’s expression from this angle. He feels his guilt resurfacing, and he slowly inhales-

...I’m sorry.

-his ears flatten against his head, gaze falling. The stress of facing Monochrome’s reaction, or lack of a reaction, triples. He presses on regardless- ....I won’t excuse how I acted. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just...want you to know how sorry I am. About everything I said. -lifts his head higher and focuses on Mo, his expression serious- I crossed a line. I-it was cruel and wrong, and- Monochrome: No. Skychaser: -winces and immediately shuts his mouth. The word makes him panic a bit. Was Monochrome rejecting him already? But he takes in Monochrome’s slumped body posture, and registers how soft their voice had been- I...what? Monochrome: -exhales deeply. They finally turn their head, their eyes tired and lidded as their eyebrows knit together- You weren’t...wrong. Skychaser: -frowns at this strange state his friend seems to be in. He cautiously steps closer until he’s beside Monochrome, sitting beside them- What d’you mean? Monochrome: -sighs, averting their green gaze to the ground- ...I’ve been thinking about it. What you said. And...I think you might be right. -remeets Sky’s questioning gaze- My brother said it once...that my mom tries. And I think a part of me knows she does. But… -pauses, as if struggling to find the right words- ...I wanted to stay frustrated, I think. I don’t know why. Maybe to keep myself from being disappointed again...? Or maybe it was just easier to avoid how she made me feel than to deal with it. -huffs, brushing some of their hair out of their face- Now that I’ve said it, that’s probably it…so you’re right. I’ve been shutting her out without making some sort of move to fix things. Skychaser: -nods in understanding. In his mind he’s aware of the tension in his body. Even if Monochrome’s venting to him, he’s not...completely sure how things are between them- ...I still shouldn’t have yelled at you. And well...said it the way I did. Monochrome: -pauses for a moment and looks off to the side, as if thinking- ...that’s what you can’t talk about, isn’t it? -hesitantly glances at Skychaser, as if wary of his reaction- Your family. Judging by how you worded what you said when we fought… Skychaser: -caught off guard, he finds himself instinctively avoiding their gaze. A habit he had developed, any time the subject had ever been risen in the past by anyone. Yet his silence is enough of an answer for the other pegasus- Monochrome: -their green eyes soften- I’m sorry too...whatever was going on, I never should have made it about me. Skychaser: -quickly looks back at Mo- No, it’s okay. You’ve been...through your own stuff. I get it. Monochrome: Well...I forgive you too, if that helps. -warmly nudges him with their shoulder- I’m just glad you’re you again. Skychaser: -feels himself relax, any strain in his muscles melting away. A part of him feels like he doesn’t quite deserve his friend’s forgiveness. But somehow he manages to ignore that voice. For now.- I’m...I’m glad, Mo. Really. -breathes in deeply and looks out to the sky, the colors gradually dimming to shades of purple- ...I know I keep a lot to myself. And...even now, I have a hard time talking about it. Let alone thinking about it.

Monochrome: -quietly nods, giving Skychaser their full attention- Skychaser: But now I know that I have more problems than I thought. And now that I know, I’m going to try to work on them. And...in time, I hope I can get myself to talk about it with you. Monochrome: I see... -frowns to themself- I should do that too. You know, figure out how to deal with this mess with mom. -mutters- Don’t know where to start, though... Skychaser: -smiles kindly- Well, tomorrow’s a new day, for both of us. There’s plenty of opportunities to make things better. If she’s making an effort, maybe you can meet her half way? Monochrome: -nods thoughtfully, soaking in these words. They, too, look back out at the dusk sky- Right... -The two sit in a comfortable silence. Sitting next to their best friend, watching the world slowly fall to night as Princess Celestia gradually lowers the sun....Skychaser feels more at peace than he has in a while. ...there was just one more thing he had to address.- Skychaser: ...hey Mo. -lowers his gaze, his uncertainty returning- ...about us. I think... Monochrome: This is over, isn’t it? Skychaser: -lifts his head in surprise- Monochrome: -the corner of their mouth twitches upward for a moment, and they shrug- A gut feeling, I guess...something feels different. Or maybe it’s felt a little different for some time now. Skychaser: -the corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile. He, too, had noticed it. That despite how they got along, their interests and personalities weren’t quite as romantically compatible as he had hoped the day he had jumped on asking his friend out, all those months ago- Yeah…it’s been fun, but something tells me we work better as friends. -rubs his foreleg- And I really want to take some time to work on myself anyway... Monochrome: This is for the best, then. Skychaser: Are you okay with it…? Monochrome: -becomes quiet for a moment. Sky manages to catch the unease that flickers through their eyes for the smallest of moments- ...we’ll still be friends, right? -draws their eyebrows in, appearing a bit self-conscious- Like...things won’t be weird between us? Skychaser: -chuckles and playfully hoofbumps Mo’s shoulder- As long as we don’t LET IT become weird, of course not. -offers a genuine smile- You’re one of the last ponies I’d want to lose, Mo. Monochrome: -notably relaxes, managing a small smile back- Same to you. -The two share their smile, mutually feeling at ease.- Skychaser: ...so uh...I didn’t want say anything but, -nervously laughs and sweats, confusing Monochrome for a moment- Can you...get Tank to stop glaring at me? I-I swear I can feel it on my back. Monochrome: (!) -whips around, only to find the turtle peeking around the tree behind them, half of his face hidden by the trunk as he gives Skychaser one of his turtley little squints. Monochrome snorts- Tanky, it’s okay. Me and Sky made up. No need to plan his demise. -Skychaser lets out a weak laugh, honestly unable to tell if Mo is joking or...not. But he also lets out a relieved sigh at the light-hearted air between them. He had managed to get past this hurdle. And tomorrow was a new day...he actually looked forward to it. Yet another opportunity to improve things, no matter how small the steps-

[it-is-reigning-men]

Most of the Time [Jeff Hardy x Reader]

Request for Anon: Where you live in North Carolina for just the summer and one day this guy comes sputtering through on his motorbike because he ran out of gas in your front yard. You help him out and get to know him and then he disappears until some days later he comes back and asks you for a ride. (This is when he was younger btw!)

A/N: For once this isn’t smut!! wow !! I hope y’all still enjoy my fluffy stuff. Plus a teeny bit of angst. I actually really enjoyed writing this out, though I took a lot of breaks because certain parts got rocky.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drugs/rehab

You needed the time alone.

It was weird to think that, when you were always complaining about the feeling.

That didn't change the fact you just needed to find something - god knows what - without any therapists or disappointed mother or fake friends to go giving you their "ancient wisdom."

After a lot of the usual yelling and door slamming, you'd managed to convince your mom (or really, your dad to talk to your mom) to let you have the old summer home in North Carolina. Maybe the thing that got her to let up and not force you along with them on vacation was that she thought the old house would get you to recall just how angelic you used to be. Or maybe she was just tired.

Whatever the reason, you didn't blame her. You were tired too.

...

The house wasn't huge, but it wasn't no 300 square feet; it was cozy as you remembered it, and honestly, what made it so comforting was having it all to yourself. You plopped down on the couch, curling into a blanket before switching the TV on. It only had the basic cable channels, but you weren't really watching it anyway... the dull noise helped you relax.

Days went on languidly, and it wasn't long before boredom set in. Contented boredom, but boredom nonetheless.

During the last week of your first month there, you emerged from the house and sat on the porch, eyes running over the grass of the front yard. It was hardly a yard, with long, dry pieces of grass sprinkled about.

You went around back to see if the lawnmower was still there. Indeed it was.

"Could use some... cardio, I guess."

Wheeling the thing out front, you managed to flatten out a good 2/3 of the yard before the damn motor died out; you were frustrated enough from spending at least ten minutes trying to get the thing running, so you left it outside.

Dragging your feet all the way back indoors, you splashed your face in the bathroom sink, before peeking into the mirror's medicine cabinet for some painkillers.

Okay.

So you weren't surprised the bottles you found were extremely expired, but you were more upset that you'd dived for medications even though your head was just barely throbbing. Maybe it wasn't even throbbing at all.

Weak.

You sighed, swiping all the contents of the cabinet into the trash can and tying the trash bag with a knot so you could dispose of it completely.

When you got to the porch again, chucking the small bag of garbage into the pickup bin, your ears picked up on something odd. A sort of sputtering, and it was getting closer.

The sputtering turned into an audible 'fuck.'

Well, maybe that was just the guy.

Staring blankly, you leaned against the porch fence as a young man rolled right into your yard from god knows where. The house was off of any main roads, but nearby a few forest trails, but nobody had ever bothered you till now.

He didn't even notice you as his motorbike's dirty wheels skidded onto your partially trimmed grass- just kept cursing to himself as he kicked the side of the vehicle.

"Great day, yeah?" You called, watching him dismount and snap his head up to look your way.

"The.. the damn greatest," he called back breathily, unclipping the strap of his helmet as he stepped to the middle of the grass.

"You just gonna stand there?" You taunted.

The man stripped off the helmet, finally, and tucked it under his arm, brows furrowed with a few drops of sweat rolling down his temple. His platinum blond and... blue streaked hair was pressed down, but after running a hand through it and giving it a pull there and a head shake here, it fluffed up a bit.

"Well, can't exactly ride off into oblivion like I intended now." He flickered his eyes fiercely back at his bike. "Ran outta gas."

You figured.

And you decided you liked his hair.

"And here I was thinking you were my shitty Fairy God Mother coming to pay me a visit," you drawled, rolling your eyes and trotting down your porch steps. He chuckled and started to raise his hand as if to get a proper greeting, but you walked right past him toward his bike.

"Nice to make your acquaintance," he huffed, not really offended.

"Opposite of likewise to you, peacock. You ran over my gorgeous lawn." You peered over the bike at the gauge, just to make sure it really was running on empty and this guy wasn't just some psycho trying to get into the house. Not that doing this was any safer, but hey, you had little to lose.

The man pivoted around to look at the 'gorgeous lawn,' and couldn't help the face he made.

"What, not pretty enough for you?" You reiterated, but the amused smirk he tossed you said he knew you were kidding.

"So, do ya think I could ask for some help?"

"Depends what kind."

You locked eyes, tiny smiles melting over your faces. You didn't always get along with people right away, and you'd been on and on about wanting privacy... but at least this interaction wasn't between you and a couch.

"Whatever you're offerin'," he blew a strand of hair from his eye. "But maybe some gas would be nice. At least enough to get back into town?"

"Or you could just walk and I could keep your bike."

He paused.

You laughed.

"Kidding. Lucky I got some extra gasoline in the shed," You walked right past him again and he turned your way. Just as your foot touched the porch steps you stopped again.

"...One sec," You felt a bit dumb going back and forth but something occurred to you just before you wasted your time.

Kneeling by the dirt bike again, you inspected the wheels closely.

Shoot.

"Damn." You sighed.

The man walked up, leaning over next to your squatted form to see.

"What? Oh," He narrowed his eyes. "Shit."

There was a small, jagged rock lodged in the back wheel, the air seeping out every passing moment. At this point the wheel looked a little flatter than it's twin.

"I guess I gotta drive you into town then, sir." Your tone stayed bland, but honestly you didn't mind the mini mission. Shit happens to everyone, after all.

"You don't mind?" He was genuinely surprised.

"Not like I have anything else to do. I'm out here all alone."

You made eye contact again, leaning briefly against his bike.

"I guess I shouldn't have said that. I don't know you. You could be a creep." But you didn't get that impression. And even so. You did take self defense classes a year or so ago, and he wasn't a huge or very bulky guy.

The blond rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"I don't know if it helps any if I promise you I'm not."

"Not really, but it reminds me that I should check you for weapons."

He cocked his head, the twitch on his lips suggesting he wanted to smile.

"Seriously?"

You nodded, stepping up to him, grasping he was just barely taller than you.

"You gonna pat me down or ya expectin' me to strip?"

You brazenly flickered your eyes down his form, fully realizing it would be rather hard for him to hide anything in his clothing; his top was as skin tight as an active wear-long sleeve could be and the pants were more typical biking pants that were a tad puffy with padding and pockets. Plus, you weren't actually that paranoid and you'd been stabbed once before.

Long story.

But anyway.

He lifted his arms along with his eyebrows, expectantly.

"I don't mind. I just wanna fix my bike so I don't have to bother a nice lady anymore."

You smirked, but kept your hands on your hips.

"Pretty sure our short encounter has been enough for you to grasp I'm not a typical 'nice lady,'"

Shifting your eyes down at him once more, you cheekily patted his elbows to get his arms to lower.

"But unless that lump in your pants is a gun, I think you're safe enough for a ride into civilization."

He knitted his brows before checking himself in a fluster.

"- Made ya look." You poked, leaving him bewildered as you jogged in the house to snatch your keys before meeting him at the side of your car.

"You sure got a sense of humor," He lulled, sliding into the passenger seat.

The car stuttered to life, and you hooked your arm over the back of his seat to twist your body around to back out into the pathway and get going.

"Thanks," Only when you were turning to get onto the dirt trail did you register you still hadn't gotten the guy's name. Now that was funny.

"I got a few questions for you, lucky man." You stayed with the improvised nicknames, yet.  

"Shoot." He leaned back into the seat, eyes wandering past the dash onto the road ahead.

"You know the type of wheels you need?"

"Yeah, o'course."

"You have money to pay for it?"

He flashed you a look. "Yes. I wouldn't ask that much of ya."

You pursed your lips, keeping eyes trained forward as you maneuvered around the trails and the small residences that went toward the main town.

"...and your name?" You finally asked, like it wasn't oddly placed in priorities here.

His green irises sparked with bashfulness and he snorted. Looked like he had forgotten about the formality as well.

"Jeff." After smiling at your side profile, he continued. "Hardy."

You tossed the name around mentally a few times before locking it in the vault.

"That's your full name?"

"It's Jeffery Nero Hardy, if you must know."

Well you didn't have a must, but Jesus, that was a name. Cooler than your's, unfortunately.

"Cool." Is all you said.

He gave you a minute of silence before nudging your response with a hum.

"Oh!" You acted embarrassed, making another turn. "It's Y/F/N. I didn't pick it."

"Ya make it seem like it's a bad name," Jeff propped his cheek onto his hand, leaning into his door's armrest. "It's not."

Though the casual compliment was welcome, though unasked for, you felt a tingle in your chest at the smirk playing at his lips. You noticed it in the reflection.

The fact was, town— or at least the auto shop you were headed towards— was still at least twenty minutes away, so there was time to burn and for some reason you wanted to keep talking to this Hardy guy. By all accounts you loved indulging in peaceful quiet, but it was like you couldn't help it. The guy, who literally rolled into your world, pulled you away from the alone time you begged for and you didn't even mind.

Maybe you had taken those expired meds without realizing it.

Ugh.

No, you didn't, but this feeling reminded you too much of the cheesy-as-all-hell story one of the girls from group therapy had divulged about the fling that saved her life. This was not going to be a fling. And you weren't in any dark place that you craved stopping your life short. And you weren't interested in him.

You were stopping right now, though, because of the stop light.

"So, Y/N," Jeff abruptly crashed through the silence, eyes continuously (perhaps unintentionally) glancing at you. "Why're you livin' up the hillside all alone for, anyhow?"

Apparently he believed he earned himself some questions because you'd asked him some. He didn't, but you weren't enough of a bitch to ignore him.

"Not living up there. Just staying. It's actually just a Summer home."

Jeff nodded once, "That's nice."

You coughed into the crook of your elbow, clearing your throat.

"I just needed time to clear my head and... be independent. People were always in my ear or on my case back where I was coming from." You wrinkled your nose, recalling all the times before recent you had wanted to run from it all and be free to mess yourself up if you wanted. Granted, you were grateful to be how you were now, but that would never change how it happened.

"I hear that. I was so caught up gettin' distance between me and my problems that my bike ran outta gas."

"Kudos for carelessness and being a loner," You held out one hand for a fist bump. "Cause me too."

He bumped it eagerly, shifting in his place. "I guess we're just similar souls, then."

"Hah. Yeah. Since I'll... probably never see you again after our little adventure, I guess it wouldn't hurt to share a bit. It's not often I get to have conversations with complete strangers who don't already have an opinion of me." You said, not quite sure of the decision.

Jeff's attention dialed in on your voice, completely willing to listen you speak all day. He felt largely the same magnetism toward you, even if the acquaintance had only been around an hour long.

It took half of a song on the radio for you to fully gather your thoughts to deliver a short version of your life story, but you did it.

"So... I'm only just getting into my twenties, right,"

Jeff made a mental note that you were both in the same age range.

"But I've gotten into some bad shit. My own fault, really, but not so much my decision to get stuck with it. Drugs'll do that to a naive body. Any... body, actually."

Jeff's head perked up, although his gaze went down to his hands again, something stirring. No wonder something felt familiar.

"I just got cleared from rehab, thank the Gods for getting me out of that place, too white and clean and perfect. But at least I'm better than I was— sober and all. But my family sure ain't treating me any different." Your grip on the wheel tightened, and you hated that the back of your eyes felt warm; you shook off the feeling and stayed alert.

"You ever get a feeling like that?"

Jeff knew he had, but he asked. "Like what?"

"Like you're alone even when you're surrounded by people? Whether they love you or hate you, doesn't matter, it's just you."  

Jeff was sure there wasn't ever a statement that resonated with him so purely - but you'd said it like it was right from his own brain.

"Too often. Most of the time I kinda wish I had someone who got me," He sorta half smiled, seeing your eyes in the rear view mirror. The sadness in them made him feel terrible, like he knew you. "And it's kinda scary how alike we are. 'Cept I ain't totally clean just yet..."

You braked harder than was necessary when you reached the last light before you'd be at the shop.

"Still fightin' my demons. And stubborn enough to want to do it without any pro help. I like being in control of my own self." He breathed in one strained breath, daring to look up at your curious face.

"At least you're trying it. The only reason I'm around is cause my parents forced me into the help."

"At least you're better. Forced or not."

"I wish I had your self-determination. Maybe then I'd have gotten here myself and not have to feel like shit and get shit on by my folks."

"Sometimes ya need somebody to get on your case. God. Self-determination... more like self-sabotage." It was like he was just now wondering why he was running in the first place. He missed his family, but when your body's got unhealthy chemicals stirred in he supposed one didn't make great choices. "I'm just a stubborn ass." And that too.

For some reason you both hacked out a laugh.

"You did end up broken down on my lawn because you were too much of an ass to stop for gas, that's all I know."

He came out of the slump and cracked a grin at your blunt remark.

"If ya can even call that a lawn."

Finally you rolled into the minuscule parking lot of the auto shop, and you turned off the car.

"Oh, sorry, didn't know you had high lawn standards." You playfully rolled your eyes, popping open your door.

"I do. You should see my place sometime." He got out.

"Don't think I know you well enough for that." You chuckled, swinging your keys on your finger as you walked up to the open garage.

"I'm actually a pretty skilled with the lawn mower." Like that was something that sounded cool; when he said it all confident you were almost convinced it was.

"I'll believe it when I see it. Maybe if you're so enthusiastic you could repay me by finishing up my grass, then."

You weren't serious but he was nodding at you while you two browsed the tire selection. At one point one of the workers asked if you needed any help, but Jeff was already tapping his desired tire obnoxiously loud.

"This is the one. Go ahead and keep the change." Jeff was fetching his wallet from one of his side pants pockets, handing over (hopefully not too much over) the correct amount of cash to the worker without so much as looking up at him. The worker counted the money to be sure he wasn't being under paid but made to help Jeff out as soon as he put the money in the register and correctly rung up the tire.

"I'll bring it out to your car, si—" The man went over to the item, only to have Jeff hold up a hand and grab it himself. Not like it was a car tire or nothing, but it wasn't the lightest thing on earth.

"Have a good one." Jeff called, walking toward where you were leaning by the door, simply observing.

"You don't slow down, do you." You rose your brows, opening the door for him to get back outside.

"Nah. Probably why-"

"You broke down on my nasty lawn, yeah yeah." You shook your head and sat back in your car seat, looking back at him through the window as he put the tire into the bed of the trunk. It'd be fine till the house.

"You say I don't slow down, but I don' think I ever met a girl with as sharp a tongue as you, Y/N." He returned to his passenger seat, rubbing his hands together.

"I think that was a compliment." You readjusted your mirror, corners of your lips curling up. "Thanks, peacock."

...

It was the same time getting back to the house, and the conversations were far less angst-ridden. It was the kind of conversations people try to have with their family's during road trips, with the stupid eye spies and the jokes and then the comfortable silence.

You still didn't understand why it was that way. Why you were more in tune with this random guy than you'd been with anyone 'close' to you in your life... at least in the last two or three years.

It was refreshing.

But sadly? Short-lived. Figures it would be too good for you, huh?

You helped Jeff get the wrecked tire off and replaced then filled up his tank with the extra fuel you had, since you weren't in need of it yourself. For once your apocalyptic preparation paid off. After that there really wasn't any reason for him to stay.

"Well ah..." Jeff trailed off, wetting his lips briefly and getting shy suddenly. It was cute.

Geez. Now you felt like blushing. Stop.

He sorted his thoughts and swung his legs over his bike, hands planing on his thighs and not the handles, however.

"Thank you. Not just for the bike, either." He smiled, tugging at the roots of his dyed hair a tiny bit.

You frowned only because of the ambiguity.

He shook his head, turning his helmet in his hands after unhooking it from the handle bars. "Ya gave me a good talk. Hope I wasn't too bad a company, either." His tone stayed chipper, but it was obvious he was a little disappointed.

He didn't think he'd have to leave so soon, but he didn't want to bother you longer.

"You weren't. Despite my first impression of you." You snorted, crossing your arms.

"And what was that?" He queried, brows arched.

"Dumb blond. If that even is your real hair color."

He feigned great offense, mouth agape.

"Harsh, Y/N. Real harsh." Jeff slid his head into the helmet, flipping the visor up so he could still keep eye contact. "And I really am blond. Just not this blond."

"Figured that much. I ain't dumb."

He really loved that spunky little grin you did. But that was why he couldn't stick around any longer— goodbyes weren't his thing and he thought, maybe if he got going he'd be able to move on from this encounter without obsessing over it too much. God knows he didn't need more distractions when his career was on the line.

You hated how heavy your heart felt, but you still smiled politely enough and raised a hand for a finger-wiggle of a wave.

"Bye then," you almost called him another nickname to try and dull the distant despondency. "Jeff."

The biker nodded, closing his eyes in a deep breathe.

"Just so ya know," He touched a hand to the visor of the helmet, this time avoiding your eyes. "I liked ya from the beginnin'."

You damn near froze in place. But he drove off after that, disappearing right back into the clearing. Just like that.

"...What an asshole."

A hand clapped over your mouth when it started to smile. He was an asshole but his last words to you were nice. In a way.

Hard for anything to be nice when it's there and then gone.

Going back inside and flopping face first into the couch, it was cool and comfortable; but all at once you felt lonely again. Again, because in the short time you were with Jeff you had felt alright — miraculously one guy made you feel more at home than a house with parents or a visiting room of friends.

... ... ...

Three days passed and you liked to tell yourself you'd already started forgetting all about the peacock boy.

You had not, but nobody was stopping you from lying mentally.

The front yard stayed half mowed because you were one: lazy, and two: it reminded you how Jeff had joked about doing it for you. You wondered how his yard looked, since he seemed so proud of it. Unless that was a joke.

It wasn't a lie that you wanted to know more about him— you didn't know anything, not really, except he made you talk, he was funny, he got your rude humor, and he... he was rolling up to your porch right now. The noise had sounded all too much like it had days ago, only louder because the bike wasn't breaking down this time. He twisted the handles to further get your attention, since you were still staring out at him from the window.

Stepping over to the second step of the porch stairs, you had nothing to say.

Jeff removed his helmet, and used his free hand to pat the second one he happened to have resting on his lap. He beamed.

"Mornin', Y/N. Long time no see?"

"Not long enough." You snapped back, though the words were the absolute opposite to the joy bubbling up from your toes upward.

Thankfully, he still got your humor, and just lifted the other helmet with an extended arm. You couldn't move forward yet.

"Why're you back here, Jeff?"

His arm never wavered, but he took a second to glance around the yard.

"To mow your lawn, obviously." The man faked a yawn. "How'd I know you still wouldn't have it done?"

You huffed, finally walking down to him on his new bike. Your hands hesitantly took the spare helmet too.

"You don't know me though."And he had called himself a stubborn ass.

Patting your helmet with his gloved hand, then poking your forehead, Jeff scooted as much forward as he could be comfortably.

"Sure. But I'd really like to."

You were on the back of the bike before you knew it.

He revved the motor once more before snapping his helmet on and bravely reaching back to put your hands around his trim waist. The last glance he threw over his shoulder, you were barely able to see his eyes through the light tint of the visor, but his words were crystal clear from this proximity.

You liked this proximity.

"Hold on tight, darlin'."

You did. And for the rest of your days you didn't let go.

[black-strike-otp]

part 11

also known as part boy howdy we’re finally getting somewhere again!

There was a stench in the air all but too recognizable. The air was musky; with a lingering smell of death and rust, mingled with a tinge of what could only be foul energon. It was dark; lights barely penetrated the darkness. Thankfully, most ‘modern’ Cybertronians optics had a high visual resolution so it wasn’t too difficult, and they could keep up with Novastrike so long as she didn’t outpace them.

Unlike her comrades, she could pick up on the things their far duller senses could not. Sure, they could smell the carcasses but not like she could; where it left a taste in her mouth that made her choke each time she absolutely had to ventilate fresher air into her core to keep functional. Metal groaned as the tunnel they walked in shifted; an unused passage with an unstable support and pedes scrapping along and wadding through small puddles of bad energon.

Novastrike tried not to quiver at every groan, every whisper that echoed. Her audios were strained, painfully. Even the tumbling gears of her team in her joints and bodies were a grinding note and her spark, a fluttering song in her helm.

Someone picked up the pace slightly, walking just behind Novastrike to the right. She swiveled a single audio towards them and lowered her range slightly; not wanting to be deafened by the noise.

“You holding up okay, Nova? You seem pretty tense,” Silvercore asked softly.

“I’m fine,” she rasped.

Silvercore smiled faintly. “Stinks to Pit down here, huh?”

Nova emitted a growl in her throat as a sign of agreement.

A voice, much deeper than Silvercore’s, butt in. “Novastrike, are we getting close to an exit from this passage? I think we could all use a break before continuing on.”

Novastrike inhaled sharply; gagging as rot swirled within her systems and dust and particles of rust clinged upon her. She shivered slightly, responding: “No signs of light ahead, and no clean air coming from anywhere nearby.”

“Drat,” the mech grumbled. “Keep onward, then, everyone.”

Novastrike glanced up towards Silvercore, catching his sympathetic smile. She offered a small one back for a moment before looking forward again so she could keep her focus on their surroundings.

They skirted along areas where the tunnel caved in and trailed the branch off passages with caution to see if there were any nearby exits to this underground prison. There was no luck to be had; the one exit where Novastrike could smell traces of cleaner air was largely caved in and it was a risk to try seeing if they could displace it enough to get it without risking a collapse in the tunnel. It was an absolutely dreadful experience.

Strange vibrations hummed in the air and Novastrike flicked her audios, trying to understand the odd frequency.

“Hear something?” Silvercore asked.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Nova quietly answered. “It’s kind of hard to make out.”

“You think we’re in danger?” Another bot questioned.

“I don’t know,” Novastrike stressed. “It’s hard to make out. It’s a weird sound, I’ve never heard it before. It sounds close for a moment, then far away.”

“Maybe the paranoid femme’s just hearing things,” someone grumbled.

Another added their own two cents: “Could it just be settling, or vibrations from above causing a strange acoustic sound? Maybe there’s fighting going on above us?”

“No no no,” Novastrike growled, bounding over some crumbled up metal; probably a body, and landing on the other side. “It sounds like... It sounds like...”

Her ears zeroed in on the sound, and Novastrike turned her helm slightly to a nearby hold just a few yards ahead, entering into the tunnel from the right. It clearly wasn’t designed as part of the structure; the metal was shredded and pulled apart like something had forced its way in.

“What?” somebot demanded impatiently, stepping gingerly over the body. “It sounds like what?”

“Wings,” Novastrike said faintly. “Like... really big cyberfly or buzz fly wings.”

“Wings?” snickered a bot. “You’re picking up signs of bugs down here? Of course there’s bugs down here, look at it! It’s pooling with energon, oil-”

“Hush,” snapped another bot.

“What, I was just-”

“Be quiet mech!” snarled a femme, jutting out a digit towards the fractured hole in the wall.

Something was moving behind the hole. Shadows moving; and the quickest flash of a yellow-orange light.

“Do we go back?” whimpered the pesky mech.

“Where to?” demanded another quietly. “The closest exit is probably the one we came in on, and that was at least a jours walk through muck and over metal.”

“We could blast our way out-”

“SHHHH!”

The yellowish orange light appeared again, and this time seemed to be looking out of the hole.

“Walk. Slowly.” hissed a mech.

The buzzing sound seemed to increase tenfold. Novastrike’s ears flattened against her helm, wincing as she pressed her servos over them. It seems she wasn’t the only one to hear it this time- half the group jumped with a start.

“It’s Insecticons!” cried out a hysterical mech, running carelessly forward. “Run- run for your lives!”

The hole in the wall suddenly caved inward; a large figure trying to press its way through. It couldn’t quit fit and raged against the tattered edges of the metal with its claw-like fists; digging the mandibles extending from its maw into the metal.

Frightened cries escaped the group, and then like spooked prey-driven antelope, they ran forward in a wild heard. The one’s darting by closest to the wall squealed loudly as the monstrosity reached through with its enormous arms, taking a swip at them.

“Novastrike, how many are there?”

“I don’t know- I don’t know I can’t tell there’s too much noise!” Novastrike yelled, panting as she catapulted herself a crumbled section of the wall. She fell straight into a horrible pile of coagulated jello’d energon and slipped. She slid, tripping and falling onto the ground. It barely registered to her, she was up and on her pedes so quickly she didn’t even lose pace with the others.

The wall to the right side of the scattered group suddenly began to warp inward. Bodies slammed against the metal, as if trailing the group.

“A rough estimate, Novastrike,” cried out a voice. “Please!”

Straining her ears, Novastrike darted over a rusted over body. “Uh- I don’t know. It- It almost sounds like there’s a hive on the other side of the tunnel!”

“A hive?!” 

Steam ruptured forth from an overhead pipe.

“Light! Light! I can see light, I can see-!”

With a resounding stream of fragmented metal exploding outward and daggering into the team, a massive gaping hole appeared just before the group.

The closest mech to the hold tried darting around while reaching for his blaster. Those ahead continued running, as those behind the hole came to a stop, wide-eyed as a servo shot out and pulled the mech straight through to the other side of the hole.

A low, furious growling came from the walls.

“Wait- wait come back!” Silvercore cried out to the remaining team. “Come back and help us! Cowards!”

It was too late. The other rogues were already scrambling out of the tunnel, crawling up over the rubble of a collapsed section of ceiling and out to safety.

With an eerie calmness, a helm slowly began to slip out of the darkness. Locked within its jaws, the neck of the mech it had pulled within its chamber. Its sharp, jagged teeth and strong mandibles snapped downward; tearing into the struggling mech’s throat like paper and ripping his helm off.

“Primus,” a femme faintly whispered. Whether her statement was in horror, or a prayer was questionable, but both equally qualified in the situation.

The Insecticon lapped at the dripping energon from its face and began to slide a leg out through the hole.

“Go,” a mech hissed. “Go go go go go go- go now! Go now- quickly!”

Someone reached out to try pulling the mech back but he ran forward blindly. The Insecticon tried squeezing its limbs through the hole; a claw scrapping the mech’s armor as he ran by. With a tremendous amount of luck on his side however, he managed to make it by and run for the collapsed ceiling for escape.

Silvercore turned his helm slightly to the wall beside them, and everyone slowly followed his lead. It sounded like claws were pressing on the wall just to their right, and the humming of furious wings were beginning to grow louder and louder.

“Oh Primus, we’re going to die,” a femme half-sobbed.

“Maybe,” Silvercore agreed, staring at the Insecticon shoving its body through the hole. “But maybe not- weapons ready, everyone. Lets rush it; maybe if we can knock it back we can at least slip by like the others did.”

A queasy feeling caused the energon in Novastrike’s tanks to froth and bubble with unease. She reached to her side, pulling out her plasma pistols with hesitancy.

“On my mark,” Silvercore stated loudly. “Ready-”

The Insecticon shrieked; slamming its body into the hole and causing the edges to buckle inward.

“-NOW!”

With a battlecry worthy of the most hardened veterans of war, the group surged forward as a unit. The Insecticon lashed out with its arm, catching two by the side and sending them into the wall. Blasters went off at close range; the smell of ozone and energon wafting through the air. The creature cried out in pain and fury; its claws raking into anyone close enough as they all began stumbling around the creature.

Metal groaned and suddenly, an enormous panel of metal supporting the wall gave way. The Insecticon tumbled out and onto the ground; giving the last of the group a moment to leap over him.

Only to look back and see the Insecticons beginning to flood in the tunnel behind them.

“RUN! Just run!”

Novastrike’s audios were ringing. She couldn’t tell who was screaming orders, but they were orders she could definitely, definitely follow.

Stumbling after each other, the party of rogues began climbing up the steep incline towards salvation.

Someone screamed just behind Novastrike as she bounded up from rock from rock. She looked back, pistol in servo, and quickly looked forward again, her spine tingling.

She couldn’t save the femme. In the few nanokliks it took to look back, already a group of Insecticons were tearing her limbs from her chassis, and digging their pointed digits into her throat as they dragged her into the darkness.

Slipping over the jagged metal, Novastrike jumped up and to the top crust of holy Cybertron above; hearing the buzz of wings fly just inches from her helm as some of the Insecticons began to take flight.

Her helm whipped around, spotting what few remaining members of her group on the edge of the slope. They were already getting to their pedes or transforming into their alt-modes, taking off wildly in any direction.

Novastrike spotted Silvercore, huffing and puffing as he collapsed at the edge of the ravine.

Buffeted by the wind coming off the wings of the Insecticons soaring above, she pulled her pistols up and made a beeline for her comrade. Even as she approached, her tanks churned with sickness. Energon was steadily oozing out of one of his legs; missing a section of it from the knee-joint down as it’d been torn off from the furious and starving Insecticon.

She skidded on her knees to a stop just by his helm.

“Novastrike,” Silvercore muttered faintly, looking up to her. “Nova, you have to run.”

“No I can’t, I can’t I won’t leave you here! Please Silver, please get up!”

“Nova,” he strained, gently reaching out to place a digit against her face. “Go, please. Take care of yourself. You’ve been a great friend. But I-”

An Insecticon suddenly transformed mid-air, slamming down upon Silvercore’s backstrut. There was an audible cracking and screaming of metal as his back caved in and he gasped, energon jutting out of him and into the air in streams.

“No!” Novastrike cried out furiously, tears dancing in her vision. Pulling up her shaky servos, she fired her plasma pistols at the Insecticon’s face.

It barely winced as the corrosive liquid began eating at the side of its helm. The beast turned its helm towards her.

“Run... Nova,” Silver gasped softly.

She took a step back. Her legs felt heavy.

Drool began to piddle out of the Insecticon’s jaws, and it let out a bellowing roar.

Novastrike’s optics flashed a dark blue, and she looked down to Silvercore. Her spark sank; deeper and deeper, it felt like her very soul was falling into the hear of Cybertron itself.

A plain, colorless grey began to fall over Silvercore’s form as his optics flashed and grew dark.

The Insecticon took a swipe at her and Novastrike transformed as she jumped back. She spun on her heels, tears clouding her vision as she lowered her body to the ground and took off as fast as her pedes could take her.

In the skies above, a cloud of black was beginning to spread across Cybertron; their wings humming loudly.

~

Energon splattered onto Blackout’s chassis as he slammed the Autobot’s helm into the nearest wall. His face warped inwards, and the side of his helm caved where Blackout’s digits were slowly threatening to collapse the armor inward. The mech made a gargling, pained cry; something along the lines of a plea as Blackout whipped the mech’s body around to use as a counter shield to the Autobot’s comrades attack.

Instantly, the mech’s chassis was riddled with scolding hot wounds of plasma and energon blasters. He made a choking sound; energon bubbling up and out of his mouth. Blackout snapped the mech forcibly backwards, placing a knee into his backstrut. His spine snapped and he crumbled forward as Blackout moved to toss him aside; his digits applying the last bit of his strength and crushing the mech’s helm into a bloody ball of wasted scrap metal.

A mech gave a hollow scream and came running headlong at Blackout. Flanking from the sides, more Autobot’s came running at him; weapons drawn.

Blackout grinned. He liked a challenge.

Not but a few buildings away, a small femme was busy throwing down with Autobot’s herself. With half of her crew evacuating the area with stolen goods, she was baiting the Autobot’s away from their escape.

Infuriated, the Autobots fired wildly after Novastrike. She’d zip off to the right, and then zip off to the left. Dodging and rolling out of the way of their fire; nimble on her pedes. With keen reflexes, she leaped neatly onto a rafter overhead and leaping down upon one of the mechs, who screeched wildly. He reached up as if to rip her off but was too slow. With a grin far too adorable for someone being so malicious, she pressed her legs to him and launched off; firing off a barrage of stun rounds into the mech’s torso and legs.

He fell back limply into the dirt, barely twitching. Another stepped over to him as Novastrike bounded easily past another Autobot to check on the mech. “He’s not offline,” he stated, “They’re stun rounds. Keep following her, you fragging moron!”

“Excuse me~” Novastrike chimed, hurdling over a mech’s blade as he took a wild swing at her. He grunted with annoyance as she dashed between his legs, glancing around himself only to get an unpleasant shot in a very unfortunate place.

He fell on his knees with a crippling scream, followed by, “I can’t feel my-”

Novastrike was too busy laughing over the mech’s misfortune, vaulting over a broken down airship and jumping up on top of a nearby building to hear the rest. Oh Primus, perhaps she was being a little too cruel today, but the look on his faceplate was worth it.

She went to leap from the building and on another whena blaster went off; striking the edge of the building and sending Novastrike hurtling off her and tumbling down the lane.

She popped up to see an Autobot standing feet from her. He looked down, grimacing as he went to aim his rifle at her.

“Whoopsies~” Novastrike stated with a quirky grin, flipping back just as the mech’s rifle went off. Debris and smoke momentarily blurred the air in front of the small femme, and she darted off to the left.

Blackout noticed a white figure approaching him and snarled faintly. Small and fast was a lethal dose against his frame. He went to take a step back, his optics trying to focus on the obscure vision running by.

An Autobot launched at Blackout and he instantly reacted, reaching up and snatching the mech by the wrist. They glowered at each other, optics glaring.

Just as Blackout went to snap the mech’s arm back, the mech’s legs began to wobble and he started to go limp in his grasp.

Novastrike bounded by Blackout, glancing up at him just as he looked down at her. Both of them had surprise momentarily lighten up their faces.

“Good to see you’re still functioning,” Novastrike teased, diving behind Blackout to fire at a mech coming in from behind.

“It takes a lot more than Autobots to take me out,” Blackout responded, growling as he raised his cannon to take out an Autobot sniper setting up upon one of the buildings.

The small femme came sliding from between Blackout’s legs and fired at an Autobot coming in from the left as Blackout took up one on the right. Another came bolting out from a building wildly as another leapt down from a presumed hiding place on top of a broken down vehicle of some sort with a screech.

Blackout turned to the one that was falling towards him, countering with a blow to the mech’s cranium as he the mech landed before him and fired a glancing shot to his side. He went to try elbowing the one coming up from his other side, and was surprised when Novastrike pivoted, jumped up part of the way onto his shoulder and tackled the mech coming straight at him. She managed to fire off a few near-blinding close shots as the mech struggled, and Blackout blew out his legs from beneath him. As Novastrike rolled away from the mech, Blackout took another two shots at the mech’s chassis for good measure.

In the blink of an optic, Nova shifted into her alt-form and streaked towards Blackout. He tensed as she jumped up, hitting his shoulders neatly, and leapt over his head to fall onto a crafty camouflaged femme sneaking around the nearby vehicle. Her fangs and claws gripped the femme’s shoulder and the counter-balanced weight knocked her off balance.

Blackout fired at the femme, and then fired at the mech who came charging out towards her and Novastrike. His energon blaster went off; barely missing the small feline as she bounded for cover.

The pair turned back simultaneously as an explosive cannon blast went off behind them. Scorponok had already surfaced, and was wrestling to the assailant to the ground; his barbed tail dug deep into the mech’s back.

Blackout turned a swift gaze to Novastrike, her optics still on the bug. She slowly brought her gaze towards him, looking between the enormous aft and his cannon, pointed squarely at her.

She breathed out slowly, expectedly. Blackout slowly raised his cannon towards the sky as it morphed back into a servo, allowing a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Impressive work, femme. You’ve gotten a lot better at this since I last saw you.”

Novastrike snorted, shaking her helm. The armor of her form seemed to depressurize slightly, flexing, and then she shifted back into bipedal.

Giving a sweep of her servo, Novastrike made a gestured to the wounded and offline Autobots surrounding them. “You didn’t need to kill them,” she said softly. “My stun rounds would have been fine.”

Blackout shrugged. “You take too long. This is more effective.”

She glanced away slightly, staring at the splatters of energon on the ground.

A delighted chirpping sound escaped the scorpion Cybertronian, and he began to scuttle over, coated in dirt and energon.

Blackout reached down as he approached, patting the bug on the helm. “Well done, Scorponok.”

He gave a shrill metallic click and looked over at Novastrike. She offered a faint smile as she noticed him staring. With a metallic chatter, he scurried over and reached out with his drills, giving them a slow and playful spin as he jabbed them playfully in her direction.

She didn’t so much as flinch.

“You’re looking well, Scorponok,” she said warmly.

The bug clicked in response. His drill stopped spinning and he prodded Nova’s side gently with one of his prongs coming off his drills. She gave the smallest giggle, reaching out to place a servo gently against him.

Blackout made a peculiar clicking sound of his own, and Scorponok looked back at him. He gave a disappointed chirp and glanced back at Nova. She tilted her helm slightly, as if confused, and watched as the scorpion scurried over to his partner. He climbed with a very surprising amount of care and grace; clearly from many years of practice, upon Blackout’s backside and docked beneath the mech’s bladed as he furled them out.

“Not going to shoot me, then?” Novastrike boldly asked, placing her stun guns away and her servos behind her back. “What was this of ‘next time’ I heard?”

“You’re a factionless rogue now,” Blackout sniffed. “Why waste the ammunition?”

“Ouch. Or are you just saying that because I saved your aft?”

Blackout narrowed his optics slightly. “I could have taken them all out myself.”

“Are you always this touchy?”

“I’m stating a fact.”

Novastrike flicked her servo in the air with a twitch of her wrist. “Yeah yeah- I know, big and bad Blackout, has this crazy reputation, big guns, very terrifying. Still, I did help.”

“Help I didn’t ask for,” Blackout replied.

“Would you have rather had the bullet holes and smoldering armor?”

Blackout tilted his helm to the side thoughtfully. “Over your obnoxious chatter- perhaps.”

Novastrike placed a servo over her chassis. “Sir, I am offended.”

“Never claimed to be nice.”

“Heh,” Novastrike laughed softly. “Well, guess I’m that one-in-a-billion who can give you that title.”

Blackout raised an optic ridge, crouching slightly to pick up a weapon from the ground from one of the Autobots and inspect it. “What’s that?”

“You, being nice,” Novastrike murmured, watching for his reaction.

Satan felt a strange stirring in his spark. His face remained empty as he turned to her. In fact, if anything, his constant resting bitch face offered a very unimpressed disagreement.

“I probably wouldn’t be online without your assistance, anyway-”

“We don’t speak of that.”

“Right- sorry.”

Blackout tested the weight of the gun and turned it over, glancing it over a moment. He went to subspace it, turning fully to the small femme. Her ears were slightly droopy from his remark. Frag it all, he nearly, maybe, just a little felt... guilty for his snappiness.

“You better be going,” Blackout warned her. “I’ll need to comm this in, and I’d rather not have you- or any of your rogue acquaintances, in my way or coming to look for you. I can only play nice so long.”

Novastrike absolutely beamed; grinning wide as her spark did a little flip. “So, you’re saying you are nice, somewhere in that deep dark black hole you call a spark?”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled flatly, keeping himself from grinning at her own stupidity and even more ridiculous smile.

“Oh, yes sir,” she answered, nodding as she placed a salute upon her brow.

Blackout rolled his optics. “Go, before I decide it’s better I see what happens when I step on you- do you blow up into a bunch of rainbow confetti or explode into a glitter bomb?”

“Awww,” Nova piped up. “You know me so well, and my soft, feminine, fuzzy ways.”

A groan escaped the Big Jerk and he placed a servo over his faceplate. He dragged it down, raising a digit as if to comment something smart and found that there was no sign of the femme before him.

He glanced around.

Frag, stealthy and fast.

He chuckled faintly, placing a digit to his helm to activate his comm and call in his report.

Striding through the now deserted and mostly offline sector once filled with Autobots, Novastrike had a cheeky grin plastered to her face as she went to ping her allies about being picked up. They seemed delighted to hear from her- if not concerned about how ‘giddy’ apparently she sounded on the line.

How can one not sound giddy after a fight? Her adrenaline was pumping, obviously.

~

“All units, please return to formation around the Nemesis as we enter the space bridge portal.” Megatron announced over the Decepticon comm channels

Blackout gripped the the nearby console as the Nemesis pitched forward; the Ark firing upon their side and causing the vessel to jolt. The majority of the Decepticons in the ship’s helm were unprepared and fell down or at the very least, went stumbling into each other. Fire broke out in one a lower sector of the ship, and someone was calling for aid over the channel.

Blackout looked towards Megatron, who had faltered, but stood tall and proud at the front. At the angle he was from his Lord, he could see the madness creeping in the edges of Megatron’s vision, and his crazed grin as they entered the portal.

Blackout glanced at one of the viewing screens that showed the interior and exterior of the Nemesis. He spotted the pluming flames, and behind them, could see the shape of Cybertron’s surface; their home, as it began to fade behind them.

Of all the thoughts to cross his processor, he hoped Novastrike escaped their damned home.

~

The Rising Star was spinning wildly out of control. Mechs and femmes were trying to assess the damage to the spaceship; running to and fro wildly. Some bots were sobbing incoherently. The doors were opening and closing as frantic individuals came spewing information randomly.

There had never been a greater sense of chaos. Caught in the middle of the Autobots and Decepticons trying to leave the planet, a few vessels of rogue factionless had stolen, built, and hijacked their own ships in a final attempted at getting off their dying planet. Overrun with Insecticons, with little to no energon, the decimated Cybertron could take no more of their war.

Novastrike stood alone, her servo pressed to a window on one of the sides of the ship. Her optics sparkled brightly. She felt transfixed. Despite the screaming, the yelling, the sense of madness and impending doom, she felt at peace.

“You were right Silver, the view is great from up here,” Novastrike murmured, looking at their defiled home planet and them up; up to see the stars shining like she’d never seen them before.

“You would have loved this,” she whispered hoarsely, placing a servo over her spark. A smile wavered on her faceplate, and she lifted her other servo to wipe at the blurry liquid invading her vision of the magnificent sight.

Oh, what a grand adventure it would be. And she’d take the memory of her friend with her always among the stars, like he was still there.

[cathcacen]

Mae shouldn’t really be weirded out by CeCe, but...

...he’s weirded out.

I really needed some MaeLars fluff after that horribly depressing AU one-shot. And I also get some bonus CeCe. ALL IS WELL.

She doesn’t know what she’d expected walking into the Naveau mansion for dinner at Auntie Chryse’s behest, but it’s definitely not this. Ceth is pacing the room, wringing his hands, and Cel is one moment amused and sheepish laughter, and the next concerned and worried glances upstairs. Theone is talking quickly at her, something about being right and how amazing it is that Ceth will actually be part of the family now.

It’s only just occuring to her that she knows exactly what’s going on when she realises Theone is telling her off for not sharing the good news earlier. “Oh,” She says, looking straight towards Cel. “Finally paired up for real, eh?”

This sets Theone off on another scolding, and she has to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“I can’t believe you’ve known all this time! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Theone grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her roughly, though she, too, is laughing. “Lars, how could you!”

“It wasn’t my news to share—ow!” She wriggles free of Theone’s grip, then follows Cel’s glance upstairs. “What’s going on?”

“Mae, uh, didn’t take it too well.” Cel looks a little embarrassed, and Ceth lets out a groan at that.

“Ah.” Lars massages her shoulder. It still hurts from her earlier session with him, when he’d sent her rolling down the side of a gradual slope by calling upon the northern winds. She’d broken the fall on her side, and already her skin has started to turn blue. “He was in a pretty good mood after we trained, though.”

Ceth lifts his head long enough to look her up and down, and she’s glad she’s got a heavy drape on because she’s certain he wants someone to yell at right about now. “The way he says it, it’s like I betrayed him or something.”

Poor Ceth, she thinks. He sounds like he’s racked with guilt, but she knows he’s aware of it. Cel’s worth it.

“I’ll talk to him.” She squeezes Cel’s shoulder in passing, and her best friend gives her a soft, happy sort of smile. “Don’t worry, he’s just doing that big brother thing. He’ll get over it.”

“I know it.”

She makes her way upstairs, Theone’s voice growing fainter by the second. By the time she reaches Mae's door, she can barely make out the sound of the eldest girl’s teasing – a good thing, she tells herself, since she’s not sure that would help matters where Mae is concerned. There’s no answer when she knocks, so she lets herself in.

The room is empty.

“Gods, damnit,” She mutters.

He’s probably just clearing his head, Auntie Chryse tells her later, as they’re sitting down to dinner. She’s more than pleased with the developments, and Uncle Lear in particular seems a little choked up at the happy news. He’d been close with Ceth’s ma, after all, and had always, in his way, looked out for Ceth.

Still, she’s worried about her partner, so she eats as quickly as she can and excuses herself as soon as dessert is done. There’s a knowing look in Auntie Chryse’s eyes that she doesn’t want to think on. You’re just friends. Just training partners. There’s nothing to see here.

It’s getting dark and she has a lot of ground to cover, so she takes her horse. The training grounds are empty, as are the militia offices and dining hall. She searches in their favourite clearing in the nearby woods, but he’s nowhere to be found – not even in the tree where he had once found her singing as a girl, and where they occasionally sat together to study the militia protocols. She rides down the length of the river, poking bushes and branches in passing with her feet, and by the time she reaches her favourite rock, she’s exhausted her options for hiding spots.

Damn it, Mae.

The boys aren’t home when she gets in, and daddy’s no help – he hasn’t seen Mae all day, and is nursing a headache in his study. She makes him a cup of tea, then slumps off to her room.

He’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, and looks up at her when she walks in, all anguish and angst and horror. For a moment, it doesn’t register that it’s him, and she does a double take, hand flying to her chest in shock as she backs against her door. “HELLS!”

“Everything alright?” Daddy’s voice echoes in the corridor.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” She calls back. “Just a spider.”

“You’re not even afraid of spiders.” Mae’s voice suggests that he’s exhausted, and she rolls her eyes as she turns around to bolt her door locked. “Where were you?”

“Looking for you,” She tells him grouchily. He doesn’t really deserve it, she knows; nobody had asked her to go looking for him, but all the same, she’s tired and sleepy, and he’s mad about something stupid. “Have you been here all this while?”

He groans and places his face in his hands, slumping forward. “Heard the news, eh?”

She kicks her boots off, then makes her way to the fire and tosses a couple of logs in. “I don’t see why you’re so upset.”

“He’s my brother!” Mae sounds horrified. “And now he’s dating Cel? It’s just so weird.”

“You’re aware Ceth isn’t really related to you all, right?” She makes her way over to the bed and falls back onto it with a loud thump. “And besides, they’ve been making eyes at each other for months and months. I’m glad they’re happy.” She pokes him. “Don’t you want them to be happy?”

“Of course I do.” Mae looks down at her, brows furrowed. In the dim firelight, she can see the scar on his forehead, the healing tissue barely concealed by the waves that fall loosely over his eyes. “I want all of you to be happy, it’s just weird.”

“Why’s it weird?” She hands him a pillow. It always helps to have a pillow to hug. “Tell me. Maybe I can help you make sense of it.”

He hugs the pillow to his stomach, pressing his face into the edge so that the lower half of his face is hidden to her. His voice comes out muffled. “He’s my brother.”

“No longer a valid reason.” She waves a hand airily. “Next.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” He’s staring at her like she’s mad. “We all grew up together. It’d be like if Theone started dating one of your brothers.”

“That’s also fine, though. We’re not related.” She fixes her eyes upon him. “And I’m not saying that as an insult or anything – your sister’s friendship is one of my most precious relationships.” As is yours. “But she’s my friend. Ceth is my friend. You’re my friend.” She asserts the last sentence, because she’s not sure she wants Mae thinking of her as a little sister.

His lips thin a little. She knows he’s not convinced. There’s a slight trace of sulkiness in his voice as he speaks, and he grips the pillow tighter. “It’s just awkward, okay? I’m not saying there’s necessarily a good or valid reason for my feeling this way.”

“So you want to vent.” She turns onto her side, facing him, and snuggles in between her thick blankets. “Go on, then. Hit me with every ridiculous thought you’ve had since they told you.”

He groans, and the mattress shifts as he flops down onto his side to mirror her. “It feels like maybe he thought having us be brothers and sisters the way we were before isn’t good enough.”

“You can’t help who you fall in love with, okay?”

“And it feels like my blood brother just stabbed me in the back and stole my sister away.”

“Except he’s not your blood brother, and he didn’t steal her – she loves him just as much.”

“And it also feels like he’s going to ferry her away to Sharval and I won’t have my baby sister near any more.”

That stings. She lets out a long sigh and shifts her gaze, watching the hem of his shirt where it rests over his chest. “Well, that’s what people do when they fall in love and get married. And gods, Mae, they’ve only just announced that they’re dating, it’s not as if they’re getting married tomorrow. Don’t be melodramatic.”

He scowls at her. “It feels like my partner is taking sides against me.”

“Well, tough luck, Cel’s my best friend and you gave me a giant bruise just this afternoon.”

“It feels like…” He looks a bit guilty at this. “Like Ceth might just get fat from all the treats Cel’s going to bake him from now on.”

“Really?” She kicks him under the sheets, and he pinches her arm in return. “You had all of three hours and that’s the best you can come up with?!”

“I said I know I’ve got no good reason to feel this way!” He smacks her in the face with the pillow, and she has to fend him off by pressing her open palm to his face. “Oww, ow!”

By the time they’re done, it’s close to half an hour later, and her arms, side, and jaw are sore. There are feathers floating around her bed, three pillows slightly flattened and one ripped. She’s still fighting back laughter as she gives him a good kick, and he rolls over, half-chuckling, half-groaning.

“Look at it this way,” She tells him, between gulps of breath. “When Ceth eventually marries into your family, you’ll really be brothers. Can you go talk to him? He’s having a panic attack and I’m sure that can’t be good for Cel, neither.”

Mae, for his part, manages to look embarrased, and she’s glad he hasn’t completely lost his mind over the matter. “I just needed to wrap my mind around it, you know.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you picked a good place to voice your dissent.” She waves a hand about the room. “We’re very accepting of ridiculous notions in this house. After all the silly pettiness that went on here back in the day, when Aunt Ora and Uncle Lear would try and prank daddy by setting traps in his room…”

Mae laughs at that. Oh, there we go. He’s back.

“What would I do without you, Lars?” He smiles broadly at her, his face bright and warm.

“Probably the same with someone else.” She grins back.

He shakes his head, and she feels her cheeks warm a little. “Nah. Nah, probably not.” He reaches out to pick a feather from her hair. “If there’s ever a world you exist in, where I don’t, I hope you live just as good and happy a life. That way, maybe you’d cheer some other idiot up when they’re kicking a fuss about two of their favourite people dating.”

“Gods forbid I have to deal with that idiot twice.” She sits up, chuckling. He hands her the feather, still smiling. “Don’t worry about it. Go home, Mae. They’re worried about you.”

“I know it.” He wraps his arms around her, giving her a squeeze, then plants a quick, affectionate kiss on the side of her head. It isn’t until he’s out the window, arms perched over the windowsill and legs planted firmly on the thicker vines that climb the side of the wall that he looks up. “See you tomorrow?”

She beams at him. “See you tomorrow.”

[scribbles-by-kate]

Thoughts on 7.1 “Hyperion Heights”

Little bit late to the party with watching season seven. I wanted to wait to see how a few things played out before I decided if I could watch or not, and now I am, so, first episode of the sequel/slash reboot/whatever the hell they’re calling it. What did I think of it? Well, I was spoiled for most of it (by my own choice), so there wasn’t the element of surprise that I had with the first pilot, and I didn’t love everyone this go round the way I did in the initial pilot, but I’ve a feeling that’s because I was spoiled and I knew the premise going in, which I didn’t really the first time. There wasn’t the same wonder. That said, I think it was a good introduction to the new story and the new curse personas.

My Fan fiction My Once Upon a Time episode reviews, essays, and meta

Hyperion Heights - strange to not be in Storybrooke any more. You really get a sense of the different neighbourhood as Henry’s driving around, and with the city lights at night. It’s greyer and grittier, not small town charm at all. I know I’m going to miss Storybrooke, but the new sets are fun and I really like Roni’s so far. It’s just interesting to see all these characters we know in new settings doing completely different things.

Andrew as Henry - really channelled Jared exceptionally well, I think. He had the inflections of the voice really well, and the mannerisms too. I love how adult Henry channels Emma too, as he’s arriving in Hyperion Heights. ‘Seriously?’ That made me grin.

Lucy - is certainly very earnest. I’m afraid I don’t find Alison as subtle as I always found Jared. He was always more understated for me, but Alison definitely has time to grow into the role. I do really get a sense of Lucy’s earnest desperation to set things right, not just for her and her immediate family, but for all the fairy tale characters. I did also love the Swan Believer callbacks - ‘Kid’ :)

The gentrification of Hyperion Heights - which, of course, is just a cover for pushing the fairy tale characters out so that they will forever be isolated from one another and the curse can’t be broken. That’s the ‘mistake’ that Regina made: she kept everyone together, increasing the chances of them finding each other, but we’ve since learned that Regina’s curse, well, modified by one Rumplestiltskin, was a pretty tame affair compared to others. If she’d (he’d?) really wanted to be cruel, the curse would have scattered everyone to the four winds. Seems Lady Tremaine is that cruel.

Tremaine/Belfrey - her Hyperion Heights persona is very much a take off of Miranda Priestly. I mean, Ivy pretty much made that clear with that whole ‘she’s coming’ business. Hmm, she’s certainly cold. I don’t know whether she has the oomph of Regina, though. Be pretty hard to top Ms Parrilla, to be honest, so I’m sort of lukewarm on her at the moment. I will say it was pretty fucking vile to cut the fairy’s wings off. I mean, I know what that was a metaphor for in the Maleficent movie, so Tremaine doing it made me shudder. And her whole thing being fear rather than power is new. Makes her seem colder and more dangerous, somehow. She’s kind of emotionally cold, while Regina was full of emotion, though I think Regina had more anger in her, while what Tremaine/Belfrey has is calculated hatred. She certainly seems to hate her daughter.

Ivy/Drizella - definitely seems to be under her mother’s thumb and trying to please her. Need to see much more of her to figure her out, though. So far, she seems not that bad, but that could change.

Jacinda/Cinderella - she sort of reminds me of Bandit Snow, with the whole jadedness and cynicism, and the whole idea that she doesn’t believe there’s a happy ending for her. She ain’t got no time for no prince, but there’s a surprising element there in her wanting to kill the prince. I like that they made her steal Henry’s knife and hide it under her dress! I like the sword fighting too. I mean, Once’s original Ella never really did it for me as a character. I had serious problems with her wanting to solve her problems with magic, even though Rumple warned her, and then not adhering to their deal, so I was pleased to hear they were introducing a new Cinderella. The fact that she’s Latina is also really important in terms of representation, and I’m really pleased that they had Dania keep her own accent. I mean, I don’t think she flattens it out in any way, but I don’t know enough of her to be able to tell for sure. I look forward to seeing more of her anyway. And I want to know why the hell she doesn’t have custody of her daughter. What the hell is Vicky playing at there?

Henry and Cinderella - I liked the meet cute and the fact that she stole the motorcycle! They’re echoing Henry’s parents and grandparents’ meetings through theft, which I love. I also love Henry’s little shake of the head as she rides off! The moment she first turns and sees him, and seems to lose her voice for a second, like she’s instantly struck was really well done, as was the moment Henry first saw Jacinda in Roni’s, where he couldn’t speak for staring at her. I also loved how Henry insisted on helping her get away, how he wouldn’t give up on her, and their dance at the ball. And I liked how they talked about the Cinderella story, with her saying many girls have the same size foot as her and him saying that’s a pothole, alright!  To me, at the moment, they feel cute and sweet, much like Snowing did. I sort of neutrally ship them, not at all in the way I ship RumBelle, but there’s much more to come, I’m sure, and I look forward to more sweet moments.

Alice - is very intriguing. I figured she was awake when she looked at Henry. She’s kinda weird and loopy, but I think she’s a girl who knows what she’s about. I’m intrigued by how she knows Rumple, and this whole idea that when you get involved in a story that’s not your own, bad things happen. Be interesting to find out how she knows Rumple, and how that’ll all play out. I like the idea that Rumple is keeping watch over his grandson. And I’m pretty sure Alice stole Henry’s car to keep him in Hyperion Heights. On Rumple’s orders or…?

Roni - cool chick. I like the lower register of Lana’s voice as Roni. I like the sort of more relaxed, friendly demeanour. Roni was probably the life and soul of the party while the community was thriving, but now it’s fading away, so she’s grudgingly giving up and feeling jaded. I love her speech at the end, and how Jacinda inspired her to stand up to Vicky. I love how she says ‘nah, I’m not giving you my bar today’ :) Lana does some lovely things with her voice as Roni that she never did as Regina.

Regal Believer - there’s a moment, after he says ‘what if I walked in and told you I was your son’, where there’s a sort of spark, a memory, like there was for Emma and Snow in the pilot. I kind of knew the Regal Believer relationship was going to be one I rooted for in this new season, and I still feel that way. I’ve really become a fan of Mom Regina and her little prince over the seasons, so that’s one relationship I’m still invested in. It’ll be interesting to see which of them wakes first and what that does to their dynamic.

Rogers - so I was spoiled that this is Wish Hook before I watched this episode, and for Wish Hook’s back story, so I’m actually pretty chill about him. If I’d thought that this was original Hook, I probably wouldn’t be on for the team up with Weaver so much. I mean, Hook and Rumple, to me, can’t ever really be friends, and it would be weird to me to see them even be partners, even under the curse. Wish Hook kind of gives them a blank slate. I’m sure the Milah business still happened, but Wish Hook is clearly a different man from the Hook who’d only been after revenge on Rumple, so I think this can be a better relationship. I think the fact that it’s suggested that Belfrey got him his promotion after his help with Lucy, though, indicates that the police in Hyperion Heights may not be as above board as they should be. That desk sergeant sure didn’t seem to care about his job! Have to say I did love Rogers’ smitten kitten reaction to being partnered with Weaver!

Speaking of Weaver - well, hello, Detective! What are you up to with attempting to drown that man? Is he someone you’re trying to extract information from or some criminal lowlife you’re interrogating in your own rogue way? Never felt that Rumple was awake here. I think it’d be stupid, really, to have him be awake from the beginning. Prepared for the curse so he could be woken, yes, but awake from the get go, no, because we never saw Rumple really cursed before, so I think it was important to give Bobby that to play with for a bit. I think they gave just enough of him in this episode to make people wonder about Weaver, though, just as they did with Mr Gold in the pilot.

Henry needs to live his own story - it’s what drives eighteen-year-old Henry to leave Storybrooke and also what keeps adult Henry from writing - the idea that he’s not living his own story. That’s an interesting metaphor for living an authentic life, isn’t it? I mean, Henry is only able to begin to write again when he truly reconnects with something/someone meaningful, when he really embraces life again. Though I can understand the writer’s block coming, in his mind, from the loss of a dearly beloved wife and daughter, though we, of course, know it’s the curse keeping him from his true story.